Its okay Minnie, Its okay Effie
“Are you afraid of dying?”
They are sitting in the moonlight. Remus is recovering from the night before in the hospital wing. Sirius is stressing. Pulling James from his bed to sit with him on the window sill.
Are you afraid of dying?
Sirius has never asked that before. But James knows his answer. He’s known it since… Ever. Since his father told him as a child “Stop crying”. Since he was first dragged out of his bed in first year to hold Sirius as he cried. Since his whole life was dedicated to being ‘the loud one’.
Are you afraid of dying?
No.
“Yes, of course, who wouldn't be?” He says instead. “Are you?”
“I'm afraid of dying without having lived, not the actual death itself.”
Sirius worries about a lot of things. Whether he should go back and save his brother. Whether he was right for leaving. Whether Moony still loves him after making a bad joke. Whether he's as cool as he wants to be. Big things and small things. But James is there through everything. Holding his hand and dragging him into his arms. James is there. Always. James is the stable part of his life. The rock. His rock.
James doesn't feel like that though. James feels nothing like a rock. On good days he feels like a branch on a windy day. He says good days like they are good, but his good days are just him barely scraping by. His bad days and his good days don't look too different. Because on both days he gets dressed, brushes his teeth, eats breakfast, goes to class and smiles. He smiles. He always smiles. But he can't remember the last time he properly smiled.
---
“Stop crying,”
Every parent is the same. No matter what. If you are as cruel as Walburga Black or as kind as Euphemia Potter. They are all the same. No parent has gone a life without saying those words.
Stop crying.
James did it. He was four, sitting on the chair at the island bench in the kitchen, playing with his stuffed lion when…
James' parents had always told him to clean up his toys, especially the messy ones. His paintbrushes never got cleaned though. James’ brain moved a thousand miles a minute. He never remembered that kind of stuff. Lulun, his tiny stuffed lion, had been walking across the table when James had accidentally let go of him for a second. The lion fell. When kings fall there is always someone to take their place. But no one could ever replace Lulun. The lion's mane was painted black and red, the lion's feet were painted green and orange, James’ face was painted in tears as he watched his mum scrub and scrub and scrub at the animal's fur. But the paint never came out. He was crying and crying.
“Stop crying,” Fleamont had said.
He’d gotten his wand off of the coffee table by the couch and tried to clean the lion from all the paint. But magic can't fix everything. Magic couldn't fix the way James felt like a burden in that moment. His parents had told him to clean it up. They had warned him. And he cried. How dare he cry when it was all his fault anyway. He swore from that moment onward to be more stoic. To not cry when it was all his fault anyway.
---
It was a dream. A dream. A dream. He kept saying it over and over and over in his head but that didn't stop it from feeling any less real. His hands clenched the sheets of his bed. His head was pounding. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe. In. Out. In. Out. again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and
No one had heard him when he gasped. Taking a deep deep breath in. Letting the oxygen get to his head. No one had heard him open his curtains. Or walk to the door of the dorm. No one had heard him walk down the steps. Or walk through the common room. No one had heard him walk out of the castle and toward the lake. No one had heard him stand there in the water for a few minutes. He never told anyone but he hoped that in that moment the lake would be cold enough to trap him there, shivering and freezing until he passed out from the cold and drowned in the water. Letting the water fill up his lungs. If he wanted to go anyway this is how he'd want to die. But the lake didn't freeze up. Instead, the moonlight reflected onto the surface of the water and reminded him to look up at it. In the sky, he saw stars. He saw the moon. The moon said.
We need you, James
The brightest star said
I need you, James
That's right. Moony needed James. Sirius needed James.
He’ll drown another night.
---
When James walks back up the stairs of the castle. He finds a cat. Not Filch's cat. A different one. It's dark and he can't see properly. But he needs it. So he picks up the cat in his arms and walks to a window. Settling on the window sill with the cat he cries. Silently so no one hears.
---
Minerva McGonagall had seen her fair share of troubled kids. The blacks were all troubled. All held up to standards they couldn't reach. The most troubled of them, Sirius. She had seen how very different he was from his family. How much further he had to reach to meet their standards. She was glad he had friends who would stick with him. She was glad he had James. She had seen her fair share of kids who pretended to be okay. Who put on a smile that wasn't genuine. She knew one when she saw one. She always tried to be extra nice to those kids. She smiled at them in the halls, and she hugged them when they looked like they needed it. But she could not be more shocked than she was right now.
