Epistulae Heroum

“It’s right and natural that shame is mingled with love:
love ordered me to write, to say what shames me.”

The Heroides - IV: Phaedra to Hippolytus 

Sunday 6th October, 1975

James was tired, to say the least. After months—no, years of following the love of his life’s every move, thousands of attempts to woo her and a stern word from his dad about what could count as stalking, the first time Lily Evans smiled at him was by pure accident.

Well, he hoped it was pure accident, or James was going to have to have that same stern word with Remus. How the other boy knew James had read the book was beyond him, but he wasn’t complaining. Because, may he reiterate,

Lily Evans smiled at him.

Oh, he knew it was disgusting and cheesy and obsessive and heavily alluded that James had very low self esteem but, had you ever met Lily, you’d know. 

The first time James had known she was The One was not actually the first time he had spoken to her, as some might believe. It was the second—but, he digresses. The first time was on the train to Hogwarts in 1971, when James had been looking for somewhere to sit and, when approaching Lily and her future-Death-Eater-current-wanker-extraordinaire best friend, being enthusiastically turned away.

The second was not so long after. The seating plan had conveniently put the two of them together—to which James had actually been more exasperated at. That was until Lily, with her raspberry clips and pink-cheeked smile, had apologised and told him she really liked his socks. James had spent the entire morning being chastised by teachers and laughed at by the older kids for his colourful, spider-patterned addition to the uniform. He had thought it a fun idea—the socks matching his brand new wand. Nobody else up until Lily Evans (not even Sirius, though he had come to Hogwarts a gloomy eleven-year-old) had agreed. 

The next day, James put toy spiders in the candy-floss that went with their eton mess and Lily had hated him ever since. 

Candy floss didn’t go with eton mess anyway.

But none of that mattered at the minute, because James was bouncing off the walls. Lily Evans had smiled at him just as she had done that second day and he had absolutely no idea what to do with himself, running nine laps of the quidditch pitch then scourgifying himself clean because showers took far too long only to sprint back up to the dormitory so he could tell—

Sirius was sat cross-legged on his bed again, something that couldn’t quite be described as a frown on his face and an all-too-familiar open book on the quilt in front. 

“Prongs.” Sirius looked up, a smile more faux than Madame Rosmerta’s face fillers taking over his features. He pushed off the bed and, in a way that was only slightly discreet, scrunched up the covers so they fell on top of the book to hide most of it out of sight, “Did they keep you late?”

James’ excitement faltered, his chest rising and falling from the fact he had just booked it up the stairs, “No, I—uh, I did some laps.”

For the first two or so years of knowing Sirius, James had thought he had truly known everything about him. He was so—not just physically—emotionally loud. When his day was shit, he’d collapse on top of you and whinge his hearts content. When he was positively thrilled—which didn’t take a lot, if James was being honest—the term waxing lyrical wasn’t enough. James had never realised there was always a horrid, dark entity right in front of his face.

Third year had been when he had seen it. Sirius’ home life was never talked about much. James, being his usual, oblivious self, had known it was a bit more… uptight than how he was brought up. Plus, when Regulus had arrived, they didn’t exactly have the relationship he expected brothers to have. He had never truly understood how big the entity was. Not until, just after that Christmas, James caught Sirius in the bathroom with tears on his face just after his cousins had caused a large commotion. After Regulus had just stood there, staring with a blank look in his eyes.

It couldn’t have been called sobbing. Or crying, even. It was the most horrible thing James had ever seen. Sirius, wide-eyed at the floor, tears falling as though sobs weren’t even an option. He hadn’t learned the truth about what life for Sirius was like at home until the start of fourth year. James didn’t like to think about that.

Sirius snorted, walking over to the trunk that sat at the end of his bed and kneeling in front of it, “You’re a maniac, honestly. Not even Bella would do work straight after a detention.”

Debating whether to ask about the clear wallowing that had just been going on, James took a seat at the end of Sirius’ bed, watching to see if anything changed with his expression, also trying to see if it was unfair to bring up the Lily Thing now.

“Just too much energy, is all. Needed to get it out.” James eventually said, he glanced at the book buried just by his thigh, then looked back at Sirius, “Still no word from Moony?”

Sirius’ lips drew into a thin line as he paused the rifling he had resigned himself to in his trunk.

”Tell me what you’re thinking.” James urged. 

