Padfoot
February 2nd, 1768
"No! Absolutely not!”
“Listen-”
“You listen. This is madness!” Lily’s eyes were burning with the same flame as her wind-whipped hair, and it would have usually pained James to upset her this badly. However, his heart was still beating off-rhythm, and it made it hard to think clearly: the surprise had his hands shaking even after a few hours. What a way to make an entrance – the least you could expect from Sirius Black.
Even in the heat of an argument, James couldn’t help but smile a bit.
He had been just a schoolboy when he and Sirius had first crossed paths, in the same city where HMS Vespera was docked at right now – Havana, James’ true home. He liked to consider Sirius as one of his schoolmates, but that wasn’t really the truth. James had attended a private school for the Navy officers’ offspring – he had had a small room to share with Peter, for those days both his parents were at sea, while Sirius had been homeschooled by the best private tutors the world had to offer, away from other kids his age. They had met by accident, but Mary MacDonald had brought them together the first time.
*
They were heading to the safer parts of the forest: James, Peter, and Mary along with some classmates they had convinced to join in. It hadn’t taken much effort: their new game was simply irresistible.
“It’s like hide-and seek! And also tag,” Mary explained excitedly. She had climbed on a moss-covered stone, reciting the rules like she was a teacher, and the others were her disciples. "One of us is the Atlantis – that's me! – and you are the Explorers trying to find it. If you scream “green”, I need to answer with “light” no matter if I’m hiding or running. Okay?”
There were two ways to find the Atlantis: by sneaking to its hideout and jumping on it or with pure speed. James was prepared and had sneakily taken bigger steps on the way to the edge of the forest, just to warm up his muscles. Mary was brilliant at hiding. Outrunning her was his only chance to win.
“Any questions?” Mary asked, but before the last syllable had even fully left her mouth, she had dashed into the woods, stealing herself a couple extra seconds.
*
“A Black heir? On our ship?” Lily demanded, like the plain facts of the situation were too insane to even begin to comprehend. She had never met Sirius despite hearing endless stories about him. Her family was Danish, and she had walked into James’ life a couple years later, when Sirius had already returned to France. She shook her head. “What would you even tell Dumbledore?”
“He doesn’t need to know.” He continued before she had the chance to object. “Sirius needs our help. And what else is the Navy for? Than to aid those in need?”
“This is different!” Lily snapped. “I’m sorry, I really am, but we can’t help him this time.”
“Just because he’s a Black?”
"Precisely because he’s a Black! He’s obviously a spy!”
*
‘The Search for Atlantis’ got its inspiration from an old nursery rhyme James’ mother used to sing to him when he had trouble falling asleep – and sometimes just by herself, when she thought no one heard, like it was a secret hymn. Mary had done most of the planning, James added details, and Peter mainly sat there and nodded.
James was very proud of their creation, naturally, even now that his lungs were working overtime, and Mary was still nowhere in sight. This was exactly how he thought searching the real Atlantis would be like – brave sailors pushing their bodies to their limit, not minding the fatigue or the ache or the trembling, with just one thing in mind: the Island of Paradise. A win. The moment you felt like quitting, was when you needed to keep trying twice as hard. That’s what his father had always told him. Never give up, Jamie.
He could hear the other kids yelling and the silence that followed every call. Mary wasn’t within earshot – or she was cheating, which wasn’t unlike either – so James took a quick turn and ran off to a completely different direction, not into the thickening forest, but towards the shoreline of the beach. He could see the sun reflecting on the water ahead of him, so he stopped and tried to steady his breathing. There were still tall, bushy trees everywhere around him, but he could hear the waves now. Smell the breeze of the ocean air.
“Green!” James yelled, certain that the others weren’t around to steal his win. A moment of silence later and then, just like he had anticipated, his call was answered with a high-pitched yell not too far ahead.
“Light!”
He sprinted in her direction.
*
“Would you welcome Regulus Black here with open arms? Or Walburga herself?” Lily asked. She did her best to maintain a calm tone, but her words came out clipped.
