Chapter 3
Sirius was content. So content, in fact, that he had the strange feeling that if he had a tail, it would be wagging even in his sleep.
For one thing, he was living in the same palace as one James Potter and all of his own friends. He was doing great at his job, he felt free in a way that his and Remus’ small flat in central London didn’t offer, and he was eating real food, not those pre-made monstrosities that Remus cooked on the daily.
That wasn’t all, though. He’d had a rather revelatory and uplifting conversation with Marlene. After witnessing the kiss James gave her on the cheek a few days ago, he thought that maybe he had read the situation all wrong, that maybe Marlene and James were something other than ‘just friends’ or even ‘best friends’. Maybe there were romantic feelings involved. Wouldn’t that explain why she’d been so adamant for him not to flirt with James? But no. When he’d asked her directly about it, Marlene had had such a fit of laughter that she’d ended up on the floor, clutching her tummy and gasping for air. She’d explained, brokenly but very clearly, that there was nothing of the sort in their relationship. That dating James, nevermind fucking him, was a thought that made her slightly nauseous. Once she’d calmed down, he’d asked her if James had a partner. She hadn’t answered him, only pinned him with a severe look, which meant that James was single and out of limits for him. The look didn’t work the way she’d intended, however. The prince was almost irresistibly attractive. He was definitely worth the hexes he might get from Marlene if he continued to pursue him.
So yes, he was content.
It had taken a while, and about a billion discussions, but finally they’d got the schedule more planned out and everybody was mostly in agreement with it. The first part had been rather easy, the distribution of subjects started off quite pleasantly, full of compliments for each other and all around ego boosts.
"Of course Transfiguration is Sirius' field," Remus had said. "He can out-transfigure any of us at any given time."
"Fuck yes, remember when he transfigured all the cushions into turntables in Divination? Mary almost shat herself when she started spinning."
"It was a brilliant display, I must admit. I would have chosen a livelier tune, though," Lily had said. Of course she would never give Sirius a glowing review, this was as close as it would get, but his self-satisfied smirk was hard to contain.
"And Lily is obviously taking potions," Sirius had offered, mostly as a way of thanking her. "You were in the Slug-Club, and you know how the old fuck loves his pure-blood nepotism babies"
And so on. Remus was chosen for Care of Magical Creatures, ("They always respond to him, it's mental," had explained Marlene to James.) Marlene for astronomy ("You just want to smoke your spliffs up in that tower, Mckinnon."), and Sirius for general knowledge, as previously decided.
And then came the bad.
"Well of course we can't have Tweedledee and Tweedledum conduct the DADA course. They'll end up blowing James to bits," had said Lily.
"I very much object to being blown to bits," piped James. The corners of his lips lifted in a raffish grin, "I wouldn't be opposed to have my bits–"
"Gross. Also, hey! I take offence to that statement! Sirius and I are exceptional at Defence."
Remus cleared his throat, "yes, well, separately I'm inclined to agree. When you're together you tend to be more… What I mean to say is that the two of you have this…"
"Together you're menaces, borderline destructive, competitive, hot-headed and, frankly, annoying." Lily dismissed. "The Pri–, James would learn nothing from that environment. Remus, you could–,"
"I, uh, I don't think that's a great idea, Lily," Remus replied, strained.
"And you're quite shite at it, Evans. Face it," had mocked Sirius. "Mckinnon is the best at defensive spells, I'm the best at offensive. We're teaching him."
Sirius understood Remus’ reluctance to take on the task, of course. Remus’ magical ability was drastically affected by the positions and phases of the moon, especially when shit like the dark arts were involved. It became less manageable when the Full was near. Lily and Marlene were good people, they tried to help Remus every month, but they never could fully grasp that it wasn’t just transforming one night every few weeks and a little tiredness afterwards. Sirius could, though not instinctually. It took years of living with the man to recognise the signs of instability, and even more to understand what he could do to help, without the other one feeling weak or inferior. His help usually manifested in him being an arse to anyone who dared question Remus’ decisions, even if Sirius knew that they were right.
Which Lily wasn’t, by the way. Sirius and Marlene were the best at DADA. It was stupid to ignore that fact only because they liked to have fun at their jobs. It bothered Sirius to no end when Lily acted superior to him, as if he had nothing to offer in the group; as if he didn’t give up several incredible opportunities to work with them in H.E.L.P.; as if she hadn’t asked him to join.
In the end, matters were settled well enough. Marlene would teach Charms, Lily and Remus Herbology, and all of them would perform the psychological assessment. This was usually Marlene’s field, but with the close relationship she and James had, she feared she might not be best suited for the task.
Sirius knew he wasn’t the best teacher. He tried quite hard, but he couldn’t help but be frustrated when he explained something and his students didn’t understand him in one go. It was something that had followed him from Hogwarts; he was always one of the first in class to master charms and spells, and when asked to help his fellow classmates he’d usually end up giving up in minutes. It wasn’t maliciously done, something almost nobody believed, but from a place of genuine confusion. Now, years after Hogwarts, he typically relied on Marlene or Remus to help him when he couldn’t quite get his points across.
When it came to the practical aspects of the class, James did exceptionally well. Not only better than he, or anyone, could have expected from a person who hadn’t once been taught and who had no wand, but better than fully trained professionals. Not one task was performed badly by him, they weren’t even just passable results, they were spectacular.
When Sirius asked him to transform a hedgehog into a pincushion, James presented him with a gold and marble sculpture of a woman who appeared to be sewing the smallest portrait embroidery of a family; a man, a woman and a little boy sat between them, on a tiny cushion. In her hair, which seemed to be marble as well, she had about twenty sewing pins, arranged to form a colourful crown. To Sirius’ touch the hair was rigid, but when he stuck a pin on it, it had been as soft as fabric.
When he asked James to vanish several objects of increasing size, he did so with no apparent difficulty. Likewise, when he asked him to conjure random objects and insects, it only took a wave of his hands.
