Chapter 7
Christmas was upon them before James had time to breathe, it seemed.
He felt a little bit wrong, having to forgo his friends and spend all that afternoon with his family and their stuffy Christmas do. It was always a grand affair, with many decorated trees and loads of people trying to make connections around the rooms. It was never interesting.
Christmas simply wasn't the same. It didn't feel as warm or as sweet as it was in James' memories. Sirius might understand, he thought. But Sirius didn't talk about his family. Ever. Not even a mention in passing. So James swallowed the urge to commiserate with him.
When James was a child, his Christmas days and nights consisted of celebrating with the Family, handing and receiving very proper, sometimes useful, very boring presents, followed by grand dinners and tedious conversations with various important figures of the moment.
Still, they'd held a sort of magic about them, for it was only for the clock to strike eight that the small Potter family would graciously say their goodbyes and run hastily to the Mckinnons'. In that wonderful home, the presents were jokes, toys, hysterically inappropriate cards. The crackers were always a show, the food infinitely more tasty, the company unsurpassable.
It was love, James knew, plus the benefit of hindsight, that made the before seem so, so much better.
But still, it wasn’t only nostalgia. The festivities had been happier before. Properly so. This wasn’t only the fault of having to grow up; there was something missing now, not only innocence but… He didn’t know what.
Those Christmases never failed to end in the brightest of notes, the kindest of memories.
And that is what they were now. Memories.
Now, there was nothing taking James away from the absolute beige of the Royal Family Christmas Ball.
There was no Monty, no Effie. No old Mckinnons nor little baby Mckinnons to brighten his day.
Now, there was only that Richard man who insisted on speaking incessantly to him about the future of the country and whatnot. He didn’t understand why they all tried to talk to him about the country. He wasn’t even the Crown Prince for fuck’s sake. His job was to–, well, he tried to make it his job to help people, but he couldn’t make actual changes by himself. He was just the lowly Prince, son of Euphemia, sister to the Crown.
James had been pondering on this topic, rather morosely, for days and days. He'd taken Sirius horse riding again, to take his mind off of it, but he suspected that the activity wasn't exactly to Sirius' taste now that it didn't involve as much opportunity to flirt scandalously, now that Sirius mounted his own horse; he knew the basics already.
Well, I'll see them after the party, James consoled himself. And really, the ball wasn't all that bad. Sure, the food was pretentious and the chatter was presumptuous and the company rather dull, but at least he had something to look forward to when it ended.
Sirius would spend Christmas at the palace, as would Marlene. Remus had said he had some previous engagements, but he'd be back before midnight. Lily was going to her parents', and didn’t seem too keen on it.
"My sister's a bit of a handful," she'd smiled wearily, voice a bit chirpy. "But family is family! And she's a sweetheart as well, when you…" she trailed off.
"Family can be family," James had said. "And sometimes family can come from other places. And that's fine too."
Sirius had looked at him with such intensity then, that he didn't really know how to respond. Of course, there was nothing to respond to, as Sirius hadn’t said a word, but it still felt somewhat heavy, that look.
James had been dressing himself before the ball, when someone knocked at his door for what seemed to be the fiftieth time that morning. Rolling his eyes, he yelled, “I can dress myself, Longbottom!”
The door opened anyway.
“Not Longbottom,” answered Sirius, startling him. He turned to face him, catching Sirius’ smirk, “not trying to dress you, either. If anything–,”
“Si! Hello!” James exclaimed. “Sorry, thought you’d be Frank; he never believes that I’m capable of looking presentable unless he’s supervising my attire. Did you need anything? I thought you’d be sleeping late today.”
Sirius looked bemused for a second, as if on the verge of asking something, but clearly thinking better of it.
He directed them towards the window seat.
“I wanted to… I had an idea. And I might need your help? Or, not help exactly. But participation. If you felt like it, of course." Sirius looked rather unsure, almost shy, which was a far cry from his usual 'too cool for facial expressions and fidgety mannerisms' thing. As if James would ever not want to follow any of Sirius' ideas; he'd known Sirius for a few months now and he knew for a fact that he'd agree to anything if it came from Sirius' lips.
"Shoot," answered James with what he hoped was a reassuring smile.
Sirius blushed a little, "It's about the presents thing that Lily proposed," he preambled.
"I'm listening," he leaned closer.
The ball had been disastrously, horrendously, uninteresting.
Up until the last fifteen minutes or so, of course, when his grandmother asked him about his doctor.
"What ever happened to him, James? He was here so often I recall. With the boy, the curly one," she'd said.
