A Very Potter Christmas

The Potter Feast on the Winter Solstice was always a point of pride for the family. Mum and Dad started cooking a whole week in advance, placing the finished food under careful stasis charms until it was time to be served. Still, even with the help of magic there was plenty to do on the day.

Dad was off to one side painstakingly frosting one of the cakes he’d produced — the man was an ace baker, always creating the most mind-meltingly delicious creations. He said baking was a precise art, like potion-making, and as much as James admired his father’s proficiency in both, he’d always leaned more in his mother’s direction.

She, on the other hand, was a master at cooking. Both of his parents were great cooks, but Mum was just a few steps above her husband on this matter. She’d grown up on saag and jalfrezi and biryani, and all the wonders of South Asian cooking, before embracing British cuisine, from Yorkshire puddings to full roasts. From there, she’d expanded massively, teaching herself everything from the intricacies of French cuisine to the explosive flavours of Latin cooking. She was honestly the best chef James knew, and he delighted in sharing a kitchen with her, eagerly soaking up all the knowledge she could impart upon him. It’d become a bit of a thing, James often cooking with his mum, and sometimes baking with his dad. They’d insisted he should know how to cook for himself, but he took great enjoyment in it beyond its utility.

The Black brothers, unfortunately, had no such experience.

“I’m not doing that,” Sirius flat-out refused, shaking his head and looking supremely grossed-out.

“If you can’t mix the stuffing with your hands, you have absolutely no hope of getting it in the turkey,” James pointed out, amused.

“In the turkey?” Sirius stared wide-eyed at the naked pink bird. “What do you mean in the turkey?”

“It’s stuffing,” Regulus drawled, unimpressed with his brother’s dramatics. “It stuffs the turkey.”

“I didn’t realise it actually goes inside the thing!” He exclaimed, aghast. “Kreacher always served it on a separate platter.”

“Why would it be called stuffing then?”

“To be fair,” James mediated, “we’re also ovening some balls of stuffing, because what can fit inside the turkey is never enough in my opinion.”

“Why do we have to put any of it inside the turkey then?”

“It’s about the flavour, my dear,” Mum floated over from where she’d been preparing roast potatoes. “The stuffing soaks up juices from the turkey, enhancing the flavour and making it moister. Trust me, it tastes better this way. Now go on.” She nodded towards the large bowl of stuffing.

Sirius tried to hide his grimace. “Uhhhhhhm... I don’t know about this.”

“It’s not any worse than handling bubotuber pus in Potions,” James offered.

“I always make Moony handle the gross stuff,” Sirius despaired. “I just do the stirring and make the notes. He says my handwriting’s prettier.”

“Spoiled brat,” James coughed unsubtly. Of course, Remus would enable Sirius being a fussy priss, and of course he would tell Sirius his handwriting was pretty. James could see it, clear as day in his mind, the way Remus would duck his head and flush as he said it.

Regulus rolled his eyes. “I’ve seen Lupin’s chicken scratch. That’s not saying much.”

“Honey, knowing how to cook is a valuable life skill,” Mum cajoled, and not for the first time since the brothers moved in. “You can’t rely on others to feed you forever. Especially now that you don’t have a house elf anymore.”

“I have a James,” Sirius rebutted. “He’ll cook for me.”

James raised his eyebrows, mildly amused. “You want me to cook for you for the rest of our lives?”

“Moony can pitch in too.”

James fought not to laugh.

“Oh, for Jove’s sake!” Regulus huffed and rolled up his sleeves, hip checking his brother out of the way. Without a moment of hesitation, he dived his hands into the bowl and started mixing. “It’s really not that bad.”

Sirius made a face like he smelled rotten eggs. “Oh, the texture of that looks awful from here.”

“Maybe I should get you some gloves for cooking?” Mum mused. “If it’s a texture thing.”

“I’m not sure how much that would help.”

“Hmmm. For now, how about you join me cutting the potatoes?”

“Why do they look like that? That’s not what potatoes look like.”

“They’ve still got the skin on them.”

“Skin?” Sirius’s face washed with alarm. “Why do potatoes have skin?”

“How about cake decorating?” James suggested, before Sirius was thrown into a spiral. “I’m sure Dad could use an assistant.”

The boy visibly perked up. “Decorating, you say? Yes, that’s sounds more my speed. Oh, Monty!” He headed off in the man’s direction with gusto, eagerly latching onto the escape from cooking.