James was clearly showing off for him, and Sirius was revelling in it. Anything that meant having James' eyes on him was a win. The prince had an air of arrogance about him but, unlike most people's, it wasn’t exactly misplaced. Sirius would have rolled his eyes at it, had it not been for James’ skill and stupidly charming demeanour. It didn’t hurt that every time James finished a task he sent Sirius a cocky grin and sometimes even a wink. Sirius would, without fail, be tongue-tied every time. It wasn’t every day that the most beautiful, funny, brilliant Prince winked at him. Or smiled at him. Or talked to him. Or existed around him. Or…
Sirius was so fucked.
And the fact that he couldn’t stop the filthy thoughts that came to him whenever James showed him a sliver of attention was a problem.
Contrary to popular belief, he truly cared about the project, he wanted James to actually learn shit, so he made an effort to keep those thoughts out of his expression.
But honestly, who could blame him if he didn’t? Sirius had made it quite clear that he wanted James, that he found him painfully hot. What was worse, he now found him interesting, intriguing.
He wasn’t blind, he could tell that there was something off about the prince. Not only was the fact that the searching stares James would give him hadn’t subsided in the least, but also it was becoming increasingly obvious that he was weary of wands, spells. He flinched sometimes over the most innocuous things; certain words, sudden movements, loud noises. He would be lost in thought sometimes, eyes fixed on the wall or the floor, fingers twitching, breathing too measured. Every time someone mentioned it to him, he would wave them off with some excuse and an apology, a big smile on his face, eyes much too wide.
"Beg pardon, the wall has a stain on it. Carry on, you were saying?" or "Forgive me, I'm starving. Do you think we should ring for something to eat? A man cannot focus in such conditions."
There was another problem as well. James was becoming more and more flirty with each passing day. Not just with him, but with everyone. The rest just laughed it off, but Sirius noticed that there were patterns to James’ comments. Whenever Sirius caught sight of him looking nervous or uncomfortable, James’ expression would clear with an unnatural suddenness and he’d say something slightly teasing to whomever was there to receive it. This didn’t sit well with Sirius at all. Not only because he hated seeing James flirt with anyone but him, but because it was, to him, an obvious tactic of redirection. Or something. How could anyone just brush off the prince’s discomfort so easily? Or worse, how could anyone simply not notice?
Sirius had spoken with Marlene about it, with everyone, really. James had some issues, but nobody but Sirius and maybe Marlene, believed they were important enough to address quickly. Remus was more preoccupied with the academic aspect of the project, and Lily just wanted all this to be over. She was vocal about her dislike of the whole situation; she hated that they had to stay at the palace, the food, the fact that James wasn't particularly interested in learning or getting better, the long hours.
She was being quite unfeeling, Sirius thought. How could she not see that this was a person who needed help? No matter where he came from, he was struggling, and they had the means to alleviate some of the burden. She and Sirius had had a few disagreements on that front. How could she act so superior towards Sirius for 'not taking the job seriously' and then doing the exact same thing?
Remus was another story entirely. Sirius liked him; they were friends, but he had a tendency to not engage fully with anyone, but particularly the subjects of the project. Maybe it was out of self preservation, but Sirius thought that this job required a certain level of personal connection with the people they were trying to help. Remus always maintained a sort of teacher-student, strictly professional relationship with all of them, but failed to realise that this wasn't school; H.E.L.P. was founded to literally accompany magical folk who have been discarded and/or disregarded by the magical world. One cannot integrate a person into one's community with only an aloof demeanour and a few classes.
Minor hiccups aside, the class had been going well. Sirius could feel James losing interest in it, however. They had started chatting more than working, and Sirius couldn’t help himself from indulging James when he wanted to play and joke and avoid class topics. So, he decided to have a bit of a contest between Remus and him, with Sirius as ref. It had been somewhat selfish of him, for as much as he wanted James to learn, it wasn't his only motive. James' entire countenance lit up when he felt he'd done something to be proud of, it was truly a sight for sore eyes. Sirius felt himself taken in every time. He barely contained himself from blurting out the uncoolest remarks, such as calling James beautiful about fifty times per class, or worse, asking him if he could touch his cheeks. The last one was embarrassing even in his thoughts. Sirius had never once wanted to touch someone’s face before. The desire to do so felt out of place, he wanted to bed the prince, maybe hold his hand sometimes, and go on dates, and perhaps he thought it might be nice to fall asleep next to him, and to talk to him all the time. But he certainly did not want to romance him, he lied to himself. But James’ cheeks had been right there, they looked soft and warm and slightly pinked. It was just wanting to test a theory. He didn’t actually ask, though.
In any case, the contest was arranged, finally. It would consist of a complicated bit of magic called Untransfiguration, which James hadn’t tried yet, and an area in which Remus was rather skilled due to all the experience he got thanks to Sirius’ tendency to experiment on everything he came across during their time at Hogwarts. To untransfigure something one must revert the current state of the object to its original state. It helps knowing what it actually was before, but it’s not strictly necessary. It was technically an undoing of magic, as it dealt with the results of previous spells, rather than the factors. Many students found it difficult, as all they’d been taught was the direct path to something, not the opposite one.
To make it more challenging, Sirius had transfigured two identical objects several times, creating layers of sorts. Remus and James would have to focus on every detail to undo the spells; it wouldn’t do anything to simply cast a ‘finite’ and have it over with.
James had been rather ecstatic about the idea, citing it as a brilliant opportunity to show off. His words.
Sirius had arranged everything, from the transfigured objects to the placement of the desks. He wanted everything to be perfect, to boast of his talent as a teacher, to have both James and Remus having fun, to learn more about James, to see James smile with radiating pride if he won and to console him if he lost, to have James…
The point was, he arranged everything, to the T. James and Remus would be side by side, so as to have a clear view of what the other one was doing but not facing each other so as to not make James uncomfortable with the possibility of Remus' wand pointed at him.