James had been in no state to answer quickly. It was so stupid, really. But the mere mention of his ‘doctor’ brought back all the memories he kept buried under tons of deflections and fake, photo smiles. Memories of cold tables and wrist and ankles restraints and so, so much pain. His mind was being invaded by someone who wasn’t him, his thoughts were being rifled through without his consent. He wanted it to stop.
Aunt Patty had come to the rescue then; she'd been one of the very few who'd tried to have the doctor sacked, with very little success. Obviously.
"Oh, mother. He got better! He's got no need for a doctor anymore," she'd said.
But his grandmother was in no rush to end the conversation, obviously. She probably hadn't noticed the way James' posture had become rigid, his smile rather fixed. Although, to be fair, nobody ever did. James himself rarely noticed it.
A thought of Sirius' inquisitive eyes fleeted through his mind. He always felt observed by Sirius; as if there was no fake smile that he didn't catch; no deflection unnoticed.
What's more, James didn't want to hide behind a facade of good humour with Sirius. He had the strange urge to explain himself every time that Sirius saw him like that.
Sirius hadn't been at the ball to occupy his mind fully, though.
Grandmother Olga was still droning on about the doctor, the doctor, the fucking doctor.
James was sure that he hadn't been a real doctor at all, but that's how he'd introduced himself to the Family. "To help James learn about himself," he'd said. "To understand his… peculiarities. To work on them to make them a little more palatable for the public."
James hadn’t needed help, exactly. Not that type of help, at least. It had been right when his parents died, he acted strangely because he was in mourning, not because he was unstable or unreliable. He'd been eleven.
"He resigned," he'd answered, excusing himself shortly after.
The rest of his night had been spent avoiding family members as one would the plague, chatting idly with so-called 'important people', distracting himself.
Still, he'd had half a mind to stomp away from the suffocatingly spacious room, right to Sirius' door and demanding a nightcap.
He hadn't. He'd been on his very best behaviour for a little while longer, then he'd just slunk away to his bed, alone and very lonely.
The next morning had brought no good humour for him either; there were still matters to arrange with the press. There always were, after such functions. Always a scandal to prevent, but never a bloody moment of respite from the cameras and the questions and the–, the attention. Always there had to be a lesser, more innocuous piece of news to put out, so the public didn’t hone in on matters of more importance or sordidness.
Sat around a table with no less than twenty people arguing about the best way to do damage control on the stupidest occurrences wasn’t his idea of fun.
Not when he had plans with the H.E.L.P. group.
James had started to feel unsettled by the afternoon; there were too many things to be handled, most of them matters of indiscretions that didn’t even involve him. Well, except a few. But still, at this pace he’d never leave before the wee hours, and he had promised his friends he’d meet them that night for drinks and presents! He’d promised Sirius!
He wanted to say ‘fuck it’ and be gone, honestly. He’d tried to excuse himself so many times now, that the last three the only response he’d got was a nasty look from Trinson, his P.R. manager.
James wasn’t one to disrespect people who were only doing their jobs, so he didn’t say ‘fuck it’. But he wasn’t one to back down either, which meant that at every opportunity he tried his luck again.
He didn’t want to be there; he wanted to be with Sirius. Well, with all of them of course. But especially Sirius. He chose not to dwell on the reason why.
A horrid thought persisted on popping in his mind, that maybe the group had started without him. That maybe if he didn’t show up then they'd probably do their own thing and leave him to his duties. That, perhaps, they'd only invited him to join because he lived in the same place as them.
He couldn’t blame them, if such was the case. The four of them had gone to school together; worked together; two and two lived together. He was just a stranger to them.
Except for Marlsly, of course. But he had neglected their correspondence for… years, probably. He didn’t love her any less, but he'd understand if she did.
It's not that James didn’t have other friends as well; Frank and Alice had worked in his team for years and years, Moody was a moody bastard but he knew that he adored him as an uncle, Edgar, Rupert, Daisy, Linda, all of them were friends of his, but–, well, Frank and Alice had a baby to worry about now, and another one on the way; Moody was always working, even when they shared a whisky or two, the rest lived in other estates, counties and countries, in Linda's case.
It had been too long since James had a close-proximity friendship with anyone. He thrived in seeing people every day. And he never thought he would ever find a friend like Sirius.
And the others, of course.
But–, Sirius.
Sirius, who always made him laugh with his ridiculous jokes and flirtatious comments. Sirius, with his eyes that seemed to speak for him. Sirius, who seeked him out whenever either one of them was free, just to hang out.
"Absolutely not, His Royal Highness will be branded as a–," Brin found James' eye and her face twitched a bit, "as a Lothario if you run that story."
