the stars had shifted
“I think I might actually start crying,” James whined a bit as he ran his fingers through Harry’s now short hair while watching Lily sweep the remnants of Harry’s hair off the floor and into the bin.
He was recently fitted for some baby glasses that looked a bit like horrifying goggles but would prevent him from getting a concussion by running into any and every solid object he encountered like he had been doing. However, his hair had that signature Potter flair which meant it needed to be contained at least every couple of months and it seemed this was to be the start of that. Harry was only a little over a year old but James still felt like he was growing up too fast.
“Shall I rock you as well?” Lily laughed, wrapping her free arm around him and swaying side to side like she did with Harry.
“You know what, I do feel better now,” he grinned, bumping her shoulder and dropping a kiss onto Harry’s head. “Be safe, yeah?”
“Always am,” she called out before gathering Harry and walking out the door, leaving him to drown in silence back in the flat.
Him and silence did not go well together, never did, so that’s why he was right on Lily’s heels just a few moments later- changing out of his pyjamas and ‘smoothing down’ his hair.
He walked around aimlessly for a while before sitting on a bench in the park. He watched the ducks quack in the pond as children played nearby, but soon grew bored and got back up again. He tried to think of something new to do but ultimately decided to head back to that cafe he had gone to with Harry a few weeks ago.
His social life here was nonexistent, and while he still had his best friends back home, that didn’t mean he couldn’t make a few new ones to make life a bit more bearable.
The cafe was in the same square as the park but the breeze had picked up today and his skin had begun to prickle as he walked against it. He relished the wave of warmth and the rich scent of coffee beans that greeted him as he walked into the shop, and he was pleased to see Marc behind the counter again.
He felt a bit embarrassed, like he’d developed a new crush, but really, Marc was simply the first friendly, English-speaking person his age he had come across. He seemed quite cool and the coffee he made was amazing and while he might not remember James, James remembered him.
He was always good at making friends.
“Marc!” he smiled warmly as he walked up to the counter, rubbing his hands together to bring some life back into them.
“Bonjour!” he grinned as he wiped down the rim of a mug, “You never told me your name.”
“I’m James,” he smiled, “James Shafiq.” He had adopted his mother’s maiden name since his escape as an extra layer of protection and it still warmed his heart a bit to use it, a small memory of his mother kept alive for one more generation.
“Well James Shafiq, what can I get you today?”
“Surprise me,” James winked and Marc seemed pleased, already moving over to the machines to begin making his next creation, “How much?”
“Today’s drink is on me yeah? My boss wanted to try out a new drink and you can be our first review. Personally, I think it’s a bit weird but hey, what do I know?” he went on and completely ignored James’ protests so he instead dropped a reasonable amount into the tip jar, knowing it’d go towards him regardless.
“In that case do you have a book selection for me as well?”
This truly had Marc stumped and he went around the counter and headed over to the bookshelf to check it out for himself.
He was tall and lithe with wide shoulders and a slim waist. His closely tailored trousers hugged his long legs and James tried not to ogle too much though he had to admit he was a patron of the arts when it came to fine French men.
He tapped various books until he went “Ahh,” and pulled one out- One Thousand and One Nights. “This is a fun one,” he said, shoving the book in James’ hand and who was he to disagree?
He agreed on the book and sat on the cushions he had sat at previously, happy the groups of people already inside had chosen the few traditional tables over his new favourite spot.
Marc came by a few moments later with a mug and plate in hand and he settled right down on the cushions across from James. He felt a bit like he was being tested but he gratefully accepted the drink, slowly blowing across the surface of the dark brown liquid a few times before taking a deep gulp.
The other boy’s bright green eyes went wide as they watched him.
At first the drink was fine with the usual smooth and silky taste of coffee alighting on his tongue but once the liquid hit the back of his throat it turned sour and he had to suppress the urge to gag. His face strained with the force to not react as he choked out a, “It’s good, just a bit-” he coughed, “Strong.”
Marc deflated, “It’s shite right? I said it would be but he didn’t believe me.”