“I reckon you think this is a clever scheme, to get me to engage with the class and all, but it’s just not necessary. This subject’s got quite the grip on me, don't you know? Although some might say it’s actually the professor,” said James when he walked in, smirking. Sirius would be lying if he said that he didn't feel his cheeks heat instantly.
Remus tutted disapprovingly at James before speaking, "should we get right to it then, sir?"
"How many times, Remus? It's James!"
Remus didn’t answer him, Sirius snickered. Of course he’d be pressed about having a student flirt with a teacher. James was their age for Merlin’s sake!
“James, I’ve explained the basics of untransfiguration to you already. Would you like to go over it again?” James shook his head and narrowed his eyes at Remus, playful. “Good. Remember, if any of you reach the original state of the object, you win. If none of you do in the ten minutes I grant you, the one who's closest to it wins." Both agreed with silent nods. "Do you want to know what the final object is?” Remus said yes, James declined. Sirius whispered the answer to Remus and went on. “Alright then, you have ten minutes starting… now!”
Immediately they both started working on their desks. First it was an invisibility spell, then an intangibility one. James was quicker with the former, Remus with the latter. This revealed for each a rather large musical instrument that Sirius had seen once but didn't catch the name of. James spent about two minutes examining the instrument, touching it, closing his eyes and weighing it, blowing on it.
"Do you know how to play it?" James asked. He was almost always speaking, smiling or joking around. Where did he get all the energy from? It was astounding. Sirius would have been tired of his chatter minutes after meeting him for the first time, if James' voice hadn't been so lovely to listen to. "I don't know how to play this. Is it wrong that I want to clear out my whole year and have someone teach me how to play it?" Sirius was about to protest, when James continued very quietly, "dad used to play the sarangi."
The melancholic tone sent a pang of hurt to Sirius' stomach. James was clearly fond of his fath–, his dad. What was it like, thought Sirius, to remember your parents with anything other than resentment and hate?
Remus looked as if he’d already won the contest and was trying to be humble about it. He was failing miserably. Obviously he hadn't heard James' little comment about his dad, too determined to win, still. He had already unmade the transformation of the instrument, turning into another one, a ukulele, then into a small wooden table that looked deceptively simple, then into an iron chair, and so on. There was still a long way to go, but he was getting closer to the end.
"Of course, I'm too stubborn to abandon anything halfway. And I might be a little too competitive for my own good. Or for yours, Mr. Lupin, in this case." As he spoke, he’d started disassembling the sarangi, not fully piece by piece, but almost. Remus had about five more transfiguration spells to untangle. James had about twenty three. “When I find some things difficult to figure out, not that it happens often, mind you, I try to look at them with a new perspective. The ‘bigger picture’ isn’t my favourite thing in the world. I rather find the small pieces that make up the whole, rather than the other way around.”
Sirius was bemused. What was James doing? He was going to lose! Remus was nearly finished and they had less than four minutes left.
James arranged the parts in neat rows, from biggest to smallest. He closed his eyes and placed his hands in the air above them and…
It’d been strange. One moment, the pieces had been just that, pieces. Unmoving parts of a transfigured, disassembled musical instrument. The next, all the parts started emitting sad tones, trembling and shivering, as if alive, while spewing jets of light that concentrated in a ball of light, sat atop the back of the prince’s hands. Sirius couldn’t look away. It was fascinating, enthralling, beautiful. But Sirius couldn’t shake the feeling that this was wrong. Not exactly in execution, maybe, but something about James performing this undoing. One look in James' face told him that he was not enjoying this at all; furrowed brows, pursed lips, clenched jaw.
The music sounding around them took a desperate, painful tone. Sirius didn’t understand why, but right then he'd wanted to envelop James into a hug and reassure him that everything was alright.
James' eyes were still closed, but he kept speaking, slower now, as if it took effort.
"Now, I don't pretend to understand magic the way you all do. Also, Remus, I couldn't explain what you're doing under threat of death, so I will not even try right now. I only hope that I can complete this task adequately for you, Mr. Sirius."
Even Remus was distracted from his object, a golden mirror now, three more to go, by the blinding rays that James was creating.
Then, the pieces, James, the brightness, the music, they all stopped. Sirius was sure that nobody was breathing.
A crack, as if broken glass, resounded in the room.
And there it was. The original state of the object. A glass cup, full of sweets. The winner’s prize.
“Done.”
“Wait, what? But you didn’t–, didn’t even–, I undid all these–. What the fuck?!”
Remus cursing in the job was such a rare occurrence that it shook Sirius out of his befuddled state.
“I, uh, he’s right,” he said carefully. “He did it. Thirty seconds to spare, too.”
"Well that's just unfair. You said we couldn't use finite. You said that it wouldn't have worked."
"What's a 'finite'?"
"He didn't, Remus. You were doing it exactly as it should've been done, I have no idea what James did though. I, uh. James, what did you do? Could you explain how you did this?"
James looked down, as if chastised. Sirius felt even more confused. "I, I apologise. Was that wrong? Did I cheat? I didn't mean to cheat. I just–, I'm not sure. I just did what felt easy. You can have the win, Remus. I'm truly sorry."
James' voice was almost trembling. Out of fear? That doesn’t make any sense, thought Sirius. Why would he be afraid? This was just a game.
There was something so wrong about having the prince be afraid, or unsure. He projected such confidence, such self assurance, such light. Sirius had seen through some of it already, but it still made his heart clench whenever he did. It was unnatural, is what it was. James Potter scared, hesitant? It was as if some cruel deity had twisted reality and warped everything about him, his very identity.
Remus seemed to sense James' discomfort, for once. He rushed to reassure him. Nobody could say that Remus Lupin was a bad loser.
"It's alright, James. Can I ask what you thought when you undid the magic?" He had asked. When James didn't answer, only let his eyes up to Sirius' and fixed them on Remus a moment later, he continued, "did you, by chance, think something along the lines of 'stop the magic'? Or perhaps 'undo the spells'?"
James' eyes flitted to Sirius' once again, a question in them. Sirius wished he knew how to answer.