The Prince rolled his eyes.
The meeting had gone long enough, well into the night in fact, when a shower of sparks blinded the room for a second, before being plunged into darkness, halting the conversation for a second, then sending everyone into hysterics.
A quick whisper in James’ ear said, “forty seconds, love. Marlene said to remind you: Cotswolds ‘72. Ring a bell?”
Sirius.
Sirius had come to rescue him from the meeting.
Not only that: Sirius and Marlene had actually taken the time to concoct a bit of a plan to get him away from it.
Obviously James remembered the grand escape of the Queen's room in '72.
Very quickly he scribbled a note on a piece of paper and placed it in what he hoped was the vase right in the middle of the large table.
Once that was done he made his best to sound terrified of the dark for a few more seconds, aggravating the chaos of the room.
"I can't bloody see anythi–, ouch! That was my foot, Triston!"
"Careful with the Prince!" someone said.
"Wasn’t me, sir," came Triston's voice.
"Stay in your seats!" exclaimed Brin.
“Little late for that,” said someone else.
"Well somebody stepped on my bloody foot! Treason!" James said, voice a little louder now.
A collective gasp.
The unmistakable sounds, or rather, silence of stillness.
Then,
“I’VE BEEN LIVING THROUGH CHANGES”
The music was deafening, it reverberated in his chest.
James stepped towards the door cautiously, eyes wide, not seeing a thing in the dark.
Where are you Sirius, he thought to himself.
“AND I COULD SWING FOR YOU”
A few more steps. He reached his hand for the door knob.
A hand grabbed his arm, “Not yet,” Sirius whispered.
“I CAN SEE THE VEINS IN MY HANDS
ARE SHOWING THROUGH”
“Ready?”
“Always.”
“YOU’VE GOT TO GET READY FOR ME
IS IT REAL?
OR IS IT TREASON?
IS IT TREASON”
Sirius pulled him through the door just when the singer hit the falsetto, the lights came back on and the music stopped. The door closed behind them with a slightly muffled boom.
Complete silence on the other side, then, just as before, chaos.
James caught Sirius’ eye for half a second before they both exploded into laughter, cackling hysterically, indiscreetly and stupidly; they were both still by the door for God's sake!
Sirius’ hand was still on James' arm, they were slapping each other’s backs, bent over, consumed in mirth and mischief. That is, until he placed a hand on top of Sirius’.
Both of them crouched on the floor, right there on the corridor, their laughs became small, breathy giggles, then just warm smiles.
Sirius had his gaze locked on him, blue eyes sparkling with joy. James felt a wave of affection for Sirius just then. For his eyes, deep, deep, for his smile, soft and sweet as it was with nobody but him, for this utterly ridiculous boy, who had broken into a private meeting of advisors just for him.
Sirius had done it for him.
He felt Sirius lean closer and, as if by instinct, he did the same. They had already been close while laughing, but now they were close enough that James could notice different shades of blue and grey in Sirius' eyes, open to the fullest, big and round, broken glass in the most beautiful combinations. They were close enough that he could hear the sound that Sirius' mouth made when it fell open, expression both clear and awed.
James wasn’t sure what had brought that expression on Sirius' face, but he had the feeling that it had been him, somehow. Something he did. He wanted to know, though. He needed to know why Sirius' eyes were on him so pleadingly, so reverentially, so he could do it again and again for the rest of his days.
It felt strange, he thought. To have Sirius so unguarded for once. Of course James prided himself in being the one who could tell when Sirius was lying or joking or truly in a bad mood, even knowing him for such a short time, but it was rare that he didn't have to search for that tiny twitch of Sirius' lips when he was displeased, or the way he clenched his jaw when he readied himself for an argument, or how his ears moved when he smiled his true smile.
Sirius was beautiful, when he was angry or bored or exhilarated, he was truly a work of art. But when he was this open, this vulnerable?
He was breath-taking.
For a second, James' mind travelled to Sirius' lips, his mouth, his tongue. He wondered if he'd be able to taste the laughter that had been there just a few seconds, maybe minutes, before.
He was sure they were even closer now, he could feel Sirius' breath on his lower lip, James' mouth open just so, as if ready to taste.
“It’s locked,” sounded a muffled voice from the room suddenly, the knob of the doors rattling loudly.
The boys sprung apart, spell broken.
"I suppose we better let them out, don't want kidnapping allegations for the palace," James said.
Sirius smiled, "it'll open in a few–," he glances at his watch, "seconds!"
He jumped to his full height, took James' hand and off they were, sprinting across the palace.
