no shade in the shadow

“What is this?” She asks, tears welling up in her eyes.

The couch is gone, the dinner table has been moved up against the wall, the curtains are closed and it smells. It smells like medicine, like disinfectant, like a person in the last stages of their life.

It can’t possibly be that that person is her father.

They call almost every day, her and her parents, they facetime sometimes, and text, and keep each other updated on daily life.

How could they have kept her out of this?

In the calls he never sounded sick, and they were never sad. They seemed perfectly happy and told stories of things that had happened at work, or in the grocery store, of walks they’d gone on and plans for next summer.

Will he still be here next summer? What about their annual Cornwall trip? Hauling chairs over the hot sand, drinking warm colas, eating sandy chips. Who will swim with her?

“Lily.” Her father says softly, his voice is hoarse, it sounds dead already. Like he’s lost all the taste for life and only held out this long to see her one last time. Bile rises up her throat, banging against the back of it and her eyes water profusely, will he just drop dead now that he’s seen her?

“What’s going on?” She chokes out, feeling her face crumple. She can’t stand it, not being in control, having been left out, not having a single clue as to what is going on here. She only just arrived, she’d been looking forward to this for months, to finally be together with her family again, and now it will be the last time?

“I’m sick, Lils.”

Her body contracts and shakes from her sobs, one of the figures sitting by the bed makes its way to her and she hopes its Petunia, she hopes her sister will take her in her arms and console her, that they can get through this together.

Maybe dad will get better if he sees the two of them being friendly with each other?

“Lily, baby.” It’s her mom, she takes Lily in her arms and holds her.

She just doesn’t understand.

How could this have happened?

How could they have left her out of it?

This happens to other people, and when it does you say you’re sorry and you feel bad, genuinely, you do, but you also feel ever so slightly relieved because it happened to someone else this time, and not you, but now? Could this really happen to her? Could she be the one receiving pitied looks from people who secretly celebrate being happy and healthy?

“Lily, it’s cancer.” Her mom whispers in her ear, she’s softly stroking Lily’s hair, and swaying her in her arms as if she’s a little baby again.

Lily’s head snaps up, she pushes her mom out of the way and takes long strides to the bed. Her dad’s eyes have sunken into his face, the light has gone out of them, he’s bald, has lost so much weight his skin stretches out thinly over his skull, his eyebrows droop and she can tell he has trouble breathing, living.

“I told you.” She yells at him, blinded by her tears and her rage, the suddenness of all of this, being left in the dark.

Coming back home only to find out her dad is dying.

They could’ve spent so much time together if she’d been called home.

Lily has always been independent, and she is proud of it. She could perfectly take care of herself, not needing any help from her family. At fourteen years old she went on holiday by herself for the first time, and continued the tradition each summer, delighting in making her own decisions, not relying on others, being her own master.

Moving out was a big step, but by the end of the first week she was fine, happy to start this new chapter of her life.

Now she regrets it all.

The trips alone, being away most of last year, going off to university so far away. And even when she was home she’d sit in her room, or see James, or go on walks or do anything by herself.

She was never much here.

What about all those moments she missed? She’ll never get those back.

She wishes she’d stayed downstairs more often instead of fleeing up to her room where she didn’t have to worry about getting on Petunia’s nerves, and she wishes she’d been nicer and more forgiving and not so horribly stubborn and unwilling to ever see things in another light. Maybe Petunia is right? Maybe everything is Lily Lily Lily. Lily going away and Lily traveling on her own and Lily moving out and Lily going on long walks when she’s at home and sitting in her room and eating her dinner quick so as to get to safety sooner. She never figured any of this would be possible, that she’d have to cherish her, as it appears, very rare and few moments with both her parents.

“I told you to get those headaches checked out so many times!”

Being stubborn runs in the family.

“And you never did!”

He looks up at her now, with difficulty, his breath rattles inside of his body, Petunia is pretending Lily isn’t even there.

“I did eventually… but it had spread already, there was nothing left for them to do.”

If he wasn’t sick, on his deathbed, she would’ve punched him.

“Bullshit!” She cries out, slamming her fists against the frame of the bed and biting back tears, “Complete, fucking bullshit! It’s simple biology, we learned all of this crap in secondary school! It’s just telomeres, cell proliferation… fucking doctors, idiots, just wait…” The words spill out of her mouth, she’s thinking of her bag, thank god she brought her books on cell biology. Stupid idiotic doctors, all this time and no cure, she’ll show them.

It can never be so difficult.

It’s just simple biology.

The kind of crap they teach twelve year olds.

Everyone in the room seems to be holding their breath, neither of her parents know what to say. This has been their reality for months. They’ve been able to prepare, make the last memories, take care of things, talk, say goodbye.

She is just thrown into this as if it’s nothing.

As she is about to leave the room and go upstairs her gaze falls on the bed, where Petunia is holding their dad’s hand.

There’s a ring on her finger.

Lily’s breath stalls, the nausea from earlier returns.

This isn’t even the only thing they kept her out of?

She looks at her sister, and she looks just the same as always. A little older, worried, anxious, the look you have when you know your dad can go any second. But it’s still just her. Blonde hair, the same green eyes and constant sneering mouth.

But… she used to be thin. Really, very thin, otherwise she wouldn’t have had as much pleasure out of making fun of Lily for her weight as she did.

Her cheeks are fuller, her face rounder, for once Lily can see the resemblance people so often talk of, which she has never been able to find in the both of them.

Petunia gained weight, lots of it, and Lily’s eyes immediately shift down, where her suspicious are confirmed.

Not only is her father dying, or did Petunia get married.

No, what’s the fun in that?

She’s pregnant too.

And Lily knew of nothing.

“Fuck this!” She spits out, turning her back on her family, which apparently she is no longer part of, or ever was, and she sprints up the stairs, slamming the door behind her and throwing herself on her bed.

She looks through her old and dusty bookcases, spills out the contents of her school bag, and slowly her bed is filling up with books and notes, her laptop is opened up and she gets to work.

The phone only rings only once before James picks up. “Get here and bring Marlene.”

Surely three first year students with reasonable knowledge of biology can find a cure to cancer?

“You can sleep at mine, or I can stay here.” James proposes, after having taken Lily aside.

She is eerily calm, from the moment she let them in the door she has been composed and clearheaded, and while Mary and Dorcas sat on the floor having quiet conversations, Lily, Marlene and he have been trying to cure cancer.

Her hair is in a messy bun, strands of red hair falling at the sides of her face, and nothing betrays what she’s going through right now.

The room is a mess, they’ve been going at it for hours now, flipping through books, reading research papers.

James doesn’t have the heart to tell her it won’t matter.

Any other time, if Lily had called him and said she’d cure cancer, he might have believed her. Or at least believed she’d do extensive research and get close. But now? In these circumstances? Now it’s something he recognizes perfectly, a distraction that she can throw herself upon to forget about reality for a moment.

She shakes her head, and for the first time he can see desperation flash behind her eyes.

“No, go home to the boys.” She replies, her gaze already drawn back to her laptop.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Mom baked you a carrot cake.”

“You can bring it over tomorrow.”

“Lily.” He takes her hand, it’s weird, to be in this room again. With the yellow ceilings and pink walls, posters of movie stars creasing at the edges, dust gathering on her bookshelf, the vintage vanity and the bed that creaks. The last time they were here together they were entirely different people.

“I’m fine, James. I’ll figure this out.” She hisses back, but if anyone can see right through that it’s him, why can’t people see right through it with him, if it’s so easy to notice when someone’s lying?

“You can call, or come over whenever, okay?” He urges her, hoping she won’t be like him and shut everyone out. It’s easy to self-isolate, pretend you can do it better on your own, James doesn’t want to sound like a hypocrite, he knows it’s exactly what he does and will keep on doing, but Lily should know better. She’s always been smarter than he is. “Lily, I’ll listen and hold your hand, okay? Please remember.”

He doesn’t think he can stand seeing her hurt this much, he just wishes he could help her. Take it all away and make it better. Make her not hurt.

“I know that.”

He’s at the door now, dreading walking down the stairs, into that living room. There’s no pretending he isn’t at least a little mad at them, for keeping Lily out of everything like they did. It’s cruel, and he can’t even imagine what she’s feeling right now. Neither of them have ever lost someone.

“Sure you’ll be fine? That rug looks perfectly comfortable.”

“Yeah.” Her voice breaks and Marlene starts closing the book, keeping both eyes on Lily at all times while Mary and Dorcas get on the bed and Mary puts her arms around Lily. “I’ve got my girls.” She whispers, her eyes filling with tears, and James nods at her, softly closing the door behind him and tiptoeing down the stairs.

It's near midnight, he’s not sure whether Lily’s dad is asleep yet. Downstairs he finds them all around the bed in the same way they were when he arrived earlier in the afternoon.

“Hey.” He says quietly, not meaning to disrupt them in any way.

He’s not sure how to take all of this. Even if he’d had no feelings for any of these people he would’ve been heartbroken at having to see Lily go through such a thing, but that’s not the case. For three years he was a part of their family. He celebrated their birthdays, joined their holidays, ate with them on Sundays, and spent Christmases together. They’re good friends with his own parents and for three years their families were practically inseparable.

Lily’s dad was his father in law and though he’s not anymore James is still absolutely blown away by this sudden discovery.

“So…” He tries not to sound too rude when he asks, but he just needs to know. “How long do you have left?”

“When they found out three months ago they said it’d be a matter of days, so there’s no way of knowing.”

Why? James wants to ask them. Why the fuck would you not tell Lily?

No explanation will ever help him understand, why even ask?

He nods, wondering how they could’ve done this, called her and lied to her for months, “Okay, see you tomorrow?” It comes out as more of a question than he intends and he can see Petunia flinch at the implication of the words. For all they know he won’t even make it through the night.

“See you tomorrow.”

“James!” His mom shouts up the stairs, “They’ll be here any moment!”

“Almost done!” He yells back, clapping Sirius on the hand when he tightens the tie around James’ neck way too tight.

“You should really learn to tie your own tie, James.” Sirius sighs at him, slightly shaking his head in disapproval. “You’re almost twenty-one and you still make me do it!”

“You don’t always.” James shoots back, combing his fingers through his hair, it’s still wet from the shower so this is his window, if he can’t get it to lie flat now, it’s going to be a mess all night.

A grin appears on Sirius’ face, “No, of course, sometimes you let Loverboy do it.”

James does his best not to groan at that, he was horribly naïve at the time he met Sirius and knows better now than to tell him such intimate details, especially now that he’ll never see Regulus again it’ll likely hurt, and he’s quite certain will tease him with all that he knows until the end of time, “You’re much gentler than he is.” He says, remembering how Regulus was testing him that day, and never really stopped. Such a shame James always fucks everything up in the end, they were having a phenomenal time playing mind games with each other.

“Mmh, which do you prefer?”

“Can’t say, you’ll get mad at me.”

