Chapter 1
Remember when you were young?
You shone like the sun
The windchimes hung by the window, and worked like an interdependent instrument for the wind to brush its fingers between; the rotted bamboo sticks abraded by its touch over time in favor of contributing to its melody. It also worked like a tranquil alarm clock, waking James up every morning at around half past five. The chimes were decorated with seashells and shaded glass pearls, handcrafted by his mother as a going away present before his first year at school. It reflected the bright morning sun through the glasses he had laid on his bedside table the night before, casting rays of colorful light across his eyes, and temporarily making him see the sky painted in a million different shades.
“James?”
“Yeah?”
“The curtain.” Sirius' voice was hoarse from sleep and muffled by a pillow. On top of that he was talking quietly enough to not wake up their other two dormmates, but they’d had this conversation a million times before; James knew what was expected of him. Still, he found it particularly hard to tear his eyes from a streak of blue light on the ceiling. It was swaying - undoubtedly along with the wind - It kind of reminded him of a wave.
“Draw it yourself,” he said eventually
Sirius grunted, and James could hear him turn around in bed. “Can’t,” he murmured, “If I open my eyes I’m blinded.”
“Lazy sod,” James chuckled, defeated.
He teared his eyes away from the ceiling and took in the almost dreamlike state of their dorm room; opening and closing his eyes again and again, finding it funny how the lights seemed to get brighter with every blink - that is until he became unsure whether or not his eyes were still open. Then he decided to get up.
Despite his apparent dislike of the lights, Sirius looked peaceful in his bed and very much asleep, when James walked over. He was lying on his stomach with his long hair draped over his pillow, but James drew the curtain anyway before getting dressed.
It was still a bit cold outside, but nothing like the past months. James felt the chill breeze as he stepped out the castle's front door, and regretted for a moment his decision to wear a short sleeved t-shirt. But he knew it would turn to his favor as soon as he started running. Then his mind would go blank and his senses take over. Running was a way for him to clear his head before starting the day; essentially like a cup of coffee. Well, he didn’t drink coffee, but he had always been running.
A gust of wind blew through his hair, and he let his legs take over, breathing in deep. He could smell the remnants of the rain that the earth had absorbed day after day, and he turned his head to look at the sun rise over the mountains, and the freshly bloomed flowers greeting it, thankful for a clear sky; the rain being their common enemy, as if they didn’t utilize its strength.
Scotland was truly beautiful. He forgot sometimes to appreciate it, as he was locked up in a classroom or messing about with his mates; forever caught in his own head, whether it was to figure out a particularly tricky spell or constantly thinking about what would be the funnier thing to say. As this thought made its way through his head, he realized how easy it was to just forget about. This morning he felt high. As in, he felt as if he was on euphoric drugs or something. He was thinking about how he could hear the birds wake from their rainy-day hibernation, and the fish in the lake visiting the surface for a glimpse of the sun, when he was suddenly caught out of his trance, by a completely different sound: a soft sound of an acoustic guitar.
Turning his head around, he looked to where the sound was coming from, and was surprised to see Regulus Black, Sirius’ younger brother, sitting by the lake with a guitar in his lap. But his surprise quickly subsided as the melody began filling his head, sort of like when you shower and get water in your ears, and all but the sound of the stream hitting your wet body and the tiled floor cease to be a part of your perception of reality. All he heard was the song - and it was beautiful. James couldn't tear his eyes away.
Regulus was leaned up against a wall to the castle with his eyes closed and head tilted upwards, as he played the guitar with ease. He was too far away for James to hear, but he was certain Regulus was even humming along to the melody; that was how peaceful he looked. James felt peaceful too, he thought to himself. This melody somehow sounded like the morning he had had. It sounded as if it was written by mother earth herself. Like the sun shaking hands with the rain after months of animosity. Like the-
“Oh shit!” Once again he was caught out of his trance, this time because he had been stupid enough to not look where he was going and trip over the root of a tree.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
James looked up from where he was sprawled on the forest floor, and straight into the ice-blue eyes of one Regulus Black. Suddenly he was stunned.
“Uhh,” he started, “running?”
Regulus looked at him with raised eyebrows and such an annoyed look on his face, James wouldn’t be surprised if his eyes started twitching. “Right,” he nodded before continuing, “you know, most people find running much easier when in a vertical position, but you have always had a way of wanting to stick out of the masses i guess…”
Straight for the throat then. Classic Regulus Black. “I just fell,” James said.
“Well, what did you do that for?”
