Chapter 2
James Potter was often referred to as the sun. It was an affectionate nickname he’d been given as a young boy, and one that had followed him since. People called him bright, called him happy, called him the sun. James just called himself James. He never tried to be anything he wasn’t. That’s why he liked being called the sun, because he knew he was that, knew that people really meant that, and it comforted him.
It also helped that his parents were just as kind as James was, possibly even more so. Fleamont and Euphemia Potter were third in command in the Gryffindor pack, and were beloved by all. They helped with the pack any way the could, and taught James to do the same. Overall they were a happy family, and with Sirius, their newest addition, James was content with his life.
He walked down the street in No Mans Land, checking his watch. It was getting late, but Sirius had been distraught when James had last seen him, claiming he’d left Remus’s jumper at the club they usually traversed at, and that Moony would kill him if he found out. Indeed Remus would not be happy to find his jumper missing, though considering Sirius was his mate James was pretty sure Remus wouldn’t hurt him too badly.
A breeze ruffled James’s hair and he shoved his hands deeper into his jacket, shivering from the cold. It was a chilly night, and while James would much prefer to be in his home, drinking a cup of hot coca and talking around the fireplace with his family, he knew Sirius wouldn’t rest until he got Moony’s jumper back, so James was here, getting the jumper for him.
He turned to the house, walking to the door with a skip in his step. He knocked three times, waited a beat, then knocked twice again like Sirius told him to. He wasn’t sure how Sirius knew, but he was always somehow updated on what the new passwords were to get into this place.
The door opened and james grinned at the man behind it, giving him a wave. The man nodded in return, the most James would get out of him. Not that he minded though. He walked down the stairs, taking them two at a time so he could get out faster. Don’t get him wrong, he liked this place, but they were doing a rerun of Pitch Perfect back at home and James didn’t want to miss out on too much.
At the bottom of the stairs he waved at the other guy, this one giving him a bright smile before opening the door for him. James knew the man was from Hufflepuff pack, but other than that the man was a mystery. Most people here were, preferring to keep their identities a secret while visiting.
James understood why they wanted that, he did, but he couldn’t help but feel it put a bit of a damper on things. Wouldn’t you go here to meet new people? To learn about their experiences in their packs, and pass around stories of their own packs? Wouldn’t you want to know all you could about the different packs, since they were usually so secretive you barely got any information from them.
This would be the perfect opportunity to make some different friends. To create relations to different packs, and push for a better peace between them. Technically they were at peace now, but everyone knew they were only at ‘peace’ so their lands weren’t stolen. It was a precarious alliance at best, especially between Gryffindor and Slytherin.
James had met many Slytherins here though, Slytherins that had been interesting and fun and exciting. Slytherins that hadn’t wanted to bash his head in or spit in his face. This stupid rivalry between the two packs didn’t exist here, one of the reasons why James loved it so much.
James walked with purpose towards the bar where Aberforth was serving drinks. Out of everyone in the club, James knew Aberforth best. They’d met a couple of times in Gryffindor territory, back before he left. Afterwards, they saw each other years later when James and Sirius first discovered this place, and they’d had a blossoming relationship ever since.
“Aberforth,” James chirped. “How you doing?”
Aberforth sent James a dirty look, ignoring him as he started wiping the bar’s surface with a dish towel. Like James said, a blossoming friendship.James grinned at him and sat on the stool, his eyes scanning the bar for any sign of Remus’s woollen jumper. He knew that Aberforth would have kept Remus’s jumper safe if he’d found it, so he just had to wait for Aberforth to acknowledge his existence to get it.
“Aberforth,” James sang, leaning on the counter.
Aberforth scowled at whipped James with the towel, causing the boy to yelp and pull back, rubbing his elbow with a pout on his face.
Aberforth raised the cloth at him warningly. “Don’t dirty my counter boy.”
James held up his hands. “Sorry, sorry. I just came here to see if you’d noticed Moony’s jumper anywhere here? He left it here last time we came around.”
Aberforth grunted. “You mean that boy of his left it here.”