"Marlene will have my balls if I cocked this up!" Sirius yelped.
"Wha–, why?" James asked in bewilderment.
"She told me I could do this only if I did it perfectly! She made me promise!"
"My Marls let you in on the Cotswolds 1972's great escape plan?"
They slowed their pace a little, now that they were about seven minutes away from the study where the meeting had taken place.
Sirius looked sheepish, then "not exactly. She gave me strict instructions that I was to follow by the letter. I still don't know how you'll manage not to be followed to the drawing room we chose."
Ah, yes. Marlene never would have given Sirius, or anyone really, the best part of the plan. It was too good, honestly. The distraction was all well and good, nothing she'd probably done a million times with her school friends. But, "the answer's in the note," James explained.
If it was possible, Sirius' expectant expression became more insistent.
“Don’t worry that pretty little head about it, it’s just a brilliant piece of ironclad excuses we perfected over the years. A little menacing, a little apologetic. Works like a charm, every time.”
James wasn’t about to spill his and Marlene’s awesomeness from when they were small. Not even to Sirius. It was just a little thing, of course. But it had been theirs. His and Marlene’s. They’d need to have a discussion if they were to share it.
Sirius looked a bit put off, for a second. Then his smile returned, cheeks rosy, “do you think I’m pretty?” he asked coyly.
James snorted, “you know you’re beautiful, Si.”
Sirius bit his lip, seeming shy.
“Yes, well. Selective breeding will do that to a person,” Sirius’ tone was soft, in spite of the words. “I like it when you say it, though.”
They had arrived to the drawing room then, “I’ll remind you every day, if you like.”
“Remind him of what?” asked Marlene, stationed right by the door. Probably waiting for them, to see if her little pupil had completed the task to her liking.
“Nothing,” answered Sirius quickly.
“Prince James! You made it!” exclaimed Remus from the floor by the fireplace.
“Took your sweet time as well,” said Lily from the sofa. “I was all for opening the presents without you, mind. But softie over here–,”
“Don’t mind her,” said Marlene. “Her sister’s a bitch and she’s got hurt feelings. And too much wine in her bloodstream.”
“Tuney isn’t a…” Lily trailed off. “No, yeah, you’re right. She is.” Lily looked sadly to the fireplace, “I’m being mean. James, I wouldn’t have opened the presents without you. And not only because Marlene and Sirius would have cut my fingers off before touching them.”
“It’s alright, Evans. Not the greatest Christmas then?”
“Ah, you know. Siblings,” she didn’t elaborate.
James was about to explain that, actually, no. He didn’t know about siblings. He was an only child, plus all his relatives, cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents, all of them were a minimum of twenty years older than him. But Sirius surprised him by stating, “bane of existence, siblings. You hate them, they hurt you, you hurt them, you’d do anything for them, they destroy you, and then when they’re not there… you miss them. Fucking idiots.”
James faced Sirius. This had been the first time he’d heard Sirius talk about anything remotely close to families. And it didn’t seem as though it was just a passing thought for him, either. It was personal; he could see in Sirius the… the pain in his eyes, in the downturn of his mouth. Sirius was speaking from experience.
James may not have known about brotherhood, or siblinghood, but he did know about loss. What Sirius’ eyes were showing was loss. The worst kind of loss as well. The kind that settled into who you were; the kind that buried itself in your bones and in your soul. James knew about it very well indeed.
He didn’t seem to be the only one surprised about Sirius’... it wasn’t a confession, really, but it did feel like one. Remus looked at him with concern; Lily with pity. Even Marlene seemed taken aback by it, for just a second.
“That’s enough maudlinness,” she piped. “I want presents and I want booze and I want food and I want them now!”
Good old Marls, thought James. She always knew how to break tension.
Everybody shook themselves and the atmosphere relaxed at once. Even the soft music seemed less tense, more festive now.
They all sat in a circle in the middle of the room, around the fire. James had his back to it, it felt pleasant, the warmth was almost reassuring. Sirius sat next to him, quite close, but not touching.
“Who’s first?” Sirius asked excitedly, all previous sadness gone from him. Except for that hint of sorrow that James hadn’t been deft enough to identify before. Was it always there? That sort of… greyness in his expression?
Marlene exchanged a look with James, who dutifully raised his hands and thought ‘Please parcels come from the wardrobe, please,’ or, as Remus called it, casted a wandless summoning charm.
“Incoming,” Sirius warned the other three, who had their backs to the flying parcels.
