ghosts of memories
He ran an oval shaped divot into the floor of his room as he paced back and forth, waiting for the clock to reach 10PM when he’d be able to slip out undetected. His biggest obstacle would be Lily and whether or not she would be asleep by then but he’d put Harry down for the night, made her a nice cuppa, and bid her goodnight which usually prompted her to follow him to bed as well. James strained his ears beyond his door and couldn’t hear any noise coming from the tele or the radio so it was looking promising.
When the clock finally reached the fateful time, he sucked in a deep breath and slowly pulled his door open. His steps were feather light as he tiptoed past her room in the corridor and into the living room. He looked both ways, saw that the coast was clear, and hastily made his way out of the front door, shutting it behind him and finally loosing the breath he’d been holding.
Gods he was so nervous right now but ever since seeing Regulus, he’d been all out of sorts. He reasoned that this was the only way he’d be able to put this issue to bed.
Steeling himself, he left, walking far from his neighbourhood towards an apparition point he’d located last night from the comfort of his room with his wand. He had been so excited to cast such a simple spell that he had to contain himself and resist the urge to continue casting random useless spells just for the sake of it.
There were a few muggles milling about but none paid him any mind as he slipped behind a building towards the empty apparition point. He pulled his wand from his sleeve, raised it up, and turned on his heel, praying he didn’t get splinched along the way as he was travelling internationally.
When he landed in a dirty alley in London a few moments later, his body loose and unsteady but undeniably whole after being pulled through time and space, a surprised laugh burst out of him.
Apparition was already challenging for most witches and wizards, let alone crossing continental borders. But James had a natural talent for it, mastering the skill quickly and pushing his limits with each attempt. His ability to travel great distances proved invaluable as a member of the Order, allowing him to be seemingly everywhere at once. However, it had been a while, and his nerves didn’t help. Still, he knew this part of London intimately, able to picture it clearly so he was able to walk away from his landing point with confidence, splinch-free and with all his fingers and toes intact.
He ambled down the pavement, easily strolling among the muggles and feeling comfort in their crowd.
It was much louder and busier here than where they lived now, as if London never slept. Shops and restaurants were still open, serving patrons, and young groups of people were out on the town as though they’d only just left their homes.
When he made it to La Fontaine’s, a speakeasy-style bar, he straightened his back and knocked on the door once, whispering the standard password through the slit in the door though they likely would’ve let him in regardless- they mostly just did it for show.
The burly guy behind the door let him in and he slowly descended the narrow staircase as he let the outside world blur and fade. With each step down, the muffled sounds of clinking glasses and distant jazz music became clearer, the instrument’s low hum mingling with soft conversations. The smell of aged whiskey and rich leather filled the air, along with a faint trace of cigar smoke that lingered like a secret whispered in the dark.
When he reached the bottom, a red velvet curtain was pulled aside to reveal the speakeasy rolling out before him. Grand chandeliers twinkled overhead, bathing the room in a soft glow, and patrons sat around candle-lit tables idly chatting and drinking, casting furtive glances over tables and eyeing him up as he walked further in.
When he reached the polished bar on the opposite side of the room, he tilted his head up to eye the shelves crammed with all types of liquor both muggle and magical. He ordered a firewhiskey and the bartender produced it within seconds, sliding it over the counter to him and writing it down for when he’d inevitably have to pay.
James carried his glass to a familiar booth in the back and slid into the seat, unsure if the carving would still be there but sure enough, etched into the right corner of the table, were the initials: 'J. P. F. + R. A. B.'
His heart clenched as he traced the letters with his finger, memories flooding back with every stroke.
“James, you can’t just defile public property like that!” Regulus urged as he tried to push James’ wand away from the table.
“Oh come on, this is practically our table anyways,” he pushed him off, carefully trying to write his initials but all the alcohol was starting to catch up to him and he could hardly see straight. His hands trembled as he tried to write as nicely as possible.