James’ restless fingers were playing with the handle of his sword. “Of course, not.”
“Exactly! That’s why they chose him, for fanden. He’s your Achille’s heel.” Her eyes kept switching between him and whatever was behind his shoulder. James didn’t have to look to know. He could almost feel their entire crew staring at them, judging eyes pointing at his back like loaded guns. He would have to explain the situation later – maybe, just maybe, they hadn’t recognized Sirius when he was taken to the sickbay. Maybe the rumours hadn’t started to spread yet.
*
James was successfully closing the distance between him and Mary, and they both knew it. He could see parts of her flashing through the leaves, her blue dress and dark curls, and though his legs were screaming, he was certain he’d catch her.
Just a couple feet more. A tiny exertion, and the victory would be his for the taking.
“You can try!” James yelled because the best moment for dramatics was just before winning the game – he had learned that from numerous adventure books. He had to wait a couple extra breaths to continue his sentence. “But I’ll get you!”
“You wish, Jamie!” Mary shouted and took a quick turn right. Idiot, he thought and followed her loud footsteps. She was running towards the water – soon she’d find herself surrounded, blocked between James and the sea. Although Mary was a bloody good swimmer, James was pretty sure he’d outswim her in, well, seconds.
But Mary wasn’t aiming for a dip in the clear shallows. She was standing right behind a giant shrub, a heavy branch stretched out in her grip. Before James even had the time to consider backing off or dodging, she let go of the sprig and let it swing right at his face.
It didn’t hurt, not really, but the momentum interfered quite annoyingly with his balance, and he stumbled on the ground. “Damn,” James swore, and even though it was the worst word he could think of, there wasn’t time for guilt. He needed to get up and find her before she would escape his reach for good.
Something splashed in the water, much closer to him than he had anticipated. Alright. Mary had decided to follow the shoreline after all. Easy, he’d get there. He crawled into the safety of the undergrowth, avoiding any sound that would alert her.
Another splash.
James peered through the thick leaves, and even though he couldn’t see very clearly, he saw enough. Mary was paddling in the light blue water, the sun reflecting on her dark hair. The leaves covered the rest of the girl, but James saw his chance. Just ahead of him, the greenery ended in a small drop.
She wouldn’t see this one coming.
To James’ dismay, he was already mid-air when he realized that the kid underneath him wasn’t Mary at all, but a boy he had never seen before in his life: a boy with long black hair flowing in the wind and sharp, sculpture-like features. His face contorted into mild surprise, then quickly to amusement, as he looked up. James tried to alter his direction but failed, and they both hit the wet sand with a painful thud.
*
“He’s not here to hurt us,” James swore. Anger started to bubble beneath his skin. Lily could disapprove his judgement skills all day if she wanted, but Sirius was... he was not like that. He was not one of them.
His old best friend had looked so familiar at the beach, not too far from the spot of their first meeting. He had grown, obviously; his features were harsher now, tattoos covering his pale skin, but his eyes were still the same.
Sirius’ expression a few hours ago had been nearly identical to the one he’d had when his and James’ world had fallen apart. Sometimes, that look haunted him. The look of a terrified child, all alone in the world.
Odd, how a person could feel like a memory.
“He practically has a free ticket right next to the leading captain of the Navy! You can’t deny...” Lily had a pleading look on her face. “This sounds an awful lot like trickery.”
“He needs me!” James defended. His chest was aching. “He’s my friend and he needs me.”
“Bloody hell, James, why can’t you see it?” Lily shot back. “He was your friend. Everything’s changed now! It’s been, what, ten years? You don’t even know him anymore!”
Even she looked surprised, but the words were already out in the air, bitter and spikey, scraping James like the daggers that had been thrown at Sirius. Everything seemed to slow down, the bursting sounds of Havana muffling to a noise in the background. All he could hear was the silence of his own thoughts.
*
“Simmer down, mate,” the boy grunted and shoved James gently off him. He had surprisingly much strength in him, despite him being a lot scrawnier than James. “If it was my brother you jumped on like that, you would’ve already been torn into shreds. Trust me, I’ve seen it happen.”