“Sirius, will you do mine?”

“Yes, Pete, just a second.”

He sighs again, much louder this time and with at least double the dramatics.

“If you hate Christmas this much you can just stay here.”

“No, it’s fine. I should probably teach you morons how to do it yourself, right Remus? You agree, don’t you?”

“Yeah, sure.” Remus hums, very obviously trying not to stare at Sirius too hard as he’s just gotten out of the shower and even James thinks he smells amazing. His hair is in those tight ringlets, still shiny and damp, and he’s wearing a very, very fancy and definitely expensive suit. If James fancied him he would’ve fallen to his knees right there right then, and truthfully, he admires Remus’ ability to keep composed.

“I taught my brother.” Sirius adds in a low voice. James turns his head to him, waiting to see if more will follow. He barely ever talks of his little brother, and the one time James asked about him Sirius got all quiet and weird, but James is dying to know. It’s bad, and he’s an awful friend, but he’s too curious to not want to find out what happened. Or to find out literally anything about Sirius’ life from before university. He’s only got scraps, like, maybe two scraps, and that’s it. Both his and Mary’s lips are sealed, very tight. Mary is too loyal to Sirius to give up any information, and Sirius… Sirius just doesn’t talk about anything that’s not enjoyable to him.

“The little bastard hated Christmas, can’t imagine how miserable he’s feeling right now after- err, our last Christmas together was a kind of a shitty one.” Sirius thinks it over for a moment. “Whatever, it’s his own choice, he loved being miserable, ever heard of such a thing?”

Regulus hates Christmas, what’s he doing now? From Dorcas he understood that he stayed behind in Edinburgh, with Barty and Evan. Do they celebrate together? None of them seem the type. He’ll probably never see Regulus again. At campus if he’s lucky, but Regulus won’t want to talk to him anyway. And James doesn’t either. Not after what Regulus saw.

“It’s his birthday as well… he’s nineteen now.” Sirius falls silent, something comes over his face and for a moment James doesn’t recognize him. “I always wonder what he looks like now, y’know. When he was young he always thought we hung the Christmas lights up for his birthday.”

“Didn’t Mary say…” Remus starts, and James waits to see what will happen. Sirius is much gentler with Remus than any of them, at least whenever they’re not fighting to the point where everyone else evacuates the room, maybe he’ll be able to get some information out of him. Though, on the other hand, ever since Dorcas’ party there’s been so much tension between them. They refuse to meet each other’s eye, barely talk, quarrel even less, and don’t sit together anymore as they used to. Sirius insisted to sleep in James’ bed instead of the mattresses on the floor, and he thinks it’s just because he wanted to be as far removed from Remus as possible.

“I think I remember Mary saying you came to live with her on Christmas eve.” Wow, Remus must have massive fucking balls because no one has ever dared to ask Sirius such a personal question before. And look at that! He isn’t choking Peter with his tie, or getting mad, or snapping at Remus like he seems to enjoy so. No bickering starts, thank god, when those two start it never ends.

“Yeah, that’s when I left.”

“It’s really fine if you stay upstairs.” James repeats again. What drives a sixteen year old out of his abusive home on Christmas eve, the birthday of his little brother? Only bad things. James wouldn’t want today to rake up those bad memories.

“It’s been five years today since I last saw him.” He blows out some air, patting Peter on the shoulder, “And I don’t miss him at all.”

Sirius is a terrible liar, but none of them say something about it.

“Got you guys now, so it’s all good.” He adds with a smile. “Let’s go.”

Before the break, when they planned to all go here for the holidays, it was their intent to spend most of it together. A dinner at his, one at Lily’s, days out, going ice skating, sledding, making snowmen, watching movies and baking, all of that.

That’s no longer happening. The girls are at Lily’s and the boys here. James helps her with her mission to cure cancer, and the other boys go over sometimes, or force her to go on walks in an effort to distract her, or cheer her up for as much as that’s possible. They try, but the girls are a bigger comfort to her than they can be, and she prefers to just be with them, so the boys stay at James’ and try to pretend nothing’s wrong. It only works some of the time.

Peter is the first to crack, he’s the most emotional of them, or actually, the only one who shows he possesses feelings, “I’m just so worried for Lily.” They stand in a circle in James’ room, amidst the mattresses, blankets and pillows, and the heaps of clothing and other mess they’ve thrown around since they arrived.

“It’s not fair.”

“Nothing in life is, Pete, but James’ parents put their heart and soul into that dinner, and it certainly wouldn’t be fair to ruin it with snotty noses, yeah?” Sirius tells him, gently patting his cheek and handing him a tissue. Peter empties his nose, the tissue disappears in the mess on the ground, and they go downstairs.

“Oh, wow! You’re a bunch of handsome boys!” His mom cries out when they enter the kitchen, and she kisses each of them on the cheeks, Sirius and Remus look extremely uncomfortable but let it happen, forcing smiles onto their faces and sitting down at the table.

The two of them sit together, and James notices as they knock their elbows together and exchange a look.

Is the mysterious feud over?

Have they finally faced what’s right in front of them?

Or is it simply the holiday spirit, the feeling of death hanging around them, the constant mixture of joy and sorrow and the sudden urge to make the most out of every moment?

It’s Christmas eve, James’ grandparents come waltzing in, all four of them, carrying presents not only for James, but all of his friends too, there’s snow on their coats and they quickly sit down at the table.

Finally it feels like Christmas.  

Sirius and Peter fit in easily, and with encouraging nods and smiles from Sirius even awkward Remus manages to join most conversations and crack a few jokes.

“So, James, how’s school?” His grandpa asks when they’re starting on desserts, and he knows that now the questions his grandparents have been wanting to ask all evening will get fired at him mercilessly.

I fucking hate every second of it, it’s not for me, I wish I could quit. I’m not a quitter. I don’t want to fail. “Good! Yeah, I think I’m doing really well, passing everything with ease, so, yeah.” He mumbles through a mouthful of brownie, Sirius has already finished his and is trying to pick up some extra bites wherever he can. James shoves him out of the way.

“How nice! We are so proud of you for working so hard, are you having fun, too?”

Fun? Fun and school in one sentence? That’s impossible. Nothing about the headaches, the masking, the pretending and acting, the disappointment in himself and the extreme exhaustion is fun. “At school? Sure, a lot of fun. Yes, it just, it really- I really like it. It’s always been my dream of course, and it’s very interesting and fun, still very happy with my decision, definitely, yeah, it’s just my passion, you know? So I’m always having fun when I’m at school.” He stammers, from the corner of his eyes he can see his parents exchanging worried glances, he swallows his brownie down with difficulty.

His grandma looks at him lovingly, though James has got a bunch of cousins, he’s their favorite, they spoil him horribly, he’s the first to go off to university, it’s a big deal to them. He tries so hard to be perfect for them, or, everyone, really. “So you’re doing well? How are you, sweetie?”

Exhausted. Waking up exhausted, getting headaches, going to bed with the immense hope I won’t wake up. Scared for the future. Not doing well. Brain fog, forgetful, don’t want to get out of bed anymore. “I’m really good! Yes, feeling good. Just having a lot of fun.”

“And the girlfriend? What was her name again?”

What did Peter call her again? The antichrist. That’s softly put. She is the devil herself. “Sophia? Oh, we aren’t together anymore, no, we actually broke up last week.”

“What? Why?” His dad chokes out. “You didn’t even mention that!”

“Jamie, baby, I’m so sorry.” His mom reaches over and kisses his cheek, Remus’ eyes flicker across the room in a panic.

I made her hate me. “No, no it’s okay. She just wasn’t the one, there was no fire, not like with you.” He points at his parents, and both sets of his grandparents, who have all been happily married since the big bang and are still disgustingly in love.

There was a fire with Regulus though, if only it hadn’t turned into one in the literal sense.

“At least you have these nice boys to help you through it, hmm?”

Thank god, yes, at least he has them. They’re the only good thing in his life. “Yes.”

“Do you guys have girlfriends?” James shifts in his seat, if Remus and Sirius aren’t gay and in love with each other he must be going insane, and Peter is a bit of an undefined case as of yet, and James? James is confused. Because the more time passes the more he’s starting to regret his decisions. He really did like Regulus a lot. He just doesn’t know what that makes him. He’s never been interested in boys before, but the many girls he’s been with meant nothing to him. In fact, he never once thought about his sexuality. He always just assumed it was a given he was straight.

Not that it bothers him, love is love, and he’s always fallen for the personality first. So maybe he’s not entirely straight? So what?

“No, sir.” Sirius says, and just for a moment Sirius’ fingers graze Remus’.

Interesting.

“None of you are?”

“Nope.” All three shake heads, polite smiles on their faces.

“Huh, such handsome boys and all of them single?”

His grandma pokes his sides, “James, how is that girl you were with so long… oh I’m getting older.”

“Lily.”

“Lily! Yes! I miss her, she was such a sweetheart, and so witty, she had a fire in her, didn’t she?” All of the adults around the table nod, chuckling at the memory of Lily lecturing them on things like she always does.

“At the moment… not so well. Her dad has cancer.”

Gasps all around the table. “Poor thing! Will you send her our love?”

“Sure, I will.”

“And the job? How’s that going on.”

He’s folding the table cloth, ripping the seams, folding again and again. “Actually, I quit.”

All around the table he hears more gasps, and all eyes turn toward him. He hadn’t told anyone yet. Not his parents, not even Sirius. No one knew.

“You quit?” Sirius asks him, eyes wide, knocking their elbows together. James avoids meeting his eye. The whole affair is embarrassing enough, and he’d rather never talk about it ever again. Pretend none of it even happened. That he never knew Regulus, and Regulus never saw anything.

“I got burned.” He shrugs, as if it’s no big deal. He looks down at his arm, thankfully the wounds were pretty superficial, and are healing quickly. Sirius keeps pressing to help him change the bandages, it’s getting harder to come up with excuses to stop Sirius from seeing his arms. To Sirius, James is uncomplicated, perfect, and James can tell that it’s a comfort to him, to have James and have their friendship be so easy and natural. He doesn’t want to mess any of that up with his issues.  

“You got burned?” His parents exclaim, and he’s starting to feel more embarrassed. Everything is always so difficult.  

“You didn’t tell your parents?” Sirius asks now, looking from James to his parents and back.

James keeps his eyes glued to his plate, moving around the last crumbs of brownie with his fork, pretending none of it really matters to him, “Yeah, my shirt caught on fire, and it was kind of embarrassing, and I didn’t like it there anyway-“

“His coworker is a dick- oh sorry! A… a- not a nice guy.” Sirius offers, cheeks going red. James swallows, Regulus isn’t really so much of a dick, he’s actually quite nice, they might’ve had a lot of fun together if none of this had happened.