“What’s this ah- flavour?”
“Mushrooms,” he helpfully supplied.
“Mushrooms?” he echoed.
“It’s supposed to be good for your heart and that but it tastes a bit like the inside of the sewer,” he said, thankfully snatching James’ cup and standing back up, “I’ll make you a latte instead.”
“Thank you,” James cried gratefully, holding his hands up in supplication.
He settled back and began reading, and as one page turned to ten, then fifty, he became fully enthralled—just like the king in the story. He had finished his latte almost instantly, hardly noticing the taste as he read. The café buzzed with life around him, but he was oblivious, completely absorbed in the book.
It was only when he had to squint a bit to read did he look outside and notice clouds now covering the sky and inside the mismatched chandeliers burst to light, flooding the room in amber light.
He was about to refocus on his book when he glanced up at the counter.
Marc was at the till, taking someone’s order and someone else had joined him at the counter- a shorter boy with black hair. He couldn’t make out much else because he was behind the coffee machine and turned away but James glanced back down at the book one last time.
It really was a lovely recommendation and before stepping out, he wanted to let Marc know as well as ask if he could borrow it for the night with the promise to bring it back tomorrow.
When he stepped up, Marc had disappeared somewhere behind the double doors that must’ve led into the kitchen area leaving behind only the male with black hair who was fully crouched down now, messing with something behind the counter.
“Er, bonjour?”
“Oui?” the man called up without actually bothering to look up.
James was quite clearly leaning over the wide counter now just to speak and he almost considered walking around as this was a bit odd but decided against it. He also didn’t know how to make this request in French but thankfully, Marc appeared back through the doors carrying a lovely looking apple pie and he quickly held up a finger as he served a woman who practically squealed when he handed it to her.
“So James Shafiq, did you like the book?” he asked, resting his chin on his hand right next to where his coworker was.
“I did, I was actually wondering if I might be able to take it home with me so I could finish it up- I’ll bring it back with me tomorrow?” he asked hopefully, crossing his fingers and toes.
He was never much of a reader, especially not to the level Lily or Remus were but with his life so sorely lacking in plot- he gained a newfound appreciation for stories where he might be able to live vicariously through the characters.
“Dis-lui non, les gens finissent toujours par les voler!” the man chimed up from wherever he was. (Tell him no, people always end up stealing them!)
At James' curious look, Marc clarified, “He’s just working on our receipt machine, it’s not working.”
However, James didn’t need Marc to translate, as it was clear from his coworker's tone that he wasn’t pleased with the idea of him taking the book. So, James set it down on the counter and slid it over to Marc to return to its place.
He glanced down before looking back at him, “I’m sorry, we’re not allowed to give out loans,” he said but then his hand landed on top of the book and he quietly slid it back over the counter to him with a wink.
‘Thank you’ he mouthed happily before leaving.
__________
He went out for a run later that evening.
The sun was setting and casting a golden glow over the cityscape, illuminating the busy men and women going home from work, the kids playing on the street, and the sparse greenery potted every once in a while along the pavement.
Muggle clothes still felt a bit odd to him, like he was wearing a costume every day. Before, he would wear his customary clothes and wear muggle clothes for fun, feeling a rush of excitement every time he did along with Sirius, Remus, and Peter, but now in the muggle world, their novelty wore off and he longed for the days he could wear robes again. He would surely be laughed at by his friends if they heard him saying that.
Or perhaps it was just the fact that he knew he wasn’t allowed to wear them, unless he wanted to stick out like a sore thumb, that made his longing all the stronger. Though across both worlds, exercise clothes were the same.
He slowed to a stop to take a long swig from his bottle of water and looked around.
His life just felt so pointless.
What was he to do now that his identity was stripped from him? He was still Harry’s father, that would never change but what else was he? He couldn’t get any sort of job in the muggle or wizard world, he had no hobbies really, he had no friends or family besides Lily, and he was forced to just drift along until something changed.
