I Know The End
James is dismissed from the hospital within the hour. There’s really nothing else that can help him; what’s done is done, and he’ll have the scar for life. It’s already late in the day, though, so he doesn’t bother with classes. Even if it was in the morning and he could make it to all of them, he doesn’t think he has it in him. All he really wants to do is sit beside Remus’ bedside until he’s free to leave with him. He would be doing that if it weren’t Remus who asked him to leave. Well, he didn’t ask, not really, but he told him it would be better if he were off. He told him to go to classes even if Remus had to know there’s no possible way James would go to them today. He has a note excusing him, and even if he didn’t, he could show them his face and they’d probably let it pass just this once.
His parents didn’t stay long; they would’ve, James is sure, if he asked them to, but he could barely even process that they were there at all. They promised to write, and James thinks he promised the same, but he honestly can’t remember, even if he only talked to them ten minutes ago. It’s like he’s living in a haze. He’s half expecting the lights on the walls to morph into something different. He’s looking for a crack in reality, or a flicker in his vision that proves to him that he’s in a dream, or another messed-up reality far from the one he normally lives in. His arm is red because of how much he’s pinched his skin. He's hoping it’s all just a dream and he’ll wake up from it, but it’s not a dream. It’s not a dream, and his face is on fire, and things will never be okay again.
The walk to the common room isn’t a short one, but really, James hasn’t realized how long it is until now. It’s the younger years that see him first, their eyes widening in shock, and he even sees fear in some of them. He keeps his head down most of the way, tapping methodically on his thigh with his fingers. No one stops him. They probably don’t know how to. He’s not sure if he would know what to say either. He doesn’t know what to say; all his words are dried up. He doesn’t see anyone whose name he actually knows until he gets closer to the tower. With each step, his legs feel like lead. He doesn’t even care all that much, that’s the thing. He doesn’t care about what he looks like, and he doesn’t care about what people think about him. They can say whatever they want about him. He just hates the looks of pity, and he hates being feared. That’s probably how Remus feels all the time, doesn’t he? James swallows back his thoughts and mumbles the password under his breath before stepping into the room.
Maybe he should’ve rehearsed what he was going to say before. He should’ve come up with a lie, but his face is on fire, and a headache is pressing against his mind. Plus, if he’s being honest, he would’ve thought his friends would all be in classes and they wouldn’t be here. Clearly, he was wrong and should’ve checked the time. Lily’s the first one who meets his eyes, and James just has to stand there and watch as her face crumbles. Marlene and Mary are quick to follow. He feels sick.
“James?” Marlene calls out, “You alright?”
James hums, afraid of his own voice, “Fine,” he forces out, before moving on towards the stairs. He only stops when someone tugs on his arm. It feels like a thousand needles running up and down his skin, even if the touch is gentle and nothing is actually wrong with his arm. It feels like he’s on fire, or maybe that’s just the world around him.
Marlene stands, her eyes narrow and filled with concern. James gags on it. “Are you-”
“Tired,” James answers before she can finish, “I’m tired. I’m just gonna go up.”
“Remus, Sirius, and Peter haven’t been to classes,” Mary mentions, not moving away from the couch, and her gaze is stuck on James; unwavering. “Are they not with you?”
James shudders, taking his arm away as he takes a step back, “No,” he says simply before turning to the stairs. He hears another call out for him, but he ignores it, like the rest. He knows he should say something more. He should come up with a lie to make things being okay actually believable, but he’s not sure how to do that. The world has already ended, and he’s not sure what watering a dead crop will do besides kill his hope with each tear he sheds in hopes it turns anew.
His ears are ringing, and his body weighs heavier with each step he takes. He blinks, and he’s outside his dorm room, but he can’t force himself to grab the handle. He can’t bring himself to. He knows that once he does nothing will ever be the same again. If what Mary said was true and Sirius and Peter really aren’t in class, they have to be in there. James isn’t ready for it to be over, even if he knows the end has already come.
