As soon as James stepped out of the fireplace and his eyes had adjusted, he almost fell over in shock.

"You!" he exclaimed, suddenly frowning at the watery-eyed man in front of him.

"Ja… James?" Peter Pettigrew stammered, turning a deathly white. He wondered if this was Hell.

James felt strangely calm. In sixteen years, he had been able to rationally process the information, the facts regarding his death. The fact that Peter had betrayed him was as good as settled and forgotten in his mind and there was only one thing that Dumbledore had known he should do. Discuss it with the traitor himself.

"James…" Peter looked close to tears. "Please don't kill me!" James almost laughed.

"You're already dead, you prat." Peter looked anguished.

"He really did kill me, then?" James snorted.

"You mean Voldemort? Nothing more than you deserved."

"I know," Peter sniffed, hanging his head in remorse. "I'm sorry, James." James did laugh that time, only because the apology had come sixteen years too late and James couldn't even be sure that Peter wasn't only sorry because he was in the afterlife and therefore needed to repent.

"Why did you do it?" James asked, the question falling from his lips before he could stop himself from speaking. The afterlife had an odd way of quietly encouraging people to speak their minds. Since their deaths, he'd told Lily that far too many dresses made her look fat for her liking.

"Why did I betray you?" Peter mumbled but with more confidence than he'd ever displayed in life. "Because I was scared. I felt powerless. I wanted to matter. I wanted people to revere me and recognise my talents."

"What talents?" James mocked nastily. Damn the afterlife for putting all his thoughts into words.

"I don't know," Peter agreed sadly. "I thought that I was a good spy. Devious and cunning and deceptively clever." James shrugged.

"I suppose you were those things. Not like that's a compliment," he added. "You've hardly spent sixteen years repenting, have you?"

"No," Peter whispered. "I've hurt your son. I've made life worse for him." A single tear rolled out of his eye but anger was beginning to build inside James's chest.

"I can forgive you for betraying me because it was my choice to trust you and I've had sixteen years to come to terms with it." Peter looked slightly cheered but James moved towards him and hissed. "But I'll never forgive you for making Harry an orphan. Or for binding him to a gravestone and taking his blood to revive Voldemort. You're bloody lucky that he didn't die that night." James vaguely remembered a rule about not swearing in Heaven but he couldn't worry about that now. Peter's lip trembled.

"He looks like you. It was so hard for me to do." James snarled.

"So why did you?" His voice was louder than it had been before. Out of all the Marauders, he had the most amiable nature and most controlled temper but his voice was just about as raised as Peter had ever heard it.

"I wish I had been given a choice. There was no one to fight for me," Peter trembled.

"No," James growled. "Because you gave up that privilege when you killed me. You don't get friends anymore, Pettigrew."

"Please call me Wormtail," Peter begged, looking thoroughly beaten. James shook his head.

"Nicknames for Marauders only." Peter let out a wail.

"No!" His tone was dripping with desperation. "Please! Not that! I'll do anything!"

"You're starting to sound like Lily," James told him coldly. "The night that Voldemort murdered her." Peter was crying hard now.

"Don't kick me out of the Marauders! Please!" The volume of his voice dropped. "They're the only good memories I have left. Don't leave me when I need you!"

"What, like you did to me? And Lily? And Sirius? And Remus? And Harry?" James stepped away from Peter in disgust. "Even when Harry saved your life, you still betrayed him a year later. You'll never know what loyalty means. Why in Merlin's name did the Sorting Hat put you in Gryffindor?"

"I don't know," Peter whispered, agonised. "I've always wondered."

There was long silence in which Peter dried his eyes on the sleeve of the jumper he was wearing and James stared blankly at the floor.

"Can't you say something nice to me?" Peter whimpered. "Something positive."

"No." James's response was blunt.

"Do you want anything from me?" Peter whispered. "I'll do anything you want." James's head snapped up.

"Tell me about my son," he demanded. Peter's face lost what little colour it had retained. Clearly he had not been expecting that request.

"Wha…what?" James rolled his eyes.

"Tell me about my son. I've missed his entire fucking life! Give me some details! Anything!" Peter looked terrified again.

"Hasn't Padfoot told you?"

"Don't call him that!" James snapped. "And I want to hear it from you." James's voice shook. "I need to hear it from you." He added the last part very quietly and had they not been in limbo, Peter would not have heard him.

"Alright, alright," he nodded, rapidly. "I've only met him a few times. He looks like you- the spitting image of you. Except his eyes. He's got Lily's eyes. He's compassionate like Lily, trusting and loving like her. Like both of you," he quickly backtracked. "He's brave too. He's not…" Peter swallowed another wave of tears. "That night in the graveyard, he didn't even try to make me feel guilty, he just accepted that I was going to betray him again. That was the worst part." James was quiet for a moment.

" When was the last time you saw him?" Peter racked his brains and then suddenly let out a frightened squeal.

"Oh Merlin, James!"

"What?" James was startled and grabbed Peter's wrist. "What? When did you see him?" Peter's other hand was clasped over his mouth. He was shaking his head frantically.

"I'd forgotten… Merlin, James… it was just before I died." James looked worried.

"Pettigrew, where was he?"

"Locked in the cellar at Malfoy Manor," was Peter's tearful reply.

"WHAT?" James yelled. "How did he end up there?" Peter shook his head and muffled sobs were clearly audible.

"Greyback… dragged them in…"

"Greyback?" James hissed. "As in the werewolf who infected Remus?" Peter nodded glumly and then his face lit up slightly.

