One
James
James Potter is completely and utterly fine, thank you very much for asking. So maybe he’s put his phone on ‘Do Not Disturb’ and spent the entire day laying in his bed and doing absolutely fuck all, but only because he deserves a rest! James is simply giving himself a self-care day. He may have given himself a lot of those recently, but self-care is important! And so what if his coursework deadline is creeping ever closer, and he’s told his friends and family that the only reason he’s not left the flat in days is because he’s busy with completing his essay and is not to be disturbed. James is simply doing what he needs to do and it’s all fine.
James knows he’ll get the work done eventually, he always does. As long as you don’t count all those essays and readings he’s not bothered doing. Fine, he’ll rephrase the statement, he always gets the work done when it matters, when it actually counts for something. And this piece of work does, so future-James will take care of it. Good old future James, that guy has got a lot on his plate.
Present James, however, groans quietly as his stomach gives a loud and slightly sickening rumble. He’s not sure when he last ate, but it was a while ago judging by the gaping feeling he currently has in his stomach. The crumby plate on his bedroom floor is the only evidence that he does actually, occasionally feed himself, thank you very much. Now that he’s come to think of it, James also has a very dry mouth and fuck, he really needs a piss.
After popping to the loo, James spends a very long few minutes examining his face in the bathroom mirror. The purple rings under his eyes and tousled hair really add to the corpse-chic aesthetic he seems to have going on, the sweaty t-shirt plastered to his back pulling the look together perfectly. Suitably dissatisfied with his appearance, James quickly runs his hands under the tap before making his way to the flat’s shared kitchen. A couple of glasses of water, straight down the hatch, followed by two tortilla wraps containing grated cheese and a fuckton of mayonnaise. This could, quite possibly, be James’ idea of heaven.
It’s only once he’s nestled back into bed that James decides to check his messages, see what notifications he’s missed. There’s all the usual, a load of pointless snaps, a couple of follow requests on insta. But what really gets James’ attention is the text from Sirius: “YOUUU#VE BEEN COOOPED UP IN U R ROOM TO LONG PRONGSS!! WERE GOING OUT!!!”
James smiles to himself slightly, perhaps leaving his bed for the sole purpose of getting drunk wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all. He shoots Sirius a quick reply and confirms the arrangements for tonight before rolling himself out of bed and into the shower.
Half an hour later, and James is answering the door with a smile so bright it would put the Sun to shame.
“Prongsie!!” Sirius exclaims happily as he wrestles James into a hug, “ready to get going old chap?” James smiles and returns Sirius’ greeting with a matching level of enthusiasm, he can do that because he’s completely fine.
They walk together to the Leaky, a local pub where their friend group is set to gather. They chat and laugh on the way there and James decides that he’s going to have good night, the smile on his face feels a little more natural by the time they reach the pub, like it’s taking a little less effort to maintain.
As he and Sirius enter the pub, they find that Remus and Peter have already claimed a large table by the window and are currently sitting with Lily, Mary and Marlene, the latter of who has brought along a girl James doesn’t recognise. The girl has flawless dark skin and braided hair with intricate silver trinkets woven throughout. Marlene introduces her as Dorcas Meadowes, her date (they’re not quite at girlfriend level yet).
Once the first round is in and everyone is settled around the table, James is feeling positive about the night ahead of him. The pint in front of him giving him a much needed confidence boost.
“So,” he begins, palms planted firmly on the table, “what’s the plan for tonight?”
Mary, who is sat opposite him, puts down her disaronno and coke before replying,
“Well we’re pre-ing here first, obviously, and then we were gunna move onto Nox if you’re agreeable?”
James agrees amiably, him and Mary beginning to swap stories about the bougie nightclub on the outskirts of town. Nox is exclusive and costs a pretty penny, but since most of the group met at private school, it isn’t a problem for their high-ranking old money families. As they chat, James can feel the busy atmosphere of the pub pressing in on him from all sides. His senses feel clogged and his brain seems to buffer on the overwhelming influx of stimulation.
Eventually, Mary goes to the bar with Lily to get the next round in and James utilises the opportunity to nip out for a smoke. He knows he should really quit the unhealthy habit, but he finds it calming more than anything. The bitter taste grounds him and he loves having an excuse to take a moment just for himself, alone with the cold night air.
He loves the buzzing atmosphere of the Leaky, he really does, and the lively company of his brilliant friends. He loves it all but sometimes it all gets a little too much.
Out here is quiet, the night air cool and soothing against his flushed skin as he lights a cigarette and lifts it to his lips. A quiet buzz drifts from the windows behind him, but the streets are dead at this time. He likes having the knowledge that if he wanted to he could just run, he could grab a bottle of firewhisky, find an empty park somewhere and drink himself into oblivion. Simply blackout until the morning finds him in a bush somewhere, free and unshackled from his mind for a few hours. He won’t do that tonight. But it’s nice to know he has the option.
Stubbing out his smoke on a nearby ashtray, James gives his shoulders a small shake. He still feels slightly bothered and overwhelmed, but if he stays out here for too long his friends will start to worry and come looking for him. So James steps back inside and arms himself with a bright smile. He’s ready to perform. He’s James Potter after all, and he’s completely and utterly fine.
~
By the time the group reached Nox, James is comfortably tipsy. His head feels light and fuzzy but he can still focus on what he needs to. It’s nice for his brain to be quiet, it rarely is. This state of inebriation allows him a peace he doesn’t usually get to experience, he likes it much more than sobriety.
Sirius and Remus claim their usual booth in the club and James and Dorcas grab drinks from the bar as Peter hits the dancefloor with the girls.
James looks over to Dorcas and sees her gently smiling to herself as she watches Marlene on the dancefloor, head thrown back and hands in the air.
“Things are going well with you two then?” he asks gently. Although today is the first time he’s met Dorcas, James already likes her a lot and he can see that her relationship with Marlene, while still early days, is shaping up to be something special.
“She’s amazing,” Dorcas beams, barely able to tear her eyes away from the dancefloor as she turns to James.
It makes something tug at James’ chest, seeing them happy like that. Of course James is over the moon for his friend, but a little bitter jealous part of him wonders why he can’t have that, what makes him so unworthy of that kind of happiness. James hates that part of himself.
As ‘Pink Pony Club’ begins blasting from the speakers (James has no doubt in his mind that Marlene bribed the DJ to play it), Marlene rushes over and grabs Dorcas’ arm, dragging her onto the dancefloor. Dorcas shoots James an apologetic look over shoulder before following her not-girlfriend onto the dancefloor.
As much as James loves Chappell Roan, he doesn’t quite feel in the mood for dancing right now. He begins to walk towards their booth but quickly sees that Sirius and Remus are already occupied (James thinks he could’ve done with being a bit more drunk before seeing his two best friends with their tongues in each other’s mouths). Quickly changing route, James decides he may as well make a trip to the smoking area.
For such a glamorous nightclub, Nox’s tiny outside area is pretty dingy. Still, James settles himself against the wall next to a large wheelie bin and tries his best to ignore the smell of rotting rubbish as he roots around in his pockets for a pack of cigs. He finally fishes one out and sets it between his teeth as he begins a search for his lighter.
“I didn’t know you smoked.”
James freezes at the blood-curdlingly familiar drawl. He slowly raises his head and there, staring at him from the shadows, is Regulus mother-fucking Black.