There are no sounds coming from the room; if he didn’t know any better, he would think it was empty. The last time he was inside, everything was still okay. The biggest thing he was worried about was being late to meet Remus down at the tree. James and Peter were just waiting for Sirius; he was running late, which isn’t unusual, but it’s rare when it comes to the moons. Even more so since Sirius and Remus got together, he’s never even wanted to risk being late. James should’ve known something was wrong. He should’ve seen the signs. It’s almost funny, thinking about how worried James was when they first got together. He was happy for them, of course, but there was this bad feeling in his chest. He just couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen if they broke up. He didn’t know if it would tear them all apart. If the four of them would even be able to sit in a room together comfortably afterwards. That used to be the worst case scenario: a civil breakup where they decided they were better off as friends. Would you look at them now?
James takes a breath, it catches on his lungs as he pushes open the door. He’s not surprised to see Sirius sitting on the edge of his bed, but the air is knocked out of him anyway. Sirius lifts his head, his eyes tired and sad. They widen as soon as they see him, just like all the others. It’s all the same, but James doesn’t want his pity.
“Prongs,” Sirius quickly stands.
James wants to look away, but he forces himself to keep looking at him. His best friend. His Sirius. It’s all distorted now, and his Sirius isn’t there at all. He’s afraid his Sirius is never coming back. Even more so than before, James tries to find something wrong. He pinches his skin, but it does very little. His heart is still beating, and the universe remains intact. “Get out,” he hears himself say; he almost doesn’t recognize the voice.
“What?” Sirius’ face falls, and his voice cracks. James’ first urge is to hold him. He wants to protect him from all of this falling all over them, but he doesn’t move. Sirius doesn’t either. It’s his own doing, James reminds himself. He held the gun. He pulled the trigger. His Sirius is gone, he’s not coming back.
“Get out,” he repeats, keeping his voice steady. “I don’t want you here when Remus gets back,” he swallows thickly, “Honestly, Sirius,” he manages, even if his voice gives out over his name. “I don’t want you in here either.”
The words fall uneasy between them. They both stand watching their descent, as if they’re both waiting for them to be found untrue. Nothing happens, and James doesn’t take the words back. It almost feels like he’s the one holding the gun now, but he’s not sure who he has it pointed towards. He thinks the bullet ricocheted against Sirius and was sent right back over to him.
“I-” Sirius' voice fails him, “Let me just explain-”
“No,” James cuts him off. “Get out.”
It’s now that he even registers that Peter is in the room with him. He walks over to stand between them, his eyes flickering over to both of them. He doesn’t stop it from happening. He doesn’t agree with James either, he simply stands in the middle like he’s worried he’ll have to break up a fight. James almost wishes it were a fight, he thinks it would hurt less than this. He thinks about it, reaching out and grabbing Sirius, tossing him to the ground. It could be a childish thing, rolling around in the dirt until they’ve divulged into giggling messes. They’d end up lying on the grass, chests heaving, with the smell of the dirt all around them. It would be simple. It would be an easier landing.
“Prongs,” Peter calls out.
James looks over at him to find Peter’s eyes aren’t on him, well, they are. He’s looking over at him, but his gaze falls down to his nose instead of his eyes. James feels sick. It just makes the pain more apparent. His glasses have been rubbing up against it since he put them back on. It burns, and all he can think about is Remus. He surely has more scars since last night. It’s been so long since he’s had to go through a moon alone, even with Peter; there’s only so much one person can do. He couldn’t run free in the woods like he should be able to.
James clears his throat, and Peter fixes his gaze, “What?”
Peter shakes his head, “Are you alright?”
James hums, “Fine,” he says. He’s already tired of the question, and he knows it’s far from the last time he’s going to hear it. He looks back over at Sirius, “I don’t see you moving.”
Sirius looks at him like he’s been stabbed, and he wants to take it back, but he can’t. His mouth doesn’t move, and his words don’t work. He sees tears in Sirius’ eyes as he turns to grab his wand before he walks out the door. He doesn’t look back. James forces himself not to either. He looks at the rest of Sirius’ things that he hasn’t taken. James knows they’re going to have to do something about it, and he knows Sirius can’t just be without the room. He just doesn’t want to think about it right now. He can’t.