He had an odd way of speaking; English rolled roughly on his tongue, it had a certain edge that James and his friends’ well-spoken syllables were missing. Like a pirate, flashed through James’ mind but the boy wasn’t dressed like a thief. If the smug grin and careless hair were overlooked, he passed as a proper rich brat, dressed in a tailored black suit that was way too fancy for a simple walk outside. Skin that white suggested of long, privileged days spent inside, far from the burning sun. There weren’t many people like the boy here in Havana – in Britain, where James’ father was from, the sight was much more common.
Still, not everything felt right; there was something unusual about the posh exterior of the boy, it didn’t fit together with the accent or the hair. James couldn’t quite place it, but the boy looked like he didn’t belong here.
“Didn’t do it on purpose, I swear!” James laughed. “I mistook you for my friend. Sorry.”
“Do you try to kill you friends very often?” the boy asked lightly, like it wasn’t that uncommon to be tackled by a stranger and getting your expensive suit all wet and rumpled.
“It’s a game,” James specified. “Our game, we created it.”
“Nice.” It sounded genuine.
James climbed onto his feet – it was a little difficult; he could still feel the impact aching on his left knee – and offered the other boy his hand. “The name’s James, by the way. James Potter.”
“Sirius Bla-” The boy stopped mid-sentence, and James was pretty sure he rolled his eyes. “Uhhh... Ba- Pad... Padfoot?”
“Sirius Padfoot?”
“Aye. My dear mother makes me use a fake name when I run into strangers. Though,” the grin widened, if that was even possible, “I suppose I just blew up the purpose.”
“She doesn’t need to know, does she, Pads?” James mirrored the grin, and Sirius finally took his hand with a firm grip and let himself be pulled up.
The odd glow surrounding Sirius was even stronger now that he was back on his feet; he very obviously tried to have a carefree, almost scoundrel-like appearance, but the perfect posture was still there. His back was straight like a pole and his nose high up in the air like he was looking down at James despite being shorter than him. Sirius seemed completely nonplussed, even after a surprise that would’ve sent a weaker boy into discomfort.
“I'm so glad something noteworthy happened today,” Sirius said. He was agile, climbing to the shore, and James followed just as fast. Their paces matched perfectly. “It’s so bloody boring in here. My brother’s a moron: doesn’t want to break the rules and leave the house.”
“What a dullard,” James agreed, but his attention was no longer in the conversation. Now that they were on firm ground, he could see the surroundings better, a part of the island he didn’t even know existed.
A giant courtyard spread in front of him. It had a well-maintained garden and over the palm trees surrounding the area James could make out the outline of a big mast, meaning that the place had a private dock. Massive red flowers bloomed in neat rows, scattered all around the yard. In the centre of it all, demanding all the attention was a house. Hell, James wasn’t sure if the building could even be described as a house. More like a castle that could have been the palace of a storybook villain. It towered over the yard, casting shadows in every direction. Straight ahead of them a massive white staircase led to an entrance. James was quite sure the doors were thrice as tall as him. Marble pillars held up the ornamental archways, and he couldn’t make out a single spot of dirt on the gleaming white surface.
The mansion was an insane display of wealth, and even though James hadn’t by any means grown up poor, he was a bit intimidated by it. Usually houses made to showcase wealth were colourful and bright, but this one was simply... black. The only colours besides black were the white stairs and the dark green curtains that were visible through the grand windows. The house looked abandoned, like time had stopped and no one in the house had moved in the past hundred years. However, one window was open on the fifth floor, and a mop of dark hair was resting face-down on the windowsill.
“Damn.” James didn’t even try to hide his bewilderment. “You live here?”
“Pfft,” Sirius scoffed, but lost his irony when he realized that the other wasn’t joking. “I mean... aye. It’s my house. Or my... family’s house, I suppose.”
James raised his brows. “You don’t like it?”
“No.”