It was like he was a hundred year old wizard who had lived a full life and was now left to enjoy a life of simple luxuries, going out for walks or having a nice meal. He wasn’t like all the other young adults around him now.
When he got back home, he found Lily had already started on dinner.
“What’s this?” he asked curiously as he walked further into the kitchen. They usually made dinner together or ordered out so this was a nice surprise to walk in to.
Lily turned around from the stove with Harry on her hip. Her eyes were bright and her smile was a bit strained as she said, “Nothing!” and turned back around. Harry, however, kept his eyes on him and he started reaching out over Lily’s shoulder for him. She quickly handed him off before going back and stirring whatever she was making.
“That smells nice,” he commented as he poked at Harry’s face and laughed. “But I’m still wondering what the occasion is?”
“I just wanted to do something nice, now go shower, you’re all sweaty,” she ordered and he had to admit she was right.
“Is daddy stinky?” he asked Harry who slapped his hands over his nose- clearly he agreed.
He put Harry up in his high chair and went to wash off and when he came back, he saw that she had already finished making the meal and was waiting to plate it up.
She seemed a bit calmer now as she took off her ‘Kiss me I’m the chef!’ apron and straightened her clothes. She took her hair down and he saw that it was a bit shorter than before- where it used to go past her waist, it was now at her collarbone,
“You cut your hair?” he commented.
“Oh yeah, I did it myself today after we got back, I wanted to change it up a bit- do you like it?” she asked, tugging the ends self-consciously.
“I think you look beautiful Lils,” he smiled as he set the table and pulled her seat out for her.
He could still sense a nervous sort of energy and saw from the corner of his eye as she opened her mouth, closed it again, and repeated it over and over and it was starting to drive him a little mad.
He brought the pots over and saw she had made spaghetti- one of his many favourites and his suspicions were confirmed.
Once he scooped a serving for Harry and they each took their own, he spoke up, “So what is it?”
“What’s what?” she asked, slurping up a noodle, flinging red sauce everywhere.
“You clearly have something to say so just say it,” he shrugged as he shovelled more food in his mouth. While he was good at cooking a few dishes, his expertise lied in the realm of baking, so he was happy to leave the cooking to Lily.
“I think…I’d like to get a job,” she said, setting her utensils down. He peeked down and saw that her nails were rubbed raw, a bad habit she leaned into whenever she was stressed.
“Er- okay, what inspired this idea?” he trailed off uncertainly.
Lily’s lip thinned, “See I knew I shouldn’t have brought it up, I don’t even know why-” she wiped her mouth before throwing the napkin aside and standing up.
“Lily, let’s talk about it-” he stood up trying to catch her wrist before she left but she managed to evade him, going straight to her room. He was about to follow until he heard the door handle click meaning she had locked it and he sighed.
He was left alone to finish his meal and deal with Harry’s now red-stained face and hands.
__________
After Harry was put to bed and the sun had fallen, he gave Lily’s door one final quiet knock and he heard some shuffling before she opened the door, sullen and teary-eyed. She didn’t say anything as she left the door open and turned to climb back into bed.
He quietly followed in after her and he was going to go to the small chair she had set in the corner but she just patted the side of the bed and he climbed right in with her. She sat right up, back straight against the headboard, and stared at the empty wall across from her.
“Is Harry down for the night?” she murmured.
He nodded. Then, reaching out, he placed a hand on her wrist, “What’s wrong?” he asked, because he knew it wasn’t as simple as his shock causing her to go back on her idea and storm out of dinner.
She sighed and turned to look at him, “Is it over for us?” she questioned.
He was taken aback for a moment before turning back in, “What do you mean?”
She played with her fingers, her thumbs dancing with each other atop the cream coloured duvet, "It’s just… everything used to make so much sense. We graduated, both of us joined the Order, and eventually became Aurors, fighting to get rid of You-Know-Who. Then we had Harry—unexpected, but we loved him all the same. I always thought that once we got out of hiding and You-Know-Who was gone, we’d go back to our normal lives: co-parent Harry, go back to work, eventually send him off to school, and I’d marry Mary. Our lives had a plan...