Mum gave James a wry look. “He’s going to have to learn to cook eventually.”

James shrugged with a small smile. “I think you underestimate Sirius’s ability to wile out of doing things he doesn’t want to do.”

“Lupin and your son here will enable him,” Regulus added quietly, finishing up with the stuffing. “Is this done?”

“I think so.” James nodded. “Now’s the fun part!”

Mum just sighed. “I’ll leave you two to it then. Let me know when that’s ready to put in the oven.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“Of course, Effie.”

She returned to the vegetables, leaving James and Regulus alone with the bowl of stuffing and the turkey. The Slytherin stared at the bird cautiously. “What now?”

“Now,” James grinned, “you grab a handful of stuffing and put it inside. I’ve already prepped the cavity.”

“You…” Regulus slowly turned his head to face him, blinking owlishly. “You fingered the bird carcass?”

James reared back so violently he nearly tripped himself over. “What? No! Why would you say that?” His voice came out an octave or two higher than usual.

Slate grey eyes stared unflinchingly back at him. “You just told me, you prepped the hole. Did you finger it open?”

“No! I just removed the giblets and shit!”

Long and pretty lashes fluttered once. Twice. “So, you didn’t stretch the hole open?”

“You’re making this sound dirty on purpose!” James accused in a whisper-yell. He could feel his cheeks heating up.

Regulus tilted his head cutely, eyes wide and innocent. “I would never stoop to such uncouth vulgarities. I have standards, Potter. Now, is there a technique I should use for fisting the hole?”

“Fisting?” James managed in a choked-out garble.

Ignoring James’s freak-out, Regulus simply grasped a handful of stuffing and moved towards the turkey. “Does it need lubrication?”

James hid his face behind his hands, unable to look at Regulus or the damn bird anymore. For the rest of time, he was going to think of this whenever he was around roast turkeys. James was certain the other boy knew exactly what he was doing. Sneaky little Slytherin.

“There’s already butter…”

“Excellent. Lube is important.”

James whimpered desperately. “I beg of you to stop talking. Please. For my sanity. My parents are literally right there.”

Regulus’s tone walked a careful line between casual and salacious. “What? Didn’t they give you the talk? About the birds, and the… stuffing?”

He braved peeking between his fingers and was treated to the sight of Regulus smirking at him, looking thoroughly amused. “I got the talk,” James admitted, a little strained. “There wasn’t much talk of stuffing involved.”

“Hmm.” Regulus proceeded to stuff the turkey. Thankfully, he didn’t try to make it an overly sexual gesture, though James still couldn’t bring himself to look. “They might give you another one soon.”

Dropping his hands, James busied himself stuffing the turkey’s neck as well. “Why do you say that? The first one was mortifying enough to last me a lifetime. I’m not eager for a repeat.”

“Well, shortly after the ‘we accept you for being gay’ speech, your father sat me down for a ‘queer sex and intimacy’ speech. It was surprisingly more informative than I expected of him.”

James’s brain record scratched. “My Dad? Why would he know so much about gay sex?”

Regulus visibly bit back a smile. “I think that’s a question you should ask him. In any case, I don’t doubt you’ll get the gay version of the talk if you come out.”

His hands faltered in their motions, and he swallowed nervously, glancing in his parents’ direction. Neither of them seemed to have caught on to their conversation, Mum humming along to a quiet tune emanating from the radio, and Dad deep in discussions with Sirius about piping techniques. He turned back to Regulus, biting the inside of his cheek. “You haven’t told anyone, right? I’m still… I’m still not sure.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t think they’d be supportive — he was absolutely sure that they would be. It’s just that… he wanted to know what to actually tell them first. It wasn’t as simple as James realising, he was gay. Because he wasn’t gay. Or at least… not fully gay? James wished there were a word for it, a clear-cut term he could use, but for right now… he wasn’t even sure that what he thought he was feeling, was what was actually happening here.

For years, he’d only ever crushed on girls. Never even looked twice at a guy. Even in the porno mags he’d managed to get his hands on last year, he’d only ever stared at the witches on the pages. It had never even occurred to him to look at the wizards the same way.

And that was exactly the crux of the problem. James wasn’t sure if he’d just never allowed himself to think in this direction before, or if whatever he was feeling for Regulus was a one off, or if he was just confused. What if these feelings were just desire for friendship presenting itself in a strange way? Or what if his appreciation of Regulus’s looks were merely a general admiration of objective beauty? He just didn’t know. And it was driving him spare not knowing.