The dorm is quiet without him like all the life has been sucked out of it. James can hear the wind howling from outside. It’s raining, of course it is, it’s fitting for a day like today. No one’s dead. They got away probably better than they should’ve all things considered, but James still feels like he’s mourning regardless. He heard once that grief is like the ocean tide. The waves start out strong and close together, but eventually they ease, like all things do. James can’t imagine it ever calming down. He’s afraid it’ll be like this forever. It’s never been like the ocean to be gentle.
The feeling of Peter’s arm on his shoulder takes him back into reality, and he looks back over at him to find his lips have been moving, “I figured you’d still be with Moony.”
James blinks; it takes him a long time to register what the words mean. He clears his throat, “Told me to go,” he forces out, it doesn’t sound right. Remus has never told him to go away before, or well, he has, but not like this. He’s told him to leave, but James always knew he truly meant to say stay. This time he didn’t. This time he really did want James to leave.
“Oh.” Even Peter is surprised. It turns James’ stomach.
“You should go,” James tells him numbly. “I don’t want him to be alone there.”
Peter nods, certain unlike last night. There is no fear in his eyes, only concern, “Are you sure?” He asks, “I don’t want to leave you alone.”
“I’m fine,” James says, trying to put on a smile, “I’m knackered though. I’m just gonna sleep.”
Peter looks at him like he’s not sure, but he lets up eventually, “Okay,” he says slowly, “If you need something, you’ll come find me?”
James nods, even if he knows he probably won’t, “Yeah, of course,” he says, “Just keep Moony company, that’s all I want.”
Peter squeezes his shoulder before letting go, and James is left to the hands of the ocean again. They’re not as soft as he hoped they would be. He would’ve thought it would be like falling asleep on a cloud, but the tides are rough beneath him. It makes his skin burn.
James is barely aware that Peter leaves the room until he hears the echo of the door shutting for a final time. Only now that he knows he’s alone and no one can see him does he begin to cry. He chokes, stumbling back until he reaches his bed. The tears fall across his cut, and it burns like nothing else. It’s like a match was lit against him, and maybe there has been. He wouldn’t be surprised if the entire world was on fire. He tosses his glass on the bedside table before lying down in the blankets. It should be soft, but it feels rough against his skin. Without thinking,g he brings his palms to press against his eyes, and it makes the pain worse. He doesn’t let up; he keeps them there until he sees stars in his vision.
He feels like a little kid as he whines and hiccups through the incoming tears. This is stupid. This is all stupid. It’s hysterical and useless and will do him no good because he’s not the one who’s been hurt. Remus is the one who was hurt and betrayed. He’s the one lying in the hospital wing right now, not James. What’s wrong with James, huh? He has a little cut, and Remus sent him away. Is that all? That’s nothing, and yet he’s sobbing and can barely breathe. It’s all too much. When he was younger, everyone used to say his emotions were too big for his body. It was always a one-off comment; they all assumed he would grow into it, like hand-me-down clothes. Now he’s older, sixteen, and those emotions are still no match for him. They form a puddle around him, uselessly lying there until he has no other option than to crumble into it. His skin is soaked through, and he shivers.
With a breath, James heaves himself fully into his bed, curling around himself like a dog. He doesn’t bother with the blankets. All he manages is to shut the curtain, allowing darkness to consume him. It’s better like this. It’s better that no one can see him. He removes his hands from his face and pushes it into the sheets beneath him. When he pulls away, his white sheets lie pink from where his face pressed against them. He sighs, closing his eyes and lying back down.
He’s not sure how much time passes. He’s not even sure time exists anymore in this parallel reality he’s found himself in. All he knows is that he doesn’t move for a long, long time.
☽ ☼ ☾
Someone’s knocking on the dorm room door. They’ve been knocking for a long time. James thought ignoring them would be enough for them to get the message and leave, but they haven’t. He takes a heavy breath before forcing himself up. His limbs feel heavy and muscles weak, but he manages to walk himself over to the door. He looks in the mirror first, trying to fix his face. He smiles, but it seems wrong. He sees little pieces of reality glitching the longer he looks at it. His eyes are puffy, but he wipes away the remnants of his trying tears. He smiles again and manages to make it look a semblance of normal. He opens the door.
