tossing pennies in the pool
The ministry employee get-togethers were truly the most dull hours of James’s life. They even surpassed the hours spent in a inferi-like haze during History of Magic at Hogwarts, with Bins’ lectures a constant drone putting the entire class to sleep.
A byproduct of the War, the department heads (surely forced into it by the jovial and optimistic Minister Fudge) held monthly social hours with rotating host duties. In theory, they were to “promote cooperation and provide networking opportunities.” In other words - give the muggleborns a chance to build the relationships purebloods and halfbloods have had since childhood, and through sheer proximity try and reduce the centuries old prejudice the purebloods had for their “less pure” colleagues.
While James could certainly get behind those sentiments, in actuality the events were boring as hell and people mostly just stuck with their own clique anyways.
Although he was on his own tonight - Sirius having begged off due to a “headache.” A nice excuse that happened to coincide with the night Remus returned from Hogwarts for the summer break.
James wondered when he’d be able to make his own excuses and floo home. He had just decided to start to sidle his way towards the exit when he heard it.
The bell pealing laugh that he still knew as well as his own. His eyes flutter shut before he can stop them, as a million memories of that laugh come surging back.
Lily
He should have known she’d be here tonight. She’d recently had a series of papers published that were taking the arithmancy world by storm. Surely the hosts for the evening - the Department of Mysteries, would ensure their darling was here to show them in a good light and talk about her research
The Evans Method they were calling it.
The Evans Method.
Because she had gone back to her maiden name after their divorce.
Throwing back the last of the rosé he’d been sipping, James makes for the doors to the atrium more purposefully. He’s been here long enough for appearances, and doesn’t feel up to facing his ex wife today.
It’s been nearly eighteen months since they last spoke, and just thinking of that conversation is enough to make James feel the heat of humiliation.
He didn’t know why he kept trying to talk about why their relationship failed. But it seemed like he took every opportunity to bring it up, even though Lily was clearly uncomfortable and just done with the topic.
He ran into her at Diagon Alley and talked her into getting a drink with him to discuss it. He cornered her at Marlene’s Yule party and couldn’t help but asking, “why.”
And of course, their last interaction at their ten year Hogwarts class reunion where she’d finally had enough and given him a verbal set down the likes of which he hadn’t experienced since their school days when he’d target Snape.
He just can’t leave well enough alone.
Despite their divorce being mostly amicable, and both of them agreeing that they were better as friends - or more accurately, as friendly acquaintances - he couldn’t stop himself from wondering why they didn’t work.
Lily was all he wanted for so many years, and they’d had nearly half a decade of happiness before things slowly went wrong.
Whenever he ran into her, or saw something that reminded him of her, or of them when they were still James and Lily, he’d wonder if he could have changed anything - wondered if there was just one thing he could have done differently that would have led to them still being happy together.
James didn’t know why he fixated on it so much. It’s not like he was unhappy now. He was on a new task force in the DMLE, saw his friends multiple times a week, traveled regularly, and was generally well-respected by his peers in the Wizengamot. He dated, mostly casually, but he never had a hard time finding company. Overall he was content.
Reminding himself of this didn’t help on the mornings he woke up alone.
He’s slipping through the atrium when his eyes catch on the golden statue dominating the space. He’s never cared for the subliminal messages the statue sends - he’s never seen a centaur look at a wizard with anything other than distrust, certainly not the adoration the statue depicts - but he’s tossed many a knut in the fountain.
There was a time a few years ago where he’d throw his spare coins in every time he passed by. Back when he knew his marriage was failing and was terrified of what separating might mean. Back when he thought he still thought might be able to convince Lily to stick it out and it was just a rough patch.
Back then, all his wishes were about Lily.
He pauses by the pool, realizing it had been at least a year since he’s made a wish.
Is that healing? If I’m not constantly wishing for life to be better, does that mean it’s alright now?
He digs in his pockets for some coins, and grumbles when he only finds a spare galleon.
At least it’s all going to charity. He reminds himself, glancing at the little placard that advertised what organization this month's donations would go to.
He throws the galleon in, far enough no greedy hands would easily be able to scoop it out, and tries to think of what to wish for.
I wish…that if it couldn’t have been Lily, I wish that I can still find the one.