James scoffed, offended, “I’m not about to thump their heads, Si-rius.” He’d almost called Sirius ‘Si’, as he had many times before. But he didn’t want the others to catch on and start calling him that too. Not yet, at least. It was something between them only. He felt possessive of the little nickname.
Sirius flinched when the presents neared the heads of the other three, but they only passed through them, as if they were mere illusions of light or something. The boxes and bags settled on the floor in the middle of the circle. James paid them no mind.
Lily and Remus looked struck when the parcels simply ignored their tangibility. James couldn’t help but feel smug. It was so funny how they always tried to make sense of his doings with their texts and theories, even when confronted by the fact that they were clearly wrong.
Sirius and Marlene were better at adjusting their mindset, but that made them a little less entertaining. Marlene was already accustomed to James’ abilities, she didn’t care unless it was to rile Lily and Remus up, and Sirius mainly tried to get him to teach him such skills.
Sirius was rather shite at wandless, apparently.
“I fucking hate it when he does that!” Lily said. James shrugged, still looking at Sirius, who had an impressed look in his eyes. It warmed James more than the fire at his back.
“It is rather… weird,” answered Remus, pensively. James shrugged again. Sirius blinked at him. Adorable, he thought.
“Not weird, literally impossible! The first lesson we learn in Hogwarts is how the caster of a spell must have their eyes fixed on the target at all times!”
“And one must use wands to channel strong, determined, precise bits of magic too,” he added.
Lily turned a grumpy look on James, “I despise you. It’s like you’re determined to shit on every piece of information we’ve been taught about magical theory. Two spells at once, as well!”
“Certainly an anomaly,” Remus mused.
“Oh, leave off, Evans,” said Sirius. “Not a teaching moment, this one, Lupin.”
“Yeah, it’s presents time! And drinks!” said Marlene, who summoned the drinks from Gods knew where. “And I’ll start, because I’m the only one who seems to have any holiday spirit here!”
She grabbed a red, slightly dishevelled looking box, from the pile in front of her and tore into it with feral glee.
“Let’s all open one at the same time!” James said suddenly. Marlene, for all her tearing of wrapping paper and manic giggles, was being rather slow with her progress.
Thank the Lord, Sirius backed him up. “So we all get into the holiday spirit with the mad lass, yeah?” he said.
Each of them grabbed a present.
"Tell me, Lily," said Remus with a badly hidden smirk. "Does any of this feel ominous to you?"
"Extremely," answered Lily, with a smirk of her own. She wasn't even trying to hide it.
James tried not to look at Sirius; he'd explode in laughter if they locked eyes, he was sure.
Still, he knew they were both fiddling with their own parcels, one orange, one green. James didn't know what his contained, but he was sure that the green one on Sirius' hands held a trumpet that played itself when anyone spoke the word 'what'. It had been a pain to design, but he was sure it'd been worth it. Marlene had almost destroyed it when James tested it on her.
Remus, Lily and Marlene knew about the pranks, of course. But each of them thought that the others didn’t.
This hadn't been on purpose, and he watched as realisation dawned on Sirius, eyes roaming around the occupants of the room, joyful and mischievous.
He tried not to look at Sirius. Again.
Marlene finally opened her box, a burst of grey dust exploded from it, seemingly dousing everyone but, in fact, disappearing before even one particle touched any of them.
Marlene still coughed dramatically, naturally.
"What the bloody hell?" she said, peering inside the box. Another burst of the fake grey dust, this time accompanied by some red, which placed itself on Marlene's nose, making her snort and sneeze, making everybody erupt into giggles at her expense.
Scowling, she told Lily to open her bag, which she did gingerly. Remus leaned in expectantly, when a bunch of lilies appeared in her cupped hands, multiplying by the dozen.
“I’m guessing that one was from you, Remus,” she said. “You always play with my name and the like.”
“You’d be correct, Lily dearest. I’m guessing you knew about the pranks?”
Marlene snorted again.
“Of course she knew,” said Sirius rolling his eyes. “The presents were her idea, do you think I would have risked my life to ruin it without telling her?”
Marlene snorted again. It was getting harder for James to maintain his composure, and it seemed that Sirius was in the same predicament. Her nose was red and round now. The others didn’t seem to have noticed.
“What baffles me is that you didn’t tell each other,” said James.
Marlene grunted.
“We didn’t keep it from you on purpose,” explained Sirius.
Lily looked a little dejected, “I wanted to surprise him with a prank. He always tells me I’m boring.”
Outraged, Remus cried, “I never told you that! I’d never say that Lily!”
“Well, not in those words you wouldn’t. But you always tell me how good it is to have academic discussions with me; you never go about messing with me at all,” she pouted.