“Exactly, so I quit. But once we’re back I’ll look for something new, so don’t worry.” He pushes his chair back and starts carrying the empty plates to the kitchen, he needs a moment to breathe. Does he look like this is fun for him? He wanted to start over in university, to be normal and live an ordinary life and be like everyone else. And instead of that he struggles with every day tasks, he hates his degree and the boy he was just falling in love with is someone he never wants to see again. He blinks hard to make the tears go away.

“You got burned?” His mom repeats, carrying the cups to the kitchen and meeting him at the counter.

James turns his back to her, “Yes, but not badly, I’m fine, really!”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“We’re just worried.” His mom says, and James scoffs, rolling his eyes. The boys are all upstairs, getting ready for bed, which is a long process with them, Remus drinks too much tea in the evenings and then takes his rage at having to pee out on Sirius, who he likes to blame for everything, Sirius needs to listen to several albums until he’s sleepy, and Peter believes in skincare and has a whole routine that takes forever, James is sitting on the couch, his parents on the chairs opposite of him.

“Don’t be, I’m doing okay.” He sneers back, feeling himself closing off more and more with each second. He refuses to meet their eye, feels angry, at everything and everyone, and doesn’t want to talk at all, but they’re forcing him, they always do, it’s horribly annoying. These are the only two people on earth he can be his true unapologetic self with, he tends to lash out in situations like these, when he finally can. He knows it’s not fair, they’re only trying to help, they don’t deserve him getting mad, but he can’t help it. It’s hard enough to always keep his true feelings under control and pretend to be an angel, can’t he have this? Isn’t he allowed to be a bitch sometimes too?

“You look tired.”

“Of course I’m fucking tired!” He cries out, kicking at the coffee table and watching the candles on top move for a moment. “I’m never not tired.” He adds, he doesn’t want to sound pathetic, but if they’re so desperate for the truth they can have it. Most people with his disability don’t even start university, and if they do the chances of graduating are terrifyingly slim, do they think any of this comes easy to him? He sacrifices so much to live life like others do, and even then it’s different. Even still he’s always the odd one out. It’s hard to determine whether all that effort pays off.

“Don’t you think it’s best to take things a little easier.”

“No.” He replies briskly. He’s not going to take anything a little easier. No more of that bullshit. No more facilities, quiet rooms, extra time on exams, not taking all the classes, he’s done with that cheating on life, making things easier and easier. He’s an adult now, he has to do things like everyone else does them, not like this pathetic sick version of him might prefer. Fuck that version of him.

“You could take two classes per term instead of three.” His mom suggests. They try hard to accommodate to his needs, but no parent signs up for a kid as difficult as James. For them, this life has become normal, but to other families what they’ve gone through, what they still go through, seems insane. Normal kids start becoming independent and separate themselves from their parents, but James still needs them for everything. He’s twenty, and his parents do his administration, they make his emails and calls, accompany him to appointments, as if he’s still an unknowing child who can hardly spell his own name. It’s ridiculous.

“No.” He says again.

“You can’t keep going on like this, don’t you know what will happen?” His dad asks, his mom babies him, maybe too much, his dad is more sensible, wants for James to become his own person. He’s hinting at James’ last year of school, of course, when he was diagnosed with a burn-out and forced out of school. He’s not doing that again.

“I don’t care.” He mutters, and he doesn’t. He could’ve kept going then, and he’ll keep going now. As a zombie, sure, but he doesn’t need to be alive to travel through time. He can turn off his mind, and survive.

“And what if you start therapy again?” His mom suggests, he slowly looks up from his knuckles, which are bleeding and raw, and focuses on a point next to her face, “I don’t want to sit and waste my time and listen to some middle-aged dumb fuck tell me things I already thought of myself.” He feels the corners of his mouth being pulled down, his brows are heavy, he’s really fucking angry, upset, maybe? Isn’t that what he does, turn everything bad into angry so it’s easier to determine and express? Whatever, he hardly cares right now, he only needs to go back to Edinburgh soon where he can’t be babied or forced into therapy.

“You don’t have to go with the first one, you could see a couple until you find a good connection with someone. It’s valuable, and… you need it, James. You can’t always do everything on your own.”

He shakes his head, every single idiot who’s sick enough to want to be a therapist is someone he doesn’t want to be in a room with, “It’s working out perfectly fine for me.”

His dad sighs, sits forward on the chair, accepting defeat, they know very well how James feels about therapy, “Allright, if we can’t persuade you to go to therapy, at least do yourself a favor and start studying part-time.”

“No one has to know if you take fewer classes.”

“No, I don’t want this. I want to be normal.” His voice cracks, he bites on his lip, great, now he’s sad.

“What’s normal? How do you define normal? No one is normal” That bullshit again. James sighs, they just don’t get it. His parents are what people think James is. Popular, positive, well-loved, except minus the mental illness. They try hard for him, but they cannot comprehend how every second of every day is corrupted by his mind, how it limits every thing he does, influences everything he says, and never leaves him. How badly he wishes to be like others.

“They are normal!” He hisses, pointing at the ceiling, “I’m not letting this thing ruin my time at university the way it did in school.” He’s not being a failure. Not again. Taking half his classes at school was mortifying, and he’s not repeating it in university. He’s not letting his mind win. He won’t. This time he’ll be normal. This time he’s not a failure.

Regulus stares at his phone, it’s Christmas eve. His birthday. The day Sirius left.

It’s always a little harder today. Everything hurts just a little more, and he wonders why Sirius didn’t come back for him all day long. Was he just not worth the trouble?

Barty and Evan got some booze and put sorry balloons all over his place, and now they’re passed out on the couch, snoring on top of one another.

He’s got two numbers saved. He’d like to call both.

James isn’t very careful with his phone, always losing it and forgetting where he put it. Regulus found his phone in the locker room the other day, got in by typing in James’ birthday, and found Sirius’ phone number. He put it in his own phone. That and James’ number.

He could just call Sirius, be honest, say he’s here in Edinburgh, that he’d like to see him again. Does he, though? He’s not sure. Part of him wants nothing more than to have Sirius back, but the other part wants him far away, and resents him for leaving. For never coming back. Never contacting Regulus. Never even letting him know he was still alive. For his rebellion at home, how he made everything more difficult. How he never understood Regulus, or even tried. For coming out of it better, with a house, a degree, nice friends, a life, as if none of that ever even happened. For moving on. For all of it.

Regulus never could move on.

For now, it’s too soon. Too sudden. Too scary.

He could call James?

Tell him that he doesn’t mind what he saw, and what happened. That nothing’s changed and James is still James to him, he doesn’t have to be embarrassed, or to run and hide. He could confess that he likes him.

Too scary.

He sinks down on the couch, head in his hands, staring at James’ number until he’s memorized it, and coming up with all the possible things he could tell him. He knows James quit, that he’s never showing his face again, and will avoid Regulus at all costs now. Regulus isn’t new to this thing, and now it appears he understands James more than they initially could’ve thought.

All he wants it to let him know that Regulus won’t be weird about it, that James could come back, that it’s all okay.

He really did like James, more than he allowed himself to realize, and now it’s all a big mess.

He doesn’t end up calling.

James is sitting on the edge of the bath rub. Sirius is drooling on his pillow, Peter snores really loud, and Remus is still reading, so he needed to get away from that room. He feels sad, and he doesn’t quite know why because there are about a millions things that sadden him but none are valid because there’s a boy drooling in his bad who has undoubtedly had it much worse than James, so why, out of the two of them, is he being a baby about this? Why can’t he just suck it up and move on.

Carefully he removes the bandages, staring at his arm. It’s healing nicely, probably won’t leave a scar, sadly. He’d hoped that it would’ve left some really bad scarring that would’ve covered his other scars. A burn scar is less weird than his lines, which anyone with half a brain can realize were put there by himself.

Even that looks pathetic now, there are people with real issues, Remus’ scars are obviously from fights, accidents, maybe even surgeries, Sirius has scars he won’t talk about, and James does it to himself. How stupid? He’s not even sure why he does it anymore.

With a frustrated sigh he sits back down on the cold edge, digging up his phone from the pocket of his jeans. He looks for Regulus’ number and stares at it.

He really liked Regulus.

Would it be weird if he called him now to wish him a happy Christmas? To thank him for his help? Maybe throw in a bunch of lies and make up a story to explain his scars. Make Regulus believe he’s normal again so that James can go back to work and continue seeing Regulus?

He turns off his phone, suppresses the urge to throw it against the wall, instead kicks against a pile a toilet paper, and silently walks back to his room, throwing the phone in between some piles of mess so that he won’t find it for a while, can isolate himself until he does.

He doesn’t call Regulus, but he does dream of him.

When James starts to snore, Sirius puts his head over the covers and observes Peter and Remus for a while. They’re fast asleep, without a doubt, and he pulls the blanket back over his head, curling up underneath it, and he gets out his phone.

He types in his name, as he does most nights, in the hopes he’ll find something new. A clue. A picture. A location. Anything.

Nothing. There’s nothing.

Where could Regulus be?

Where on earth, could he possibly have gone? Paris? He did always like Paris.

Sirius regrets what happened that night. With Mary he claims that if he could go back he wouldn’t change a thing, he tells it to himself sometimes, believes it even, but on nights like these when it all hurts a little more, honesty is difficult, and he knows if he could go back now he wouldn’t leave without Regulus.

Of course the situation didn’t exactly allow for them running away together, there was the time pressure, and, well… the rest, but he could’ve tried harder.

Still, after all these years, there’s that feeling buried deep down in his chest. Right where it hurts, where he can’t reach and get it out, where it sits underneath his skin and nags at him and eats at him from within, the sting of it is unbearable, the wound doesn’t seem to ever heal, all he can do is carry it with him from one day to the next and pretend it doesn’t hurt, with nothing left to do about it. He longs for Regulus, for the early times when things were good, and even for the fights, the silence, the loathing, at least then they still had each other in a way.

Regulus’ current absence, this separation, the severance of the already withering bond they attempted to keep aflame like a dying fire, it feels like death.

Sirius knows he died that night he left. Part of him did, at the very least, the part that was Regulus.

He never tried hard enough with Regulus.

They’re going to try to drag Lily out of the house. Away from the misery, death, the smells, the very pregnant and married Petunia and all that other shit. She’s sitting on the couch, looking catatonic. James has never seen her like this.

Lily is the kind of girl not to get worried, about nothing, because she’s smart and wise and she knows what to do in any situation they’ve ever encountered. She’s always been the one pulling him through his shit, getting him from one day to the next. Now she needs him to do that for her.

Her eyes are distant, she’s not joking, or smiling, cheering everyone up as she does, she didn’t even correct Sirius when he made a grammar mistake! James is worried to death.

“Lils?” He tries, he’s almost afraid to get near her. He doesn’t know how to deal with this. He doesn’t understand what she’s feeling. Or what he’s feeling. What is he supposed to do? How does he help?

“Where’d you leave your scarf?” She doesn’t even seem to notice he’s speaking to her.