James grinned. “Padfoot, yeah.”
His friends had all deemed it safer if while they were here they went by their nicknames, so all the staff and regulars here knew James and his friends has Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. They’d had the nicknames since they were 16, deciding to name themselves after the animal they first killed, even though some of their friends didn’t have the best first kill stories.
Aberforth sighed and jerked his head to the side of the bar where a box lay, and James spied the corner of Remus’s jumper inside. He flashed Aberforth one last grin before moving around to enter the bar, giving the bartender a large berth of space as he went to the box where his friend’s jumper was.
Once he collected it, he was about to go on his merry way, figuring if he hurried he might be able to get back home before they started the second Pitch Perfect movie, when something made him stop.
At first he was confused as to what he sensed, why he’d stopped, but then he smelt it. A wonderful, captivating smell that had him bursting at the seams. He knew what it was. Knew what this meant. Knew that somewhere in this club, his person was there. Maybe dancing, maybe drinking, maybe talking with friends.
All James knew was that his mate was here, and he wouldn’t stop until he found them. He took a deep breath, inhaling the heavenly smell of his mate, and focused on the scent, where it was coming from.
It took all his will power not to just drown himself in the smell, let him fade into blissful oblivion with how good it smelt, but James knew seeing his mate, meeting them, would be ten times better.
He pushed through the crowd of people, not even bothering to apologise as he searched for them. That person, his person. He couldn’t think beyond the fact that he needed to find them. He needed to see them with his own eyes, to see them and confirm that yes, he had a mate. He had a mate that was right in front of him, and he could finally stop searching.
James was tired of searching.
For as long as he could remember, he’d looked up to his parents, two mates that loved each other more than life itself. Who created a life for themselves, had James, made themselves a family. Who was the example of love that James was desperate to find, the story of love that James wanted for himself. He wanted it for himself, that gut wrenching adoration he saw in his fathers eyes as he looked at his mother. That suffocating feeling of love that wrapped itself around his parents, made them fall helplessly in love, pushed together by the Mother herself and the mating bond she placed upon them.
James wanted that, desperately, and he was about to get it.
He’d just avoided getting elbowed in the face from a pair of rather frisky dancers when he found him. The most beautiful boy he’d ever seen. An angel sent from heaven just for James, an angel James wanted to protect and take care of and love forever.
A man with ivory white skin, a deftly crafted body covered in oversized clothes, and raven black hair looking so soft and perfect that James couldn’t stop himself from imagining what it would feel like to stroke his fingers through it. It was jet-black, fine strands of hair dipped in ink, threads of night woven together to create this masterpiece. To create him.
James watched in awe as the man turned around, eyes searching desperately before they landed on him. James had never felt happier than right then, looking at his mate’s face and seeing the same longing on it that he himself felt. To feel connected to someone so deeply, so perfectly in sync that you could practically feel what the other was feeling.
They stared at each other for what seemed like hours, days, weeks. They were the only things that mattered, the two of them alone together, staring at each other like they were a gift from the heavens.
James stared at his mate, a feeling so strong and light blossoming in his chest. He stared at the man before him, drinking in his sharp cheekbones, his grey eyes, remnants of the blacksmiths fire in them, and his thin, pink lips. He stared at him, and he couldn’t help the words that slipped past his lips, almost as if pulled from some inner part of him.
“Mate,” he breathed.
That word seemed to shatter everything. James watched, as if in slow motion, the realisation pass over the man’s face, realisation of who James was, what this feeling meant, why he felt it.
Then the gut wrenching pain when he saw pure, undiluted horror on his mate’s face. Horror that James was his mate, that he was now shackled to him. He watched as the man started to shake his head. No, he seemed to say. Not him. Anyone but him.
James was… confused. And hurt. He didn’t understand what was happening, why this man that had filled him with such unfiltered joymere seconds ago was now staring at James like he was something to fear, drowning whatever happiness James had felt and replacing it with a sickening dread that filled every part of him. It was in his mind, his heart, his lungs, in every crack and crevice within him, making sure the previous light of meeting his mate rotted inside him, twisted into something ugly and decayed.