He looked up, eyes looking vaguely lost before he let out a soft sigh and sat back on his ankles, “I think that I did the thing again.”

James quirked a brow, “The thing?”

”The thing where I get overexcited. Where I get my hopes up even though I know it’s probably not going to end well.”

James sighed, pursing his lips, “I think that’s focusing the blame a little bit.”

”I know.” Sirius groaned, rubbing a palm over his face and settling with his legs crossed, “And I’m angry at him for not speaking to me but I’m more angry at myself for letting it get to this point. I knew there was a possibility he was a Slytherin and I know—I really know—what Slytherins are capable of.” He looked down at his hands, picking at the beds of his nails and James could tell there was something he wanted to say but couldn’t. A ‘But’ that Sirius was probably even more angry at himself for.

“You know, two months ago, I reckon you’d be screaming your way down to the Slytherin common room by now, tearing down every portrait as you went.” James pointed out, tilting his head, “But you’re not.”

”That’s highly dramatic.”

”You’re highly dramatic.”

Sirius smirked at him, before glancing back at his hands, “It’s just… he said this thing once. And I’ve never been able to get it out of my head.”

James urged him with a nod.

”Why should he be sad about something that’s not built to serve him?” Sirius said, “And it made me realise… Well, I dunno…”

”No, go on.”

”It just… I realised that a lot of the problems I find myself in are made ten times worse because I—blow up even though I know it wont do me any good.”

“But that’s just you, Padfoot. You can’t suppress it or it’ll get worse.”

”No—I know that. I just mean that… should I be miserable over something that might not even be my own fault? Why am I dwelling over this whole thing when I can’t even be certain Moony—or even Remus—wont ever talk to me again?”

James smiled fondly at his best friend. The same best friend who he had tried to tell this same advice to hundreds of times. 

“What?”

”You know what.” James chuckled, pushing himself off the bed and moving to sit cross-legged next to Sirius. 

Sirius rested his head on James’ shoulder with a weary sigh and he could practically feel the strength in which his brows were being stressed.

“I don’t know why I listen to him and not you.” Sirius murmured.

”I do.”

Sirius made a noise of questioning, but didn’t move his head. 

“I don’t know what you two talk about or how much you know about the way he grew up, but I can tell he’s been through it.”

”What d’you mean?”

”The scars, they’re telling but also not. I—Remus is a… he’s different. A different bloke. And nobody acts the way he does, especially in Slytherin, and I frankly have no clue why because I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like that before so I couldn’t come up with a reason for you. Well, apart from the fact it’s probably a defence mechanism.”

”He’s… the only thing I know about his childhood is that he doesn’t have a good enough memory to conjure a patronus and that his dad committed suicide.”

”I’d say those are good enough points.”

”But what’s that got to do with me listening to him over you?”

James sighed resting his head atop Sirius’, “Because even if I went through every single thing both you and Remus had gone through combined right now, I would still never understand you.”

Sirius lifted his head, turning to look at him with his brows furrowed in confusion.

"The only thing I had to worry about, when I was a kid, was washing the dishes so mum would let me have afters. You didn't even know what afters were when we had that first dinner here. I'm not saying you don't listen to me because you don't take me seriously-“ At Sirius’ smirk, James rolled his eyes, “I’m just saying that, as much as you try to act otherwise, you’re a natural pessimist. Your brain will automatically search for any tiny thing to discredit advice that would stop you from being eternally miserable.”

"That makes me sound really sad."

James shrugged, "It's the same logic to how I'm an optimist, just different results."

"Sad results."

"Human results." James smirked, nudging him with his shoulder.

Sirius sat quietly for a few moments, looking vacant with his eyes focused somewhere around the middle of the open trunk.

"I don't wanna be a pessimist." He eventually said.

"Then don't be. Who better to take seriously than yourself?"

Sirius smirked, "I always take myself—“

”Fuck off.” James laughed, shoving him to which Sirius quickly responded with a tackle around the middle. The two of them screeched as they fought, arms and legs flailing madly until James eventually got himself draped over Sirius’ back, palm holding his face to the floor. 

“Alright! Alright!” Sirius cackled, his legs finally giving out, “You win.”

”Good.” James grinned, crooking his neck so he could see where Sirius was still managing to glare through his smile, “Because I have something to tell you.”

James pushed off of him, righting his glasses and pulling Sirius up to a sitting position by his shoulder which earned another squawk. 