Truly, he’s not sure who he’s expecting, but he definitely doesn’t think Lily Evans will be on the other side of the door. Her fist is still raised like she was going to knock another time. Her other hand is full of a covered plate. James is expecting her to complain about how long he took, or at least make a sarcastic comment about it. She doesn’t. Her face falls when she sees him, and she asks softly, “Are you alright?”
“Peachy,” James answers, “Did you need something?”
Lily sends him a look, “Can I come in?”
James hesitates before stepping aside, gesturing for her to come in. The room is a mess, but that’s not exactly new. Peter gets fed up sometimes with the mess when it gets really bad and forces them to clean, other than that, though, it remains like this. There are clothes all over the floor, along with loose assignments and books they haven’t bothered to put away. Lily doesn’t comment on it, instead, she sets the plate down on James’ bedside table.
“You weren’t down at dinner,” She says, “I figured you’d want to have something.”
She looks back over and James isn’t even sure the person he’s looking at is Lily. It doesn’t seem right. Sure, he’s been off her back more about throwing himself at her. He hasn’t made any public displays in months, and she’s softened up to him, but they’re not friends. She doesn’t ever talk to him if the other girls aren’t there, and even then it’s never like this. She’s never shown any care like this towards him before. His brain isn’t working. If it were, maybe he would ask her about it, but instead he just stares over at her like she can read his mind.
Lily looks at him for a long time, until she tilts her head and asks, “Are you sure you’re alright?”
James swallows thickly, humming, “Of course.”
Lily sighs, rolling her eyes, “Sirius stormed out of the common room hours ago,” she says, “No one’s seen him since. He wasn’t at dinner.” When he doesn’t say anything, she adds, “Peter came down but only long enough to grab two plates before running off again. I assume he went to be with Remus in the infirmary.” Again, James doesn’t speak. “Did something happen between you guys?”
“Sure,” James answers dryly.
“Are you in a fight?”
“Why are you here, Evans?” James questions, he tries to keep his voice light like he’s just teasing her, but it doesn’t come across. His voice is heavy like the rest of him. His exhaustion is holding him down.
Lily looks at him for another moment before she sits on the closest bed to her, “I know about Remus.”
James stills, “What are you talking about?”
Lily shoots him a pointed look, “I know,” she says, “If I didn’t know before that cut on your face proves it. Madam Pomfrey would’ve healed it if she could.” Quickly, she adds, “And I know you probably won’t confirm it for me, which is fine, I don’t need you to. I just- Is Remus okay?”
Of course, this is all about Remus. Not that James can blame her; he's more worried about Remus than he is about himself, than he is about anything. “He’s hurt but okay,” he answers, knowing he probably just confirmed it for her. It’s not like anything he could say would sway her, though. She’s a force to be reckoned with. “He will be okay.”
She nods, “And you?”
“I’ll live,” he says, walking over to sit on his bed. His tired muscles thank him, but he still feels sore. There’s this aching feeling that won’t leave him.
Lily’s gaze on him feels weird, it’s too much power for one person. He can tell she wants to ask more, but she stands instead, “Eat,” she says, as she stands, “If you’re not at breakfast, I’m bringing you something then too.”
James looks over at the plate as he listens as she walks towards the door, “Why do you care?” He looks over just as she reaches the door. “What does it matter to you?”
Lily looks over, and she shrugs, “Do I need a reason?”
James opens his mouth to reply, but nothing comes out. He watches as she leaves instead, as quickly as she came. He finds himself staring at the door as if he’s waiting for her to appear again. She doesn’t. He looks over at the plate and tries to will himself to pick it up, even if the idea of even looking at food makes him sick. He knows he needs to eat something, he hasn’t all day, but he’s exhausted. Even sitting here is too much, and he wants to lie back down. He wants to go to Remus and sit by his bedside, even if by now he should be heading back to the dorm soon. He wants to find Sirius and beat him up, and he wants to hug him too. He wants Lily to come back into the room even if she doesn’t want to talk to him, just so he can have a shadow resting beside him. It’s only been a day, and yet the loneliness has already sunken into his bones.