The answer came so quickly that even Sirius’ carefree exterior couldn’t hide the misery in his voice. James reached out to him and jabbed his shoulder. He had a feeling Sirius didn’t want to discuss the subject any further. “Come play with my friends, then. If you want to, of course.”
The grin. The one that James had later learned to be that Sirius Black grin.
“I hope your friends are ready to lose.”
*
Lily’s features softened. She closed her eyes and for a second, she looked so very tired. James felt a surge of guilt inside him. Technically he knew Lily was right. The ship was as much her home as it was James’. But. He’s Sirius. You owe it to him.
With a deep sigh, Lily took a compassionate step towards him. “I know you care about him, but it’s been years. People change. People get changed. And even if his story was true, if he really escaped his... clearly awful family, he’s still a Black. Their sort would come after us.” She laid her hand on his arm. “I admire your loyalty, I really do, but we have a whole crew to protect.”
“I...” James swallowed. Distressing images of a black-sailed fleet on the horizon flooded his mind, advancing against Vespera with nothing but death to offer. They wouldn’t bargain or simply settle for Sirius, no. They'd tear his ship and crew apart. He was completely ready to fight for Sirius, but it was unfair to ask that of his crew. Lily had a bright future, she was the smartest person he knew. Every single person aboard the Vespera was at least an acquaintance, most of them he thought of as friends: Locke, Pettigrew, the Longbottoms. Anyone, really.
James’ mind was at war.
“I know that it’s completely insane, but I know him. I need you to trust me on this.” He fixed his glasses and decided to ignore how hard his hands were still shaking. Lily noticed and frowned at him. “He hates them. He would rather die than sell me out.”
Lily tutted and took another step closer. “Your crew begs to differ. The Blacks are the most dangerous thing on these Seven Seas. It’s either our lives or Sirius’. And you know it.”
*
Later, he used to refer to his and Sirius’ time at Havana as the happy years. Not that life had turned out too bad afterwards; James had the right to complain about his life as much as King George did, but sometimes he longed for those bright, golden days. It was before he had realized the exhausting complexity of things: pirates had been just a game, back then, the Navy a group of mighty heroes capable of saving the Caribbean – the entire world, actually. He hadn’t really understood who Sirius’ family was, not even after a bloody and beaten Sirius had one night told him everything, tears running down his cheeks like he expected James to spit on him after hearing the truth. It took several years for James to truly comprehend the gravity of Sirius’ situation – if he even did now.
Eventually, Havana became too dangerous for the school to be kept there, and James moved back to Britain along his other friends. Only Sirius stayed behind, and James never fully forgot how his best friend trembled in his arms when they hugged goodbye, when Sirius tried to laugh it off and reassure that he’d survive, even though James vowed to come back.
He never did.
*
And now that Sirius had finally found him, James would have to desert him again. Lily was right; Sirius on the ship would go against everything James had built and worked for in his life – his career, the sailors he had sworn to protect, and Sirius would be, again, as alone as a Black was destined to be.
He would laugh it off, just like last time, and even though James was certain that he’d manage, he wasn’t sure if Sirius himself even wanted to. The world was so empty when faced alone.
Lily was still staring at him, a worrying expression on her face. With a sigh, she dropped her hand.
She nudged James’ boot with her own, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at her.
Again, she kicked him, but with more force. When he still didn’t respond, she groaned.
“Fucking hell, I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she muttered. “Fine, you big baby! But only until the next big port we pass.” James looked up so fast that something in his neck cracked. He had almost lost himself staring at the lively crowd of Havana, ending its day like nothing outside the ordinary was happening.
“You know, there’s always been a bit of a rebel in me.”
James stared down at the brown mark on the expensive leather, then back up at her. “Do you mean-”
“This is temporary.” Lily raised her hands to stop James from spreading his arms. “He stays inside as much as possible – nowhere near the helm or the masts or anything of importance, really. And he must be accompanied by a trustworthy crewmember at all times. When you’re taken, Locke can babysit him.”
“That’s-”
“And if the Navy finds out, you’ll take all responsibility!”
“Wouldn’t ask for more.” The grin on James’ lips made Lily roll her eyes. “I know you liked him, flower.”