It was undeniable that he thought Regulus was… pretty. And smart. And extremely witty. And a bunch of other lovely things that were very likeable. But did he like them in a friend way? Or more? What if the boners and semis he kept popping were just his teenage hormones raging? What if he just needed to find a pretty girl and get laid?

This whole thing was unprecedented. Uncharted waters. And normally, he’d talk to Sirius about this sort of thing, but he couldn’t do that without revealing that he was crushing on Sirius’s beloved baby brother, and that was not a crate of flubberworms James was prepared to open until he was surer of his feelings.

Lily’s take on things had been interesting. That she’d been — essentially — performing at heterosexuality, because she didn’t know any better. That she’d been socialised a certain way and had to unlearn that narrative to find her truest self. That as soon as she flipped that switch, and she realised that she only liked girls, it’d been a relief to her.

He remembered Sirius’s sexuality journey too — remembered the quiet revulsion that had writhed beneath his skin at his own feelings. Remembered the shame and the self-hatred that had plagued Sirius for months on end. Remembered all the nights James spent running a soothing hand through his best friend’s hair and reassuring him over and over that there was absolutely nothing broken about him. That love could never be wrong.

Remus had never had much of a problem with his queerness, as far as he’d confided in James. He’d struggled so much with his lycanthropy that the fact of him being gay was almost a non-issue for him. Apparently, he’d just never seen girls that way, and when puberty hit and the hormones started swirling, he’d only ever had eyes for boys. (Well, for Sirius.) He’d honestly never seemed ashamed of it, or ever questioned it at all.

None of that was what James was experiencing.

He didn’t feel like he’d been pretending all his life, didn’t feel like he had to hide who he was. He’d genuinely liked Lily and had genuinely crushed on other girls too in the past — at least, as far as he could tell. And he wasn’t ashamed of liking Regulus, if that’s what this was. There was nothing that felt gross or wrong inside of him for feeling this way. But nor was it a non-issue he could just simply shrug off.

Was it even possible to like men and women? Lily seemed to think so, but even she’d never heard of it before. Sirius, and Remus, and Lily, and Mary, and Regulus, and every other queer person James had ever met only liked the one gender. What if… what if he was just pretending? He knew he could be a bit of an attention hog sometimes — only child syndrome, what can he say? — so what if this was just his brain’s fucked up way of making himself the centre of attention? What if he’d just been feeling side-lined with his parents pouring so much love and time into the Black brothers? What if he was just doing this to get their attention back on him? He didn’t think he was doing that, but what if he was? What if he was just a spoilt brat craving attention? Surely, he wasn’t that much of a spotlight hog?

Oh, Merlin! What if James was a terrible person? Playing at queerness just to keep eyes on him? What an awful fucking thing to do! Maybe he should—

“I haven’t said a word,” Regulus assured him quietly. “I wouldn’t. That’s for you to tell people, whenever you’re ready.”

“It’s not—” James fumbled over his words. “It’s not that I’m ashamed or anything—”

“I never said you were,” the boy replied coolly.

“I’m just…” James searched for the right words. “… confused,” he finished lamely. “I don’t— I don’t know what’s happening.”

Grey eyes fixed themselves upon him, a touch contemplative, a tad empathetic. He silently looked at James for a long moment. Finally: “That’s alright.”

“Is it?” James asked seriously. And he knew he was the elder of the two of them, but he couldn’t help looking to the younger boy for guidance here. “Shouldn’t I just know already? I feel like I should know.”

“It takes some people longer than others,” Regulus informed him, his tone veering on gentle. “You’ll figure it out eventually.”

“Did it take you a long time?” James asked, hoping he wasn’t the only one.

Regulus smirked a little apologetically. “I realised at eleven.”

He blinked. “Eleven? That’s… What made you figure it out?”

Regulus looked away, a wry smile twisted upon his lips. “I met a boy. Tale as old as time.”

James’s gaze dropped down to the turkey, his heart dropping in tandem. So, he was alone in this. Probably the only person to take this long to figure this all out. Probably the only person who liked girls and boys. Probably the only person this pathetically clueless about his own sexuality.

“I see.”

They fell into silence as they finished stuffing the turkey. James then tied the legs off, basting and seasoning the bird fully. He placed it in a baking tray and prepared it for the oven, arranging foil around it for an even cook.

“James.”

