Very little matter after that. Harry is alive. James doesn't sit down, he crouches down, elbows between his legs, hands covering his head and somewhere from that tightly wrapped package of human flesh comes out a sob, of relief and wrecked nerves.

His son is alive. That little moon faced boy with a few teeth and a laugh that will make grown men cry. (At least it makes James cry.)

He might never see his son again, but the boy is alive.

That's enough to quiet him completely.