It was then James realized that he was in fact still laying on the ground, and he quickly jumped up, embarrassed. He giggled awkwardly and rubbed his neck, “it wasn’t on purpose…”
Regulus narrowed his eyes at him. “Right,” he said again.
Now that James stood up, he was far taller than Regulus, but he kept looking at him, and somehow it made James a little nervous. He had always been like this, Regulus Black: all intimidating eyes and cold expressions. Usually though, James didn’t fall for it; he was Sirius’ younger brother, and even though he was now set to follow the path their parents had initially created for Sirius, ever since he had run off, James was sure a lot of it was just an act. Besides, Regulus really wasn’t as scary as he thought he was.
As a matter of fact, James now knew that Regulus had a soft side, he thought to himself, remembering what scene he had just been witness to, before he was caught in his stupidity, and looking over Regulus' shoulder, James spotted the guitar laying on the grass. Beside it was what looked like a tin of biscuits, and he felt himself smiling - a real smile this time.
Regulus must have noticed his change of demeanor, because he blinked up at him and raised his eyebrows with so much force it was like a threat. It made James chuckle. “Well, get lost then,” Regulus said, while motioning with his hands for James to get a move on.
“I liked your song, you know.”
A pause. Then, “what?”
“The little guitar thing you did, I liked it,” James grinned. He watched as Regulus' shoulders tensed, and his cheeks turned a little less pale than usual. Some would call it blushing. James knew Regulus was actually fuming.
“Fuck off, Potter,” he spat before turning on his heel and picking up the guitar from the ground on his way. To where James didn’t know, but he was out of his sight in seconds.
“Sirius you will never believe who I-”
“Oi! James, who do you think is the better guitarist, Robby Krieger or Pete Townshend?” Sirius pointed a piece of toast at him as James went to sit down at the breakfast table, expectantly waiting for an answer.
"It's obviously Townshend!” Remus answered for him, frustratingly raising one hand to his forehead and waving a cup of coffee in the other, dangerously close to Peter, who was sitting a great distance away from Remus and looking up at the cup of coffee like it was a wasp flying too close for his liking.
This seemed to be a discussion that had been going on for a while. “Speaking of guitarists-” James started, but was interrupted again.
“Did you know,” Remus began matter of factly, sitting his coffee down and leaning forward in his seat, gaze still locked on Sirius, “Robby Krieger had only been playing the guitar for a couple of months, when The Doors released their debut album?”
Sirius looked back at him intently, like that was the most interesting thing he’d ever heard. “Wait really?” He said, the toast now hanging loosely from his fingers, and before he inevitably dropped it, James grabbed it and took a bite. Sirius turned to him then and shrugged. “I guess that just proves my point; he’s talented.”
“Don’t look at me mate, I have no idea who you’re talking about.”
“That’s not proving your point!” Remus objected, fully ignoring James, “that’s saying that Krieger lacks technique.”
“Oh he lacks technique!” Sirius laughed, “tell that to the millions of guitars Townshends has smashed on purpose!”
“How are those two things even connected!?”
“How are those two things even connected,” Sirius mimicked in a high pitched voice, and as Remus rolled his eyes, James and Peter looked at each other and immediately fell off the bench laughing.
Between going to classes - and listening to his two dormmates bicker in class, which ultimately ended with all three of them getting detention (James having laughed a little too loud after Sirius had called Remus a ‘pompous Lester Bangs wannabe’), James quickly forgot about the encounter he’d had with Regulus that morning.
Later that night, when they’d all returned to their dorm, Remus put on an album to listen to while doing his homework, and it wasn’t until And I Love Her by The Beatles was filling the room, that James started thinking back to his morning; the way John Lennon and Paul McCartney’s voice echoed through the air gave him once again the impression that he was standing under water.
From the bed on the other side of the room, Sirius was humming along to the melody, and for a split second, James thought it was Regulus' voice.
He blinked up at the ceiling.
“Sirius?”
“Yes?”
James pictured Regulus; his piercing eyes looking at him like a raging sea, and he fixed his gaze on the windchimes hanging by the window; swinging back and forth, back and forth, making the peaceful melody he was so used to, and he imagined they were seaweed standing at the bottom of that ocean, alone and unaware of the storm that was approaching right above them. Even when it did, they’d still be dancing along with the current like they always had; still unaware and still alone.
As James’ eyes fell shut, he thought of Regulus and the bottom of the ocean, and how wonderful of a place it must be to be.
“Goodnight.”