Constellations

"Oh, what are you smiling about, James?" Lily asks with a laugh.

"Ha!" Mary points at him with a loud bark of laughter. She always loses sense of her volume after a couple of beers. "Look at yourself. You're blushing and everything. Where'd you come from, loverboy?"

"Ooh," Marlene joins in, appearing by Mary's side, holding, miraculously, five drinks in her hands. Handing them out, she goes, "Go on and tell us why you dared to show up late to the party. Your reason better be good, or we'll assume you've grown tired of us - or worse, that you're growing up."

"Oh, he's about to become a right adult, Marls. Planning to settle down. A house and kids and all that," says Sirius, very helpfully. James looks down and bites his lip, still struggling to hide a grin.

Mary perks up. "Someone special, James?"

"Go on and tell us," Marlene presses.

"If you'd all just shut up and let me talk," James says to the floorboards. They've all gathered around him in the hallway of Pete's appartement. His place is the biggest, and therefore the designated party location. If people thought they'd stop partying after high-school, they were severely wrong. Whenever there's an excuse, pete pulls out the decorations. Today James thinks they're celebrating Mary's new boots. Yes, the excuses to throw a party have become quite creative. "I was at work," he admits.

After a beat, Marlene says, "Well, that was disappointing."

James shrugs and takes a sip out of his mug. "Well, nothing to do about that. Say, Mary, why don't you show me those new boots of yours. I'm afraid I'm stealing your thunder."

"No no no, we're not letting you off this easily." Lily squints her eyes at him.

"The boots can wait," Mary adds.

"Your work ends at ten," Lily continues. "And it's almost one in the morning at this point."

James grimaces. He's always been bad at lying. "I..." he looks over at Sirius for help, but he's just staring back at him with a bemused look on his face. "I might've stayed a little late to help out a guest."

"Oh, now it's starting to get interesting," says Marlene, sipping her drink.

They're all still staring at him expectantly. He sighs. "Just this guest that's been hanging around after closing time so he can use the piano in the restaurant. He doesn’t have a piano at home, that's why. And I don't mind the free concerts either."

"You also don't mind his good looks," adds Sirius.

James feels his face heat up, and he hears the girls burst out into laughter.

"That's so cute!" Lily says. "You have to bring him sometime."

"Soon," Marlene agrees.

"Lils, Marls, calm down," goes Mary, "Let's wait until they’re official first."

James groans. "See that's why I didn't want to tell you guys. I knew you would get my hopes up. I don't even know if he's interested. He's there for the piano, after all. Not for me."

"But you like him, right?" Lily asks, eagerly.

"He's very... interesting. He's so mysterious, you know. He says something and it feels like there's some deep, underlying meaning behind it. But he'd never say. It's so frustrating. He's very fun to talk to, though. I can tell he loves an argument, which is very entertaining. And besides, he's just... very pretty." James thinks of Leo's lazy grey eyes, the sharp angles of his face - his nose, his cheekbones, his jaw - and the shiny black waves of his hair.

After James' rant, the crowd surrounding him stares at him, seemingly holding back a unanimous laugh.

Then Mary goes, "That's a yes." And everyone bursts out laughing.

Sirius pats him on the shoulder. "Have some faith, mate. No one can resist that James Potter charm, not even the cold hearted."

Pete's head peeks around the corner. He lifts his glass at James in salutation. "Oi, the party's in here, guys. And we're gonna start cutting the cake now. I promise you do not want to miss this."

Like that, Pete disappears into the living room, and James' interrogators, now satisfied, follow along.

They eat the cake Pete baked, in the shape of a boot, or so Pete tells them. It looks more like a red hockeystick to James, but he keeps that to himself.

He sips his beer, still smiling a little. Leo has been showing up every Tuesday and Friday for the past three weeks. They don't talk much. Leo shows up, goes straight for the piano, James makes him tea (with cinnamon), and Leo only remembers the tea when it's convenient for him - when James asks him a question a little too personal. Though, for leo, things can get 'a little too personal' very quick.

"How long've you been playing the piano?" James had asked one Friday night. It had been a long day at work. He rested his head on the back of his chair and let the music carry him. It was soothing - calming. Just what he needed.

Leo scratched his throat. "What do you mean?"

"I mean it's obvious you've been doing this for a while. You think all those compliments I've given you were lies? Trust me, I would've been in the kitchen if you were bad. So how long?"

"I started when I was fifteen." Leo didn't stop playing, but he kept repeating the same melody.

James lifted his head. Leo was faced away from him, staring into nothing.

James had to tread carefully. "Why did you pick up the hobby?"

"My parents wanted me to. But I didn't exactly mind. It helped me keep the memory of my brother alive." He stopped playing, his hands still resting on the piano keys. James' eyes traced the profile of Leo's face. His jawline seemed even sharper than usual because he was clenching his jaw. "My brother used to play. When he couldn’t anymore, I filled in his footsteps."

"Did he..." James hesitated.

But then Leo turned to look at him, his eyes cold. His voice was frighteningly emotionless as he finished James' sentence, "Die?"

James gave a small nod.

The piano stole Leo's focus once more as he absentmindedly started tracing the keys with his delicate fingers. "Yes."

"I'm sorry." James wasn't sure if he'd found the right thing to say. He remembered after his grandfather passing away, anything anyone told him made him feel as if they didn't understand. How could they speak so casually about such tragedy? He felt as if the only right way to talk about his grandfather was to yell and scream and cry in pain and suffering. But he couldn't do that, could he? So he focused on the good things in life - smiling in grief. He hadn't been able to talk about his grandfather for years.

Grief is a very personal thing, James has come to realise. It's different for everyone.

For Leo, grief comes in the shape of anger, is what James guessed as Leo laughed a mean laugh. "Don't be," he responded harshly.

Sometimes it's easier to be angry, or happy, than to be sad, James supposed.

He waited until Leo's eyes had softened a bit to ask, "Why'd you stop playing?"

Leo was quiet for a while. James was afraid that Leo wasn't going to answer him at all, but at last Leo whispered, "The tea's getting cold."

~~~~~~~~

Next Tuesday is when James discovers he indeed got his hopes up. James stays until later than he usually would, waiting, late enough to be pathetic, but Leo doesn't show up. James should've taken Leo's closed off nature as a sign. Obviously he's not interested.

Then the worry arrives. What if something happened? Is he okay? What if he got into an accident, or something else - something worse?

What if James never finds out?