"I didn't, no." James responded. "I just sensed the magic in the instrument and… placed it somewhere else."
If Sirius had been paying attention to anything other than James, perhaps he would have noticed the calculating expression on Remus' face.
As it was, he could only notice how James set about to pushing every unsettling thought or feeling from his expression.
"Right, so. I take it class is finished? I'd love to go and–,"
"There's still quite a bit of time until your next class, isn't there?" Interrupted Remus. "Now that we know where you're at with magical ability, if not theory, I'd like to go over some of the… issues we keep encountering in every class. I am, of course, talking about wands."
Sirius turned to him with mistrust, "Remus, what are you–?"
"Just. Let me," he answered. "Please?"
Sirius conceded with a warning look. James was already on edge, it would do no good to push him again.
"I'm not sure if it's necessary," said James. "I really see no use for a wand right now. I can't… I mean, I don't want to use one."
"I might have some information that may change your mind," Remus answered as threw a smile in Sirius' direction. "Has anybody explained to you what wands are made of? I didn't think so. You said that you were interested in the parts that make up a whole, isn't that right?" James nodded slowly, as if sensing a trap, "Well, wands are not just wooden sticks. They're made of wood, usually, but the most important part of them is their core. Have mine, for example. My wand is cypress wood, which, supposedly, symbolises those who are unafraid of confronting the 'shadows in their own and others' natures'." A wry, sad smile had appeared on his face. Sirius understood why; Remus was terrified of confronting his own darkness, and he felt hypocritical when he was forced to do it with others'. "But that's not exactly why my wand is so good to me, so necessary. It chose me, you see, because of its core. A unicorn hair core, which is typically associated with the most reliable wands, the most grounding ones. They tend to repudiate dark magic, they're the most loyal as well. Do you see what I mean? My wand isn't just a tool, nor is it just an extension of my body or my magic. It's a friend; a companion. It can help you realise some things about yourself. You don't need to have one, but it really would help you understand your magic and yourself rather than only using it for convenience or… party tricks."
"I just–, well, I'm not sure if I–,"
"James, you don't need to talk about this if you're unwilling, but I do think that it's important that you learn to use a wand for another reason. Many communities around the world get by without them, you see. And I wouldn't be pressing the issue if that was your reason, but I believe your reluctance comes from a place of fear. I do not pretend to know what's made you resistant to hold one, what makes you weary when someone's got one around you, but if my line of thinking is at all correct, then it's because you've had a wand wielded at you in the past, with heinous intent. I believe that you need to learn that wands are not evil, they don't cause harm by themselves. It's the caster and their intent that causes harm sometimes. Do you understand?"
"Yes, I–," James cleared his throat, "Yes, I think so. I'll think about it. I promise. Only, could you not… mention it to anyone yet?"
Merlin bless Remus Lupin, thought Sirius. Who knew that a few well placed words were all that was needed for James to cave? They'd been trying to get him to agree for days now. This only solidified Sirius' belief that Remus was the best teacher of the group.
Two days later found Sirius answering a knock on the door of his room, revealing a dishevelled looking James Potter, running a hand through his curls.
"Well hello there," he smirked at James, "to what do I owe this visit?"
"Hi, Sirius. I, uh, wanted to ask, well, I thought you might know…"
"Yes?"
"Where would someone go if they wanted to… buy a wand?" The words seemed to not want to come out of the prince's mouth. Still, Sirius was overjoyed. Remus, you bastard! He'd done it. He'd really done it.
"All of us got ours at Ollivander's, in Diagon Alley. There's another shop in Hogsmeade as well, but it's basically the same thing."
"Oh. Great! Thank you, bye!" James turned around, but before he could take another step Sirius' laughter stopped him.
"Do you know how to get to any of those places, James?" He pressed his lips to hide his amusement, "They're not easily accessible via muggle transportation. I'm not even sure they're in any muggle maps."
"Oh right, hah, silly me. I… don't." James laughed. "I was going to ask Marlene but now that I think about it… Would you like to come with me? We could have a drink too, if you wanted. Show me some of that wizarding life everybody keeps trying to teach me?"
Sirius could have sworn he lifted off the ground a bit. This was unfathomable, James was asking him out?
"With Marlene?" He asked, just in case.
"I was thinking just me and you? I'd like to know you a little better," he smiled, and Sirius did not swoon, not even a little. The mere suggestion would be outrageous.
"I, uh, sure, I'd love to. I mean. I, um. Not love, love, just, I'd like that. I mean, yeah, let's. Not like–,"
"Does… right now work for you?" Asked James, amused.
"Right now?! No!" Sirius answered, half hysterical. Right now would not be a good time. His hair was a nest and he was wearing his work uniform! He didn't even have his jewellery on! He tried to calm down. "We’re going tomorrow. I need Evans, now. Move over!"
He ran out of the room, leaving a stunned, half laughing James behind him.
Why was this stupid palace so large? He complained in his thoughts. He'd gone through about a hundred corridors, about as many doors and took double the turns. On the way he found Marlene chatting up a guard, grabbed her by her robes and dragged her to Lily's room, not without many protestations from her part.
"Emergency," he announced as he entered Lily's without knocking. In a second, they both had their wands out and looking murderous. "Oops, not that kind of emergency. 'I've got a date with a really very incredibly hot prince and I’ve got no idea what to wear for the occasion' emergency."
"No you don't," said Marlene. "You have no date because I told you to not even think about it. Also, since when do you go on dates? I thought your whole thing was to find someone to fuck in dimly lit pubs."
"But Marls, he asked me!"
"He asked you out?" Lily's disbelief was rather hurtful.
"Yes, he said he wanted to get a wand so–,"
"He's getting a wand?! Why didn't you tell us before!"
"He's just decided!" Sirius defended himself, "And anyway, that's not important. We're having a date, that's the important part."
"Wait. So your date is an… errand?"
"No!" Sirius thought about it a little, "well, yes. But still. Do you know how hard I've been trying to pull him? I'm even going on a date with the man. I hardly ever date."