Lily snorted. “Have fun explaining this to the crew and informing Locke of his new protege. And from what I’ve heard, he’s a bloody nuisance.”
James let out a relieved laugh and reached to ruffle Lily’s fiery hair. She side-stepped him dryly, swatting at his arm. Still, James could tell she wasn’t truly mad, even when she muttered out “Keep your dirty little paws to yourself, captain. And remember, this is only for a couple of weeks!”
He knew Lily had good reasons. Still, James couldn’t help but be happy. Fuck the Navy (not actually, the Order was his whole life), if it meant getting Sirius back. A couple of weeks was better than nothing, and at least Pads would be safe. They’d get to share, well, Vespera. For James, Vespera was home in the truest meaning of the word. Every time he stepped on the ship, a warmth spread through him. Like he was welcomed, and even on the darkest days and in the moodiest storms, Vespera always made it out.
It had become a joke in the Navy. A job aboard the Vespera was the safest possible job in the Navy. Of course, facing the pirates was never really safe, but as far as those meetings went, Vespera and the crew always came out of them alive.
The ship was old, and James’ mom had been a captain on the exact same ship. Vespera’s white sails fluttered in the evening wind, the old wood creaking in the warm light cast by the oil lamps scattered around the quarterdeck. With one last jokingly grumpy look, Lily walked past him to take her place behind the helm. He turned around to follow her, but she shook her head at him. “Talk to them,” she mouthed, and motioned behind James’ back.
James turned around. The entire crew was there, waiting for information. It was unusual for them to see James and Lily argue so openly about something.
He cleared his throat and all eyes turned to him. The murmuring died down and all movement stopped. Most people would’ve been nervous speak to an entire crew, but here, James was in his element. Standing on the deck, Lily close to him and the smell of saltwater and tobacco in the air.
“Evening to all of you. Our course for now is Santiago de Cuba. As you can see, the weather is not too bad, and Locke has given us the coordinates. We should get there in two weeks' time, which is not much, but we have the best crew, so we’ll make it.”
A few encouraging shouts came from the crew.
“What comes to the discussion Lily and I just had, a friend of mine will join us for this journey. He will mostly stay inside, but he is a gifted sailor. He goes by the name Bla.. Ba- Padfoot. Do you have any questions?”
James’ words were met with silence, but the crew looked satisfied enough with the information.
“Good!” he smiled. “Then we shall set sail.”
The crew dispersed to their own posts, falling to their usual routine. James stayed to watch the rest of the sails rise and Edgard the barrelman climb to his lookout. He glanced back to find Lily in deep discussion with Alice Longbottom, the gunner of Vespera. He considered joining them, but first he had to bite the bullet and talk to Locke.
The man was part of the crew that had their own offices close to the captain’s quarters, so he hadn’t even heard James’ half-assed explanation. With a sigh, he set out.
***
Locke’s office was almost next to his, the only office between them was Lily’s. James stopped behind a wooden door with no name. He raised his fist to knock. A muffled “Come in,” came from the other side of the door. Pushing the door open with his left hand, James removed his tricorn from his head. Locke was standing next to his desk covered in maps and various books. The Gilderoy Lockhart James remembered from school was very different. His hair had been a bit blonder, his eyes lighter, and he had been much more outgoing. Annoying, really. James had always regarded Locke with respect (mixed with amusement and a bit of pity). The boy had been trying so hard to fit in, but his over-eagerness had resulted in most of the school making practical and well-meaning jokes on his behalf. Anyone could tell that he didn’t necessarily like Havana. James had been surprised when the information of Locke joining his ship had reached him. Supposedly he was bloody good at what he did, but Locke?
He of course couldn’t pick his crew by himself, the Navy didn’t work like that. The only person the captain could choose was the person second in command. He had, obviously, chosen Lily.
James had done his best to keep his face neutral, when they had picked Locke up from the port of London. For a moment, he had thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. The man standing on the docks had been very far from the mental image of Gilderoy Lockhart that had existed in James’ head. Besides the looks, the man’s personality had done a proper transformation.