“Look at James, publicly declaring his love, why don’t you do any grand gestures for me like that,” Evan frowned as he watched them, turning towards Barty with an accusatory look on his face.
“I have your initials literally tattooed on me, this is child’s play,” he hmphed towards James and Evan melted, grinning at him as he started playfully pulling on the collar of his shirt to look at said tattoo.
As he continued scribbling his initials, he turned over his shoulder to peer at Regulus who was smiling lazily at him, his eyes heavy lidded and cheeks rosy. They all loved this bar, the anonymity it offered, the free flowing alcohol and the music, and the way nothing else in the world mattered but the singular moment they were in.
He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the side of his mouth, grinning as Regulus met him halfway and sidled their lips together, bringing his hands up to either side of his head to pull him in closer.
Halfway through, he remembered what he had been doing and turned back to the table only to see he’d gotten his initials wrong, putting the P in front of the F rather than the other way around.
They all started howling with laughter, their liquor-addled mind finding this hilarious though to be fair, it was funny either way.
Still, it served to loosen Regulus up who very carefully inscribed his initials after his, his eyebrows furrowed and lip peeking out of the corner of his lip as he concentrated.
Once he leaned back he smiled, “There, now no one else can claim this table or deny our love, it serves multiple purposes.”
“Now can we get back to dancing or what?” Barty questioned, slamming his hands down on the table once before hauling Regulus up by the arm. Regulus, who curled a beckoning finger towards James, forced him up too and James followed him onto the dance floor, letting the world’s pleasures sweep him up once more.
He was now at the table alone with only his memories here left to comfort him, that is, until a familiar face entered the bar, wide-eyed and suspicious. His gaze swept across the room, gliding over him at first before snapping back, locking on James, and staying there.
He stood there, staring, jaw slack, for a good minute before remembering that his legs worked and hurrying over to him. He looked a bit older now—whether from actual age or the toll of stress, James couldn’t tell—but his boyish face remained, framed by sandy blonde curls and those sharp, light blue eyes, strikingly reminiscent of Dumbledore’s.
“What the fuck am I looking at right now,” Evan hissed as he reached the table, hands braced on the edge as he leaned in, getting impossibly close. James couldn’t recall ever being this close to Evan before, and since he hadn’t been sure if Evan would even show up, he hadn’t bothered to rehearse what he’d say when the moment arrived.
“I can explain,” he started.
Evan slid into the booth across from him, head cradled in his hands as he breathed, “Please do because last time I checked, you’re supposed to be dead.”
____________
When he finished explaining his side of the story, Evan just shook his head, “You are so lucky I’m good at Occlumency because holy shit. You’ve been out there, living a happy little life as a muggle, while the rest of us are barely making it by, having to somehow survive a war waged by a deranged halfblood with no nose and a geriatric wizard who can barely tell his wand from his prick.” He took a sip from James’ glass and leaned back in his seat, completely awestricken.
“I know, it’s a lot to take in but we weren’t allowed to tell anybody what happened,” he sighed, staring down at the table.
“I mean do you have any idea what your friends got up to when you three left?” Evan pushed. He looked stressed out of his mind and James hated to be the cause of it but he had no other choice.
James could only shake his head in response to his question.
“I mean, just last week Sirius ran straight into a hideout full of all types of beasts- hags, vampires, and the lot. It was an obvious trap, so much so that members of the DE set up an alternate trap because they figured he would realise this one and fall into the other. He barely made it out alive and you know what he did the entire time?”
James felt as though he were being chastised, as if all of this were somehow his fault, even though he never wanted to be in this position. Or perhaps it was just the guilt bubbling up inside him—subconscious and nagging—because while he spent his days taking leisurely walks and trying out new restaurants, his own world was quietly crumbling behind his back.
He shook his head again at a loss.
“He fucking laughed James. His arm was a snap away from falling off and he laughed in their faces- he didn’t care whether he lived or died,” he finished with brutal honesty.