"I'm going with. I can't tell him not to go, he needs to get that wand, but I don't trust you, Black."
"James sort of said it'd be just us two."
"Do I look like I care?"
"Marls, calm down. Sirius, how did he ask you? I mean, did he say the word 'date'?"
Sirius was about to scream. They were wasting time. He needed all hours of the night, probably, to get ready for the next day. But then Lily's words registered. He had said 'date', right? Sirius' ears wilted a little.
"He didn't. But! He did say he wanted to get to know me better!"
"Did he say 'get to know you' or just 'know you'?"
"Lily, babe, what do you want from me? Do you just hate seeing me happy? He said he'd like to know me better," Sirius answered sullenly.
"I just don't want you to get your hopes up for nothing, he said something similar to Remus last week. I don't think he meant anything romantic by it."
Marlene must have sensed the shift in his mood, for instead of objecting to the not-date, she actually helped him pick an outfit. Lily assisted him in learning that stupid eyeliner charm that he couldn’t for the life of him learn properly.
It was a very subdued Sirius who went to bed early that night.
Hopes definitely crushed, Sirius met James by the entrance hall, ready to go. If Sirius hadn’t been exposed to his presence by now, he probably would have keeled over when he took in James’ appearance. Merlin, he looked hot enough to burn in that outfit.
James was wearing off-white trousers and a stupidly snug dark blue t-shirt and, and…
He was wearing robes. Beautiful, velvet, wine coloured robes.
As a rule, robes were not something Sirius found even remotely appealing. Everybody had worn robes when he was a child, even himself. His school years, filled with hormones and uniforms, had consisted of trying to get someone out of the robes. Even now, fully an adult, the sexiest part about robes was someone taking them off of him.
As previously established, however, James wasn’t very good at moulding into Sirius’ likes and dislikes. James was golden, where Sirius had always preferred silver. And yet, James pulled him in like no other person had ever done. He didn't know how to act around such feelings; he'd never learned.
He hadn't been prepared for the sight of the prince wearing clothes that very much resembled the ones he himself wore, is all.
So it wasn't a date date. Maybe it was a 'let's go shopping for a wand in a strictly professional way' date. Or maybe a 'let's go shopping for a wand and then have a drink as friends' date. Still, Sirius perked up, a date is a date. The possibility of one-on-one interactions with James, no buffer, no Lily supervising classes, no Remus' disapproving face, no Marlene's threatening presence, was appealing in and of itself.
“Why are you wearing robes?” Sirius asked by way of hello.
"Do I look very ridiculous?" James looked self-conscious and, paradoxically, confident as fuck. "I did ask Lily for advice, figured she'd know about this things, and she'd not be as willing to lie to me and have everyone laugh at me as Marls would have."
"You asked Lily for advice for the outfit? Why?" Sirius' heart felt funny. Had James wanted to look good for him?
"Yes, well… I noticed that wizards and witches have a different style than my world. I wanted to sort of… blend in. It can be hard, sometimes, going out in public." They started walking towards the exit, matching steps, Sirius noted.
Sirius wanted to kick himself. Of course James wasn't thinking about him, he was just being cautious about being recognised as a Prince, as a member of the Royal Family.
He hadn't given much thought about that aspect of James' life before. How hard was it, to be such a public figure? Notoriety in the Wizarding World wasn't as difficult to achieve, as the population was so small and insular, but, he suspected, it must be much easier to deal with than literally millions of people knowing you and following basically your every move.
"There are spells to alter your features for a little while," he offered. "Glamours and the like. They're not transfigurative spells, they wear off with time. Usually a few hours, at most." Even before he’d finished speaking he knew that James would decline. It occurred to Sirius that James was more stubborn than he was practical.
“Thank you, but no. I’d rather face the consequences of being me than… pretending otherwise.”
Though not surprising, exactly, this answer rather stuck with Sirius. The sincerity with which he spoke, the depths that the words held, but also how it wasn’t always true.
James was not alright. Maybe to the casual observer he was a happy person, but Sirius had studied him, probably more than he should have; he knew that there was something deeply wrong with him. Something that James kept hidden, even from his closest and most beloved friend.
Maybe to call such a statement a lie was going too far. James was a happy person overall. He was bubbly and honest and cheeky and so, so lovely. He was a good friend to Marlene, he was mindful of others’ boundaries, he was inviting and warm and all things good. But to say that he was one hundred percent open was not right.
They decided that they’d be going to Hogsmeade, as it wouldn’t be as full as Diagon Alley, via Knight Bus. Either way, they couldn’t have the bus appearing in front of the palace; not only would it attract too much attention, but it would also raise questions from Ernie, the absolutely too-nosy driver.
If Sirius had been wondering how James’ notoriety manifested itself in his daily life, he got his answer entirely too soon.
They hadn’t advanced many steps out of the side door of the Gardens when a shrill scream, followed by about a hundred million flashes, assaulted them. At first, Sirius thought that they were being attacked by magical folk, but soon realised that it was cameras that the thirty or so people were holding. He chanced a look at James, who seemed resigned for a millisecond, then put on a blinding smile that definitely did not reach his tired eyes.
"Prince James! What do you have to say about the allegations of–,"
"Prince James, Prince James! Could we get a picture for Hello Magazine?"
"Here, look here!"
The cacophony was unbearable. Still, when James spoke through his teeth, fake smile unwavering, Sirius understood him perfectly.
“Ready to run, Sirius?”
“I–, I beg your fucki–,” That was as far as Sirius got, for James didn’t even hesitate to grab his hand and pull, already sprinting towards the left.
Sirius was not dressed for this shit.
They ran for what felt like hours and seconds both. The screams of the photographers, drowned by the screams of crazed teenagers begging James for one chance, not that Sirius blamed them, which were drowned again by the sounds of a busy street.