“Go on, then.” Sirius snorted with an impatient wave of his hand.

He bunched his shoulders. He felt like he was buzzing, “Lily smiled at me.”

Sirius gasped, “You’re having a laugh!”

James shook his head, cheeks hurting from his grin. 

“What happened?” Sirius asked.

James drew up short at that, mouth hanging open slightly as he fought his brain on what to say. Right. 

“Well… we sort of bonded? Over… Jane Eyre?”

”Jane Eyre? How’d you get onto the topic of that?”

”Well! It’s… she was there… and I was there… and also… uh, Remus was there…”

Sirius’ face fell. The next thing James knew, he was being attacked again, held to the floorboards and wiggling around helplessly as Sirius flipped him over, straddled his back and got him into a headlock. 

“This is highly unfair!” James grunted, “I can’t fight back because I feel bad!”

”Exactly.” Sirius hissed into his ear, “Tell the truth, James Potter. Why were you talking to Remus?”

Before James could answer, the door to the dormitory swung open. Peter looked at them both and sighed.

”Please don’t tell me you two are shagging now.”

***

Monday 7th October, 1975

“—expect three feet of parchment on how muggle science can improve the outcome of certain potions and be detrimental to others. Ah-ah, before you all start moaning and groaning, I want you to take this assignment seriously. Especially for those of you who wish for a bright future as a potioneer.”

Professor Sarton’s voice could’ve very well been crickets in the back of James’ mind, at this point. The end of his quill had driven a hole into his textbook at least ten pages deep and his eyes had driven a hole into the back of Remus Lupin’s head. 

When he had walked into class, the first thing James had noticed was how utterly awful he looked. His eyes were sunken and blue, his face sallow and there was an awkward way to how he stood—how he held himself. James was sure, had he gotten close enough, he could count every vein working exhaustively to supply blood as though the very action was so difficult it caused them to bulge.

But there was also a difference that stood stark against the others. There was no longer that straightness in his spine that held him up like a splint and his eyebrows seemed to sit lower on his face. He looked calm, almost, even despite the weary state. 

None of it dissipated James’ worry.

”Why isn’t he back?” James hissed.

”It’s Sirius.” Peter whispered back, “You know he probably went off at Lupin, realised he was making an arse of himself so he lit a spliff to chill himself out and fell asleep.”

“Or Moony rejected him and he threw himself off the astronomy tower.” James muttered.

”Yes, because that is entirely rational and logical.”

“I’m going to talk to him.”

”To Sirius?”

”To Remus. I’m going to borrow his map to find Sirius.”

And that’s what James did. Well, it’s what he tried to do. The second the class was dismissed, James picked up his bag then glanced at Remus, only to find the other boy had disappeared.

”Oh, for fuck sake.”

Again, when he caught sight of a tawny mullet James was sure Sirius had wanked over bobbing above the crowd, he weaved his way through and grabbed onto the sleeve of one very offended seventh-year Slytherin. 

So, James resigned himself to doing what he usually did when Sirius went haywire. He waited. 

Through dinner, where his teeth nearly chewed through his fork. Through Pete sitting him down to try and get through their charms homework. Through patrol, where he was so absent that even Lily had started making conversation in the place of where he’d usually be gabbing her ear off.

He knew it wasn’t great to be so bothered, especially after the conversation he and Sirius had yesterday, but James couldn’t help it. Sometimes Sirius was so formulaic that James could know what he was to do before even doing it. And sometimes he was so unpredictable—so hectic—that James found himself constantly tense—constantly worried for the worst. Because, when it came to Sirius, the worst was certainly an option.

Sirius didn’t make an appearance until the sun had long set. Until Peter was fast asleep with his curtains drawn and James was still awake and actually trying his hand at any semblance of schoolwork. The door opened as gently as it shut and, when James locked eyes with him, he saw an expression he had never seen before.

He watched as Sirius walked straight over to his bed as though James was wearing the invisibility cloak.

“That’s it?” James tried. He could feel a headache blooming from how strongly his eyebrows were drawn together.

“What?” Sirius murmured,

He scoffed, “You’ve been gone all day.”

“I’ve had a lot on my mind.”

“Yes, because, in this isolated castle of about 200 students, there’s so much drama to be uncovered.”

“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, James.” Sirius replied, dismissively, pulling his bedside drawer open and digging around until he pulled out the small tin James had watched him roll cigarettes in endlessly. He noticed a certain leather-backed book wasn’t in it.