“I’ll get it.” Mary says softly, her hand grazing James’ back as she smiles at him.

“Lily, come on, we’re going to bake cookies at James’.”

Her head snaps out now. If there’s one thing Lily can’t ever resist, not even now apparently, it’s baking cookies.

“Taylor Swift’s chai cookies?”

“Sure, we’ll bake those.”

She jumps up from the couch, looking more alert, “And play games? James have you set up the tree? Maybe we can do some extra decorating?” She accepts the scarf Mary hands her and hurriedly puts on her coat. “Can we see all of the ‘Santa Clause’ movies? Oh! I’ll grab my DVD’s!” Before they know it she’s racing up the stairs to her room, and James and the girls look at each other, sighing with relief.

“James, we’re not going to cure cancer.” Marlene says, looking worried, biting on her lower lip.

“No, we’re not.” He agrees. He just hopes they can be enough for Lily to get her through this.

Most Christmases aren’t as magical as in the movies. It rains most of the time, the sky is grey, there’s mud everywhere, and it’s just a little too warm to put on a fire.

It’s different this year. It’s been snowing steadily for days, and just as they walk out the door it starts again, slowly at first, but then the sky darkens and it comes down on them in large clumps. The snow on the streets hasn’t melted yet, and has turned the sidewalks into sheets of extremely slippery ice. The town has been decorated with trees and twinkling lights on the street lanterns, it’s boxing day, and people are getting groceries and going on walks, it’s busy and there is actual magic in the air, magic like James hasn’t felt since he was a child.

It's almost as if nature is making it up to Lily, who loves Christmas just as much, if not more than James, and has come alive again. Her cheeks are red, and nose redder, she can’t get the smile off her face and is doing twirls on the ice while James is carefully shuffling forwards on his feet to avoid slipping and breaking something.

“James can’t ice skate! We should go ice skating tonight! It’s so entertaining to see him panic!” Lily exclaims, getting laughs out of Mary who she’s making do pirouettes on the ice. Marlene and Dorcas are holding hands and smirking at each other. James is fifth wheeling and not too happy about it.

“You know why I can’t skate.” He shoots back, and Lily looks at him apologetically, “We can still go tonight?” She begs, and he rolls his eyes and gives in with a sigh.

“Ah, even I remember how you’d always sit at the side of the rink by yourself.” Marlene grins, “You always looked on the verge of crying.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re just jealous because I’m good at every sport except rolling around on knifes trying not to crack my skull on the stupid death ice.” He mutters. In reality, he just couldn’t stand the crowds, the loud sounds, the people bustling about everywhere. He wasn’t diagnosed at the time, not until he turned eighteen, and his parents could never understand why it was such an awful place for him to be.

Now it’s just another piece of his childhood trauma that could’ve been avoided if only his therapist at the time was able to catch the signs. His obvious issues and struggling were ignored because he didn’t cause anyone problems. The people meant to help him failed him, time and time again. James will never not mourn the person he could’ve been had he not been forgotten and looked over, kicked aside until he got so troubled therapists wouldn’t help the boy beyond the point of saving.

Rather than helping him early on and making valuable changes, his parents were told he was just a bit dramatic and attention deprived. Attention deprived? Him? With his parents? There’s no child in the world who got more attention and love and support than James did.

He’s their miracle baby. James got his name because he was the one who followed, as his name means. The boy who took another’s place, coming after, a replacement. Otherwise, it is also known as a name that means perseverance, strength, legacy.

His parent’s first boy was a stillborn, and due to his mom’s wavering fertility, that first one had already been a godsent miracle, another one? It wasn’t likely. His parents prepared for a life without children and went through many years of IVF treatments, until at last, one of them made it.

The one that made it was James.

They never tried again after him, he was enough. They thought he’d be enough.

James knows he must be a disappointment, all his parents prayed for was a healthy boy, and they didn’t get it. Still, their love comes naturally and without effort, easily. They claim not to mind the trials he’s put them through, but James nevertheless feels at fault for it all.

What would’ve happened if one of the embryos before him had made it?

At least his parents wouldn’t have been stuck with this burden of a son.

The alarm clock goes off, Lily is flipping through her massive stack of DVD’s to try and decide which one she’ll make them watch, and James goes to get the cookies out of the oven.

“Where’d you get those?” Sirius asks, yawning sleepily as he enters the kitchen and sees the cookies.

“We got the ingredients in a place called the store, have you ever heard of that?” Lily tells him, “And then we baked them, do you understand what that means?”

Sirius blows out air, “Oh, I see Lily. You’re not getting my special hot chocolate.”

“I’ll make it for you, Lils. He just adds some Bailey’s, it’s not all that mysterious.” Remus says, pushing Sirius out of the way and setting up eight glasses, “James, without for you, right?” James nods at him and brings the tray of cookies to the living room.

“I’ll remember this, Remus!” Sirius shrieks, punching at Remus’ sides to get him to move, but Remus won’t budge.

His parents are visiting friends and won’t be home until late, so they’ve got the place to themselves. They’re all in pajamas, it’s getting dark now, and the snow hasn’t stopped yet, Sirius is in charge of music and they turned off all the lights except for the candles and Christmas lights.

Halfway through the movie Sirius and Marlene’s attention spans have run out, and they start whispering to each other, so it’s not long until they pause it altogether and accept their defeat. At least they tried.

“Mmh, Remus what did you put in mine?” James exclaims, taking a sip of his hot chocolate.

“Love.” Remus replies with a smirk. Sirius rolls his eyes and sticks out his tongue, “He added caramel drizzle.” Sirius reveals, earning himself a punch from Remus.

“It’s great, want a sip?” He offers to Pete.

Peter looks from the mug to James, silent, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. “What? I thought you really liked caramel?” He says, and then hears Marlene snort loudly when Peter fails to answer yet again.

“What is it?” James demands, seeing all of his friends are giggling at him now.

“I just don’t want chlamydia.” Peter says softly, eyes cast on the floor, wringing his hands together.

“What the fuck are you talking about!” James exclaims. Chlamydia? Where did they get that from?

Peter’s stuttering now, working really hard to avoid meeting James’ eyes. “You have chlamydia, I just don’t want it, sorry James, but thanks for the offer.”

He looks around the room, face growing hot with embarrassment, they’re all biting back giggles, “I don’t have fucking chlamydia!” He yells at them, in utter disbelief.

“You don’t?” Remus asks, sipping his own hot chocolate and looking at James curiously.

“Do all of you think I have chlamydia?”

Sirius lets out a laugh, “Everyone thinks you have chlamydia.”

“Who’s everyone?”

“Like, all of Edinburgh, probably.”

His mouth falls right open, he feels it sink and sink and hit middle earth and unhinge and what the actual fuck? James is careful and sensible when it comes to this! He doesn’t have STD’s, nor spread them, and especially not to the entire campus! Do they think he’s really that much of a player? Is he not sitting right next to the Sirius Orion Black, known for holding a certain record? Do they have the two of them confused? Honestly, he wouldn’t put it past Sirius, but him?

“What the fuck? Why?”

“Haven’t you heard? Everyone says you have chlamydia and you spread it all around campus.” Peter says, defending himself. He’s actually scooting away from James now. Oh, great, so hundreds of people now know of James’ horrifying reputation when it’s not even the truth.

He sits in silence, waiting patiently for the universe to put an end to this misery. He needs just the littles thing, an aneurysm, brain bleed, fallen tree, car driving into the house, robbery gone wrong, he’ll take anything at this point.

“I was dating Sophia, how would I have spread it around campus?” He manages to stammer eventually.

Sirius clicks his tongue, very clearly enjoying this. Oh, there’s that mischievous twinkle in his eyes that makes Remus shit his pants and lock himself in his room until the insanity subsides. Could this just be one of Sirius’ pranks? Sometimes he doesn’t really think them out that well. He’s a tad impulsive and believes comedy is more important than feelings, it doesn’t always end in a happily ever after. “Well, people think the spreading happened before-“

James jumps up from the couch, positively losing it. “Do you guys actually believe this?”

“…Yes?”

He sinks back into his seat, throwing his head back and wondering why unfortunate shit like this always happens to him.

Hmm, but this isn’t the style of Sirius’ pranks. Besides, he has enough brains to realize the consequences of this.

No it’s someone else.

“Oh my god! So someone spread a rumor I gave chlamydia to people?”

“I bet Sophia did it, that bitch!” Lily yells out, waving her fist in the air with, murder in her eyes.

“Ugh, when I get my hands on her!” Mary agrees.

But James couldn’t care less about the devil right now, he can only think of his reputation. His beautiful, stunning, lovely reputation he worked so hard to build, he puts so much energy in. And now it’s ruined? Or made better? He’s not quite sure which of the two. “I don’t have chlamydia, and I haven’t done that many girls! What do you guys think of me?”

“That you have chlamydia and fuck a lot of girls.”

“Jesus, Sirius-“

“Or boys, whatever you like.” Marlene adds in with a grin.

James feels his eyes pop out of his skull. His vision goes black.

“Please don’t tell me the rumor is that I gave it to boys.” He stammers, holding his hands over his eyes because he simply can’t look into this awful world that’s done him so wrong for one more second. The music still plays as if nothing is wrong. Honestly, was he that mean to Sophia? He felt his actions were justified, and the things he said were nothing but the truth.

When the silence gets too deafening he peeks opens one eye, how has he never heard of this rumor? Why do all of his friends know? “Well-“ Remus starts, looking at Sirius for backup.

“Oh, god.” James buries his face in his hands, this is definitely bad for his reputation. The worst. A nightmare.

“We should start a rumor that Sophia actually has a dick just as revenge!” Sirius offers, hobbling over to James on his reindeer slippers of which the eyes wobble around, and it has lights and music starts playing whenever he puts his weight on them and they are horrendous but he just had to have them. A very static crackling version of ‘Jingle Bells’ is playing, the lights bounce off the walls, Sirius plops himself down on the couch, rubbing over James’ back soothingly.

“That’ll make me look even worse!” He cries out.

He sighs, squeezing the base of James’ neck and resting his head on James’ shoulder. “Yeah, it probably will.”

Remus sucks in a large breath, the same way he did when he was about to ask Sirius about his little brother, “But, James… do you like… you know?” He mutters, growing a little red.

“I’m going to kill myself.” James announces, but Sirius throws both arms around him and locks him in place.  “Noo, we like you too much, don’t kill yourself.”

James needs to make this okay. He needs to put out a message, or hang up flyers, or do anything to set the record straight. “Wait, okay, so you guys think I’ve fucked so many guys that half of Edinburgh has the chlamydia I gave them.”

“The rumor says you swing both ways, so yeah, guys and girls.” Lily confirms.

He’s feeling nauseous now.

“If I ever see Sophia you guys are going to have to hold me down.”

“But are you?” Remus tries again. Sirius is still rubbing James’ back, planting the occasional kiss on his cheek.