She was in James’ arms as he cried. He was crying. She had never ever seen him cry. She had seen this boy grow up. She had seen him laugh. She had watched as he pined over Lily Evans. She had watched as he made jokes in class with his friends. She had watched him comfort Sirius after he ran away. She had watched him turn from a boy into a young man. She wouldn't say this for many students but she would call him a son.
Minerva had never had children of her own. But even though they weren't blood. He was her son. He was her child. And she didn't want to see him cry. The cat jumped from James’ arms and he let out a sob. Closing his eyes he let himself cry. A few minutes passed. Or maybe it was seconds but he opened his eyes when he heard footsteps. McGonagall was there in front of him.
“Minnie I'm sorry for being out of bed I-” McGonagall raised her hand to silence him.
“Let's get you to bed,” She said, putting her hand out for him to take. He was fatigued. The rows of nights he stayed up staring at the sky like it was a life force takes things from you. He could barely stand without tripping over his own feet. Minerva had thought it was just clumsiness but now she knew it was so much more than that.
As they walked together, James heard Minnie say something.
“Insomnia has this romantic way of making the moonlight feel like perfect company.”
He couldn't agree more. But his brain was fuzzy. He didn't hear what she said after.
“It isn't good company James, I hope you know that.”
She walked him up the steps to his dorm room. She walked him to his bed. She laid him down and pulled the cover over him.
“Get some sleep, James.”
As she tugged the curtains closed she could have sworn she heard him mumble.
“Goodnight Mum.”
Once she was out of the dorm, down the steps, out of the common room and in her own room. She broke down in tears.
---
James had gotten hit by a bludger in a quidditch game. Barely. It was nothing to cause long-term damage but it hurt. His shoulder had been lightly brushed by the flying ball. When he took off his quidditch gear after the game he could see a gash of blood. A graze. He took a towel and dabbed up the blood with water. It will scab in a few days. It's okay he didn't need bandages. He did . He didn't need any help. He did . I'm fine . No, you aren't.
---
A few days later all the boys were getting dressed and ready for a full day of classes. James’ shirt had kept rubbing against his cut. He'd become good at hiding his pain but early in the morning, he didn't think he would have to. Until he winced. When he winced, Remus had snapped his neck to look at him.
“What was that?”
“What was what?”
“You winced,”
“Yeah, it's nothing don't worry about it,” James grabbed his tie and walked toward the door shooting them all a smile. “I am starving, I'll meet you all down there for breakfast,” he said before closing the door. Before it shut he heard Sirius yell
“Don't eat all the French toast.”
He didn't. He didn't eat anything.
And none of them noticed.
---
He was trying. That's all that mattered right? Not the fact that his grades have slowly been declining. At the start of the year, he was passing every class. Now he was barely passing potions and astronomy. He failed his last two tests in herbology. He’s slowly failing. But during all of this, he is still a friend.
He helps Marlene with her hair as she frets over her date with Dorcas this weekend. He holds Sirius as he cries over the fact that his brother won't even look at him anymore. He makes Remus eat every morning, even though he's barely eating anything himself. He makes an effort to help the homesick first years.
The only time he’s worth something is when someone needs him.
But helping people won’t get them to help you. Frankly, he doesn't want help. He just wants it to end.
He wants it all to end and he wants to sleep. He wants to finally rest. He wants a break.
---
James was mad. James was hurt. James didn’t know what he was feeling. He didn’t know what was wrong but he tried to calm down. He couldn’t. He stormed into the bathroom and faced the mirror.
In the mirror, he saw a ghost. A ghost of who he used to be. He wishes he could go back to who he used to be. He wishes he could be that young boy again. The one who didn’t have to help everyone.
Why did he have to help them all? Why him? Why? James would gladly be there for all of them. But what about him? What about me? Am I not good enough for them to care about? Are they too busy focusing on themselves to help?
Selfish
James wishes he could be like that. Selfish enough to take care of himself. But the only way he thinks he could be selfish is…
---
Euphemia always said suicide is selfish. Suicide forces all the people around you to feel the worst emotions. Suicide forces people you love into dark places. Suicide is selfish.