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” he whispered honestly, looking from the table back up to his imploring blue eyes.
The rest of the bar drowned away and he realised Evan had put a silencing charm around their booth, offering them both privacy and James was grateful for it because he didn’t think he had the strength in him to speak any louder.
After a long moment, Evan breathed and the tension seemed to dissipate with it, “Look I’m sorry it’s just- it’s a lot to take in. I don’t know if you would say the same but I- I considered you a friend James, your death, disappearance, whatever it is really affected us. I’m happy to see you.” He nudged his hand with his own, a sad little smile curling up on his lips and James felt like he could at least return that gesture, smiling up at him in turn.
He absolutely considered Evan a friend and it was one of the many reasons he chose to write to him above everyone else.
Out of Regulus’ entire friend group, he was the one he could trust most reliably to act cool and calm, to think critically, and to help him with answers to the multitude of questions he had. He wasn’t loyal to the DE either which helped his purposes.
Additionally, Dorcas was gone, Pandora stayed steadfastly out of the war, and Barty was…Barty, and Evan had all the aforementioned qualities. He reminded James a bit of Remus or Lily which made talking to him all the easier.
A waitress had come by with refills for the two of them and they nodded up at her before she left again and they could resume speaking.
“Now are you going to tell me what we are doing here ?” he looked around and James could see the ghosts of memories floating before his eyes as well.
“Like I mentioned in my letter, I have some questions and you’re the only person I could think of to come meet me and have answers.”
“Well I admit, I don’t usually respond to unmarked letters but I was curious,” he said with a casual shrug, though his eyes were still sharp and wary. He leaned back slightly, crossing his arms as if gauging the situation, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
That was exactly what James was banking on as he was more likely between him and Barty to actually show up. But now it was time for questions and there was no easy way to segue into this so, taking a big swig of his drink, he asked, “What happened when Regulus died?”
James watched as confusion and shock rippled across Evan’s face. It was clear he hadn’t heard his name in a long time; the word seemed to hit him like a physical blow. His eyes widened in disbelief, and he stared at James as if he’d lost his mind.
“You know what happened to him…” he replied vaguely.
“No I don’t think I do,” James retorted gravely because as much as he hated to believe it- it was true.
James initially found out Regulus died when it was printed in The Prophet. There had been about four days between Regulus' disappearance, when he simply walked right out on him, and between the printing of the paper. James was curious in the interim but was so used to Regulus’ disappearances that he just hadn’t thought much of it.
Seeing the paper had rocked his world and he turned to Sirius who locked himself away in his room for the next few days, oblivious to his grief as well.
James didn’t believe it so he turned to Evan and Barty who confirmed it was somehow true, stating that Voldemort said that Regulus had been ‘taken care of’ and that his name was not to be stated again for ‘secrecy measures’ or whatever it was.
Then that was just…it.
And clearly James didn’t already know what happened because Regulus survived. Voldemort had lied to his followers, The Prophet lied to their readers, and no one was the wiser, simply moving on with their lives.
Or, in an even more sinister fashion, they all truly believe that he had died and no one but Regulus knew the truth.
“He died, I don’t know why you’re bringing this up now when-,” Evan was quickly becoming emotional and James needed to snap him back into focus.
“Evan he disappeared , did you not once think to maybe find him? Or even find his body? If there’s no body then there’s no death,” he rambled, his voice picking up in speed as the gears in his head began spinning.
Only, Evan wasn’t sharing any of his enthusiasm, he only looked at James with pity and he hated it because he knew he was on to something.
“James, we got a letter,” he breathed, shaking his head like he didn’t want to admit that. “We always thought you had gotten one too but clearly, you didn’t.”
“What are you talking about?”
Evan flourished a hand and a sheaf of parchment popped into existence. James quietly marvelled at the wandless magic for only a moment before he handed it to him. Evan looked like he couldn’t stand to look at it much less touch it.
