James's Son

James, he played Quidditch
Played it very well
He could catch the Snitch
The way he could cast a spell
He’d make the crowd love him
Before the game was done
You have your father’s skill.
You are your father’s son.

James never knew
Voldemort was on his way
He had other worries
And other games to play
When Voldy came and killed him,
I just had to run
The only thing in my head—
I had to save James's son.

I couldn’t feel goodness,
I couldn’t see light
I was in Azkaban,
The prison filled with fright.
Anger without comfort,
Screams without sound.
Only darkness and pain
The anger and pain
I escaped from the pain
There was new hope when I found
That Wormtail was still around.

James, he played Quidditch
He would be playing still.
I just can't forget him
I know I never will.
I'm fed up with excuses
I have only one:
You have your father’s skill.
I can see that
You are your father’s son.