It was only yesterday morning that this room was filled with laughter. It was only yesterday morning that James knew for certain that he had three solid pillars to lean on. Now Remus doesn’t want to see him. James can’t even think about seeing Sirius without seeing red, or blue. Well, Peter's attention should all go to Remus. If Remus refuses to see James, he has to see him. James doesn’t want Remus to feel like this, he doesn’t want the loneliness to reach him too. If James closes his eyes, he can almost find an echo of what once was. It hasn’t been that long. It really wasn’t that long ago, and yet today has felt like decades, like an entire lifetime, and he really misses Remus already.
It’s almost like he calls for him, it’s like he can hear him. The door opens and James’ head whips over to find Remus walking through, shortly followed by Peter, but James isn’t looking at Peter. He meets Remus’ eyes, only for a moment. He watches as Remus’ face falls and his eyes start to shine before he turns away.
“Moony?” James calls out.
Remus walks on towards his bed, hesitating before he pulls back the curtain, “I’m tired,” he says, and that’s all before he hides inside. All James can do is look after him, hoping he’ll peek his head out but knowing he won’t. He hears the fuzzy sound of a silencing spell. James isn’t sure if it’s to keep a sound in or keep it out; he hopes it’s the latter. He doesn't want to think of what the former would be.
“He didn’t talk much,” Peter mumbles. “He could’ve left a while ago, Pomfrey told him he could, but he didn’t want to come back here. I swore Sirius wouldn’t be here, but he still fought.”
“He’s not trying to hide from Sirius,” James whispers, “At least not only Sirius.”
“Prongs,” Peter scoffs, but it doesn’t hold the same weight as it probably should. “He’s not- he’s just it was a lot and he-”
James looks over at him, “He can’t even look at me,” he says, “Even you’re too busy looking at the scratch on my face to look me in the eye.”
“That’s not true!” Peter says, as he fixes his gaze. “Prongs, it’s just-”
“It’s fine,” James sighs, cutting him off. “Sorry, I’m just tired. I’m just gonna sleep, I think.”
“It’s still early,” Peter tells him.
James falls back on his bed anyway, grabbing at his curtain, “Goodnight, Peter.”
He hears a muffled response, but he’s already hiding himself under his blankets like he’s three. Oh, he’s never wished he were a child more than he does right now. If only the world could always be that simple. He would give anything for it. Anything.
☽ ☼ ☾
The next time James sees Remus is in Dumbledore’s office. They were sent up there right after breakfast. James wasn’t even going to show up, and he wouldn’t have if Peter hadn’t dragged him out there. He barely ate. He had some toast and jelly, not exactly enough to heal his tired bones, but it was all he could stomach, and now he’s here sitting next to Sirius, Remus, and Snape across from the Headmaster. He’s not sure if he could be in a worse place.
Effie is the first one there, quickly rushing in. James has barely any time to react before she’s kissing the top of his head and holding her hands on his cheeks, “You okay?”
He hums weakly; it’s always harder with her, trying to suppress his emotions. No matter how much he tries, it all comes out somehow. “I’m okay.”
She opens her mouth and he can tell she wants to ask about his face, but her eyes flicker over to Remus and she closes it again. James is thankful; he’s not sure if he could lie to her, but he doesn’t want Remus to know he’s been in pain since yesterday. Effie kisses his cheek, careful around the angry skin, before she moves on. She brings Remus into a hug, which he accepts, it’s hard not to when it’s Effie.
“How are you doing, darling?” Effie asks, giving him a kiss on the top of the head too.
“Okay,” Remus answers. It’s not like James is expecting a long answer; from the looks of it, Effie isn’t either.
“It’s gonna be okay,” She gently caresses his cheek, and James watches as they become flushed, before Remus turns away, finding that one spot on the wall to look at again.
It shouldn’t be a surprise that Effie goes to Sirius afterwards. She bends down next to him, wiping away his tears. It shouldn’t shock him. It shouldn’t make him angry. Effie welcomed Sirius into their family this past summer, and even before he was living in their house. She’s here for him as much as she’s here for James, but it burns watching it.
“Hey,” she calls out softly, like she’s talking to a wounded animal. “You’re going to be okay.”