James didn’t even get to ask the man why he looked as though being James’s mate was a death sentence. James blinked and the man was gone, sprinting off, running as fast as he could away from James.
Panic clawed at his throat. He didn’t want to lose this man, didn’t want to never see him again. He wanted to understand, to figure out what was going on, and he couldn’t very well do that when his mate was running away from him.
So James shoved down whatever fear he felt. Whatever negative emotions were filling him, distracting him from his mate, and ran. He ran after him like it was the only thing he knew how to do, heart thudding and chest heaving, desperate to catch him before he left forever, never to be seen again.
He was too late though.
He ran, but it wasn’t enough. He threw people out of the way, pushing others to the floor, but it wasn’t enough. He screamed, he yelled, he begged, but it wasn’t enough. By the time James managed to get out of the club, shoving the door open and having the wind whip across his face, his mate was gone.
The wind had blown out his favour, taking his scent away. James wasn’t sure where to go, what to do, so he just stood there, Remus’s forgotten jumper in his hand. He stood there for however long, the cold numbing his body as he stared unseeingly ahead, his mind whirring yet at the same time frozen. Stuck on the man that had fled from James. That had run away in fear, as if being James’s mate was the worst possible thing that could have happened.
James was distantly aware of his phone ringing. He wasn’t sure how long it had been going for, or how much time had passed since he’d stopped running, standing on the corner of the street where he’d lost his mate.
Numbly, James fished his phone from his pocket, reading the caller ID.
Sirius.
Just the name put James at ease. Sirius was always there for him. Sirius would know what to do, where his mate went, what James needed to do to get him back. Sirius would know, so James answered the phone.
“James? James are you alright?” Sirius’s voice was panicked, his words rushed.
There was noise on the other end of the phone, the sound of other people, and James was hit with the need to be with his best friend.Tears formed in his eyes as he sniffled, wiping them hastily.
“James?” Remus’s voice was on the phone. “James, where are you?”
James sniffed. “M’ at the club.”
“Still?” that was Peter’s voice. “Mate, you’ve been gone for two hours. It’s only an hour trip there and back.”
James tried to get his emotions in check, knowing that breaking down in No Mans Land in the slums part of the city wouldn’t be wise. “I- I need you to come get me.”
“Okay,” Sirius’s response was immediate. “We’re coming right now. Stay on the phone, yeah?”
James did as Sirius asked, though he didn’t speak for majority of the time as he waited for his friends to come and get him. When they did, James felt as if an eternity and a second had passed, both at the same time.
Sirius was out of the car before it had stopped and ran to James, throwing his arms around him. That was all the encouragement James needed to slump into his friend’s embrace, letting himself sag against him, feeling hurt and confused and exhausted.
Sirius didn’t ask questions as he led James in the car. Didn’t ask him what was wrong as Remus drove them home, Peter in the passenger seat, passing worried glances but not saying anything. They didn’t demand anything until James got home, until they wrapped a blanket around him and sat him on the couch, a mug of hot coca in his hand.
“So, are you ready to talk about what happened?” Sirius asked, sitting on the coffee table in front of him.
There were discarded containers of takeaway scattered on the table, evidence of the others who had been in the house, hanging out with them. Sirius must have sent them away after he’d gotten the call from James.
James felt guilty. His friends has been here, ready for a night of fun, but James had ruined it all. At the same time though, James considered finding his mate more important that a night with friends that they had nearly every other Friday. Still, the guilt was there, and there it stayed.
His friends stared at him, waiting for his answer, and James swallowed thickly, almost scared to admit what happened himself. “I found my mate.”
The reaction was instantaneous. Peter gasped, as if James had whispered a rather scandalous piece of gossip. Remus let out a disbelieving laugh, eyes going to his mate, who let out a joyous whoop of laughter and tackled James into a hug.