After many tricky situations on the sea, Locke had proven to be irreplaceable. His knowledge of maps and the seas was so incredible that sometimes James wondered if the man simply ate information for breakfast. Locke had grown on him, so much so that James almost felt bad about the news he was there to deliver.
“Good evening, captain.”
“Hey, Locke. You can call me James, just like everyone else does.”
James had told the man to call him by his first name at least a hundred times, but every single interaction started with ‘captain’. “Something... important has come up, and I wondered if I could ask a favour from you.”
Locke eyed him warily but nodded. ”Of course, what do you need?”
James didn’t always know how to behave around Locke, he never knew what to say. Locke was so proper and polite, tight-lipped about everything besides his job that James’ own words started to resemble those old pretentious commodores he hated. It was like the man was almost constantly scared and on the lookout for something and letting some personality slip would mean death. He didn’t get close with anyone on the ship, except Lily, and even her he kept an arm’s length away.
“A friend of mine has unexpectedly come to stay on the Vespera with us. He will be mostly staying with me, but when I’m unavailable, he’s to stay with you.” Giving orders brought a strange taste to James’s mouth.
Locke’s left brow shot up. “Is your friend an adult?”
“Yes.”
“Then why do they need someone to watch them?”
“Becausehestheblackheirandlilydoesnttrusthim?”
Across the desk, Locke looked confused. “I’m sorry sir, I didn’t quite catch that?”
James took a deep breath. “He, uhm, is the Black heir?” he did not mean for the sentence to sound like a question.
Locke’s face was fell.
“He’s the Black heir.”
“Yes.”
“You brought the Black heir to your ship.”
“...yes.”
“And you intend on letting him stay here.”
It wasn’t formed as a question, but James still answered. “Yes.”
With a sigh, Locke leaned his elbows on the desk and buried his head in his hands. He muttered something to himself which James didn’t catch, but he was quite sure many superlative adjectives were used to describe his insanity. Locke remined in his defeated position for a while longer. When he finally lifted his head, his expression was blank. “Older or younger?”
James tried to gauge Locke’s reaction, but his poker face was too good. “Older.”
“So, Sirius Black. And you know him from..?”
“School. I mean, we didn’t go to the same school, but we met because of school.”
With a nod, Locke straightened his back. His fingers were covered in red and black ink and while running his hand through his hair, he managed to get some ink on his forehead. “Very well. I’ll watch him.”
***
James had to crouch slightly to walk through the doors of the sickbay. Below the waterline, the medical station was lit only by candles. The surgeon of Vespera, Arthur Weasley, was nowhere in sight, but Sirius was. He lay there on a thin bed, inky hair spread around his head like a dark halo. James’ chest ached. He looked so... vulnerable? The sight was nearly identical to the one James’ had grown used to ten years ago.
The candle beside Padfoot’s bed cast his face in regal shadows. He seemed to be asleep, his chest raising with deep breaths. There was a proper bruise forming around his left eye, like someone had punched him with brass knuckles on. Bandages ran around his right shoulder and bare chest, covering tattoos upon tattoos scattered throughout his pale body. The rest of him was covered by a blanket, but James could still make out the faint shape of more bandages around his legs. It must’ve been quite a beating. He moved closer to get a better look at the injuries and was just about to lift the foot of the blanket, when an amused voice came from his right.
“Enjoying the view, are we, Potter?”
James startled. “Bloody hell! What’s the matter with you, nutter? Scaring innocent people worried about your wellbeing?!”
Sirius tried to laugh, but instead a violent cough shook his body. James passed him his own waterskin, and Sirius gulped the liquid down. Usually, water aboard would be diluted with rum, but James had seen enough captains pass out on their jobs, so he stuck strictly to plain water. Passing the waterskin back to him, Sirius struggled up the bed to sit.
“How are you?” James asked.
