Year: About a week or two after Harry's birth
Season: Summer time; August
Characters Involved: James, Lily, Baby Harry, possibly the other Marauders
Situation: The trials and tribulations of being first-time parents.
James had taken to fatherhood like a fish takes to trombone lessons. He loved Harry more than he ever thought it possible to love another human being, but he couldn't help but have the distinct impression that Harry would stop at nothing until James was a broken heap on their doorstep. Yes, he was perfectly aware that Harry was just a baby, but babies were capable of far more than James had ever given them credit for.
Lily, James was convinced, had taken to motherhood as nature intended, and he would be lying if he said he wasn't atrociously jealous. In actuality, it might not have been quite as clear cut as James was seeing it, but he was so obsessed with his own failures that he was incapable of seeing any of Lily's.
Now he sat nearly defeated upon their couch, lamenting to his friends, who were stopping in occasionally (James was thoroughly convinced they were in it purely for the entertainment value, and they may have even had bets going, although that would be entirely Sirius' fault) to see how the new parents were holding up and to visit the newest addition to the Potter household.
"I'm not going to make it. I'm not. I haven't slept...in so long. He hates me. Wants me dead; I just know it."