“Well, that’s horrible,” interjected James. “What do you have to say for yourself, Mr. Lupin?”
“Yes, what is your excuse for not–, including poor Lily into your devious jokes?” asked Sirius, mock seriously.
“I–, I–, she’s scary!” Remus cried.
Marlene laughed, then snorted. James willed himself not to look at Sirius.
“Yes, well, I can take a joke, Remus.”
“You heard the lady, she’s all for the jest,” said Sirius.
“Anyway, Mckinnon, you haven’t guessed who made your present,” Remus ignored Sirius.
Marlene tried to speak, but all that came out of her mouth were weirdly deep grunts.
James finally looked at Sirius and they both cackled. The other two looked flabbergasted, but Marlene seemed downright murderous.
“What is it, Marlsly?” asked James between giggles, trying to sound innocent. “Need a cough drop?”
Marlene jumped up with astonishing speed, right to him, still grunting.
“Scatter!” Sirius yelled, pushing James to the side and diving behind the sofa. Remus and Lily were laughing their heads off, James and Sirius were trying to survive.
Amidst very many grunts, Marlene managed “I’m going to rip you open!”
She coughed again, her nose swelled up until it looked as if it was about to burst.
“Marlene, your nose!” laughed Lily.
“Just like an overgrown cherry,” managed Remus.
Sirius squawked, offended, “not a bloody fruit, Lupin!”
“Everything is fine, little Rudolph,” said James placatingly. He was still trying to avoid being smothered by a pretty cushion. “It’ll wear off in a few.”
“It bloody better!” screamed Marlene. Her nose was glowing now.
“Rudolph the rednosed reindeer,” explained Lily unnecessarily. “How did you know about it, Mr. Pureblood?” she asked Sirius.
James felt the room still for a moment. He didn’t know why, but he could sense that the mention of that word made everybody uncomfortable. Even Lily seemed a little ashamed.
“James told me about it,” Sirius said quietly. “I thought it was sweet.”
Marlene, once again, broke the tension.
“Ah, yes,” she said. “You thought it was sweet so you thought of me. You old flirt,” she teased.
“Actually, I thought it was sweet, so I thought you sour gremlin would benefit from it,” Sirius quipped.
James caught Lily sending Sirius an apologetic grimace, which he brushed off.
The evening continued in such a manner for hours after that.
Quips and jokes, pranks and laughs. It was sweet, James thought.
They all settled back into their places, him and Sirius sat more closely to each other on the floor, cross legged, knees brushing. Everybody had got an ugly Christmas jumper from Lily, so they all looked colourfully ridiculous now.
The atmosphere was warm and cosy. It was all yellows and oranges from the light of the fireplace, he could feel the softness of the carpet, Sirius’ knee touching his, Marlene’s (as Sirius put it,) gremlin laughter, Lily’s sarcastic comments, Remus’ quiet observations. His own jokes being met by smiles and laughs. Sometimes even a hand on his arm, when Sirius thought something he said was particularly funny or sweet.
It felt… it felt as if something that had been missing, something he craved since his parents died, had finally slotted into place. He felt properly content. It felt like family.
He should have known it wouldn’t last.
“What’s this one, then?” asked Marlene, grabbing a neatly wrapped, dark blue parcel. It had been hours since they opened the last present, all of them accounted for, as far as James knew.
Lily and Sirius eyed it with curiosity.
“Not from me,” said James.
“Nor me,” echoed everyone else.
“There’s no card either,” Marlene looked puzzled.
Everybody was curious now. Sirius seemed weary, but he didn’t object to it being opened.
The blue of the wrapping paper was dark enough that it looked almost black. James felt a rush of… something. Fear, perhaps. No, foreboding.
He threw himself across the circle to stop Marlene’s hands, just as the box opened and a dark cloud appeared, setting itself in the middle of the circle for a moment, before settling in front of Remus and changing into a white, round… thing. It looked like a beach ball, one made of white stone, almost dusty.
Remus’ eyes widened in fear, his mouth hanging open in horror.
“No, no, no, no! It’s not, not today, CLEAR OUT OF THE ROOM!” he yelled, backing away from the group.
Everybody was frozen in shock, but James knew that whatever that thing was had scared Remus tremendously. Remus was his friend, he could never let a friend be that frightened. He threw himself in the direction of the thing, but a hand grabbed the back of his jumper, pulling him backwards.
That’s when he noticed Lily, Marlene and Sirius had pulled their wands out, and had them pointed at, what now was, a dark cloud again.
“Remus, it’s a boggart,” Sirius said calmly. Too calmly. It was a steely sort of calm, James noted dazedly. Fabricated, not real.