He flipped back the page and started reading, Regulus’ beautiful cursive script instantly familiar,
Evan,
I’m not sure why I chose to start with your letter but I’m already starting to forget what I was meant to say. Or maybe, I’m just not sure how to go about it but I suppose I wanted to start by thanking you.
I wanted to thank you for being such a good friend to me ,
James skimmed forward, unable to contain himself and his gaze snagged on a paragraph on the second page,
By the time you’re reading this, I’ll be gone.
You don’t need to come looking for me or for some proof of where I’ve gone because there won’t be any, of this I am sure.
But I want you to know that I’m doing the right thing for once.
I thought I could do it- could listen to Voldemort’s orders and do whatever he was bidding as his ‘star pupil’ but I can’t. I can’t wait it out anymore- it’s clear Dumbledore and The Order aren’t going to succeed in whatever it is they’re trying to do and I can’t just defect without putting all of you in danger.
I found a way to stop him, or atleast slow him down for the time being. I can’t go into more detail without putting you at risk (Side note: please work on your Occlumency, you’re absolutely shite) but I need you to know that he’s not immortal as he says he is- it’s a ploy, he is mortal and he can be defeated. Unfortunately, I just won’t be the one to do it.
I haven’t told anyone about this plan, not even James, I can’t bear to do that to him but I know you can handle it.
I also need someone to know that I died doing the right thing…I want someone to know that I chose to do something good with what was left of my miserable life.
You, Barty, Pandora, and Dorcas made life bearable and I love each of you more than words could ever explain. You helped me growing up, when Sirius left and Voldemort came in and my parents slowly went mad- you lot were there for me through it all. I know you joke that I only care about James now and while I do love him a great deal, it could never replace the bond the four of us have.
I’m sorry I couldn’t stay with you four longer but this is something I have to do for all of us.
I love you
R. A. B.
He was glad the letter was over because his eyes were so full of tears he couldn’t see straight. He tried to school his breathing but it wasn't working and when he rubbed at his eyes in an attempt to stem the tears, they only came out stronger, the tears spilling down his cheeks in hot, stinging tracks.
Had he even known Regulus at all? He planned the whole thing out- he planned on dying and just hadn’t told anyone? Or rather, he just hadn’t told him. He didn’t receive a letter or anything like it, just a vague promise to spend an evening together that he missed because he had gotten caught up with Peter of all people.
Why didn’t he warrant a letter?
Questions swirled in his mind, clashing with the overwhelming grief he felt for how desperate Regulus had been to prove he’d done the right thing. That he wasn’t a coward or a puppet for anyone, and that in his own way, he had defied Voldemort.
James had told him over and over that he knew he was good. Regulus didn’t need to be a saviour, an angel, or a saint—just being himself was enough. He was a good person trapped in a terrible situation, and James believed that Regulus knew it, too.
Why hadn’t it been enough?
He cried into his hands at the misery of it all and he felt a warm hand rubbing circles into his back,
“I’m sorry James but he’s gone…”
Where had this been three years ago? Why hadn’t anyone told him about this fucking letter or what he planned to do?
He wanted to throttle the Regulus of three years ago- to yell and shout at him for what he was planning to do. James knew he should’ve stopped him on his way out, begging him to spend the day together but he’d just let him go in his alcohol and sleep-addled mind. If only he’d just tried harder.
But that Regulus was gone and all that was left was a shadow of him with no answers to offer.
He gathered himself, knowing that there was no use crying over something that hadn’t happened and recovered.
“I’m sorry, I’ve just been thinking about him more often lately and I…I don’t know what I thought I’d find,” he said to Evan, eyes drawn to their carving on the table and hands cradling his drink but not taking a sip. The cool condensation on the sides chilled his hands and grounded him.
Evan leaned in, “You have nothing to apologise for, it’s nothing I haven’t gone over a hundred times myself.