“Am I what?”

“Are you… bi? Or something else?” Remus presses.

“I don’t know what the fuck I am, I don’t think about it, ever!” Why is he having this conversation with all seven of his friends staring at him like he’s a statue in a museum that needs to be dissected and analyzed. He hates this. Hates, hates it.

“And Loverboy?”

Headaches now too. What does Regulus have to do with this? It’s bad enough James will never see him again. He can’t get the look of pity in Regulus’ eyes out of his thoughts, he much prefers the glares and the sneers, that pity just killed him. “What about him?”

“Do you like him?”

Probably. Maybe. Possibly. He might have, sure. But it’s no use now.

Regulus sat with him while James had a panic attack, locked up in the bathroom stall, draping cold, wet towels over his arm while he held James’ hand and talked to him like he was a toddler having a tantrum. It was humiliating beyond anything he’s ever experienced.

He will never be able to look him in the eyes. Or be near him. Just the memory makes him cringe.

At least he knows he was right about him, Regulus might behave like a villain but behind all those layers of defense there’s a very sweet boy. It’s better to know that than to have nothing.

“I don’t fucking know, but I quit so it’s not like I’ll ever see him again anyway.” He shrugs, hoping his face won’t betray him.

He can be brave about this. They were never friends anyway. Pretend-enemies, acquaintances, coworkers. But not friends. James knows next to nothing about him, and Regulus he’s left mostly in the dark about himself. It’s not as big of a deal as he makes it out to be.

Lily will have to live without her dad, Sirius can manage to live without his little brother, surely James can live without Regulus?

“Why did you quit?”

He scoffs, “Because I got set on fire! Isn’t that enough reason?”

“Did Loverboy see it?”

“Loverboy was the one who put out the fire, if he hadn’t saved me I wouldn’t have gotten away with just a few minor burns. So no, I don’t want to see him again, it was too embarrassing. He tried to take off my shirt.” Oh fuck, he didn’t meant to add that last part.

“He tried to take off your shirt? Loverboy actively attempted to see you naked? Was this before the fire? Is he more of a slut than you are?” Sirius shrieks in his ear.

“Do we know about Loverboy’s sexuality status?” Lily muses, grinning widely. Even when he was dating Sophia she kept trying to set him up with anyone who so much as looked in James’ direction.

“I’m really hating this conversation.” James is attempting to sink in between the couch cushions and be transported into another world, if it can happen in the fairytales it can happen to him.

“Okay, we’ll talk about something else… Anyone..? Anything?”

The room is silent for a moment, everyone cracking their brains in search of something to say that will change the subject.

“My mom died when I was five. Car crash.” Remus says soberly.

“Oh my god!” They all exclaim, and thank god James’ whole situation is forgotten in the blink of an eye. Remus winks at him, he always knows just what to say to take the attention off James whenever he needs it.

“Remus!” Sirius leaves James for what it is, back on his feet, or the reindeer slippers, and jumps back onto the other couch, grabbing Remus’ shoulders and roughly shaking him around.

“Wow, okay, so Sirius has a secret little brother, James is gay, and now Remus’ mom is dead? Is there anything else we don’t know?” Marlene concludes.

Remus holds up his hands in defense, “What! You wanted to talk about something else! I just thought, Lily, maybe if you’d know about me… it’s just that I get it, I’m here for you.”

“Yes, thanks, Rem.” She says softly, smiling.

“How the fuck do you even put this on?” They’re at the ice skating rink, the ice is definitely artificial, and looks awfully bumpy, and there’s lots of dangerous children racing over the ice as if they’re professionals.

Remus can already see visions of him falling over one of the bumps, sliding on his belly over the ice, and then one of those scary children skating over his hand and slicing off all of his fingers.

And it’s so cold, and it’s dark, and Remus’ coat isn’t warm, and he didn’t mean to tell them about his mom but Lily’s dad is fucking dying and he’s the only one who’s also lost a parent and James looked as if he wanted to leak into the couch and never return and no one else seems to notice he doesn’t always appreciate all the attention.

“You don’t know how to put the skates on?” Sirius asks, sitting down on the dirty, wet bench next to him and putting on his own. They’re rented, wet on the inside, the sole is squishy, the blade is rusted, he’d rather die than put them on. He’s going to have to burn his sock. And maybe also his feet.

“I’ve never done this before.”

“What, skating?”

Why do children shout so much? There’s ungodly amounts of snot in sight. That ice is definitely bumpy. James and Lily keep running into people from their old school, and Sirius won’t be Sirius if he’s not going to force one of the plastic penguins on Remus that are meant for toddlers who can’t skate yet, and then laugh about it and make him remember it until the end of time.

It's the smarter option not to tell him he can’t skate.

But Sirius’ eyes are so large and grey and Remus can just feel them penetrating his soul so what’s even the point in lying to him? “Nope, never done it before.”

“Aww, I’ll teach you. It’s going to be the best time ever.” See, that’s what scares him. He can see Sirius’ brain activate, and it won’t end well for Remus. That brain barely ever activates, and never for the right purposes.

“No, you know what, I think I’ll just get some tea and watch you guys.” He says quickly, putting the skates down and getting up.

“Rem!” Sirius is pulling at the sleeve of his coat, frowning, moving the fabric in between his fingers.

“Huh, does this coat keep you warm?”

“Yes, Sirius.”

“I’ve got an extra one for you.”

“You’re half my size.”

“I can get you one.”

“I’m perfectly warm.”

“You don’t want a little cuddle from me to keep you warm on this cold and dark Christmas day, Remus Lupin?”

Remus groans, trying to free his arm from Sirius’ grip and get the fuck out of here. They pretend the kiss never happened, and never addressed it, but they both know. And things like this, when Sirius shows off his flirting, it makes Remus lose his shit. Why can’t he just be normal? Why can’t they be normal friends?

“A little smooch?”

“Sirius.”

“Fine, will you skate with me?” He settles on, patting the bench beside him. He’s got the devil in his eyes, Remus doesn’t trust him one bit. He’s too mischievous, always playing pranks, he likes to come in Remus’ room when he sleeps and rearrange the furniture and then watch him until Remus wakes up to two eyes staring at him, or put yoghurt in his shampoo bottle, the other day he taped down the toilet. Remus nearly killed him. But put that boy on ice and he’ll find a way to do something stupid.

“I’ll be nice!” Sirius promises, pouting his lips. It always makes him look like a puppy up to no good. How is Remus expected to say no to that? And the worst is, Sirius knows it. He knows he can ask Remus for anything, and Remus will not be able to find the strength within to deny him whatever he wants. It’s Sirius, you know, how could he?

“Fine, I’ll do one lap around the ice and then you pay for my tea.” He scoffs, as if he’s really, really hating what Sirius is making him do.

“Yay!” Sirius jumps up and starts walking over the wooden boards on his blades, effortlessly, and watches over his shoulder to see if Remus follows.

When he notices Remus didn’t, he walks back, standing before him and looking down with a frown.

“Remus, it’s mean to back out once you’ve made a promise.”

“I didn’t promise a thing.”

“Have you ever been on skates, just once?”

“I just told you I never have!” Remus shoots back, mesmerized by the snowflakes settling on Sirius’ lashes, the flush on his pale cheeks, and wow, the greyish sky and the snow falling around him really makes his eyes pop.

“Not even when you were young?”

“Never, Sirius.”

Sirius frowns again, “You’re so fucking weird.” He mumbles, and grabs both of Remus’ hands with his own, pulling him to his feet.

Remus stands unsteadily, his ankles sagging, trying to figure out how he’s supposed to not fall over on these things.

But, oh, Sirius is holding his hands.

They. Are. Holding. Hands.

“Okay, just step with me.” Sirius says, his voice reverting to those gentle soft tones they barely get to hear through all the loudness and the shouts. Remus really likes this Sirius. The boy he becomes when it’s just the two of them. When he gets quiet, and a little shy, blushing and stuttering in between the bursts of charisma.

Do the girls he flirts with know he only blushes for Remus?

Sirius sets a step back, looking at him encouragingly and holding him tight when Remus puts all his weight on Sirius’ hands and sets the first scary step.

“Good, Rem!” He breathes out, a smile cracking open his face. “Come, just a few more.” And he sets another step, waiting as if he’s the epitome of patience until Remus has followed his lead.

“This one’s a little scarier, but I’ve got you, yeah? I won’t let you fall.” He promises as he steps on the ice.

Remus does too, his foot sliding a little over the ice, and the second one is more difficult, because now he has to step on the ice with his other foot, but the one already on ice doesn’t feel so stable.

He believes Sirius with all his heart, and does it, and Sirius has him, not letting go, and pulls him on the ice.

“See, you’re great at this!” Sirius says with a chuckle, he’s a natural on the ice, Remus can tell. Moving with ease and grace, even more elegant than he is on solid floor.

Fuck, he’s so beautiful.

He can see it clearly now, who Sirius truly is. Red cheeks, curls falling out of his knitted hat, pupils blown when he speaks to Remus while the snow falls around him and the lights twinkle behind him. He’s like a Christmas symphony, like one you listened to a lot during childhood but then forgot, until suddenly it’s there again and you recognize it, bathing in its familiarity, the sweet, warm feelings it calls inside of you, leaving you just a little breathless, the melancholy sounds of the choir slowly swelling, the wistful strings intensifying, until it sounds like the sky cracks open, that’s Sirius.

This isn’t their first run together, he suddenly realizes, Sirius and he have known each other since the beginning of time, and will know each other until far after that.

The thought steals all the breath from his lungs, does Sirius feel it too? Does he knows? Or is Remus going insane from all the shouting here?

Sirius starts skating backwards, tugging at Remus’ hands to get him to slide on after him, and after some words of encouragement Remus doesn’t just let himself be pulled along, but skates himself, and the look on Sirius’ face is truly priceless, he looks so proud and happy Remus could cry.

He's doing well, according to Sirius’ sweet words, and Sirius is just about to let go of one hand and see how he does when someone races past them and bumps into Remus hard.

Furious, he turns his head to the side, and sees someone who looks a suspicious amount like their very own Peter Pettigrew racing off while glancing over his shoulder.

Remus loses his balance, and was about to fall anyway, but of course there just had to be a bump in the ice right there.

His skates slip over the ice, he sees visions of himself slipping and sliding into eternity like in those videos of people falling in a cartoon like way, and he tips forwards.

Sirius said he’d catch him, right?

He holds true to his promise, wrapping his arms around Remus’ waist and grabbing him, Remus’ heart is racing inside his chest, he just hopes Sirius won’t fall too.

And then his hands are on Sirius’ chest, and Sirius is still holding him, and their bodies press together and he’s just so warm. And their faces are close, and Sirius smells of hot chocolate and candy canes, and his lips are slightly chapped from the cold and he’s made about a million jokes about it already asking anyone who will listen to help him moist his lips.