Sirius sniffles, shaking his head, “It’s okay,” he forces out, his voice is weak and frail. James wants to hold him. He wants to scream at him how much he doesn’t deserve those tears. James isn’t sure where he ended up last night. He wasn’t in the dorm with them, and James isn’t sure he would’ve asked anyone else to stay with them. Not that he cares. He could check the map tonight, though, just to see where he’s ended up and to make sure he’s not coming back.
Before anything else can happen, Eileen and Hope walk in one right after the other. It’s almost shocking seeing them both standing next to each other. Eileen has her back perfectly straight as she moves to stand behind Snape’s chair. She doesn’t lean down to hug him or give him any sort of comfort at all. Her clothes are perfectly fitted and her grip strong. On the other hand, Hope comes in and immediately brings Remus into her arms, not minding everyone’s eyes on them. She kisses his cheek and hugs him again. She looks exhausted and soft but strong. She keeps her hands on Remus’ shoulders instead of the chair, gently rubbing circles against his shoulders. It’s now that James notices that Lyall slipped in, as well, and he stands beside Hope but doesn’t reach out to touch Remus or give him any sort of comfort.
Remus doesn’t say anything to either of them, it’s like they’re not there at all. he just looks straight ahead before taking a heavy breath. James wants to reach over and take his hand, even if he has to lean over Sirius to do it. He doesn’t. He can’t. His eyes do get stuck between the two of them, though. Sirius is sitting as close to James as he can, keeping the distance between the two of them. James can’t remember the last time they were together and weren't touching each other. Even if it was just their legs tangled together under the table. James supposes he’ll have to get used to this new reality, some way or another.
“You’ve all been informed about what happened,” Dumbledore begins.
“How can you keep that thing in a school?” Eileen cuts him off before he can say anything. “How dare you put your students' lives at risk, my son-”
“Remus is a student just like Severus is,” Effie interrupts her. James can practically feel the anger radiating off her. “He is not a thing. He’s just a boy.”
Eileen scoffs, “He’s a monster.”
James watches as Remus flinches, it’s so small, so subtle that if he's eyes weren’t stuck on him, he wouldn’t have seen it at all.
“He is not-”
“Enough,” Lyall clears his throat, bringing the room into an overwhelming silence. “What will be done? Is Remus going to be kicked out of school?”
James hates how he talks about it like it’s inevitable. It’s not inevitable, not if James has anything to say about it.
“Of course he is,” Eileen says, answering for him. “He shouldn’t have been allowed here in the first place!”
“Remus is-” Effie tries, but Dumbledore puts his hand up, ending the arguing.
“Remus isn’t going to be forced to leave,” he tells them. Eileen opens her mouth to argue, but Dumbledore shakes his head, “Severus went somewhere he was forbidden to go. He knew the rules and he broke them.”
“You shouldn’t have a monster like that on school grounds,” Eileen argues. “My son could’ve died!”
“I got him out!” James hears himself argue; he’s not even sure where he found his voice, but once he starts, he can’t stop. “He didn't almost die. I got him out. He’s fine! There’s not even a scratch on him!”
“James…” Effie tries.
“No!” James stops her. “No! He’s fine, and it’s crazy that making Remus leave school is even an option. It can’t be. Remus can’t leave school, that's not fair! It’s not his fault he didn’t tell Snape to go down there; he didn't even know. And he’s not a monster. He’s not. He’s Remus, just Remus, and I won’t sit here and just listen to you talk bad about him! He’s just-”
“James.” It’s not Effie this time, it’s Remus. Remus, who’s actually looking over at James for the first time since the hospital wing. Remus, who’s looking at him with wide eyes so powerful it might take him out. “Stop,” he says weakly. And so James stops. He leans back in his chair and continues to stare forward.
Dumbledore sighs, “I understand this is a difficult conversation,” he says, “And I understand you all want a certain amount of justice, but Severus, did you or did you not go into the tree because Sirius told you to?”
“I didn’t know there would be a werewolf in there,” Snape grumbles.
“I’m under the impression that Mr. Black told you what you would find, am I wrong?” He questions.
Snape scoffs, “No, sir.”