“Did you ever find out what it is he did? I mean he doesn’t even clarify anything…” James asked, going through the parchments again and not finding any clues.
Evan shook his head again, “Nope. I couldn’t find anything that might help and Kreacher refused to speak but I’m not sure he knew anything either, he seemed as grief-stricken as the rest of us.”
He hadn’t thought about Kreacher in quite some time now and the start of an idea just barely sparked in his mind but he didn’t want to get too into it now, instead he wanted to ask Evan a different question.
“What’s been happening since we left?”
____________
“And Pandora got married to Xenophilius,” Evan finished, leaning back with his brows raised, taking a sip of his drink.
“Really? I mean we always knew it would happen but that’s lovely,” James smiled, dropping his chin into his hand.
He was sad to have missed it- he loved weddings though he hadn’t actually been to very many. Still, he’d only attended Frank and Alice’s- the only couple as crazy as him and Lily to get together and have a child in the middle of a war, and it was amazing.
Evan described the wedding and then wound the topic back to the Longbottoms,
“And they’re still gods knows where but Voldemort’s sort of moved on from them. I mean he gave a general order to ‘keep an eye out’ whatever that means but he’s under the hopeful assumption you’re dead, despite the lack of bodies, so he’s confidently moved on,” he said, absently waving a hand though the quirk in his lip suggested the irony of the situation.
“That’s good, obviously,” James huffed, tapping a finger along to the smooth beat of the club. It was still decently full despite the clock ticking towards 1AM. It was getting to that point of the evening where witches and wizards came dressed in their full garb of robes and pointed hats and the muggles were too drunk out of their mind to care or they just considered it part of a bit that the bar was hosting.
“How is he anyways, Harry I mean?” Evan asked gently.
James couldn’t help but smile, he’d never really had the chance to talk to anyone outside of his immediate circle about Harry, “He’s…wonderful. He’s small but has the lungs of a siren the way he cries. He’s got Lily’s eyes and my hair and he’s curious about everything. I mean if you let him loose for even a minute, he’s already run half a kilometre, he’s that quick. He’s still learning how to talk and that but he’s so smart, he’s just everything I could’ve asked for,” he breathed, a warm smile spreading across his face and his eyes shining with pride.
Everytime he thought about the world going to shite, he just needed to think about Harry and it made everything okay again, so long as Harry was okay- he was okay.
Evan stayed quiet for a moment, lips twitching as he seemed deep in thought about something and when he opened his mouth to speak, no sound came out until he tried again, “He would be really happy for you, y’know?”
And just like that, that sour feeling returned.
“Regulus I mean. A lot of times, especially when I’m drunk, I think about what his future might’ve looked like and I always see you and him, living in some nice manor house out in the country. He’d be some sort of Potions master, maybe he’d have like a cat or something because he liked them,” a smile started growing on Evans face, the same one James had when talking about Harry, “He’d definitely have a garden but all the plants would be dead-.”
A laugh pushed out of him then, “I don’t know why he insisted on keeping plants when they all died, your dorm was like a graveyard.”
Evan started shaking from the force of his laugh, “I know- I mean all the tips I gave him and still. Your house would’ve been littered in dead plant pots and books, they’d probably cover every surface.
His tone became more sombre then, “But when I think about whether he’d have some sort of family, I draw a blank… I don’t know if he ever would, and that’s hard to accept. I can only speculate about his future, which would never come to pass, and I can’t predict whether he’d have kids of his own given his past. But all that said, I really don’t think he would’ve been upset about you having a child. From the way you talk about Harry, I believe he would’ve been genuinely happy for you.”
Evan had just scooped out the guiltest part of him, the sick part of him that shouted at him everytime he thought about how quickly he had Harry, about how he’d moved on too fast after he died, and what life with Regulus would’ve been like had he been around because Harry likely wouldn’t have existed in that case. It was a myriad of compounded worries that Evan had smoothed over like a healing salve.