“James? No ‘Prongs’?”

“Potter, then.”

“What is up with you?” James scoffed, pushing himself off the bed and walking up to him, “Did you get a letter from—?”

Sirius looked at him as though he had just slapped him, lips downturned and brows dangerously low.

“What did Remus say?” James tried, softer this time.

Sirius looked back down at the tin in his hands, clicking it open and closed. His lips seemed to seal further, if possible.

“Pete can’t hear. He put a silencing charm on his bed when I told him I was staying up.”

Sirius’ face, still stony but with that twitch in his eyelid that indicated he was upset, turned to James.

“What did he say, Sirius?”

“He told me why he wasn’t speaking to me—well, at least I think it was why.”

“And…?”

“It wasn’t me.”

“So why’re you upset?”

“I’m not upset!” Sirius exclaimed, throwing the tin onto his bed in a way that very much seemed as though he was upset.

James quirked an eyebrow.

“I’m not. I’m just… confused.”

“Confused about how he feels?”

“No… I—“ Sirius pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, then dropped his hands to his sides with a sigh, “He told me something.”

”A dealbreaker?”

”I…” He took a deep breath, “I dunno yet.”

”Well, how high is it on the dealbreaker scale?” James tried, crossing his arms, “One being he’s got a greasy best mate who is obviously in love with him, ten being you’re first cousins and he’s got a liquid luck addiction.”

Sirius sat down on his bed with a sigh, fiddling with the cuff of his sleeve, “It’s a bit too broad a subject to put on a scale.”

”Is it a character flaw?”

”Not really…”

”Something that can be changed?”

Sirius laughed, humourlessly, “No.”

”Something dangerous?”

”…Potentially.”

“Dangerous enough to scare you away?”

Sirius went quiet and James could practically hear into his head, at that point. One thing that was always predictable about his best friend? There was a constant thought that lingered stubbornly in the back of his mind like a verruca or the smell when you walk into a fishmongers.

”More dangerous than going home for the summer?” James asked, his voice quiet. Gentle, rather than careful. Sirius hated to be treated like a dodgy fuse.

He looked up and James could see the conflict clearly, as though Sirius was pleading for him to make a decision so he didn’t have to.

“It was so easy for him.” Sirius eventually spoke, “Such a horrible thing… but he said it like it was nothing. Stupid thing was, it nearly made me ignore what he was actually telling me. D’you reckon it was some sort of attempt at manipulation?”

James opened his mouth, but quickly closed it again. To be completely honest, he had no idea who Remus was. The only person out of them who knew that, truly, was Sirius. But could it have even been ‘truly’? It was what they had gone over in silent glances and off hand quips ever since they had made their list of potential Moony’s and James had laughed the idea of it being Remus off as impossible. It couldn’t be ignored. Remus was a Slytherin, after all. And, as much as James had been trying to not stereotype them, they couldn’t just not acknowledge it. 

“I spoke to Pandora Rosier.” Sirius continued before James could come up with a response.

”She’s that girl he’s friends with, right?”

”I think she knows.” Sirius said, “About what Remus told me.”

”Does she know that you know?” James asked.

”No. Unless Remus has said anything.”

”What did you talk about?”

”I asked her if Remus was a good guy.”

”And?”

”And… she told me something funny. She said he wasn’t the kind of guy to ‘feed your schnoozles while your gone’, whatever that means, and that he’s sometimes very selfish, but his heart’s in the right place.” Sirius took another deep breath and James sat down on the bed beside him, crossing his legs, “She told me he was a complete idiot but never took anything for granted. I asked her why she was friends with him.”

”What did she say?”

Surprisingly, the hint of a smile tried itself up Sirius’ mouth, “She said it was because it was easy.”

”Easy?”

”Because he never does anything he doesn’t see a point in so you’re never left wondering.”

”You were left wondering, weren’t you?”

Sirius nodded, “I told her that. She told me that it’s very easy to see what’s going on in Remus’ mind. And that the hard part was remembering…”

”Remembering what?”

”Remembering that he runs from things he doesn’t want to face.”

James’ brows furrowed at that as he looked down at the quilt. It was a few moments before he met Sirius’ eye again.

”Funny thing is,” Sirius let out a startled laugh, “I think I’m more bothered about that bit than I am what he told me.”