And yet, Sirius could register almost none of it; his hand on James' hand, both running, panting for breath and, after a while, laughing, was exhilarating. Every once in a while James would turn his head and smile at Sirius, and Sirius would smile right back, giggling, feeling giddy with joy and lingering shock, as if they weren't running from something, but just because. As if they were running for the sake of it, for the sake of being young and carefree. It was too easy to imagine that this wasn't a necessity, but a game.
Sirius pulled them both to a stop in a deserted alley, to catch their breaths. Neither him, nor James let go of the other's hand.
"How do you feel about being on the cover of muggle magazines, Si?"
Sirius tried not to preen after the nickname. James was probably still breathless, he probably hadn't meant to give Sirius a nickname and make his stomach tingle with dancing fairies.
"Magazines, really? But we didn't do anything. We were just leaving your home!"
"Yes, well. It just so happens that that is enough for a few photos to be taken, but us running away from them like that… it's going to be spinned into a story, you're probably my newest romantic liaison by now in the eyes of the public. Maybe something more nefarious than that, maybe you'll be my drug dealer or something. I'm sorry." Regret and bitterness weren't things that Sirius had been accustomed to hearing from James, but they were plain as day now. Sirius ached to reassure him, but knew not how.
"It's alright, I'm pretty enough to be in some magazine I think. If it is your beauty that worries you, you should rest easy. You're yummy," he quipped instead.
"Thanks, I, uh. Hold on, yummy?" James choked.
"Yeah, like a… like a Pepper Imp. Or a Sugar Quill. But for the eyes. You know? Maybe to the taste, who's to say. Can I try you?"
"Try me? I'm so confused right now. You lost me at Pepper."
"Well, like a blood lolly, then."
"Now you're just using words."
Sirius offered an impish smile, "how about the words 'let me lick you, please Prince James?'" He batted his eyelashes.
James only laughed in response, eyes crinkling softly. Oh, James. What you're doing to me, thought Sirius.
"You didn't say no."
"I didn't agree, either. Where can we take this mysterious bus? Do you know any stops?"
Sirius swallowed his disappointment, there'd be plenty of time to flirt with James later. "Silly prince, it stops where you call it!" he said. He took his wand out and lit a Lumos charm.
And there it was again, that look of hidden trepidation on the prince's expression, eyes fixed on the wand. Sirius had taken care to point somewhere else entirely, so James didn't feel threatened, but it was no use. He hoped Remus was right, and that having a wand of his own helped James realise that wands were not made for hurting.
Two seconds later, the Knight Bus arrived. James' expression cleared, and soon they were off.
Luckily, the bus didn't have many stops until Hogsmeade, so the threat of spew coming out of any of them was quite small. Never non-existent, though, not with Ernie's driving.
The whole trip consisted in James asking questions and Sirius answering to the very worst of his ability.
"It's quite simple, James. The bus picks up anyone who asks for it and then they are taken to wherever it is they want to go. It's not inexpensive, but people get by." Sirius explained. He knew that this didn't quite cover it, but it was funny seeing James try to be polite about it.
"I understand that, but how–,"
"How do people ask for it? By using a Lumos charm, you saw me do it, right?" James was turning a funny red colour by now.
"Yes. I did. Still, doesn't explain how –,"
"Ah, how to use a Lumos charm. Again, quite simple. I'll show you when you get your wand." James’ eye twitched. Sirius pressed his lips together to hold his laughter.
"Oh God," breathed James, seemingly arming himself with patience, "What I mean to ask is, we were near the palace, and suddenly we're–,"
"On the bus? Yes, James. That tends to happen when you hop ona bus. Are you quite alright?" Asked Sirius, mock concern permeating his voice.
James' eyes narrowed, "you're being infuriating on purpose, Si, aren't you?"
Oh, that ‘Si’ again. He was going to melt if James kept that up.
"Excuse me, you, boy. You look like someone… can't put my finger on it." Said the helper. "Did you call him James?" Sirius shook his head quickly. "No, you did. Oi Ernie! Who do we know that's called James?"
"Nevermind that," Sirius said sharply. The helper yelped. "I paid for a ride, not to be participants in a lookalike contest. This is taking too long. I insist you tell me when we're arriving."
The helper left their side amidst many apologies and 'one second, sir's. Sirius breathed in relief, but when he turned to James, the look on his face made him tense up again. It was the now familiar, searching gaze he often wore, but something else as well. Sirius didn’t like it one bit.
"You needn't have spoken to him like that, Sirius. He was only curious. I didn't mind." James' tone wasn't sharp; he spoke rather softly, disappointed, which hurt so much worse.
He'd been trying to help him, not annoy him. It was rare, when someone called Sirius out on his attitude toward people. Nobody had ever called him out like that, though. Everyone else’s reproaches came from a pace of anger, irritation or fear. It was unheard of that he'd feel chastised over it. Speaking down to others or intimidating them were usually tactics he'd use to have people leave Remus alone about his lycanthropy, Lily’s blood status, Marlene’s oddities; all the Black family entitlement in his words and a hint of darkness in his eyes was all that it took for people to back off.
Sirius had never learned any other way to defend his friends. He knew everybody considered him too blunt, too dark, too aloof, he had never cared. He fed into it, most of the time. It’d been a point of contingence with his fellow Hufflepuffs. They too had been all about loyalty, but all that they offered was a silent type of support; they rarely stood up to anyone, ‘kill them with kindness’ and all that bullshit. Sirius preferred to defend by attacking. Nobody wanted to have an angered Black against them, plus most people were cowards. Show them some teeth and they drew back.
Now he wondered if this wasn’t always the best choice.
It wasn’t that James had disapproved, or, not entirely. It was that he understood where James was coming from. The helper had been curious, and maybe a little rude, but he hadn’t considered that when he sent him away. He had only wanted to avoid James being put in the spot.
James was looking away from him now. The Scottish countryside was rolling through the window. Sirius swallowed his stubbornness and placed a hand on James’ shoulder.
“You’re right, I’m sorry.”
James turned slowly to face him, mistrusting. He must have found sincerity in his face, for his eyes softened a little and he flashed a small smile.