James wants to be selfish. Just once.
He stands in the lake again. The moon is barely visible and Sirius’ star is hidden by a cloud. Nothing can stop him now.
He wants to dunk his head in the water. Or go deep enough that the cold stops him moving and drowns him.
Peter stops him this time.
Not Peter. But James remembers his childhood. James remembers Peter. Who’s going to protect that little boy? The one who was too small to protect himself. The water feels colder now that he isn’t in it.
James is angry. James is hurt. James throws his hand at a tree. He kicks it, he punches it. He yells. His yell is full of pain. His yell is short-lived when a sob breaks through his body.
Help me
No one does
---
The next day he’s got split knuckles. Dried blood is on his bed sheets. Peter takes his hand and cleans the wound. He’s humming as he does it. He distracts James from the pain. His care is only momentary. James wishes for more.
---
James is dead within the week.
On Monday Sirius had dragged James out of bed. James had held him. James had comforted him. James had struggled not to fall apart.
On Tuesday he did Marlene’s hair again. She didn’t even thank him for it.
On Wednesday he went to the lake again. He didn’t die then. The moon and stars were in the sky.
On Thursday he wanted to go back to the lake but Sirius had dragged him to a window sill and cried in his arms.
On Friday the thing that stopped him from going to the lake was Minnie. She had been awake. Roaming the castle. And had caught him as he walked down a flight of stairs. “To bed with you mister Potter.”
On Saturday Sirius had crawled into bed with James. That was the last time they ever saw each other. This time the clouds were too thick for the moon and stars to stop him.
---
James Fleamont Potter died in the black lake at Hogwarts on the 23rd of August 1977.
The Gryffindor captain drowned himself in the lake at around 3 am that morning. His friends say he had never mentioned anything wrong with his mental health prior to his death. The Gryffindor Head of House, Minerva McGonagall, refused to make a statement. This tragedy has struck the school's core as students mourn the loss of their peer. The funeral will be held next Friday in the great hall.
On the 23rd of August at 9:00 pm, Sirius pushes off his bed sheets, rips open his curtains and walks to James’ bed. When he opens the curtains, the familiar shape of his best friend isn’t there. The tears don’t come. Not at first. It takes a few seconds, maybe minutes, of standing there before it happens. Sirius can remember just yesterday he was climbing into James’ bed and falling asleep in his arms. That was the night James died. James must have gotten out of bed, pulled the sheets up and tucked Sirius into bed before leaving the dorm and disappearing. Sirius doesn’t remember much of what happened after he woke up. He remembers waking up and James not being there. But James is always awake early so he didn’t worry. He remembers going down to breakfast with Moony and Wormtail. He remembers being stopped by Professor McGonagall outside the great hall. It looked like she had been crying, but she stood up tall. Her robes were that of perfection and poise. Sirius doesn’t remember much after that except for crying. Now he’s stood right where James left him and he only realises he’s crying when everything around him blurs. A sob wracks through his body and Peter is right at his side as he falls to the ground. They both are sobbing, wrapped up in each other's arms as they do. When Sirius can’t get any more tears out, Remus lifts him up off the floor and leads him to a bed. Not James’. He wouldn’t be able to sleep in James’ bed.
“Moony,” Sirius whispers. “If I had woken up before he left I could have stopped him.”
“I don’t think anyone would have been able to stop him, Padfoot.”
---
The funeral is on Friday. Sirius dresses in his black robes. He does his hair. He puts on concealer to hide the bags under his eyes. He places James’ glasses in his pockets and walks out the door holding Remus and Peter’s hands.
He sees Effie and Monty. Effie holds Monty in her arms as he cries silently. McGonagall is there sitting silently on a chair crying. You can’t see her tears, but you know they’re there. Regulus is also there. Sitting next to Pandora. He looks like he hasn’t gotten any sleep for days. As Sirius passed him he could have sworn he heard him say, “Dora, I cease to exist without him.” Sirius chooses to ignore it.
Only a select few people are allowed to go up to the casket. It’s open so you can look inside and see him. Lying there so still. Sirius thinks he can see his hand move but maybe it’s a trick of the light. What Sirius does see is that James isn’t wearing his glasses.