“Did you just fall for me, Remus John Lupin?” He says in a laugh, arching one eyebrow, still not letting go of Remus.

“Sirius.” Is all Remus manages, because Sirius’ lips are so close, and he could kiss him right now and he think Sirius might let him. They kissed before. Did they? Was that real? Has he actually kissed Sirius? He was so drunk, and can barely remember how good it was and maybe they should try again just to help his memory a bit.

“I…” Sirius falters, there’s the blush, fuck, Remus is addicted to that blush. The sudden bright red in Sirius’ pale face, the sheepish grin that goes with it, the blotches in his neck.

“My lips are a bit dry do you… you also have lips- obviously, I- fuck, forget it.” He stammers, letting go of Remus quickly and stepping backwards.

“Oi, James, hand me that penguin!” He shouts, Remus misses the warmth of his body against his own. The cold seeps back into his bones, why can’t Sirius hold him forever?

James gets one of the bright orange, plastic penguins, shoving it in Remus’ direction.

“Go on, you were good before but this will make you the best.” Sirius says, and Remus glares at him before stooping down, but the stupid thing is designed for children and Remus is very tall, so he nearly has to double over.

“This really suits you, Rem! I’ll come get you in a bit!”

“Sirius, do not fucking leave me alone-“

“Bye, bye.” And off he goes with James, the two of them skating with ease, bumping into each other, joking and laughing, sharing glances and exchanging soft touches, just the simplest gestures to show their natural love for each other. The two of them are something else entirely, as much as Remus liked to tease Sirius about it first, he can’t deny those two are soulmates. They belong together, it’s as simple as that.

Remus wishes he could have that with someone. With Sirius. In another way though.

Sirius skates past, “You okay?”

“You won’t be when we get off this ice.” Remus threatens, clutching the stupid penguin, shuffling on the ice with fear in his throat because oh my god why are parents letting their unhinged psychopathic children on the ice when other people also exist?

He laughs, bold and loud, linking arms with James and going for another round.

When he comes past him again he stops, gazing at Remus with a searching look in his eyes to ensure he’s not too mad, and then he takes away the penguin, grabbing Remus’ hands and guides him to the side, where Remus can stand comfortably against the wooden fence, next to the parents who, like him, are afraid of cracking every last of their brittle bones on the ice.

“So, a cookie to go with the tea and then you skate back on your own and won’t smother me in my sleep tonight?”

“Only if you bring me a chocolate cookie.”

Sirius winks at him, Remus can’t be angry even if he wanted to and watches him skate off the ice, waddle over to the stand with the drinks and food, and get in line.

“You’re not too angry, are you?” James asks, skating until he’s next to Remus. He puts his arm around Remus, pressing their bodies together to warm him up.

James sucks in a deep breath, laying his cheek against Remus’ in that effortless way of his, because he knows people adore him anyway, and no one would deny a little love and attention from him. Oh, if only Remus could be like James his life would be so much better, happier, uncomplicated, he’d kill to be like James. Even the sun itself must burn with envy when he smiles.

“I knew you’d say no, so I had mom buy you a new coat today without asking, and I don’t care how angry you get at me, you’re keeping the coat.” James says quickly, there’s snow piling on top of his glasses, Remus already knew about the coat, James’ mom had checked with him to make sure he wouldn’t be embarrassed because of it.

“I’m not angry, but I will pay your mom back when I get paid.” He replies, maybe James will say yes, his mom walked out the room when Remus offered it.

“No, you won’t, I won’t accept it, and neither will she.” James says, stubbornly, like the spitting image of his mom. The only reason Remus doesn’t deny their kindness is because he knows his own mom would’ve thought it sweet. He misses her, but he enjoys to let James’ mom fuss over him. He hasn’t felt that kind of love and warmth in a very long time. His parents live and die for him, they’d do anything for him. James is their miracle, Remus has heard them say it at least once every day. His parents cherish him like nothing he’s ever seen. Yet another reason he wishes he’d been born inside of James’ body.

“Then I’ll break into your house and leave the money.”

“Ah, that’s nice, a reversed burglary?”

“Exactly.”

“All right, I guess that’s okay, at least it’s something else, right? Will you do it like in ‘Home Alone’? For the holiday spirits?”

“Are you saying you’d like to throw an iron at my face?”

James cups Remus’ face, smirking at him, “You’re too handsome, Remus, it’s no fun being friends with you when it only feels like competition.”

“Pfft, says you. I wouldn’t be able to get enough people to fuck me to spread chlamydia like that.” He scoffs.

“You haven’t tried, I would say yes.”

Sirius is still in line, Remus has to give him credit for that, he’d assumed Sirius would’ve gotten distracted already, but he’s dutifully standing there. If only it had been a clear night he could’ve asked Sirius to tell stories about the stars, but he guesses he can do with watching him twirl around in the falling snow.

“James… be honest with me, do you like Loverboy?”

James nods solemnly, “Yeah, yeah I really do- did. But I won’t see him again, and he despised me anyway, so it’s fine. I’ll fall in love someday, I think, probably, that’s how life works.” There’s doubt in his voice that takes Remus by surprise. James? James Potter doubting whether he’ll fall in love? The boy falls in love with anyone he meets. He confessed to having a crush on Remus, and then on Sirius, on Mary, on Dorcas, on the girl standing behind the bar at the pub and the guy who walks his dog in their street. A person would have to be out of their mind not to love him back. Or be called Lily Evans.

They still haven’t told anyone how that ended.

“As long as it’s not Sophia.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, it will never happen again.”

“Would we have liked him?” Remus asks, pretending to protest when James wraps his arms around him, but it’s James, sweet James, he won’t say no.

“I think so, you just have to be able to look past the sneering and bullying. You and Lily would’ve adored him, he’s bookish.” James says sticking out his tongue and rolling his eyes.

“You’re also bookish.”

“Yeah but I’m not a nerd, Remus, that’s a very important distinction.”

“No you’re just a bookish guy with chlamydia.”

James sighs with a lot of theatrics, “You definitely would’ve loved him.”

“James? Don’t you mind liking boys?”

He turns his head to look at Remus, “What? Of course not. It’s just love. Love’s love, whether it’s a girl or a boy, I don’t care.”

“Hmm.”

“Do you?”

“What?”

“Mind. Like Sirius, whichever.”

Something flames up in his abdomen. How the fuck did James figure that out? And if James knows… then Peter just did the pushing on purpose. And… Sirius might know? Oh, no.

“I don’t like Sirius.” He snarls.

“Okay.” James shrugs.

The girls are sitting on the wet benches, clutching teas and eating Christmas waffles, Peter has joined Sirius, the time has arrived where the families start gathering their tiny demons and take off, but instead couples take their places. Disgusting couples that kiss and hold hands and look far too happy.

Boy and girls and boys and girls and- a boy and a boy.

Sirius has finally made it to the front of the line, probably flirting and bragging and being charming by now, slamming his card on the counter and ordering Remus all of the cookies they have, which he will force him to eat until he’s sick and throwing up.

“My mom was very religious. I’m baptized and always went to the church on Sundays with her… I’m just afraid that if I let myself like Sirius I won’t see her again.” Remus confesses, feeling James tighten his grip around his shoulders. He’s silent, waiting for more, so Remus gives it to him. “I really want to see her again, James, and if she believes in heaven I have to make sure I get there too.”

James whistles, “Fuck, Remus, that’s complicated.”

“I’m aware.”

He’s rendered James Potter speechless.

That’s not something many people can manage.

“But if God won’t let you in because of love, do you even want to be there?” He asks eventually. There’s no judgement in his voice, or a lack of understanding. It’s just a plain question, to comprehend the situation better. That’s James, genuine and kind. He’d be a much better match for Sirius, but the two don’t like each other like that.

“Yes, I don’t care about God or heaven, I care about mom and if I never see her again… I just can’t bear that thought. It’s not an option.”

James nods slowly, formulating an answer, absent-mindedly moving around Remus’ fingers as he thinks. “Sirius is a great guy, though.”

“I know.” He groans, throwing his head back.

What would mom have thought if she was still alive? He was so young, he never got around to asking her questions like that, or what she thought about any of it. He thinks she could’ve appreciated Sirius’ wild nature, he would’ve entertained her, but would she accept Remus to like him like that?

He knows his dad doesn’t.

After his mom’s death his dad lost it. The love of his life was gone, no goodbyes, no last kiss, no more dancing and cooking and dressing up for dinner, no more future together. They would never get to grow old together as they dreamed to. Remus never got the siblings he was promised. Or the mom. No more birthdays with her, holidays, graduation, advice on his first kiss.

All of it gone in the blink of an eye.

Just because of a stupid accident.

His dad was never the same, and Remus grew up lonely and without the love he’d been promised.

“I think he likes you as much as you like him.”

It’s just a sentence, a couple of words strung together, untrue for all he knows, but his fingers start to tremble, bile forms at the back of his throat, his face is hot and his heart races, expanding, shrinking, bouncing throughout his body, the pace becoming more and more irregular, it shoots through his brain and drops back down.

“What?” His voice came out awfully high-pitched.

“Yeah.” James chuckles, the skin around his eyes crinkling as he smiles, and the dimples making an appearance.

“Actually?”

“Pretty sure.”

Brain is getting hot.

“This is not one of your pranks.”

“Nope.”

Brain is melting.

“He likes me?”

“Have you not seen him blush and blunder?”

Brain is gone?

“I have.”

“He likes you.”

Heart dropped out of his ass, brain is nowhere to be found.

Is he still alive?

“I wish I could like him back.” He stammers automatically, and his entire world has just been shaken.

It’s New Year’s Eve, they just had a wonderful last meal, as Sirius called it, eating everyone’s favorite dishes for the last time that year, and spent most of the evening on the couch, full and nauseous, taking turns going to the bathroom.

But it’ll be the new year in an hour and they’ve come back to life, the girls taking some last pictures with their cameras, forcing smiles on everyone’s faces, Lily has been going around writing down near year’s resolutions and Sirius is hogging the champagne they meant to save for the countdown.

The fireworks are going crazy outside, and as everyone is putting on their coats, scarves and protective glasses, James wanders to the kitchen window, where he’s spent New Year’s Eve for the last twenty years of his life, and will also today.

Though the ceiling obscures most of the sky and he can’t see a lot of the fireworks, he always pretends it’s wonderful, putting up thumbs and smiling through the pain.

He sighs, pulling himself up on the marble counter, shoving away the dirty dishes to make some room for himself.

When a large boom goes off he shrinks into himself, plugging his ears with the tips of his fingers and laying his cheek against the glass, waiting until the rest is outside and will start putting on their own show with the fireworks Sirius brought.

He'd meant to set it off with James, fumbling with the lighter, running back to safety, watching the beauty of the colors and celebrating the end of the year together, but James would rather stay inside, behind the glass where the loud sounds don’t make his ears tremble and explode.