“Didn’t know you knew what those words meant,” he said.
“Yes, well. Don’t get too comfortable. They don’t cross my lips very often.”
“Should I be flattered?”
“Most definitely.”
The first thing they did upon arrival was go to Ollivander’s. The place had always given Sirius the creeps, but he imagined it was nothing like the discomfort James must have felt.
Rows upon rows of piled up wands in different boxes were displayed all around. There was a smell of magic in the air. Potential magic, perhaps. All those cores together in one place were a safety hazard, surely. His skin tingled with it.
“Is it just me, or is this place ominous as fuck?” Asked James, breaking the weird tension that had built. Sirius’ laugh echoed.
“Not just you. Luckily, you shouldn’t have to come often. Well, unless you’re exceptionally good at breaking wands.”
“Is that a challenge?” Said James, mischievousness glinting behind his glasses.
“I sure hope not,” answered Ollivander.
“Shit! Fuck! Sorry! You ought to wear a bell, mate.”
Sirius burst out laughing. Was this the same dignified Prince that had received Marlene’s fists with composure and sweetness only two weeks prior? Every new facet of James that he discovered was like a present to Sirius.
“Mr. Ollivander, good to see you,” he said when he calmed down.
“Ah, dragon heartstring, cedar, 13½ inches. How’s it faring?”
“Well enough.” Sirius never enjoyed Ollivander’s company. He may be the best wandmaker, but he had no sense of personal space or privacy. It was best to keep it short. “This is… my friend, James. He’s looking–,”
“Obviously. Let’s see, Prince James, what shall we do with you?”
Sirius rolled his eyes. Pretentious fucker. James looked a little alarmed at being recognised so, but he hid it well with a blinding smile and charming introductions.
He was shown quite a few wands, asked many invasive questions, until they found his match.
Sirius tried to gauge James' state of mind, having to manipulate wands, being surrounded by them, having one crazy-eyed-wizard waving one around like mad, but he found… nothing. It was incredible how he did that, hid everything out of sight.
Sure, he was smiling pleasantly and his voice was firm, but that meant nothing to Sirius, for he couldn't be sure that it wasn't an act. Actually, he was quite sure that it was, but he didn't know what he couldn’t see. A tremor in his right hand was all that Sirius could find that betrayed any kind of unease.
“Dragon heartstring, applewood. Unusual, but quite powerful if treated with respect and confidence. It does not take well to the feeble minded. Handle it well, Princeling.”
“Christ,” James breathed out, once they were three blocks away from the shop, “is he always that intense?”
“That was him reigning it in. Shall we walk around? We could also have a drink, if you wanted.”
“I want to see everything.”
"Then you're in good hands, James."
They visited every single shop in Hogsmeade. Sirius decided to start with Scrivenshaft's, as he thought that school and office supplies would be rather boring, and make their way up from there.
Merlin, how wrong he was.
James entered the shop as if he owned it, confident, focused, almost with a scholarly approach. This went out the window the second he set eyes on the first row of quills. He jumped from display to display, with no apparent rhyme or reason. Whatever caught his eye, he wanted to observe, touch, examine. He giggled when Sirius wrote naughty phrases on disappearing ink, he drew on his arms and on Sirius', he drew a surprisingly accurate map of his palace in colour changing ink, he blew on that new powdery thing that spelled things in the air as if it had been transformed into parchment. His amazement was endearing, his smile was blinding. For once, James looked completely distracted from his own head, and Sirius was enraptured by it.
It made Sirius' heart feel lighter, having him so enthralled, so carefree. But also. When was the last time that he himself felt so at ease? When was the last time he allowed himself to be silly just for the laughs? He felt like a little child, but not the kind of child he had been forced to be. He felt like the kind of child that was allowed to be free and happy and playful.
Even though he was clearly interested in everything around, James never let the items engross him entirely. He made sure to ask Sirius questions, got him to use the quills and the inks and the parchments, he listened to Sirius' opinions, he laughed with his stories.
"This is incredible, Si! You've got to try it. It writes on parchment and paper and glass and metal and wood and water and…"
"And you got away with it? How did they not notice! I triple check every essay I submit. I never would have handed in an essay full of curse words! You would have had a hard time pranking me at school, I bet. And how did you learn that spell? And did you spell all of their quills? And did they retaliate?"
Sirius wasn't a strictly lonely person, he had friends, he went out, he spoke with people. But he couldn't remember a time when someone he didn't know very well had had a conversation with him just to know him, no ulterior motives. Even his friendships with Remus and Marlene felt somewhat transactional, though to a lesser degree than it had been at Hogwarts.
The very few customers they came across at the shops stole glances at them from time to time, some even tried to engage James in flirty chats, but one look at Sirius sent them scampering away as if they’d been hit by expulsos. James didn’t even notice.
Two hours later found them at Zonko's. Admittedly, Sirius had been excited to show James all the prank items that were sold there, but once again he was surprised.
"I don't like the thought of using pre-made pranks, though. It feels disingenuous, somehow. I'd much rather concoct the plan and execution with my friends, you know? Although I have to admit, those room tilting devices are rather cool. I bet we could do that though, you and me?"
Sirius didn't want to, but he fixated on the words. You and me, James had said. Why did it sound so lovely? James and Sirius. It was music.
He definitely didn't stutter, "s-sure, we, uh, you and me, hm. Could. Do that." Bollocks. Sirius didn't know this feeling for himself; he'd seen it and caused it in other people, but not experienced it from this side. He was flustered. Because of a man. Every time James spoke to him, it left him giddy and warm, heart sprinting and, oh Merlin how embarrassing, sighing.
Even when he tried to fluster James, the prince would turn it right back around or simply laugh that soft laugh of his and change the subject.
It was infuriating.
A few times throughout the day, Sirius would find James lost in thought, a small frown wrinkling his forehead. As fast as it came, it went away, however. Sirius let it slide. They weren’t working right now, they were in a not-date. James would tell him if he wanted to.