“Moony, James isn’t wearing his glasses.”
He feels around in his pockets frantically searching for James’ glasses.
“Where are his glasses?”
Tears are coming out now. He doesn’t notice. He just keeps searching.
“Remus, he can’t see without his glasses, he needs his glasses, give me his glasses!”
Remus holds him, restraining him as he moves around trying to find the glasses.
“Shh, it’s okay Sirius, it’s okay, I don’t have his glasses, he doesn’t need them.”
“He can’t see without his glasses.”
---
Sirius goes to the lake that night after the funeral. He looks at the stars. He looks at the moon. The constant reminders of why James had had enough.
“I wish I could do it, you know,” he hears behind him. It’s Regulus.
“Do what?”
“You know the stories we were told as children?”
Sirius nods
“Patroclus and Achilles was always my favourite,” Regulus continues.
Sirius stays quiet.
“James broke up with me in June.”
Sirius’ eyes widened. This is news to him.
“I haven’t been okay since, this just made it worse,” he breaks off in a sob. “I wish I could be as brave as Achilles and die with him.”
“James wouldn’t want you to do that.”
“I know, that’s why I don’t.”
They don’t speak anymore. They sit on the edge of the water in silence and stare across the water.
---
Euphemia is let into James’ dorm room to collect his things. She’s a stoic woman. She doesn’t cry.
She looks for a note. Somewhere in this room, there had to be a note right? A reason why he left her. Why did he leave her? Why? Why? Why?
---
Minerva McGonagall had four children. One of them is James. Was James. He’s still her son. He’s all around her. He’s the air. He’s the earth. He’s the fire. He is still here. He is still hers.
Her office seems cold. Dark. Empty. But she lights the fire and sits at her desk. Taking a deep breath in, she starts writing.
James,
I wish I had told you this sooner but I guess now is a better time than any. Do you remember that night I carried you up to bed? When I told you insomnia isn’t a friend. Part of me wishes you had heeded my warning but I know now it never would have meant anything.
Do you remember when you were eleven? You had just arrived at school. I remember you were sitting next to Peter, Sirius and Remus. I remember thinking that you’d be a delight to teach.
See, your mother was just graduating when I started working at Hogwarts. She was a great student, she had good grades. That moment I saw you I seemed to have forgotten who your father was. He was very different from your mother. He was a menace, always messing around in class and playing practical jokes on teachers. Yet he still was at the top of his class. You are very much a combination of both your parents, although you lean more toward your father with all of your pranks and jokes. You are very similar to your mother though.
You don’t know this but I had caught her out of bed multiple times that year when I first met her. Each night she would walk toward the lake and just stare up at the stars. Much like I saw you doing so many times. I saw her each night, by the lake. Part of me knew what was happening. Part of me didn’t believe it. She had tried to drown herself you know. Much like you. I saved her. I dragged her out of the lake. When she woke up, I told her that I wouldn’t tell anyone. I wouldn’t tell a soul if she just promised me she would tell me everything. And she did.
She told me of the nights when her best friend, Maggie White, had climbed into her bed and told her all her issues. Euphemia had said she felt like she was the friend who helped people but never got any help herself. I assume that’s how you felt. All of your friends put this burden on you to be fine. You never had any visible problems so they all latched onto you. They had a plethora of issues that they couldn't fix by themselves. You didn’t see a way out other than the lake.
I wish I could have done for you what I did for your mother. I wish I could have dragged you out of the water and you would have woken up. I was too late. I will forever blame myself for not saving you. I hope you have found peace. I hope you are happier. I will miss you, James.
Minerva McGonagall
Minnie
At midnight, after Minnie had sealed her letter and placed it at the bottom of her drawer, Euphemia knocked on her office door. Minerva opened the door and looked into the eyes of the young girl she once saved.
“It’s okay Effie, it’s okay.”
McGonagall opened her arms and held the woman until her tears had stopped. They fell asleep together, in a tangle of limbs on the floor or Minnie’s office. Tear stains on their faces.
---
Sirius was sitting near the lake. Years had passed since James’ death but it still felt like an open wound. His tears were minimal but his pain was great. He mumbled to himself as he stared out across the water.
“It’s okay, Sirius, it’s okay.”