New Year’s or not, he’s always there, sitting by himself, hidden away behind a layer of glass, feeling sad and lonely, wishing so badly he could be out there and have fun with everyone else, though he can’t, he physically can’t get himself to go out there.

Sometimes he feels, though on New Years it’s the glass window, as if he’s always sitting in front of some enchanted mirror. His imagination enjoys coming up with an elaborate story to go with it, just to transform the sting into beauty, and he finds himself in a castle, perhaps, in a large room, with arched ceilings and stained glass windows, with the moon and the stars shining through and making the colors dance on the stone floor, the room is empty except for the mirror, large, delicately detailed, handcrafted, and he sits before it, night after night, looking in that enchanted glass and seeing in its reflection a world he wishes to be true, his most desired reality, one in which he is not sick, one in which he can perform daily tasks with ease, and go to university without getting tired, and he has a nice girlfriend, and he will be successful in life without any complications. He sits there, and sits, until the spell breaks, the magic runs out, and he realizes it’s all just a lie, his mind playing tricks on him, with only the faraway stars outside listening to his pleading, those dreams will never be and James will continue to be sick and tired, carrying the heavy weight of what could’ve been.

That glass never leaves, it always envelops him, keeping him away from the rest of the world. He’s been an observer all his life, missing out on both the big and small things, and he doesn’t believe it will ever end.

The loneliness he feels at all times is like suffocating.

“James!” Sirius is standing outside, on the other side of the window, tapping on the glass, breathing on it, drawing obscene figures, pressing his nose against it until James is certain he got a glimpse of Sirius’ brains, which he assumed were nonexistent up until now.

“Sure?”

James nods, pulling his knees up to his chest.

He knows he can’t long for any of them to stay behind in the kitchen and watch from there, but he wishes they would.

He wishes he didn’t always have to be so alone, so alien.

Sirius and Peter get the fireworks set up, igniting the fuse and running back to the wall of his house, eyes large in wonder and anticipation as they wait for it to start.

When it does James doesn’t see it, he presses his palms to his ears and keeps his gaze focused on the grass in the yard, not wanting to see everyone else having fun.

It’s a large box, and the fireworks keeps shooting out for several minutes, when it’s done James waits for them to start another, but Sirius turns to watch him through the window, looking a little disappointed.

He can see Sirius giving his matches to Remus and running inside.

“Are you sure you won’t join us?” He asks when he’s in the kitchen, all bundled up, hair in a tight braid that Mary made for him to keep it out of the fire for safety.

“Yeah.” James mumbles, turning his back to Sirius.

“It’s no fun without you.” Sirius says softly, James can hear his boots move over the wooden floor, until he’s at the counter, pulling himself up on it and sitting next to James.

“I’m going to stay here with you.” He says, tapping on the window and gesturing at Peter to light another one.

“No, Sirius it’s okay, just go outside and have fun.” James pleads with him, he doesn’t want to be a burden, or ruin Sirius’ night.

“I like it here-“

“Sirius.” James begs of him, trying to push him off the counter.

“Stop it, I want to be with you, James. You’re my best friend, now shut up I want to watch.” Sirius counters, resting his head on James’ shoulder.

James feels himself tear up, his breath hitches in his lungs, “Don’t be so sentimental, you idiot.” Sirius tells him, pinching the skin on his cheek with a grin.

Dorcas assists Peter, and they can hear the whistling as the fireworks shoot up into the sky.

“Huh, we can’t see a thing.” Sirius concludes, and then jumps off the counter. James thinks he’ll go outside now, and leave him there by himself. He tells himself it’s inevitable. He’s always known he’d spent all his life behind the glass, why get his hopes up and pray for something better?

He knows to others he is simply a burden, a heavy one, people merely tolerate him out of pity. He cannot comprehend why a person would want to be with him when he cannot even stand being near himself.

But then he hears Sirius’ boots bang against the stairs, and he returns with earplugs, pressing them in James’ hand, before he rushes outside.

“Monty! Do you have soundproof headphones?” He shouts to make himself audible over the fireworks.

James’ dad nods and leads Sirius around the house, to the shed where he keeps his tools.

A little later Sirius is at his side again, throwing his coat in his face, ordering him to put in the earplugs and put the headphones over those.

“Now come on I want to do the last one with you.” Sirius says, tugging at James’ hand to make him follow.

James feels a little starstruck, letting himself be dragged outside by his best friend.

“James run!” Sirius shouts at him when they’ve ignited the fuse, the fire travels up quickly, they have to sprint back to the house, Sirius’ hand is in his and they’re both giddy and giggling with happiness.

James feels alive, he can feel his heart race in his chest, the cold breath travel down to his lungs, Sirius’ warm hand in his.

He’s no longer behind the glass, no, he’s experiencing it all, because of Sirius.

“Wow! Look at that! I got this one for you, orange, red and gold, your favorite!” Sirius yells at his ear.

The sounds are muffled, they don’t bother him, he can stand with his friends without going insane or deaf.

All he can do is squeeze Sirius’ hand.

The countdown has started, they’ve got one minute of the year left and are all standing inside, he, his friends and his parents, glasses of champagne ready in their hands, the fireworks going even crazier than early in the evening.

He thinks it might just be a good one.

He’s never been so hopeful before.

Ten more seconds.

Lily moves into his arms, her head against his chest, and they count together, the corners of his mouth ache from all the smiling.

“5…4…3…2…1… happy new year!” They shout in unison, clinking their glasses.

Lily kisses his cheek, and then goes to kiss Mary, Marlene kisses Dorcas, his parents kiss each other.

“James, kiss me!” Sirius grabs James’ face, and James doesn’t even have to think twice, he happily moves closer and shares a very passionate kiss with Sirius.

“You are good.” He muses, but Sirius has already moved to Peter, gripping his shoulders and attempting to kiss Peter, who keeps moving his head out of Sirius’ reach.

“Kiss me right now!” Sirius hisses angrily, slapping Peter on the cheek, getting worked up about all this, whatever this is.

Peter tries to fight it, pushing Sirius away, “No, Sirius what-“ Sirius crashes his and Peter’s lips together and returns to James.

“Kiss Remus.” He begs of James, James hesitates, looking over Sirius’ head at Remus, wide-eyed, staring back at him, slowly shaking his head.

“Ehh, I don’t want to die yet.” James won’t kiss Remus, not after what Remus told him the other day. If it’ll compromise his chances at seeing his mom again, James won’t fuck it up, no matter whether he believes it or not, Remus does.

“Do it!” Sirius grumbles, sounding like a feral animal, his eyes are bloodshot, they all know Sirius loses his ability to regulate his emotions after a few glasses, and he’s had more than a few.  

“Oh, please don’t make me.” James whines, raising his eyebrows at Remus. Remus looks from James to Sirius, Sirius to James, back and forth several times, and then he shrugs.

“Kiss Remus right fucking now!” Sirius pushes James, kicking him in the ass and making him go to Remus while he watches like a hawk.

“Fine.” James snarls at him, as he walks over to Remus, who’s frozen in place staring at Sirius with some very obvious longing written all over his face. Not even Sirius, the king of oblivion, will be able to miss this.

“Sorry, Rem.” James mutters, mouthing at him whether it’s really okay.

“You have chlamydia, don’t kiss me.” Remus says, but then he nods. Oh, what the fuck. Why are these two so dramatic? So difficult. Why is James always in the middle of the drama?

“I do not have chlamydia, and it’s a tradition, okay? I’m going to kiss you now.” James tells him, waiting for Remus to nod again to be absolutely sure he can kiss him and it’ll be fine.

“James!” He pretends to object, Remus is putting on a hell of a show. He nods with a lot of undisguised enthusiasm. He’s begging for it.

“I’ve been given very strict orders, now come here.”

James grabs his shoulders, plants a short kiss on Remus’ lips, and watches with amusement as Remus only has eyes for Sirius.

The second James moves away Peter swoops in, pushed by Sirius, and Sirius only just doesn’t tear Peter’s body away and throw him across the room like a gorilla gone crazy before he puts his arms around Remus’ neck and kisses him so hard Remus stumbles backwards, eyes wide, hands flying in the air before he decides to wrap them around Sirius.

“How long do you think he’s been working on this plan.” Peter asks, nudging James’ side. Sirius seems to be latched onto Remus, with no plan of ever letting go.

“Ages, likely.” Sirius is on the tips of his toes, Remus is smiling like a fool as they kiss.

“They make a cute couple.”

“Yeah, they’re so adorable I feel a rush of cuteness aggression coming over me, Pete, hold me back I want to kiss and eat them both.” James says, watching as the two boys break apart and Sirius, red in the face, looking out of his eyes as if he’s done every drug on the planet, scary smile on his face, starts dancing around.

“Whoo, wowie, happy new year!” He whoops, moving on now to the girls and begging them for kisses while Remus stands to the side, holding a hand to his lips, totally starstruck.

“Lils, go talk to her.” Mary is sitting behind her, braiding Lily’s hair in complicated works of art, twisting them around her head and trying out new things. Lily always sits patiently, holding still for Mary, her back resting against Mary’s chest. It’s her favorite time in the evening.

“No, nope, I refuse.”

“At least wish her a happy new year?”

“Nah ah.”

“She’s just a room over.”

Petunia hasn’t even looked in Lily’s direction in all the days she’s been home. All she does is hold their dad’s hand, help their mom cook, and clutch her belly with panicked eyes. Lily has no idea at all what’s going on in her head at the moment. She can’t even do as much as guess, that’s how little she knows about Petunia.

Christmas and New Year’s eve were nice distractions, but each time she returns home she can’t escape the misery. Add to that the guilt of knowing she was out having fun while her dad was dying at home. With every laugh that escaped from her mouth she felt herself die a little. Her shoulders snap back into position, mouth closed, wondering how she could possibly be having fun right now. She shouldn’t. She shouldn’t forget about it even for a moment, and yet she did.

The house is thundering with the tragedy, there’s no way around it, that feeling of inevitable death hanging in the air.

“Exactly, she could’ve come here, but she doesn’t, and I don’t always want to be the one trying so hard. It has to come from her too, and when it doesn’t, which is always… I just can’t keep trying, Mary. She’ll never return it.” Lily sighs, letting her head fall back on Mary’s chest. Mary’s face is over hers now, looking down at her with those large brown eyes of hers, some stray glitters left around them.

“You have to, she’s your sister.” Mary tells her. Mary is sensible and smart. The oldest daughter of an oldest daughter. Dutifully taking care of her younger siblings without a single complaint. She comes from a loving home, where they all support and love without asking anything in return, her younger siblings adore Mary because she deserves to be adored. She thinks coming from a big family makes her more understanding of this sister feud Lily’s been caught up in all her life. But this, this she doesn’t understand. This she can’t help with.

“She’s my older sister, why should I be the one always trying to make amends for something that I don’t even know what it is?” Lily mutters with a frown, and Mary smiles sadly at her, stroking Lily’s hair in slow motions.