“Now neither of us can work, we don’t have any other friends, we’re stuck in this country where we don’t know anyone. Harry has no friends and I know he’s a baby but it’s looking more and more grim and frankly, I don’t know how long this is going to last. We can’t even teach him magic so what? He’s going to be ten and still out of school and unaware of magic? How’s he going to go to school? And what about us? Are we just-” she began spiralling, her voice slowly climbing in pitch and tempo.
He pulled her down beside him, wrapping his arms tightly around her as she curled into herself. Gently, he stroked the back of her head, watching silky strands of red and gold hair slip through his tanned fingers, soothing her even though he had been spiralling through his own thoughts just a few hours earlier. He was so grateful for this closeness with Lily, for the way it never felt weird or awkward between them after all they’d been through. Their platonic love was enough to fill that aching void he carried inside after him.
“I think we should just take things slow. We haven’t been here very long and we’re still so painfully young. In regards to you getting a job, I was just surprised but I think if that’s something you’d like to do then you should do it, it might be nice to get out of the house more often and interact with others. I’ve honestly been struggling about thinking what to do as well but I’m sure something will come by. When Harry’s a bit older, we’ll put him in primary school just like the rest of the muggles and when the time comes for him to go to Hogwarts, well we’ll just put a bit of makeup on him, stick him in some brown contacts, and shave his head, and he can go in as Buford Snape, Severus’ even weirder younger brother,” he cajoled and Lily laughed, her spirits instantly uplifted.
She felt better but her eyes went a bit distant and soft when she continued, “I think about Mary a lot as well…and how she might feel now that I’m gone.”
“When the time comes for us to go back, I’m sure you two will find your way back to each other,” he nudged.
The sounds of late-night Paris floated up to their window—teenagers laughing, cars honking, and the ambient hum of the bustling city. At home, James had been used to sleeping in complete silence, with the isolation all around him, but he found he liked the noise here. It helped quiet his mind when he was left alone with his thoughts at night. He still woke up early, but at least falling asleep wasn’t much of a struggle.
“Do you ever think about Reg-,”
“No,” he instantly cut her off by saying, readying to sit up. With just a word, she had shattered the little bubble they had created for themselves.
“James…talking about it might help-,” she tried, turning up to face him.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” he said though his heart morphed into a canary and started thumping in his rib cage painfully, begging to be let out. His palms sweated and sudden discomfort seeped into his every cell.
Lily looked like she was about to say something further but then they heard the noise of Harry’s whimpers on the baby monitor and he got shot up, using it as an excuse to make a quick exit.
“Goodnight,” he called over his shoulder.
Goodnight James,” Lily sighed.
__________
“Stop that,” Regulus murmured without looking up from his parchment where he was furiously scribbling at his Charms essay that was due first thing the following morning. The desk he was currently sitting at was covered in multiple textbooks and drafts of his essay that he discarded because they simply weren’t good enough. His ink pot sat precariously at the edge of the table and James was just waiting for it to inevitably fall.
“Stop what?” James asked as he lay on his stomach on the bed. He had a Transfiguration book in front of him but that didn’t mean he was reading it. In fact, he hadn’t flipped a page since he entered the Room, instead content to rest his head atop folded hands and watch Regulus work.
“You’re watching me, don’t you have to actually do the readings?” he sniffed.
“What if I like watching you?” he retorted, smiling at his profile.
Regulus’ hand twitched before continuing but James was pleased to see a pink blush appear at the apples of Regulus’ cheeks.
After a moment of plotting, James asked, “Wait Reg, can you come here, I don’t understand what this is saying,” he complained, pouting.
Regulus sighed before standing up, cracking his tense and ink-stained fingers, “What?” he asked, rubbing his eyes. He really had been working for quite some time now
Once he stood by the bed at James’ side, he threw a hand out and pulled Regulus onto the bed in one arm. He wriggled against him but James had spun them around so that he had landed atop a frazzled, windswept, and amused Regulus.