He met Regulus’s gaze over the top of the turkey. “Yeah?”

“Not knowing is okay,” the boy told him softly. “Feeling is the more important part.”

Ah.

Water welled in James’s eyes. He tilted his head up and blinked rapidly to keep any from falling. He had turkey hands — he couldn’t wipe tears away right now.

“Thanks for saying that,” he managed, though his throat felt thick with emotion.

Instead of a snippy comment as he would usually respond, the Slytherin just hummed empathetically.

James took a second to collect himself, but only a second. “Hey, Mum! Turkey’s ready!”

She hurried over with a flurry of praises at their work, quickly ushering the turkey into the oven. James lost himself in cooking for the next several hours, trying not to think or feel too much in any direction. It was the day of the Solstice. A holy day. Now was not the time for boy trouble.

*

Oh.

Oh fuck.

Every year, the Mckinnons turned up first for the Potter Feast. There were six of them: Aunt Isa and Uncle Alon, their oldest child Ethan, Marlene next up, and then the two youngest boys, Joshua and Kyle. They weren’t actually cousins (or at least not close enough for it to count), but the two families had been close ever since James and Marlene became friends in the day-care at St Mungo’s where both of their mothers worked. They’d spent almost every Yule together since James could remember, their parents extremely close, and while James didn’t have a big extended family, he considered the Mckinnons to be the closest thing he had.

This year, Ethan brought his partner. His very, very hot partner.

Fuck.

“I’m Drew,” the person introduced themself, holding out a hand to shake. They had their hair cut in an effortlessly cool shaggy style, streaks of red featured throughout. Their deep brown eyes were lined with wickedly sharp liner and their lips were painted an alluring shade of crimson. James noticed absently that their nails were lacquered in the exact same shade. All in all, the person in front of him was utterly mesmerising.

He must have taken a second too long to respond, because Drew smiled wryly. “No, I’m not a bloke. And no, I’m not a bird. I exist outside the bounds of gender.”

James blinked rapidly, diving for their hand to save himself from seeming rude. “That’s not it! Sorry! I just— your hair’s so cool, I got distracted— never mind.” He shook their hand vigorously. “I’m James, by the way! I’m not a bigot, you’re just really hot!”

All at once, a bemused smile cracked onto their face. “Ah. Thanks.”

Ethan started snickering. “Well, I do have to say I agree.” He reached over and ruffled James’s hair. “No stealing my partner, kiddo!”

James’s hands flew up to defend his hair. “Oi! Get off! I’m not— just fuck off!”

At that moment, Marlene bounded over with Sirius in tow. “Jamie! Happy Yule!”

Just as he got free of one Mckinnon, he found himself tackled in a hug by another. “Oof! Happy Yule to you too, Marls.”

“I see you met Drew,” she said as she pulled back. “Aren’t they the coolest?”

James fought to seem normal. “Yeah, definitely.”

“I have to say, I think I’m obsessed with you,” Sirius announced, taking Drew’s hand and kissing the back of it in one suave motion. “Sirius Black, James’s almost-brother. A pleasure to make your acquaintance… Drew, was it?”

“That’s right,” the wix grinned. “But I’m definitely too old for you, kid.”

“Ah, that’s alright,” Sirius answered good-naturedly. “I’ve already got my sights set on someone else.”

“He’s coming later,” James faux coughed. Sirius elbowed him in the side.

Drew processed this, looking over at their boyfriend. “Huh. So, you’re not the gayest cousin, then? I know you said your family would be accepting, but I didn’t quite expect this.”

“To be honest, neither did I,” Ethan admitted, eying James quizzically. James avoided his gaze, suddenly realising that finding Drew hot was probably quite gay of him.

“I am, by far, the gayest cousin,” Marlene declared proudly, to which Sirius immediately protested.

“No, I am!”

“Just because you spend an hour on your hair a day, doesn’t mean you’re gayer!”

“I think you’ll find it does! I’m a walking advertisement for homosexuality! What have you got going for you?”

“I’m gayer because of the yearning, Black. What’s gayer than gay yearning?”

Sirius stopped short, stumped. “That is pretty gay.” Then he brightened. “But I yearn too! I yearn far more than you do!”

“Do not!”

“Do too!”

“Do not!”

“Do too!”

“Okay, okay!” James interjected while they glared at each other. “You’re both pathetically pining and irrevocably queer. It doesn’t have to be a competition.”

Marlene harrumphed. Sirius tipped his nose up in the air, displeased.

