“Mr Potter! Great Merlin, it really is you!” Minister Fudge blustered. “We thought you were dead!”
“So it would seem. And that my best friend and oath brother was the one to betray me.” James replied coldly. “Suffice it to say, Minister, that after the events of All Hallows Eve in 1981, I felt it prudent to disappear with my son, and let the wizarding world believe that I was dead – for our own safety. I’m sure you understand. I had assumed that since my wife was the one who gave her life to defeat a madman, that there would be more celebrations and worship in her name, but you seem to have skipped over her to exult in my son, who has done nothing.”
“But he – you – he is the Boy Who Lived!” Fudge sputtered. “He was the only one we knew of to survive the Killing Curse – ”
“- Again, because of his mother’s great love for her son. Not because a toddler had some unimaginable power and was able to defeat the most evil Dark Lord of our time.” James interrupted.
“Well I – yes, that’s true, but – ”
“So then this silly foolishness and bowing and scraping will cease and desist immediately, and you will work to re-orient the focus on honoring my courageous, brave, Muggle born Gryffindor wife, instead of putting a young child on a pedestal that will only confuse, embarrass, and hurt him!” James was roaring by now, as Sirius smirked and leaned against a pillar to enjoy the show. “Really, Fudge, you should be ashamed of yourself! Celebrating an event and day in which a toddler survived witnessing the murder of his parents? For shame, sir! You all should be absolutely appalled at yourselves. I know I am.” He turned on his heel, cloak flaring. “C’mon, Sirius – let’s go. I want to make an appointment to speak with the Headmaster at Durmstrang. Surely he will appreciate and treat Harry as a lad, not – “