James couldn’t help the smile that fought its way to the surface when he saw his friend’s happiness. They all looked so excited for him, and James sat there, waiting for when they realised this story would not end in happiness.
Remus was the first, unsurprisingly. His smile faded as he stared at James, remembering his earlier bout of sadness. Wondering why James felt like that if he’d met his mate. Peter was next; he’d always been the observant one of the bunch. No doubt wondering why James himself wasn’t bursting at the seams with joy. Wondering where his mate was. Why James left them.
Sirius was the last. He was still smiling, squeezing James’s shoulder. That was until he actually looked into his eyes. Sirius needed only to glance at James, at his eyes filled with sorrow, to know something was wrong. He turned to his friends, seeing their faces of similar worry, and turned back to James, grabbing his hand gently.
“What happened?”
James looked at their intertwined hands, taking a shaky breath. “He- he ran away from me.”
An onslaught of tears followed the statement as James broke down, sobbing into Sirius’s shoulder. He let everything go then, told them everything, all the while he felt his heart breaking. Why did the man leave? Why didn’t he stay? What was wrong with James? Why did he drive his mate away?
A feeling of worthlessness spread through James. A mate was the one person supposed to love you, flaws and all. The one person that would love you no matter what, the person who was made for you? How horrible could James be that his mate didn’t want to be with him? It was practically unheard of. James had heard stories of mates needing to take it slow, needing space for one another, but James’s mate didn’t even bother to learn his name. He’d just left, like being near James for any longer would damn him.
He was already damned though, because he was James’s mate. He was forever connected to James, whether he liked it or not, and it hurt James because he couldn’t even muster the strength to be mad at the man. He was just upset that he had left, but not mad. Never mad. He couldn’t find it in him to feel any sort of negative emotion towards the man, because even then James wanted to know him. Wanted to see him again.
He was barely aware of his friends, too far gone in his own head. He kept thinking about what he did to scare the man off, what James could have done differently so maybe he wouldn’t have run away. He replayed their meeting over and over in his mind, when he said the word mate. That was when everything had gone bad. He’d seen the man’s eyes widen in fear after his words. Maybe he wasn’t ready for a mate? That was fine with James; he could wait as long as he needed. He just wished the man had stayed long enough to tell James that.
Was it that he was scared his mate was a male? Did he not know he liked men? James would understand the fear in his eyes if he did, but again, he wished the man had stayed. They could have talked it out together, could have figured out what was wrong together. Instead the man ran away, leaving James to wonder if he’d ever see his mate again.
“Do you know what pack he was from?”
James looked at Sirius and felt an icy dread fill him. Sirius had once belonged to Slytherin pack, the pack he knew his mate was from, thanks to his scent. He knew Sirius wasn’t fond of the pack, of it’s leaders, and even less fond of the wolves within the pack. How would Sirius react to finding out James’s mate was from there? Would he still be happy for James? Would he be angry?
Only one way to find out.
“Slytherin,” James voiced, eyes on his best friend.
Sirius’s jaw clenched as his fingers jerked to the side, a reaction he often had when Slytherin pack was mentioned. He calmed down though, taking deep breaths he’d been taught to in therapy before sighing, looking at James with a half smile.
“I’m sure not all Slytherins are bad,” Sirius said, voice strained. “In fact, some of my brother’s friends weren’t that bad.”
James surged forward, wrapping his arms around his best friend. He was trying. Sirius was trying, and James could see that and was eternally grateful for it. Was eternally grateful for him, and all he did for James.
Sirius returned the embrace, arms tight around James as he clung to him. James felt safe in Sirius’s arms. He felt as if all would eventually be alright, and it was an immense relief. Maybe his mate didn’t hate him. Maybe it was all a misunderstanding. Maybe everything would all be okay.
Sirius pulled back, but the calm James had felt stayed. He knew a good nights sleep would be good, knew he’d be able to think more clearly tomorrow, and he was so tired. He felt as if he could sleep for years, and longed to just curl up into a ball and have sleep sweep him away from all his problems.