Drew snickered at their antics, utterly entertained. “Is there anyone in this family who’s straight?”

Taking a breath to calm down, Sirius answered first. “My brother Regulus over there is queer too.” He pointed over to where the boy was currently sitting, bewildered, between the youngest Mckinnon brothers, who were excitedly chatting his ear off. “So he’s out of the running.”

“That just leaves Josh, Kyle, and James here,” Marlene threw an arm over his shoulder. “Plus, the ‘rents, but I’m still holding out hope for Effie.”

“I really wish you would stop talking about how hot you think my mum is,” James winced.

“I’ll stop talking about it, when she stops aging like fine wine.”

James shoved her in retaliation.

“Wait, you’re straight?” Drew blurted out to James, who went stiff in an instant.

No? Yes? Maybe? To be determined?

He coughed and attempted to sound nonchalant. “Uhm. Yeah.”

There was an awkward pause in the group. Drew looked unconvinced, Ethan contemplative, Marlene seemed mainly confused at everyone’s reactions, but luckily, Sirius bulldozed through it all.

“Well, we can’t win ‘em all, right?” He elbowed James playfully. “Four out of seven is still good going!”

“Right,” Marlene went with it, shaking off her puzzlement. “Though, the jury’s still out on Kyle — he’s just close enough with his best friend, Oliver, to make me suspicious.”

“Yeah, we have a bet going,” Ethan divulged. “But we’ll love him even if he does turn out disappointingly straight.”

The group laughed, and James tried not to die inside.

Fortunately, the Pettigrews arrived soon and shook up the groups, allowing James to escape the mortification. Peter and his family joined them for Yule every other year, spending the alternate year with relatives, but Wormy had confessed he preferred Solstice at the Potters, much to James’s delight.

Since James didn’t have any immediate family other than his parents, they’d filled up their holidays with friends for years. Sometimes the Prewetts came since his parents were close with them, other times the Longbottoms showed up. Occasionally, the Boneses, or the Vances, or the Shacklebolts attended too.

This year, it was the Potters, Mckinnons, Pettigrews, and Lupins only. A smaller showing than most years, but Mum had told James that was by design; she hadn’t wanted to overwhelm Regulus or Sirius — Regulus, in particular. James didn’t mind. He still got to spend his Solstice with people he cared about, still surrounded by all the love he could ask for.

So, when the Lupins arrived, not long after the Pettigrews, everyone was finally here and accounted for. Remus had visited Potter Manor before, but his parents hadn’t, so they received a brief tour, before it was time for The Exchanging.

“Exchanging?” Remus leaned closer to James as he watched everyone scurry about, collecting their baskets.

“Gift exchanging,” James clarified. “Remember when you told me about Christmas gifts, and I told you about Yule gifts?”

“Ah,” Remus’s eyes flickered with understanding. He gazed down at James’s basket, eyeing the contents curiously. “Did you get something for me?”

“Of course, I did!” He pulled out a little white bag and handed it over enthusiastically. “For health. Since it’s your first Yule gift from me, I had to make it special.”

Remus carefully took the bag and inspected it closely. “Is this a tea bag?”

“Close!” James grinned. “It’s a tub tea bag. Inside, there’s epsom salt, pine needles, orange peel, and a few other goodies ground up. You’re meant to put it in the bath with you when you want to revitalise your body. I thought it might be nice after a moon.” He dipped his head to his friend’s ear to say the last part quietly.

“Oh.” Remus blinked at the bag with new understanding. “Thank you, Prongs. Really.”

James bumped their shoulders together. “Happy Yule, mate.”

“Happy Yule. I er— I didn’t get you anything. I wasn’t sure about what type of gifts…”

“Oh, I didn’t expect you to,” James dismissed easily. “But don’t worry, Sirius collected a whole basket for you. You can regift things from there if you want. I won’t tell anyone they’re regifts.”

“He did?” Remus’s gaze turned achingly soft.

James hummed mischievously, glancing to the side. “Speak of the devil…”

“Moony!” Sirius burst forth, carrying two baskets. He thrust one of them out towards the other boy. “I wasn’t sure what to get you, so I got you everything! Because you deserve light, and love, and protection, fortitude, health, luck, plenty, and everything a Yule gift can possibly symbolise.” He announced it with gusto, but James could see the nervousness behind his bravado.

With Remus though, James’s brother-in-every-way-that-mattered, was safe.