Lily sees her chest deflate as she exhales slowly, all of this will pass, she realizes that. Ten years from now this day will be long gone from her memory. Her dad will be gone, she might not be in contact with Petunia, or her mom even, who knows? However, Mary will stick around. All of them will.

Because of her, Lily can see it again, a future. Ever since James it was difficult to picture, impossible even. Would she fall in love again? And with who? In what way. For so long she assumed James was the only person in the world who loved her right, who ever would love her right. The only one not scared off by her size or her red hair or her talk or her opinions. Other people like her, but in moderation. And guys, the few guys she dated in her gap year just to try, they weren’t a right fit. They liked the concept of Lily, a maternal figure who could complete them. Someone they could easily assign a role and mold as they liked. That’s not her.

She’s started to scrapbook again, deciding which flowers to go on the table, a dress, doorknobs, bathroom tiles, the ring she’ll buy for Mary and the children they’ll raise together to be strong as well as kind.

Mary gave her her future back.

She pauses, collecting her thoughts, and speaks, “Look, Lils, I don’t have sisters, but I’ve known Sirius since he was twelve and got to see from up close how his bond with his little brother went to shit. They haven’t spoken or seen each other in five years, Sirius pretends he’s dead. It’s just not worth it, honey, even if you have to spend the rest of your life trying.”

Lily rubs at her eyes, getting tired of all this talk of Petunia. Whether it’s with her parents or Mary, it’s always the same. Always, it’s Lily who should be fighting for them, and Petunia who’s not at fault, never, for nothing. “Oh, I don’t know, Mary. Of course I don’t want that, but… it’s tiring.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” She whispers, continuing the braids.

Lily thinks, and thinks. She’s seen the look in Sirius’ eyes, she wouldn’t want that. To be fifty and not know her own sister. And now that her dad will soon be gone… she can’t lose Petunia too. One day it’ll just be the two of them. What if this is the defining moment that causes the final rupture in their bond?

What if, in some years there will be no one left who knows what she was like in her childhood? No one who was there when she set her first steps? Who knows what her parents were like, the summer vacations or the movies they watched endlessly, no one who will know the stories behind the pictures?

She can’t imagine being all alone.

“Ugh, okay, I’ll try, just once more.”

“That’s sweet of you, and you know she’s had a lot on her mind, right? I know it’s such an awful thing to say and please don’t hate me, but grief brings people together, just don’t lose hope.” Mary lies down on Lily’s bed, blowing a kiss at her as Lily walks across the room, feeling like a ghost, a shadow of herself, of all the versions of the person she’s ever been. The five year old sitting by Petunia’s door begging to play together. The seven year old sliding paintings and peace offerings under the door, not knowing what she’d done wrong. The ten year old realizing they’d never be like the other girls at school. The nineteen year old walking from this room and giving up, moving out.

And now this, twenty, almost twenty one, a dying dad, a sad mom, Petunia pregnant and married, their little girls’ dream come true except Lily wasn’t there to witness it.

They always wanted to be moms, known it from the start, Lily just always assumed she’d be there through it all, the test, the pregnancy, the birth. Holding her sister’s hand. Crying at her wedding.

She didn’t get any of that. Maybe she can still be there in the hospital? The child’s first birthdays and milestones? And Petunia can be there for her too, when the time comes?

“No, I won’t. Okay, there I go. See you.” She says, floating out of the door, across the hallway, and softly knocking on Petunia’s door as if time never continued on after that first time she knocked on the door, filled with doubt and confusion.

“Petunia?” She whispers against the wooden frame. It used to hold pictures of the two of them together, cards they’d exchanged, drawings they worked on.

It’s empty now.

“Yes.”

“Can I come in?”

“If you must.”

Lily sighs, pushing the door open. The room is blank. The walls are white, there’s nothing on the walls. No rugs, posters, lights. Just the bed, the desk and the dresser.

Does her house look like this, too? Lily wouldn’t know, she’s still never been there.

What did she ever do to make this happen?

“Happy new year.” She says, pulling out the chair from underneath the desk and sitting down. Petunia is on the bed, back against the wall, rubbing over her belly with a pained face. “Does it hurt?”

“No, it’s just a little uncomfortable because he’s overdue.” Lily had hoped the pregnancy would make her sweeter, more sentimental, less hateful towards Lily. But she’s still the same as she always was.

“What will you name him?”

She grabs a pen from Petunia’s desk and starts clicking it, just for the sake of holding something, it’s from the corporation that Vernon works at, Petunia doesn’t work. She will stay at home and take care of the kids. Lily could never understand it, how a person could have so little ambitions after all those generations of women that have fought for these privileges, Petunia despised her for it.

“Dudley.”

“That’s… a name.” Lily tries, turning over the pen in her hands, not knowing what to say. She knows what Petunia’s list of names looks like, and that Dudley was never on it. After making her a housewife, knocking her up so young, not wanting to speak to Lily, now Vernon has chosen the boy’s name too? What power does Petunia have left?

“Don’t, just don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Pretend.” Petunia says soberly. It never seems to bother her, this infinite feud between them. She accepts it as something they can’t evade, something that simply is, the same as the sun rising in the morning and the flowers blooming in the spring, the Evans sisters can’t stand each other.

“I’m not pretending, Petunia, I’m your sister of course I want to know the name of my nephew.” Lily replies desperately, an entire childhood of trying to get her older sister to like her, and she’s lucky if she gets responses to her answers, the illusion of an adult conversation like this one.

“Mmh, of course, the obligations of family have always mattered to you, until you’d had enough and left.”

Her fingers are stained with small blotches of the ink coming from the pen. She looks right at Petunia like she hasn’t in many years. Her skin is greyish, eyes sunken into her skull, she looks at least ten years older than she actually is. Lily never left her. She lived, is that a crime now? “Left? I didn’t leave, I built a life for myself outside of this house!”

“Yes, at your fancy school.” Petunia says in a mocking manner, rolling her eyes.

“Oh my god. Dad is dying, can you not be a bitch? For once?” She shrieks, getting up from the chair, feeling she’s about to lose her temper.

All she wants is her sister, it’s not like she’s asking for the moon.

Petunia scoffs, Lily doesn’t think she’s ever looked her in the eye. “Fine, so you’re not curing the cancer?”

“No I’m not curing the cancer. It takes a lot more than three students in a bedroom.” Her voice is raised, face hot, Petunia looks undisturbed still.

“Ah, at last, one thing the almighty Lily Juno Evans cannot do, I thought we’d never see this day. How does it taste? The defeat and the failure?”

“Why the fuck do you hate me so much? What did I do? Really, I was always nice, you started to get all weird.”

“I don’t hate you, stupid bitch.” Petunia spits back, her voice cracking. Lily sinks back on the chair, strangely, this is the most emotion she’s ever seen her older sister display.

“Do you love me?”

“Of course I love you. I love you with all my heart. I used to bathe you, and feed you, and put you to bed and I’d watch you until you were asleep the same I will now with Dudley. That’s love.”

Lily sits in silence, thinking over the words.

Everything’s painfully clear, all of a sudden.

“But you don’t like me.”

“I like you.”

“What do you like about me?”

Petunia looks up, stroking her swollen belly. “You’re my sister.”

“Yes, okay, so you love me you just said. That doesn’t mean you like me.”

“I didn’t know I had to, can’t love be enough?”

“No, Petunia, it obviously can’t.” There’s no more fire inside of her, no more desire to fight and scream and get Petunia’s attention, good or bad, because nothing she does will ever mend what they’ve lost. What, maybe, they never even had to start with. “Love shouldn’t come forcibly.” She wishes Petunia would love her, not as a sister, an obligation, her blood and home, but as Lily, as a person on her own.

“What’s that supposed to mean? And don’t you look at me with that look in your eyes I don’t like it, pretending you’re so much better than I am, like a fucking goddess asking me to worship you.” Now it’s Petunia who gets up from the bed, jabbing her index finger at Lily’s chest.

“What the fuck? If anyone worships it’s me! I fucking modeled my life after- for you! You used to be my idol!”

“Used to! So now what?”

“Now I don’t understand why you behave like this! I don’t know what I did to deserve it!”

Petunia laughs, cold, empty of anything remotely human. “Oh, you don’t know what you did. No, because you can’t see your own faults.”

“I could if you’d just tell me.”

“Why are you even here? Why aren’t you in… Oxford or wherever it is.”

“Oxford? I study in fucking Scotland! How could you not know?”

“I guess I just don’t care enough about what little princess Lily is up to these days.” She says, crossing her arms over her chest. There’s always that blame in her voice. Lily could’ve stopped a war, given food to everyone in need- or, most importantly, cured cancer, and Petunia would still find her despicable, evil.

“Stop blaming everything on me!”

“But the blame is on you! Me and mum and dad were happy and satisfied, the three of us, and then you disrupted everything!”

“I didn’t choose to be born into this family!”

“No you’d rather have had a better one with a smarter sister who would’ve gone to school, right?”

Lily’s close to ripping every hair on her head out, throwing it to the ground, stomping on it and running from the room. Petunia drives her crazy. The girl has no morals, no rational thinking- ugh! Lily hates her! Why does she try? “No, no don’t twist my words.”

“Just get out of here!”

“I’m not going anywhere, we’re talking about this! We’re both adults now I’m sure we can discuss things normally!”

“Well no because your stupid sister is too dumb!”

“Oh my god stop this!” She shrieks, Petunia is gritting her teeth, there’s beads of sweat dripping down her temples, the hair plastered to her forehead. She doesn’t look well.

“Just go to your own fucking room and leave me alone!” Petunia yells at her, her voice louder and meaner than ever before, she steps closer to Lily, nostrils flaring, she looks awful. Her cheeks are burning red, as if the veins underneath the skin have popped, she’s shivering, looks like she’s cold but then there’s the sweat.

Lily steps back, wondering if this is it, finally, after all those years, the moment where Petunia gets physical. Lays her hands on Lily. She reached a point where she dreamed of it, preferring anything over the indifference, the feeling of not even existing in her eyes.

This is when she notices the perfectly clean linoleum floor underneath Petunia, usually a modest grey, is now specked with drops of blood.

Her eyes travel upwards Petunia’s legs, which are dripping with it, to her hand, clutching her belly, and her face, looking so pained.

It’s gushing out of her now.

Lily’s own blood freezes in her veins, her throat closes. She rushes forward, grabbing Petunia’s hips just as she’s about to stumble backwards and fall with her head against the edge of the desk.

“You’re bleeding! Petunia-“

Petunia slaps her hands away, grasping in the air until she’s got her hand on the wall, the other digging into her belly now, slowly shuffling over the floor, leaving a trail of dark blood as she attempts to leave the room.

She looks over her shoulder, for the first time in years looking Lily in the eyes, “You killed both me and the baby, Lily. This is on you, all of it.”