“He would’ve loved Draco though. He, unfortunately, looks exactly like Malfoy- his hair is pure white and he’s already got a haughty little sneer with his pinched nose, but his eyes are like quicksilver, almost exactly like Regs. He’s a happy baby and his mum dotes on him so much that I already know he’s going to grow up spoiled but Regulus would’ve been a good uncle for him,” he nodded and James hadn’t even known Narcissa was pregnant, much less that she had a baby boy.
It was a sobering reminder of how life had been passing them by but he was grateful for how forthcoming Evan had been and he was sure to tell him as much but when James thought about telling him what he knew of present moment Regulus, being that he was a happy little owner of a cafe with no memory of him, he froze. He couldn’t bring himself to speak about Regulus and he wondered if he was right in keeping this to himself.
Something about him almost felt possessive over him again like now that he has him back, he couldn’t bear to share him with anyone else which was mad because it wasn’t like that but still. The urge to stay quiet overpowered his need for honesty so he remained silent.
They both finished off their drinks, a bit buzzed to be honest, and Evan sighed, “So how likely is it that I’ll go home and find out that this was all some alcohol-induced hallucination and you actually are dead.”
“Probably quite high if we’re honest,” James grinned but when the waitress brought round a pen and paper for him to sign to pay the bill, he used to pen to write ‘James was here’ on a napkin and shoved it into his pocket, “There, now you’ll have proof, but don’t go showing that to just anyone.”
“It’s a good thing I do the laundry, not Barty then,” he winked and made to stand. He looked awkward and before he thought better of it, he ended up pulling him into a hug, “Keep in touch somehow okay? I can’t afford to lose any more friends.”
James, agreeing with the sentiment, nodded and promised, “Thank you for coming today, I didn’t mean to just unload everything but-.”
“It was needed, it’s nice to share my thoughts about Regulus, it’s hard keeping it all in sometimes,” he patted his shoulder and they walked out together.
“It’s hard coming back here, all the memories,” James gestured around absently once they made it to the top of the stairs.
“Hopefully someday we can make some new ones together,” Evan replied optimistically as the bouncer opened the door, letting the night-cold air rush in to meet them.
James hadn’t even considered that, that maybe one day this might all be over but now that he’d got it in his mind, he couldn’t shake it as a candlelight flickered to life inside of him, fueling a long burnt out ember.
____________
He slipped in through the front door quietly enough, making it two steps inside until his foot hit a decorative serving table to his right and he cursed as he jumped side to side, trying to smother the shout that was begging to be ripped from his throat. However, in doing so, he toppled over a painting that was hung on the other wall next to him.
A light burst to life in the sitting room and he saw an annoyed Lily cradling an unimpressed Harry. She was sitting, one leg draped over the other, in a tall wingback chair and James was sure he was about to receive a detention from the imperious way she was sitting looking much like a headmaster, only she was in unicorn pyjamas and had sleep wrinkles on her face.
“It’s,” a glance to her imaginary watch, “half past three in the morning. What exactly were you doing roaming the streets at that hour?”
“I- er-, bloody hell why do I feel like I’m on the Wizengamot,” he tried to laugh but it came out thin and reedy. He was sure he was more scared now than he was facing Voldemort walking up his front steps.
“You might as well consider me your judge because why did I wake up an hour ago to you not in your bed which I very clearly saw you go to,” she questioned, hand gripping the armrest tightly.
“I just went out for a walk is all Lils,” he tried to explain, putting his hands out placatingly.
“You smell like Sirius after a night out,” she retorted, nose wrinkling. “I understand you’ve gotten comfortable here, made some friends and all, but when we are actively in hiding, leaving in the night for some escapade, leaving Harry and I behind, might not be the best idea.” Harry fussed in her arms as if also disappointed in him.