“Thank you,” Moony breathed out quietly, adoration in every line of his face. “I love it. I love—I love it.”

A brilliant flush lit up Sirius’s cheeks. He smiled bashfully, dipping his head in an uncharacteristically shy gesture. “I’m glad.”

James took that as his cue to give his gift and slip away. He retrieved the stick he’d scavenged from the forest for Padfoot and placed it into his basket. “Happy Yule, Pads. For joy.”

Sirius tore his gaze away from his crush, long enough to smile at James. He handed over a small clear stone he must have found in the river. “Happy Yule, Prongs. For clarity.”

James’s smile fell as he looked down at the stone placed in his palm. For clarity. Did Sirius— did he know? His heart beat faster in his chest. “Pads—”

“Prongs!” Peter yelled, practically bouncing over with a grin on his lips. “For luck!” He held out a four-leaf clover and James’s heart stuttered in his chest.

“Wormy! This is—” Lost for words, he carefully took the clover in his fingers. “How long did it take you to find this?”

Peter grinned wide. “I was gift-hunting with my sister, telling her about the frogs prank you and I pulled a few weeks ago, when I tripped over and landed right next to it. I figured that was the gods telling me you needed some luck.”

“You tripped? Are you okay?”

“Completely fine.” He rolled his eyes. “Now, what did you get me?”

And so, James retrieved the small holy basil plant he’d uprooted for Peter. “For abundance. I hope you get everything you could possibly want, Pete.”

The boy gasped at the plant, cooing over it immediately and babbling about where to put it on his windowsill collection of plants.

After that, James didn’t get much time to slow down and question Sirius about his clarity stone. He was quickly caught up in a flurry of gift exchanging that had him dancing across the room from person to person. He received many gifts which replaced the ones in the basket he was giving away. Rowan tree berries for protection, cherry leaves for love, citrine stone for prosperity, and many more wondrous gifts for him to cherish.

“Happy Yule, Potter.” Regulus handed him a flower with a short stem. It was extremely pretty, with many perfectly curved petals in a gentle blush-pink colour.

“Thank you,” James took it gratefully. “Do you know what type of flower it is?”

“A camellia,” Regulus answered, as if revealing something. He was watching James’s reaction cautiously.

“For…?” James prompted, a little embarrassed. “I’m not familiar with the symbolism.”

At this, Regulus seemed relieved. “For me to know and you to wonder about. Now, what did you get me?”

“Really? You’re not gonna tell me?”

“No.” He held out his hand expectantly. “Now return the custom, Potter.”

Reluctantly, James acquiesced. “I’m not sure you deserve this after withholding your wish for me.”

With slow and steady movements, Regulus took the bundle of lavender James had painstakingly assembled and tied with ribbon. “Lavender,” he whispered, smoothing his thumb over the neat bow James had tied seven times before he’d been happy with the result. “For…?”

“For protection and spiritual healing,” James told him, a little pointedly, still miffed the other boy had refused to voice his wish for James.

Regulus regarded the lavender silently for a moment. “Not for anything else?”

Technically, lavender could symbolise love as well. It was something James had considered when choosing this as his gift to Regulus, and it had felt right in the moment, but it didn’t quite hit him until right now what it would reveal to the other boy.

“That’s for me to know and you to wonder about,” James parroted evasively.

Regulus huffed at his own trick directed back at him, placing the lavender inside his basket with reverent motions. “Touché. Happy Yule, Potter.”

“Happy Yule, Regulus.”

*

“Straight, are you?” Drew raised a sceptical eyebrow, holding out a sprig of pine — a standard gift for people you don’t know particularly well. “For time. A long life.”

“Thanks.” James took the pine awkwardly. “And I don’t really want to talk about it.” He held out another fairly general gift, an orange. “For light in dark places.”

The wix took it with a nod of acknowledgement.

“We won’t say anything,” Ethan assured him, his blue eyes earnest as they met James’s brown ones. “You get to decide when you’re ready.”

Drew softened. “He’s right. Sorry for baiting you out earlier.”

James shrugged. “It’s fine. I’m not really worried about people knowing. I’m just… I don’t really know yet.”

Ethan actually chuckled. “Ah, we’ve all been there.”

“Twice for me,” Drew tacked on with a lop-sided smile that was unfairly attractive. “First it was: ‘am I gay?’ Then it was: ‘am I even a dude?’ The second one was more confusing for me. …And the answer was no.”

