Re: Peter/James
They would go to Sirius first, James thought deflatedly. Everyone knew how close he and Padfoot were... that had been the whole point. James realised his head was starting to hurt from where he was ruffling up his own hair, probably doing a decent job of making himself look as unhinged as he felt. Slowly, he relaxed his grip, his gaze turning down to the bench they were sitting on. He suddenly couldn't look at Peter any more.
"But when they ask," he said, finally. "You'll tell them, won't you? You tell them where to find us. Find Harry."
Because that was the crux of it, wasnt it? Voldemort wanted Harry. Sure, Lily was muggleborn and he'd betrayed his bloodline or whatever by marrying her, but the prophecy had been about Harry. Voldemort was coming after his one year old son, and James had trusted Peter to keep them safe.
He wasn't aware of jumping to his feet, but James suddenly found himself standing. His body thrummed with some kind of nervous energy, sending him between anger and panic and hurt and anger again.
He knew how this would go, of course. He'd seen it play out already, with Sirius in the journals. Was it worth waiting for a reply? James noticed, with some vague detached interest, that he was pacing. Up and down, passing Peter again and again.
"Merlin, Pete," he finally managed. "Why didn't you bloody say something? To anyone? We could have done something. There has to be a way for us all to come out of this without you..."