In every universe, James Potter and Sirius Black find each other.
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“Oi Prongs, stop running!” Sirius called a few meters behind.
“Is it because you can’t keep up, Pads?” James answered, speeding in Hogwarts’ corridors.
“You wish!” And with that, Sirius ran faster, a growing laughter following him every step.
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If you were walking around the park, you would have seen a boy kneeling on the ground wiping the tears of a girl sitting on the swing.
If you were to listen, you would have heard the girl crying, “She loves me.”
At that point the boy would be pleading, “Maybe darling, but not in the way you deserve.”
And the girl, as stubborn and determined as they come, would take a deep breath and through the tears declare, “She will.”
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In some forest, a deer and a big, black stray dog looked at each other for a long time. Without reason, the stray dog followed the deer into the woods. What a peculiar couple.
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Two girls were in school, taking notes on some scientific topic they both found way too easy. The teacher was explaining something particularly boring, when all of a sudden one of the girls leaned over, putting down her pen and picking up a pencil instead, and wrote some lyrics from the song that in that moment was playing in her head. The other girl shook her head and rolled her eyes, though a fond smile could be found on her lips - she had stopped arguing about her friend writing on her schoolbooks a couple years prior, realising it was no use, and instead compromising on her only using pencil - as she wrote the following ones. And on they went.
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“I believe it is none of your business” a famous football player said to a particularly rude interviewer asking a far too intimate question about his best friend.
Said best friend was at home, watching all of it. They thanked every divinity they could think of, and immediately sent a text.
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“Why don’t my parents love me? What have I done to be such a disappointment?” the boy in his arms cried.
I don’t know, he thought. He did not say it though. He just held the boy tighter, planning on never letting go.
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October 31st, 1981. James Fleamont Potter, dead at 21. And with that, Sirius’ whole world fell apart.
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The boy had seen the signs from the very beginning. He had decided to let his friend be, they were young, after all. Secretly, he hoped she would’ve understood on her own. He was sick and tired of risking to end their friendship everyday for this bullshit, so he just said nothing. There isn’t a day he wakes up and doesn’t regret it.
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The dog and the deer had protected each other for years, soon finding out that an angry dog is way scarier than a scared deer.
That’s why, when the stray dog was forced to watch as hunters shot the deer right through its heart, it somehow knew it would not survive long afterwards.
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“On this day 3 years ago…” her phone displayed. Once she paid it some more attention, she felt her heart sink somewhere deep and dark and unreachable. There it was, the picture that once was her favorite of all time; it had been her profile picture, her wallpaper — she had had it framed and used to have it displayed in the hallway, for everyone to see. Now, her whole body ached just looking at it. The picture was one of her kissing her best friend’s cheek while she had her eyes closed and a bid smile painted her lips. She could still remember that day; the happiness, the laughter, the love — some she could only feel with her best friend. Too bad she wasn't her best friend anymore. The girl never wrote on anyone’s schoolbooks again.
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Like every other day they were at the hospital. Only this wasn’t like every other day. Apparently their best friend had decided — and such a long time ago, too — that they were the ones that had to make the decision on whether or not to pull the plug in case something like this would happen. And now that their friend had had a terrible accident during a game, falling into a soma shortly after, they were forced to make it. Thing is, they couldn’t. He so desperately wanted to be selfish and keep him alive, but deep down they knew both of them would only suffer more.
So they cried. They told the doctors to end the suffering of their friend. They cried some more. They spent the rest of their lives crying, actually.
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“Do you think it’s my fault that he killed himself?” the boy asked no-one in particular. It was still very difficult to say that last part out loud, but his therapist said he should force himself to, as a way of accepting the fact.
“You did everything you could to save him, my dear. It is not your fault” his mum repeated for the millionth time, while stroking his hair and wiping his tears.
“But that’s what I was supposed to do” the boy whispered.
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In every universe, James Potter and Sirius Black find each other. And, in every universe, it doesn’t end well.