"If it makes you feel better, I never liked Greyback, even when I was… on their side."

"That doesn't make me feel better!" James cried. "I wouldn't expect you to like him! And my son's locked in a cellar at the Malfoys'?"

"No!" Peter cried triumphantly. "I left the door open behind me! They must have escaped." James let out small sigh of relief but still looked furious.

"I'm so pissed off with you right now," he growled. Peter cowered away from his old friend.

"I know," he muttered. "Is this Hell?" James snorted and looked offended.

"Obviously not! They're hardly going to send me to Hell, are they?" Peter shrugged doubtfully.

"Maybe you've been granted a special visit." James snorted again.

"Dream on, Pettigrew. I didn't even want to see you. Dumbledore arranged this without me knowing."

"For whose benefit?" Peter whispered. James laughed.

"I have no idea. I'll ask him when I next see him." Looking confused, Peter shuffled towards the wall.

"Dumbledore's not in Heaven?"

"He's off doing something," James explained. "And nobody has any idea quite what, where or how. I thought that death would be the limit but for Dumbledore, obviously not."

There was another period of silence in which James ruffled his hair and Peter sighed.

"What?" James asked, although the annoyance in his voice had vanished somewhat.

"I was just thinking," Peter breathed. "How I used to idolise you." James almost laughed.

"I know you did," he replied, a slight bitterness to his tone. "How ironic."

"I still do, you know," Peter muttered tearfully.

"How is that possible?" James asked, smiling slightly despite himself.

"If I were you, I'd hate you so much for betraying me. I wouldn't even be able to stand here and talk to you," Peter explained.

"You thought I'd be worse than this?"

"Well, yeah," Peter admitted. "But don't get me wrong! I'm so grateful that you're not trying to curse me into oblivion." James raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I don't have a wand on me. We don't need them here." He gestured around the room. "Anyway, so you admire me for not kicking your butt straight into Hell?" James laughed. "Even I couldn't do that." Peter managed a small smirk.

"I see your ego hasn't deflated much." The laughter stopped.

"Yeah, no thanks to you." There was a definite coolness to James's voice again. "You'd find it quite damaging if one of your best friends betrayed you and your family to the world's most dangerous dark wizard." Peter had enough about him to look ashamed.

"Will I ever stop feeling guilty about that?" he asked quietly. James looked him in the eye.

"You feel guilty?" Peter nodded. "Good." James sounded satisfied. "That's something, at least. Sirius'll be pleased."

"How's Remus?" James asked and Peter looked down, embarrassed.

"I don't really know," he admitted.

"What, you don't keep an eye on what your old friends are up to?" Peter shrugged.

"You know he got married?" James nodded.

"Nymphadora Tonks. Sirius has got a list of jokes, sarcastic comments and mild insults about ten feet long for when Remus gets here. Although we hope that won't be for quite some time." Peter nodded, not wanting to risk laughing or smiling again.

"There… there are rumours that she's pregnant." James's face lit up.

"Really? You're kidding! That's brilliant!" His face fell slightly. "Merlin, I wish I could be there to impart all my fatherly knowledge." Peter flushed.

"Sorry," he muttered guiltily. James crossed his arms and watched Peter closely.

"You know, Remus should be most pissed at you out of all of us. You ruined his life the most. And then when you had the chance to apologise and do it over again, you still betrayed him. Again."

"It's too hard to be good, James," Peter gasped and immediately clapped his hand over his mouth.

"Don't be surprised," James shrugged. "This place likes us to tell the truth. If you lie, the truth generally finds its way out."

"Oh. Right." Peter remarked.

"Yeah, this is probably the first conversation we've ever had when I know that you're not lying to me."

"I was never like that before," Peter muttered sulkily.

"Before?"

"Before the war," Peter sighed. "I never used to lie to you guys." James considered that response.

"But that wasn't when it really mattered, was it?" When Peter didn't answer, James nodded. "Look, it's been interesting catching up but I've got five-a-side Quidditch to get back to. Sirius is probably losing abysmally without me." Peter jumped in alarm.

"No, don't leave!" he squeaked, moving a few steps closer to James, who in turn backed away.

"Why?" James raised an eyebrow. "You scared of what comes next?" After hesitating for second, Peter finally gulped and nodded.

"Yes," he whimpered. "I'm so scared."

"Anything else you wanted to tell me?" James asked casually.

"Just…just that I'm more sorry than you'll ever know." Peter looked as though it had cost him a great deal to admit that. "I'm sorry I chose the wrong side and betrayed you all and even if I went back in time, I wouldn't choose the right side because I'm too much of a coward." Something in James's expression softened.

"And that's the most truthful thing you've ever said to me," he told him. "Goodbye, Peter."

Peter ran after him but found that he could not touch the fireplace.

"James, don't go!" he screamed in terror. James paused.

"I have to leave," he explained firmly. Peter whimpered.

"What happens to me now?"

"You stay here," James told him. "You stay here and wait."

"W… wait for what?" Peter's entire body seemed to be shaking along with his voice and James met his gaze for the last time as golden flames began to rise in the fireplace.

"Just keep concentrating on that guilt, Peter. That will be the thing that saves you."

Peter sank to the floor in fear, loneliness and despair as James vanished from the fireplace. When he blinked and glanced upwards, the fireplace wasn't even there any longer. It had been replaced with a round object, which when Peter examined closely, he suddenly knew was a Pensieve. A Pensieve complete with silvery memories swirling around inside…