“This is not reading,” he hmphed but his lips curled up anyways.
James just leaned down to remove an errant strand of raven coloured hair from his eyes, “No, it is not,” he hummed before dropping down to press a kiss to his lips.
“James I have to finish working, I can’t-.”
“You can take a break,” he murmured against his neck that he was currently peppering kisses against, sucking the delicate skin there. He could just barely feel the light fluttering of his pulse against his high collar.
Regulus threaded his fingers into his hair, pulled him down into a bruising kiss, before escaping the cage of his arms by sliding down and away from him. He walked back to his desk, hips swinging, and said over his shoulder, “Not yet love.”
He rolled his eyes and turned so he was laying on his back and watching some constellation spread out endlessly above him. The winter months made it impossible to go to the Astronomy Tower and look at the stars like he and Regulus often liked to do but the Room of Requirement sensed this need and thankfully, put this backdrop up every time they came in here.
His eyes slowly closed, and when he opened them again, he found Regulus lying directly next to him, with his head at the foot of the bed just like his. Looking up, he noticed that the stars had shifted slightly, indicating that at least a couple of hours had passed. He saw that Regulus was still awake, his silver eyes tracking his own.
“Are you done?” he murmured.
He nodded and turned so that he was wrapped up in James’ arms.
“Do you want to…?” Regulus asked, trailing off.
“I just want to hold you for a bit first,” he whispered, deeply inhaling the familiar scent of aloe and sandalwood, the same scent he detected in his Amortentia all that time ago.
“I love you,” Regulus whispered, blinking tiredly up at him.
He’d never tire of hearing that, “I love you more than you’ll ever know,” he replied in turn.
They both slept like that, wrapped up in each other so that every inch of their body touched in one way or another, before they were rudely awoken by the sun rising and the bell ringing.
This time, when he opened his eyes in the morning, it wasn’t from a nightmare but a…nice memory.
He didn’t often have those when it came to Regulus. He had somehow boxed up all of his memories of Regulus like he was just someone he had gone to school with a very long time ago and hadn’t spoken to much.
Thinking about Regulus, how he truly knew him, hurt so profoundly and deeply that James preferred to never think about him at all.
When he first died, James thought he might have died too. He locked himself in his room for days on end, not eating or drinking, not even sleeping- he was just lost in a cascade of memories of him but the one that hurt the most was his memory of Regulus the day he left.
James, stupid and idiotic, was supposed to see Regulus the night before he left but had gotten caught up drinking with Peter at his home with his family.
He’d invited him over for dinner and he accepted out of excitement because Pete had been so busy “working” and once he had been sufficiently plied with food and drink after a long day, he fell asleep in Pete’s bed in a bit of a sleepover.
It was only when he woke up a couple of hours later that he remembered he had to see Regulus. He immediately apparated back home where they were supposed to meet and he’d only just caught him on his way out.
Regulus said he was late and had to go but that he wasn’t upset and James had just let him .
He regretted that moment every day since, wondering if anything might have changed if he forced Regulus to stay or accompanied him wherever he went. If he just hadn’t been so stupid to stay with the one that betrayed him rather than the one that loved him, maybe Regulus would still be here and he wouldn’t be so godsdamned heartbroken about it.
After waking up, he couldn’t go back to sleep so he just grabbed the book he had stolen from the coffee shop and began reading.
__________
“Your pick today,” he smiled at Marc who grinned right back at him.
“You are brave after the mushroom drink I must say,” he raised his brows as he began tapping into the register.
“Okay, anything but that,” he amended. “For him, can I just get a cup of hot chocolate please?”
Harry babbled happily, throwing some toys he was supposed to keep in his lap on the ground. James rounded the pram and hastily picked them back up and shoved them in Harry’s fists, “Keep these in your hands Harry,” he explained slowly and he nodded fiercely.
Standing back up, he paid Marc for their drinks and sat back down.
He sat across from Harry who contentedly stared out the window, watching people strolling by, some looking back at him, others too lost in their own world. There were a few dogs that came by that really grabbed his attention but otherwise he just sat calmly and stared, a win that James happily accepted.