“And you knew the shack and whomping willow were forbidden to students?”
“Yes, sir.”
“So you went into a dangerous situation knowing it’s full-dangers.” This time he doesn’t wait for him to answer. “For that, you’ll be in detention for the rest of the year.”
“But!”
Dumbledore ignores him, “Mr. Black,” he moves on, “For being the one to tell Mr. Snape to not only go to the tree but to get through its defences, you will be in detention, as well as be taken off the Gryffindor Quidditch team.”
Sirius doesn’t look surprised. He just nods silently and accepts the punishment. It’s unlike him not to argue against it. It sets James off. It doesn’t feel right.
“There will be a hundred points taken from both the Gryffindor and Slytherin houses as well,” Dumbledore decides.
It’s too easy. Sirius would’ve been in detention anyway for something or other. He’s been sloppy this year and has been getting caught. Detention with Minnie is nothing. It’s almost like he likes it sometimes. The Quidditch team is a hard blow, sure, but he’ll get over it. People could’ve died. If someone died, it would’ve been on Remus. He would’ve been ruined. It would’ve been Sirius’ fault. James wants to argue, his breath quickens as he opens his mouth, but he looks over to find Remus’ eyes on him. He shakes his head. James listens; he closes his mouth again.
“This is unbelievable,” Eileen says.
“The Lupins could still press charges,” Dumbledore informs her.
“Press charges!” Eileen exclaims, “After my son-”
“I would suggest not giving them more reasons to,” Dumbledore cuts her off. “As you would have very little case considering it was your son who put himself in danger. Now there is nothing else to discuss. You are free to go.” Eileen looks like she wants to put up a fight, but Dumbledore stares her down. “Is there anything else?”
Eileen sighs, grabbing Snape’s hand and gripping it tightly as she storms off. James is afraid this isn’t the end of it. He’s afraid that he knows that to be true too.
“Could the Lupins stay back?” Dumbledore questions. “The rest of you may go as well.”
No one moves at first, as if the command hasn’t reached them yet. Sirius is the first one up. He doesn’t say a word. He only stands, spins, and walks out, though James sees a tear fall down his face as he walks by. James doesn’t move. It’s almost as if he’s glued to the chair beneath him, he looks over to find Remus’ eyes on him. He wants to stay locked on them forever, he can’t move, not when Remus is finally looking at him. He would stay in this stuffy and quite awful room as long as Remus is actually looking at him like he means something. As long as Remus still needs him here.
“Mr. Potter?” Dumbledore questions, “Is there something else you’d like to discuss?”
James hears him, but he doesn’t. It’s like he’s stuck in a haze, or a fuzzy photograph belonging to childhood and nothing else. He’s reminded of the summer after their first year. It was the first time James went over to Remus’ house. It was the first time they really spent a long period of time alone. Sirius couldn’t leave his house, and Peter was on vacation with his family. It was just the two of them. It’s not that they didn’t spend time alone before, but they were always all together that first year. That summer, though, James had Remus all to himself and loved it. He never told anyone, could never admit it, but he loved it more than anything. They spent so much of it in his back garden, lying around in the dew-covered grass. James talked, and Remus listened. Other times, Remus was quiet, and James just watched him, listening in his own way. He was always so scared that Remus didn’t like his company, that he was intruding, and he didn’t want him there, but every time at the end of the day, Remus always asked if he was coming back. He had this look of hope in his eyes like he was begging James to say yes. So, of course, he came back; there was no other option.
“Honey?” Effie’s hands are against his shoulders, pulling him back into this reality. “Are you ready to go?”
But James can’t leave. He can’t get up, not yet. He just keeps looking over at Remus because Remus isn’t looking away, and Remus needs him here even if he’s not saying it. Even if he can’t say it. Remus needs him here, and James isn’t leaving. He’s not going anywhere.
He’s not sure how long it is. Time takes him on its back, like a wave, and carries him wherever he wants to. He wants to reach out, his fingers twitch in his lap, but he doesn’t.
“James?” Remus calls out again. “Go.”
And so he accepts Effie’s hand and leaves with her. It’s as simple as that; only two words.
Remus told him to go, and so he goes, silently just like he likes.