James glanced around to check no-one was listening in before shuffling a little closer to his cousin. “E, can I ask you a question? And you can absolutely tell me to fuck off about it but—”

Ethan gave him a knowing look. “How did I know I liked Drew?”

James cringed. “Actually, I was going to ask what your sexuality is. I… Is there a word for it?”

The wizard paused, looking at him consideringly. When he spoke, it was with slow and gentle words. “I don’t really know. I tend to just go by ‘queer’.”

“Because you don’t like men or women…?”

“Because I like all,” Ethan corrected. “Men, women, in between, other. It doesn’t matter to me what gender Drew is. I just love them.”

“Oh,” James just about managed, his head spinning.

That — that’s what James was. Whatever that was called. Whatever Ethan was. Just… queer. Not straight. Not fully gay. Queer.

Of course, there was still a voice in the back of James’s head telling him he was just a pretending attention whore, but… there was a chance this was it. That James just fell for people, whatever gender they may be. That he’d liked Lily because of who she was, and that spending so much time around Regulus recently had had the same effect. Maybe, just maybe, it didn’t matter to James’s heart what gender Regulus was? Maybe he just liked him? Who he was? Maybe that’s all there was to it?

“Oh,” James said again, because words were failing him.

Ethan hastily pushed his basket into his partner’s arms and pulled him into a hug. “Hey, it’s okay, kiddo.”

“I think…” James whispered into his shoulder. “I think that might be me.”

“I know,” Ethan cradled his head. “I know.”

Laughter bubbled up and out of James’s throat as euphoria bloomed in his gut. “I think that’s me.”

Ethan pulled back to look at him, hands on his shoulders. A brightness twinkled in his eyes while a broad grin adorned his face. “Take your time with it, Jamie. Window-shop a bit.”

“Window-shop?” Drew repeated, like they were daring Ethan to make a misstep.

“Hey, he can look and not touch,” the man defended. “It helped me figure my shit out.”

“I didn’t like your window-shopping faze,” Drew grumbled irritably.

Ethan reached for their hand and grasped it in an appeasing gesture but kept his focus on James. “Sometimes, all it takes is for one person to open up your mind and your heart to a whole world of possibilities you hadn’t considered before. But to give yourself some peace of mind, because I have no doubt, you’re questioning yourself every five seconds like I did — Godric, like I still do sometimes — I would recommend just looking around. Window-shopping, so to speak.”

“As in, just… look at people and think about whether or not I think they’re attractive?” James clarified.

He received a nod of agreement. “Across the genders. Just have a little look. It’ll help you figure out if liking just one person — like Drew, for instance — is a one-off, or part of a larger pattern. For me, Drew’s my one and only, but not a one-off when it comes to my preferences.”

James turned this over in his mind. “I guess I can see how that would be useful. I… You’re right — I have been second-guessing myself every five seconds.”

“Which is why it wouldn’t hurt to have a little look around. Not tonight, obviously. Preferably when you’re not surrounded by people you consider family.”

James huffed a laugh. “Yeah, definitely not tonight.”

Ethan looked him right in the eye. “And you’re not pretending, by the way.”

James blinked, startled. “What? How did you—?”

“It’s like I said,” he cut in with a wry smile. “I’ve been exactly where you are right now. I know there’s some part of you worried you’re fooling yourself, or that you need to pick a side, or that you’re indecisive, or an attention-whore, or something. But that’s not what it is. Whatever your brain is telling you is wrong. Your heart knows the truth. That’s what you need to listen to.”

“I— fuck.” James’s heart pounded in his chest. He tilted his head up to avoid tears for the second time today.

Ethan patted his shoulder soothingly. “You know, I was going to give you this chamomile for calm and good fortune, but I think you could use this too.” He rummaged through his basket for a second item, eventually holding out a small brown striped stone.

“Tiger’s eye?” James took both objects, still blinking back tears.

“For insight,” his cousin smiled. “For better understanding in life.”

James grasped it with a wet laugh. Now, he had two stones for insight and clarity. “Now these mint leaves I had for you seem dumb.”

“Eh, they’re for positivity, right?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s never dumb. We could all use positivity in our lives.”

James gazed upon his older not-quite-but-still-cousin, “Thanks, E. Really.”

“Any time, little cousin.” Ethan stepped back and wrapped an arm around his partner’s waist. “I promise you’ll get there.”

James gazed down at the stone in his hand and smiled. He felt one step closer already.