When Marc came by, he didn’t have his apron or nametag on anymore but he was holding their drinks,
“I just got off my morning shift and I was wondering if you’d like to share a cup?” he asked congenially.
“Of course,” James hastily said, scooting over to one side so he could put the drinks down on the small decorative table and join him.
“Thanks,” he smiled and he handed Harry a small foam cup topped with an exorbitant amount of whip cream.
He watched Harry pick up the cup, shove his face in the cream, before putting it back down and James had faith that he wouldn’t spill it all over himself.
He looked down at his cup and Marc helpfully supplied, “I was inspired by your son's drink and made you a Caffè Marocchino. It’s espresso, milk, and cocoa powder.”
He took a sip and relished the richness of the drink, the sweet cocoa mixing with the bitter espresso. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought Marc was back there making all these drinks with his wand.
Marc then informed him that while he was raised in France, he was actually born in Manchester which explained his penchant for English quite well. His mother was native French and while she spent her uni years in England, she’d always dreamed of settling back down in France and here he was.
“Do you ever wish you could go back home? Perhaps to raise…” he trailed off, looking at Harry.
Harry, so well-mannered, meant James hadn’t really looked at him but was now faced with a boy that was more beard than face and he grabbed a quick cloth to wipe at the excess foam that had dried all over his chin.
“Harry,” he answered, “And er-” he desperately wanted to say yes but instead chose, “We haven’t decided yet. Harry’s still so young but we’ll definitely have a chat when he grows up a bit more. Who knows what’s in our future.”
“Is your wife also British?” he queried over the lid of his mug.
James stifled a laugh behind his hand, “Oh no, sorry, we’re not married.”
“Sorry, the ring, I just thought-” he gestured to the gold band on the ring finger of his right hand.
“Oh no, this is just a family ring,” he replied, “Lily and I were childhood friends. When we grew up, we got into a relationship and we had Harry but we realised we’re much better off as friends. Still, we co-parent Harry together, she’s great.”
Marc nodded deeply and he looked like he was about to reply when a shout yelped from the front by the counter.
They, along with everyone else in the cafe, turned to look and a man was standing up, rubbing at his forehead before angrily stomping round the counter and heading to the back.
Marc jumped up, “That’s my boss, let me see what’s happened, I’ll be right back!” He scurried off in the same direction his boss went, face knitted with concern.
He and Harry had both finished their drinks by the time Marc awkwardly came back. In his hand, was a yellow toy sports car, “I believe this is Harry’s?”
“Oh my- oh I’m so sorry, I thought I’d picked them all up,” he grabbed it from Marc and looked at Harry who was in fact, only playing with two cars instead of his favourite number of three. He just put the car in a pocket at the side of the pram, “Please apologise to your boss for me, or if I could perhaps-.”
He shook his head with a placating hand, “He’s fine, he’s a bit of a grump anyways, I’m sure if you went to apologise, he’d just be harsh. Plus you’re now my favourite customer so I’d like you to not be banned,” he winked.
After a bit more conversation, Harry started to get fussy and it was looking like his naptime was rapidly approaching.
“I have to go back home now anyways but here, take my number,” he wrote on a slip of napkin. “My friends and I are planning on going out to a bar tomorrow at 9pm, you should come, I’m sure you’ll fit right in.”
James accepted it and looked at the name- The Crescent Star, “Thank you, I’d love to come,” he said, trying to contain his glee.
With a final nod, he was off and James sat, stunned, for a moment longer. He couldn’t believe he had actually made a friend, and was about to potentially make more. It had started to feel like maybe his life was starting to move forward from when he had been stuck in a ditch for forever.
While Marc was not Sirius or Remus or any other of his numberable friends, he was kind and easy to talk to and it offered a sort of companionship he had not had in a very long time.
He would count today as success though he still made a swift exit while Marc’s boss was gone because he was still terribly embarrassed on both their behalfs.
Maybe, just maybe, his life was making a turn for the better.