All the alcohol left his system then as he came down from his high, “I’m sorry, truly.” He didn’t know how to explain the smell and the buzz without saying he was at a bar which would just sound worse and based on the way she was looking at him, clearly Lily already knew.
She sighed as the fight drained from her and she stepped closer to him. Her green eyes flicked between his own, seeing right down into his very soul, and she raised a slender hand to his cheek, “I’m worried,” she murmured.
He brought a hand up to rest over hers, “Don’t be, we’re o-kay.”
Her brows drew together, “No, I’m worried about you.” She stood on her toes and pressed a light kiss to his cheeks before passing Harry over to him and walking back into her bedroom without another word, leaving him standing in the entryway wondering what the hell to do.
____________
“What are you up to?” Marc asked as he sat down across from James in what he now liked to call his nook. James came in early today and thankfully, Regulus wasn’t there which wasn’t a thought he usually had but he couldn’t handle seeing or dealing with him right now.
He was dialled in on the newspaper in his hands.
“What are your thoughts on clowns?” he mused, taking a sip of his iced mocha, an odd choice for such a cold day.
“Hate them, absolutely despise them,” Marc cringed as he played with a chain around his neck.
“Well, what about duckmasters? I reckon I could do it, I’m good with animals,” he asked instead.
Marc reached out and pulled the top of the paper down so they could properly see each other, “Mate is that even a real job? What’s a duck master?”
“Says here that the duckmaster for some fancy hotel would train the ducks, when to go in the Lakes, where to walk around for the guests, that sort of thing,” he shrugged.
“Are you really that desperate for a job?” he laughed, looking around before leaning back into the colourful cushions behind him.
James sighed, folding up and setting the paper aside, “I mean kind of. Lily and I decided to stay in Paris for a bit longer now and I feel bad sitting at home all day doing nothing. She's also worried I’m going a bit stir crazy, which is valid but I don’t actually know what I want to do.”
“Well did you go to school? Have you got a degree in anything?” he questioned. “I went for History but I just went because my parents wanted me to.”
James wasn’t sure what to say. Technically, he had qualifications—he’d taken his OWLs and NEWTs, which in the Wizarding World would make him more than qualified for most jobs but here, in this world, he had nothing. Still, he didn’t want to seem inadequate in front of Marc, who had just mentioned his own degree. James wanted to sound somewhat accomplished, even though he knew their worlds measured success differently,
“Yeah I’ve got one in er…chemistry,” he decided on, thinking that was close enough to Potions.
Marc’s eyebrows climbed up his forehead, “What are you doing looking at being a duckmaster , you could do anything with that degree, be a scientist or something- make loads of money as well.”
Okay maybe James had overshot that one a bit, “Yeah but I never liked it, I just did it for my parents too,” he laughed awkwardly.
The other boy nodded understandingly and began staring out the window to the dreary day beyond only to shoot back up a moment later, “Why don’t you work here ,” he asked excitedly, eyes wide.
James just about laughed in his face, “I mean I’d love to but you can’t be serious-.”
“No no I’m serious, you should work with me. You’re here all the time anyways, which is a good thing of course, and I could use the help especially during rush hours when the lines out the door. It would be amazing.”
He looked so excited that James didn’t want to break his heart but the idea of him working here was absurd, laughable even. He didn’t know the first thing about making drinks which only paled in comparison to the fact that Regulus would be his boss.
But Marc continued to look at him so hopefully and well…James did love the cafe and it was an easy way to get a job and get out of the house. Additionally, he could take the morning shifts while Lily stayed at home with Harry until they switched which was perfect since Lily tutors kids in the evenings after their days at school.
And before he could think better of it he said, “Okay.”
“Yes,” Marc grinned, reaching over to clap him on the shoulder. “Okay well let’s do your interview right now.”
“What? Now? I haven’t even-.”
He was cut off by Marc straightening his back and deepening his voice, “Name?”
James couldn’t think fast enough so he automatically answered, “James Shafiq.”