Their next stop was Dervish and Banges.
If Sirius had thought that James was excited at Scrivenshaft's, it had been nothing compared to D&B.
The place was nothing exceptional, really. Just a shop with some useful and some useless magical items. But, Sirius was learning, things couldn’t stay uninteresting and commonplace when one James Potter was involved.
Even though he had grown up with most of this shit, Sirius felt awed by all the things that magic could accomplish. Seeing his world through James’ eyes was inspiring, rather than dull.
If literally anybody else had been as excited as James was with a pair of Omnioculars, Sirius would have rolled his eyes and tutted, most likely. As it was, Sirius was hopelessly endeared.
The fact that James kept on a steady chatter throughout the whole perusing of the shelves probably helped as well. He explained how muggles got by without these artefacts, compared their usefulness and efficiency with their counterparts, mocked the ones that were too over the top, asked questions about the ones that weren’t obvious at first glance. He made jokes, and smiled and was an all around lovely person to be around.
Sirius excused himself for a moment for a quick fag, and when he got back he found James and the shopkeeper having an animated conversation over a… remembrall?
The obvious interest that the shopkeeper was showing James was disgusting. There was no reason for him to keep touching James’ arm like that!
“What did I miss, dear?” He asked James, placing a hand on his shoulder and fixing his eyes to where the shopkeeper was squeezing James’ arm.
“Si! Tell me you see my point, please!” Said James. “This is supposed to tell you when you’ve forgotten something, but what help is it if you can’t remember what you forgot! It’s useless!”
“Very right you are, it is useless,” Sirius answered, stepping closer to him so that their sides pressed against each other. Fixing his eyes on the shopkeeper with the last word, he continued. “But many things are, you see, in this shop. Some of these things may think they have a chance to be… more, but really, they’re only reaching above their station and, frankly, do not deserve your attention.”
James looked at Sirius, confused. The shopkeeper slowly lowered his hand and retreated to the other side of the counter cautiously.
He tried to compose himself, fixed his robes, cleared his throat and said “shall I ring these up for you, then?”
“If it’s not too much trouble,” answered James.
“Actually, I remembered that we already have these at home. Let’s go for a drink now, yes?” Without waiting for a response he led James out of the shop.
“Oh, alright then, bye Thaddeus!” James threw over his shoulder. Of course he’d got his name, Sirius thought derisively. Then, to Sirius, in a lower tone he said, “I’m sorry, were you very bored? I suppose this must be tedious for you, being surrounded by magic all the time.”
“It was fine, James. I just wanted a drink,” Sirius sighed.
Oblivious, James kept apologising until they were sat at a table in the Three Broomsticks, and only then, he stopped because Sirius got up to order.
He and James spent the rest of the day talking about everything. It was incredible, but it was as if they connected on some weird level; they matched each other. No topic was left hanging, there were no confused silences, nothing. Sports and books and etiquette lessons and friends and pranks and school and magic. Even though he knew that this wasn’t a real date, it certainly felt like one. And a damn good one at that; it was going wonderfully. Filled with casual touches and warm laughter. If it had been a date, Sirius would have thought it’d been perfect.
As James spoke, Sirius thought, for the millionth time, how was it possible to be so beautiful, so bright, so full of life? Everything about James, even in those moments when he was weary, was pure spirit.
“How come you’ve got so much energy, still?” He asked, and knew instinctively that it had been the wrong thing to say.
He watched in dismay how James toned down his enthusiasm, how he retreated into himself a little, lowering his hands from where they’d been gesturing animatedly through his speech.
‘No, don’t stop,’ he wanted to say. ‘I didn’t mean it was a bad thing!’ He wanted to explain.
“God, you must be exhausted,” said James, quieter now, smile still in place. “I’m not sure, if I’m being honest. I just enjoyed today so much. Should we go back now?”
“No! No, I didn’t–, it was just an observation. I don’t want to–, not yet. Tell me, what was your favourite part of the day?” Sirius asked, trying to get James’ liveliness back.
“I know I can be a lot sometimes, Sirius. It’s alright.” He got up from his seat and offered his arm. They walked towards the train station arm in arm, silent.
Sirius tried to concentrate on the walk, or the sky, or anything, really, but the feel of his and James' arms entwined, of their sides brushing, of the occasional squeeze James would give with his arm. Sirius felt like having a full body shiver, but he couldn't allow it just yet. No need for James to know how much this stupid platonic touches were affecting him.
Sirius hated himself for being the reason why James lost his exuberance, even for a bit. How could he be so insensitive? He really needed to learn other ways of communicating, evidently he lacked tact, and it was something he now wanted to have.
“Sometimes,” James began after some time, “sometimes it’s too much. To be so… seen, in all the wrong ways. As if people were intentionally looking for things to criticise. It’s not often that I meet someone who doesn’t want anything from me but what I’m willing to give. I had a… my friend, he was a little like you in that sense. I thought about him a lot today. I reckon I was a little intense with you today because of it.” His voice was low now. As if he was sharing a secret with him. Sirius felt his heart clench, how could anyone see James and find fault in him? How could anyone see him and not want to be closer, to know him, to admire him, to give him some of the brightness that he radiated back to him? He continued, “Not in–, not in a way that you’d replace him, or anything. More of a sense of ease that you produce in me. It’s been–, I haven’t felt so free for a long time.”
Sirius reached for James’ hand with both of his own, sensing that he needed to feel grounded, somehow.
Sirius wasn’t a comforting person by nature. He was too jaded, he was severe angles and dark promises, but one look at James’ face made him want to be soft, to be soothing. He could do that for him. He could try. “What was your favourite part of today, James?” He murmured gently.
“I think… if I had to choose, I’d say the best part of today was spending time with you, away from the scrutiny of the public for once.”
He let out a heavy sigh, but when he looked straight into Sirius’ eyes he didn’t seem bitter, or sad. His eyes were soft, they seemed to be expressing gratitude. “Yeah, that was the best part of today.”