James hated these kinds of battles. He hated all of them really but this was just awful. The ones in public spaces he'd made so many memories in. It was made worse by the fact that open places seemed to be Voldemort’s fucked up wet dream.
Diagon Alley was full of smoke and almost every building was destroyed. It would be rebuilt with magic but that didn't mean it wouldn't take time. It didn't mean it would feel the same. There were flashes of hexed and curses farting past him constantly And he wondered for a moment if Sirius was alright. Of course he was, it was Sirius. He could handle himself.
James darted down a small alleyway to draw out any cowardly death eater that wasn't willing to fight for their ‘noble’ cause. They were always good to find, they were weak and gave up secrets easily if you promised you'd let them live. James had been told to not let that happen. He set them free anyway, sometimes. If he thought they were too young or naive. He wasn't a monster like they were climatized to be.
Gotcha. James thought to himself as he began to stalk a tall hooded figure down the road, around a few corners and then back out onto the Main Street. What are you doing? He wondered. Lookout? Avoiding the fight? Waiting for something? Just as he had managed to follow the death eater out into the pathway, he turned around to face James, mask securely over his face and hood up to help obscure his identity.
That, however, didn't stop the sharp pang in James’ chest when he saw him. There was something so familiar about him and it made James feel sick. He could see their eyes from here and something told him he knew just who this was.
Of course he did. They'd known each other for so long, they'd spent so much time together before he turned his back on James and everything he stood for. But could it be? He hadn't seen Evan Rosier in two years. Could it really be him?
He raised his wand and pointed it at the man’s chest from where they were standing, though he did not send any curses. The death eater mirrored him. They stood and waited. He seemed to have recognised James too. That was promising. But now what did he do? He couldn't exactly hug a death eater in the middle of the battle and this wasn't his Evan anymore. So he stood and stared. Probably-Evan did the same thing.
Moody stormed past him, throwing curses at two separate death eaters. He noticed James standing still.
“Come on, Potter, why are you hesitating, kill the damn man!” The gruff voice echoed around James’ head and he felt his wand hand drop by a few inches and knew then that he was absolutely right, because through the mask, he saw the man’s eyes soften into something familiar and sweet and he knew that no matter how many orders he was given, he couldn't do it. Like he'd seen all threat drop from James’ body on one go.
He swallowed down a startled laugh and settled for a step forward. His opponent did not step back, knowing James was no threat to him. He took another step, and another, until they weren't close enough to touch, but we're close enough to talk and look at each other properly.
“Ev?”
There was a beat, and then the death eater reached up slowly, carefully, and peeled the mask away from his face, pushing it upwards onto his hair to leave his face uncovered. The way he was looking at James was painful.
“James…I know what this looks like, but I promise you're going to be so proud of me. You…I can't tell you yet but you're going to be so proud.” So many thoughts were rushing through James’ mind that he didn't know whether he was about to run over and kiss him or punch him for the torment he had put James through. He was saved the trouble of deciding. “Reg and I-” Evan was cut off sharply.
“Merlin, Potter,” He saw a flash of light towards Evan, hitting him sharply in the chest and causing him to stumble, followed by a retaliation from Evan which led to Moody groaning in pain and clutching his face. James did not have time to intervene before Moody raised his wand again and sent Evan catapulting backwards, crashing into a pile of rubble twenty feet again and falling to the ground like a marionette cut from its strings. Everything turned to static. James didn't go up to him. Not only would it look more than suspicious, but he knew Evan was already dead, and he didn't want to get any closer. He'd rather remember him as the bubbly Slytherin from school.
James never did find out whether he would've been proud of him.