“Age?”
“22.”
“Have you killed anyone or committed any other sort of egregious crime?”
“Of course not.”
“Do you have an upbeat go-getter sort of attitude?”
“I suppose so?”
“Consider this question- how many owls would you have to see in one day before you start getting suspicious?”
James blanked before his mind ran through the numbers and possibilities, “I suppose three would be interesting, four would lean towards a bit sinister.”
“Correct, okay you got the job, you start tomorrow,” he winked happily, pleased with himself.
“I can’t tell if you’re joking- are you even allowed to hire me just like that? You haven’t even consulted with your boss who probably hates me.”
“Nah, I’m the manager which means hiring someone is technically under my jurisdiction, I just haven’t done it yet and my boss doesn’t hate you. He actually thinks you’re quite fit but I’m technically not supposed to tell you that.”
James’ jaw couldn’t possibly drop any lower than it already was and as if the temperature in the cafe increased, he took a big gulp of his iced coffee to cool down.
He felt the same sort of anticipation he did before a big quidditch match against Slytherin and coincidentally, he’d be seeing Regulus too but instead of fighting over a Snitch and points, they’d be battling over mugs and spilled beans.
Though he supposed there was an advantage to all of this- he’d get to know more about Regulus and dig deeper into whatever his story was now that they’d be in closer proximity much more often.
He always was good at breaking Regulus down and getting into the nitty gritty of things.
____________
“I’ve got a job!” he shouted out as he walked into the flat.
Lily ran round the corner from her room, “No,” she gasped. “How? I didn’t even know you were looking.”
“Well I went down to the Cafe as I usually do and Marc offered me a job there! I start tomorrow,” he laughed, only just starting to feel excited about it now that the initial shock had worn off.
“Oh that’s amazing,” she sighed happily.
He explained to her how their schedule would work after he’d clarified with Marc and everything would work out quite nicely for their small family of three.
He never thought he’d get a job, aside from being an Auror slash being in the Order but now he was getting an insight into real life as well and surprisingly, he didn’t mind it. Of course, he was speaking from a position of privilege, since he actually didn’t even need to work for the pay, just for the experience and the fun of it.
“Well I say we go out to dinner to celebrate,” she nodded and already turned back to her room to start getting ready despite the fact that they had hours left until then but still, a happy energy finally permeated their flat, a feeling of hope and liveliness that hadn’t been there for quite some time.
He spent the entirety of dinner thinking about everything Evan had said as well as what his job with Regulus might look like in between making jokes with Lily and feeding Harry mashed potatoes. It was a bit disconcerting to finally have so much to focus on when there had just been a long gap of absolutely nothing and he was thrilled.
They got ice cream afterwards- Lily picking honey lavender, Harry going with a classic chocolate, and James got a heaping scoop of cookies n’ cream with hot fudge on top that was so good he had to physically restrain himself from moaning with each bite.
“Are you literally orgasming over there or what?” Lily laughed at him after his second bite.
“It’s just so good,” he laughed and continued eating.
They strolled along the Seine, pushing Harry in his pram as they spoke idly about random topics.
“What do you think they’re up to right now ?” Lily asked as she tapped her spoon against her lips thoughtfully and James immediately caught on to who she was speaking about.
“Hmm, I’d say Remus is laying in bed as the full was yesterday,” he replied and Lily nodded at that as that was clearly obvious.
“Sirius is probably waiting by his bedside in a little maid’s outfit,” she suggested and they both devolved into laughter at that, imagining that view made all the funnier by the fact that, knowing them, it was a genuine possibility.
“How do you think they’ll react when they find out we’ve been here all this time?” she quiered as she gazed out at the water, her hair a blazing beacon under the lamplight.
That was another tough question but all he said was, “Well I doubt we’d be able to make up for it in just a maid’s outfit.”
They went home soon after and James went right to bed- tomorrow was his first day at work after all.