The Gryffindor common room greets him like a warm hug, encapsulating him in familiarity. With trains packed to the brim, James had not been able to find his friends and where they’d managed to seat themselves which made for a somewhat lonely ride. He’d been saved by Marlene a little while in who also couldn’t seem to locate anybody. They were loud and probably annoyed everyone else on the Hogwarts Express for the majority of the journey. She had looked at him oddly when she first spotted him like she didn’t quite recognize him. Then she’d given him a hard pat on the back and offered a thumbs-up paired with a cheeky grin. Marlene always was his number-one fan.
James was worried he looked silly. You see, he’d forgotten to shave for a bit and the day he went to do so, his razor was nowhere to be found. He’d tilted his head every which way, testing the angles and decided he kind of liked the stubble growing in. His magic could’ve sufficed, but he let it grow out instead, just to at least give it a proper go. Now, with an increasing and concerningly amount of double-takes, he’s beginning to regret the reluctant choice. It felt like he was wearing a hat he wasn’t fully confident in and that everyone could practically smell the self-doubt on him. He had the vague sense that he was being pitied, even by strangers. But Marlene was cooler than anybody else and she gave her approval. Maybe his hair was just a mess.
Racing through the dorms, he shoves open the door with his arms held out wide, announcing his presence to the world.
His mates blink blankly at him, all of their eyes widening incredulously. Well if he wasn’t embarrassed before, he sure was now. James flicks his own eyes at them individually, scanning them for the joke that had to have been written on their faces. He didn’t really find it, the only thing painting their expressions was shock.
Hesitantly, he gives a shallow wave. “Hey guys,” he says slowly.
Sirius flinches from where he’d been packing items back into his area of the room. “Prongs?” his voice wobbles, sounding awfully close to tears. James hoped he was playing a prank. “What’s on your lip, mate?”
James reaches for his new moustache, touching it insecurely.
Remus didn’t even glance up when he entered the room, but at Sirius’s devastated tone, he did quickly. “Oh,” is all he says, though James can’t help but feel a hint of judgment or disgust.
Oh, James Potter was a fool. A laughing stock. A disappointment.
Lastly, Peter finally closes his gaping mouth, takes a steadying breath, and provides a tense, unsettling grimiced smile. “Merlin,” he starts, nearly choking on his spit. “That's bloody– nice. Looks nice, James.”
James winces, hating the way he can’t carry himself like he usually does. Arrogant to some, fond to many others. At the moment, he was just a ridiculous boy with an ugly moustache. That was quite a shame, for sure. He doesn’t rid himself of the hair immediately, for the sake of faking it till you make it. Besides, everyone’s already gone and seen it. He’d just be relenting in defeat if he was suddenly bald on his top lip again. Admittedly, it was somewhat patchy. His pops always said his beard came in late, so James had felt slightly proud that his facial hair came in his teenage years rather than his twenties. Looking back just a few hours prior, it looked as if his father wanted to say something about it. James should’ve nodded along to encourage him. Maybe it would’ve saved him from the awkward situation.
Since only his friends were nearby, he fiddled with the small prickles again. “Is it really that bad?” he asks, feeling small.
Sirius straightens up as Remus shoots him a glare from across the room. “No, James.” he grits out. “I like it. Suits you.”
James pouts. “Liar,” he refutes.
Remus perks up, shaking his head. “James, it’s alright. Honestly, just give it a couple more days and then keep it trimmed up nice from then,” he reassures, a genuine kind smile softly taking over. That helped ease the tension, it seemed.
“Yeah, I’d say the same,” Peter calls from where he collapses onto his bed with a groan. “So turn that frown upside down mister!”
James huffs a breath, widening his arms once more. “Well, what are you guys waiting for then? I haven’t had my hug.” he grins, less vibrant than before but Merlin, he missed his friends. The weight slides off his shoulders as Remus taps his arm warmly, never one for a quick embrace. With a tired click of his tongue, Pete sits up and leans over to give him a side hug.
“Padfoot?” James gestures with his hands. He takes a step closer and Sirius shoots backwards, jolting. James takes another step. Sirius slowly takes two more, keeping his eyes warily on James while he retreats as if he were an animal being hunted. “Sirius,” he whines, hurt.
Remus snorts and then rushes to Sirius, kicking him in the leg. “Stop that,” he hisses under his breath.
Sirius’s arm flew out to gesture at James wildly. “He’s scaring me,” he whispers defensively, and honestly, the room wasn’t all that big to begin with. His voice echoes against the walls, mocking James for his ugly moustache.
“Hey!” he crosses his arms, frowning. “I’m right here, you know?”
“Exactly,” Sirius agrees with a shiver.
James storms out of the dorm, several voices calling after him. He won’t have any of that. With a firm nod, he decides to head to the kitchens to mope in solitude while his favourite house elves provide him with snacks. He honestly forgets about the pathetic patch of hair growing on his face, only focusing on Sirius and his horrid reaction.
“Potter.”
All the nerves in James’s body go rigid. Oh, he should’ve just vanished the blasted thing.
He glances up, far too gradually that the snail's pace he moves at is suspicious. “Yes?”
Regulus’s breath hitches, startled. He pauses and regards the caterpillar on James, a critical curiosity taking hold of him. Determination strikes his features abruptly and he grips James’s sleeve, dragging and hauling him to the closest bathroom. “Absolutely not,” he comments with a shake of his head when James gets comfortable on the sink counter. “What were you thinking?”
“Mum liked it,” he grumbles, swinging his feet back and forth like a child. James is not fully convinced she did, but it makes it feel better if he pretends it was the truth.
Regulus huffs something of a laugh. He transfigures a razor and conjures up shaving cream out of thin air. “Well, I suppose I can’t blame you for trying. Sit still.”
James complies. Regulus slaps a handful of the substance on his mouth, some of it getting in and he has to stop himself from spitting it at the other. Carefully, Regulus grabs his chin and tilts his head down so the angle works for the both of them. “How did my dearest brother like this one?” the younger Black brother questions distractedly, scraping the razor over James’ upper lip and successfully taking off a chunk of hair.
“He wanted to scream,” James states deadpan. “I could see it in his face.”
“Oh, that’s lovely. Wish I could’ve seen.”
With a faint bite to his words, James asks, “Can’t you just use magic?”
Regulus halts, eyeing him for a second. He continues steadily anyway. “It’s more satisfying this way. I’m trying to help you here but if you don’t appreciate it, I’ll gladly leave you to it,” he says evenly, a calm that almost feels threatening.
James rolls his eyes at himself. “Ugh, sorry. Carry on, I’d quite like this to be off my face now.”
Regulus’ eyes soften. “James Potter, you are something else.”
“A good something?”
“Just a something.”
-
“Oh thank-” Remus smacks a palm over Sirius’s chatterbox.
Peter snickers from under his blankets. “What made you change your mind?” he asks even though he hasn’t even seen James yet.
“You all were two seconds away from throwing up just looking at me,” he claims flatly. “That’s probably what did it.”
Sirius crashes into him, pulling him into a strong hug. “Missed you, Prongs!” he sighs into his shoulder. James pokes at his ribs harshly and he yelps, wincing.