Sirius answered with a raised eyebrow. He gestured to his bandages vaguely and smirked. “Fucking fantastic, as you can see. Never better. I can almost move my shoulder, see-”
“Be so kind, Mr. Black, and do not destroy my work. A knife through a shoulder is very difficult to wrap, the least you can do is to stay still. Unless you want me to disinfect it again? No?” Arthur Weasley had appeared on the doorstep, holding a jar of some sort of salve.
Sirius shook his head vehemently under Weasley’s pointed gaze. He had definitely learned that look from his wife.
“Thought so.”
Weasley’s receding carrot-coloured hair shone in the candlelight as he leaned in to check Sirius’s head. Sirius eyed the surgeon warily. James made eye contact with the man being examined and had to stifle laughter at the look on Sirius’ face. His head was being moved around by Weasley’s rough hands, giving very little choice for him to resist.
Weasley declared him to be well enough to live throughout the night. James hadn’t even realised that the injuries were that bad and scolded himself for not noticing. Weasley collected his belongings and nodded at him.
“I shall check on you again in a few hours. Until then, should you need anything, ring the bell next to your bed. Is everything clear?” Arthur paused at the foot of Sirius’ bed and looked at him expectantly.
Sirius simply nodded, eyes wide. He was still afraid of doctors, then. Weasley nodded, winked at James and left.
“So...”
“So?”
“So.”
Sirius broke first. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. James grabbed the stool Weasley sometimes used in extremely long procedures and sat next to Sirius. His eyes were still closed but a smile was creeping on his lips.
“So, what did you do, this time?” James tried his best to keep his voice light, but from the sour look that took over Sirius’ face and made his smile drop, he was quite sure he failed. “I mean, must’ve been quite something, for you to get... kicked out?”
“Yeah. Quite something.”
James waited for him to continue. All Sirius did was open his eyes, and stare at him.
“I messed up, Prongs.”
James got the distinct expression that his best mate was lying to him. The room grew quiet between them, like Sirius had realised that he didn’t sound very believable. He ran a trembling hand through his hair and winced, when his fingers brushed the bandages. James stared helplessly at him.
“I don’t want to talk about it. Not yet, at least.” Sirius’ voice was fragile, like a rope threatening to snap. “I was given a choice. I obviously did not choose the option they wanted, and they, well.” he gestured at himself again. “Did this.”
“Have I ever told you that your family is bloody bonkers?” James asked, trying to force some cheer into his voice.
Sirius smiled a sad smile. “Yeah, most of them are.” He looked so thoroughly worn out that James wouldn’t have been surprised if he had fallen asleep while sitting. Sirius was older than him by a year, but he looked pathetically small curled under the covers, head titled back and eyes dull. James wanted to desperately fix the look on his face. He reached out and placed a hand on Sirius’ shoulder. Grey eyes zeroed in on him, and James was again selfishly happy to have him back.
“Man, I thought they’d kill you; I really did,” his voice almost gave out. “I’m so fucking happy you’re here. I missed you, Pads.”
Sirius made a painful noise from the back of his throat. He lifted his gaze from James and into the ceiling. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered. “You’re too good to me by half a mile, Prongs. But for what it’s worth, I fucking missed you too.”
Sirius had always been prone to dramatics, but he obviously was a lot more affected by what had happened than he let on. James couldn’t quite wrap his fingers around what exactly was bothering Sirius. Before, he would’ve been happy to get out of the manor and away from his family. Now, he seemed miserable to be out. James desperately wanted to say the right thing, to ease his friend’s worries and fix the situation. “Oi, pisspot. You still owe me at least two rounds at Mary’s. Don’t get too mopey, I want my money back!”
That seemed to do the trick.
“Aye, I’ll admit to that, but at least I didn’t try to kill you the first time I bloody saw you!”
James grinned and reached to shove Sirius in his uninjured shoulder. The other man shoved him back twice as hard. He reached to put Sirius in a gentle headlock, but the other was quicker. He swatted James’ hand so hard that James was sure would bruise later. Grinning, he raised his fist for a payback.
“Oi, you two!” Arthur Weasley’s voice drifted from the hallway. “I have ears, and whatever you’re doing does not sound like letting my patient rest!”