Sirius’ back was straight as a board, tension coming from him as waves.
The cloud must have heard him, for it reared it’s–, head? to Sirius, and transformed into a woman, a witch, wand in her hand, sickly sweet smile on her face.
“Sirius Orion,” her voice rumbled, her expression morphing into one of disgust. “You have disgraced the family one too many times.” She raised her wand.
By instinct, if nothing else, James pushed Sirius aside, both of them falling to the floor with twin thuds. Sirius was trembling. Whoever that was, she’d unsettled Sirius to his core. He didn’t know what to do; Remus was still curled into himself in the corner of the room, Sirius was shaking like a leaf, he himself wasn’t faring that well either, for a moment the tall woman, dressed in the finest black robes, brandishing the wand had seemed so much like… so much like…
“Si, you’re fine. You’re alright. Easy, now,” he said. The words pouring out of his mouth, trying to calm his friend down. Sirius needed him right now; he had no time to dwell on his memories. He recalled Sirius’ words, “it’s a boggart, Sirius, it’s just a boggart.”
Granted, he didn’t actually know what a boggart was, exactly, but when Sirius had mentioned it it had been to set Remus at ease.
The woman, seemingly bored with them, turned to Lily and Marlene, who were standing together, arm in arm, wands raised.
The boggart didn’t seem to know what to do about them both, so it scintillated for a little while, before settling into an old man, lying on the floor, deathly pale, eyes half-lidded.
James stood up, bringing Sirius with him. He knew this man. He knew him as well as he’d known his own father.
It was Victor. On his deathbed.
But he looked all wrong; where his hair had been blonde, streaked with white, this one had reddish hair, like Lily’s. Where his chin had resembled Marlene’s so much, it resembled Lily’s now.
“Dad?” asked Marlene, just as Lily said “daddy?”
“No! It’s not real!” James exclaimed, approaching the pair. Marlene’s eyes looked unfocused, they were filled with tears.
The girls’ eyes snapped up to James, then to Sirius, then back to James.
“It–,” Sirius cleared his throat. His voice still unstable and raspy when he said, “Boggart.”
The girls’ gaze cleared, then, in unison, they raised their wands again.
“Riddi–,”
James didn’t have time to flinch at the wands moving before every glass window came crashing down with a deafening, overwhelming noise, and the doors to the balcony exploded open with a resounding BOOM!
Three figures appeared in the door, all wearing robes. Wizards, James thought. One had sandy coloured, combed back hair; one with long, thin, dark plaits; and one with–.
One was–.
The room stilled. The fireplace’ fire went out, setting the room in a dim, cold light. All the colourful joy that had been there had been suddenly sucked out of the room.
“Hello, Prince James,” said Doctor Riddle.
“YOU!” Screamed Marlene, but she wasn’t looking at him. She was looking at the girl with the plaits.
James flinched when Sirius touched his arm, “do you know them, James?”
“Everybody, clear out, NOW!” James said authoritatively.
Lily, Marlene, Sirius and even Remus crowded around him, ignoring him.
“No need for such dramatics,” said Riddle. “I’m only an old friend of the family.”
The sandy haired masked person snickered.
“You are not welcome, Riddle," said James. He felt his insides burning, the memories, the memories, the memories threatening to overpower him. Then, in a move that he himself didn’t see coming, he took his own wand out. “Leave,” he ordered.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Riddle said in a mocking tone. Both of his companions took their own wands out as well. “Don’t tell me the little princeling learned how to use a wand while I’ve been away.”
“Master,” the masked person said.
“You guys need to leave, this isn’t safe,” James murmured to his friends while Riddle had a hushed conversation with his minion.
“The fuck we will,” Sirius said, also quietly, but forcefully.
“Who are they?” asked Lily in the same tone.
“That’s fucking Meadowes,” answered Marlene, not bothering to whisper. Sirius looked surprised. Lily let out an ‘oh’ of confused understanding.
The girl with the plaits’ head snapped up. “Mckinnon,” she saluted, as if this was a chance encounter at the park, not an ambush at four in the fucking morning.
James didn’t know what to do. His friends weren’t listening to him, and he’d be an idiot to believe that Doctor Riddle would ever listen to his demands, so he did something both very brave and very stupid.
He raised his wand, pointed it at Riddle, the only thing in his mind ‘you will not harm them, not ever, not as you harmed me’.
Jets of orange light streaked from his wand, immediately counteracted by red streaks of light from the masked person.
Riddle clicked his tongue disapprovingly, “you really have overreacted, princeling. I’m only here to talk.”