Before James could voice his wants, the door to the house opened. James knew who it would be, knew his parents were coming back from a late shift at work, knew they’d look forward to eat some of the leftovers in the fridge and relax on the couch together, say hello to James if he was there.
They wouldn’t be getting any of that though, because as soon as they entered the living room and saw James and his friends, they knew something was up. James wasn’t sure how they knew, how they could figure out that James was in distress by a mere glance, but they could, and as soon as they knew they threw those other plans out the window, focusing on their son in front of them that was hurting.
His friends moved back, almost on instinct, everyone knowing that getting in between a mother and her child was not a good idea. So they stepped back and Eupthemia and Fleamont Potter took their places on either side of them on the couch, Effie brushing his hair back and kissing him on the cheek, his father squeezing his shoulder.
They didn’t ask what was wrong. They waited until James was ready, and James, so tired and exhausted after the night he’d had, just wanted to spend some time with his parents before bringing up the bad news.
His parents were okay with that. They didn’t even say anything, just sat there with him, hugging him and letting him know he wasn’t alone. It was more than James could have hoped for. He melted into their embrace, let their love and care wash over him as he sighed, letting go of the terror the day had given him.
He felt strangely calm, sitting with his parents. It was similar with how he felt with Sirius, yet different. With Sirius he felt equal to them, believed they’d both work to find a solution. With his parents he felt smaller, and didn't give himself that much responsibility. He felt like everything would be okay because his parents would help fix it, because his parents were there for him and wanted him to be happy.
It made him feel as if he might be ready to tell his parents what had happened, yet when he opened his mouth he couldn’t get the words out. He didn’t want to tell his parents, because it would make it all the more real. He and his mates had kept plenty of secrets, so telling them what happened had just been instinct. He knew if he told his parents though, that would make everything real, which scared him.
Yet it also excited him, because while the night ended in hurt, the start of it had been wonderful. He remembered his mates scent, remembered the full force of his excitement running through him, begging to be released. He wanted to remember that part of the night, the good part, because if he only focused on the sadness then what was the point in having a mate?
So, ever so slowly, James pushed himself to tell his parents what happened, the story coming in stops and starts. They stayed silent as James talked, letting him tell the story in the way he wished. Once he was finished Effie sighed, stroking his forehead before bringing him into a hug.
“Oh my sweet, sweet boy,” she said softly. “How are you feeling now?”
James shrugged as he pulled back. “I… don’t know. The initial shock has worn off so I guess I’m just… confused. Why would he leave, Mum? I don’t understand.”
Effie took James’s hand brushing her thumb against it gently. “Well, not everyone is brought up the way you were, James. There are people who don’t expect to get a mate, people who aren’t as…. Invested in getting a mate as others. And that’s fine. This boy was probably just scared. Meeting your mate is overwhelming. He’ll be back, James. You just need to wait, to give him time.”
James nodded, relieved at his mothers words. He always looked to her for advice, and while the thought of waiting wasn’t appealing, he knew it was the right thing to do. His mother was probably right; his mate was just scared, and once he came to terms with it he’d come back, where James would be waiting with open arms.
Waiting was all he could do now, so that’s what he would do. Right now though, he was so tired he could collapse right on that couch and not get up for the next few days. He wanted a solid sleep in his bed, wrapped in his blankets and feeling safe. He had no doubt Sirius would sneak into his room tonight and they’d sleep side by side, like they always did when the other was going through something.
He told his parents and friends he was tired, getting up and bidding Remus and peter goodbye before shuffling upstairs to his room. He numbly stripped himself of his clothes, shoving his pj’s on before crawling under the covers, relishing in it’s heat.
Just as James had predicted, a few minutes later his door creaked open and there was the sound of padding feat before a weight was added on his bed.
“Move over you bloody hog,” Sirius whispered into the darkness, giving James’s side a sharp poke with his elbow.
James yelped, grumbling, but did as he asked, inching further along the bed so Sirius had room to get under the sheets. After that, there were murmured goodnights and James closed his eyes, Sirius’s body next to his a comfort, as he let sleep take him.