When Harry folded, James reacted instinctively, catching his son tightly against him in a hug. Physically it didn't feel at all like when Lily had collapsed into his arms, but the scene was eerily similar nonetheless. They could only pray that Harry's loss wasn't was inevitable as his and Lily's. That there was still a chance.
Harry's grief-stricken recitation wrenched at James for his own reasons. Those moments, those were the memories James should have of the man in his arms. All those moments he'd pictured from the time he'd known he was going to be a father.
Don't dwell on that now. All of that is gone. Just be here for him now. His grip on Harry tightened.
"I'm his father, I was supposed to keep him safe." James closed his eyes against the sting of those words. They'd only been running through his head during every quiet moment since he'd arrived here. "How do I live with that? How do I live with failing to protect the ones who matter the most?"
How, indeed?
"You will." His own voice sounded hoarse, but intense. "You will somehow because there are still people who need you. Right now, Jamie needs to see that you haven't given up on him. And if the worst happens, your wife is going to need you. Your Lily and Albus need you. Harry..." His tone softened. "I know you know this. I've watched you keep it together for the last month, because you knew people were depending on you to hold them together. That's why I know you will find a way to live with it if you have to. You're not the sort of man who is capable of letting people down."
His hand cradled the back of Harry's neck, comforting, as if Harry really were a little boy and not a man twice as old and broader in the chest than he himself was. "It's not over," he repeated firmly. "Your son is still alive and your friends are still fighting to keep him that way, so you don't get to give up on him yet."