“I have nothing to say to you,” James said.
“You’re outnumbered,” said Sirius.
“You’re not welcome,” said Remus.
“Leave,” said Lily.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Marlene asked Meadowes.
“This is boring,” drawled the masked person. "I'm going to look for–,"
“Get out!” screamed Marlene, sending a spell to the three intruders.
That’s when all hell broke loose.
James pushed Sirius and Remus to the ground, just as a purple spell was about to hit them. Marlene set up a shimmering shield and sent counter-curses every which way, while Lily did… something. She muttered to herself, sparks flying in all directions from her wand. Remus and Sirius seemed to be fine, Remus using what appeared to be mild curses, while Sirius didn’t seem to have any scruples about his. James, for all his bravado, didn’t really know how to use a wand, didn’t know any curses or shield charms or anything at all, really, so he pocketed it hastily and spread his hands about, thinking very determinedly 'leave us alone', and 'don't you dare', and 'you'll pay for that'. He didn’t know what he was doing, but he felt his power surge through his veins, gather in his hands and sort of–, release itself against the intruders. Sometimes red, sometimes blue, sometimes purple streams hit the masked person and Meadowes, but never Riddle. Objects transformed and took life in the room, tables became obstructions, chairs became large bowling balls that rolled on the floor, making it difficult for Riddle and his minions to stay still or move with any finesse.
Their three opponents were vicious in their attacks, not caring about the harm they caused in the least. The room was a mess of lights and noise and chaos.
Something itched in the back of James' head, just as Lily gasped, doubling over. The one second he took to check that she was alright caused him to get hit by a ball of fire, right on his leg.
It seemed ironic, somehow, that being hurt made him more aware of his surroundings, but he felt as if some fog he hadn't noticed lifted, all at once.
He realised that, when before it had been five on three, everybody against everybody, now the fighting had separated. Marlene was up against Meadowes, Remus against the masked person, Lily was doing her fiddly thing, and James and Sirius were against an ominously collected Riddle.
Every spell that came out of Sirius' wand was met with a precise deflection; every curse from Riddle's was only barely sidestepped.
They were losing, he thought.
I will not let him touch another one of my friends, he thought. I will not let him touch Sirius.
He joined his hands together, let all his strength accompany the gesture, then released his magic.
A luminous sphere surrounded them, Lily, Sirius, Remus and himself. Marlene was too far away, duelling Meadowes.
The limits of the sphere pushed Riddle and the masked person a few steps back.
Good, he thought. Respite. "I will not let you harm them," he told Riddle.
"Too hasty, as always you are, Princeling," Riddle stated. "I'm here in search of an object, not a purpose. Certainly not with the purpose of harming any of your… acquaintances."
"Master," the masked person complained.
"Silence."
"You will have nothing from my home. You deserve to rot."
Sirius moved almost imperceptibly closer to him, offering more comfort in his support than he probably realised.
Just then, a squeal sounded from the two girls fighting, breaking through James' sphere, which dissipated as if made of mist.
Riddle smiled, then continued with his assault.
Remus resumed his duel with the masked person at once, engaging him quickly, clearing Riddle for Sirius and James.
But Riddle wasn't an easy task, he was brutal.
James saw a jet of bright, bright green light escape from Riddle's wand and instinctively pushed Sirius behind him, shielding him with his body.
The spell missed, which seemed to enrage Riddle. Until now, he'd not shown any emotion on his face, but now…
James heard a CRACK he'd learnt to identify as the sound of apparition, and suddenly Marlene and Meadowes had disappeared.
Him and Sirius didn’t stop their own duel, but he noticed how the sudden noise distracted Remus, earning him a hit to the shoulder.
"WARDS ARE DOWN," yelled Lily, before running to Remus and apparating away with him as well.
Another green jet of light from Riddle's wand had James' heart seizing. "Sirius!" he screamed, shielding him again, not taking into account that the masked person was now free to attack them. Sirius had lost his wand only a second ago, something making it simply jump from his grasp. He had no way of defending himself.
He had only felt pure, unadulterated fear when he saw that shade of green, that bright light; he wanted Sirius as far away from it as possible. Judging from the hole it left when it hit the wall behind them, it wasn’t a bad call.
What was a bad call, was to turn his back on his two opponents. He was just realising this, hands patting Sirius' arms and torso mindlessly, when he heard the word. That word that haunted most of his nightmares. That word he had forbidden himself from uttering, even in the back of his mind.
"CRUCIO!"
It was said so derangedly that, for a moment, he believed it wouldn’t work.
In his memories, the word was only said in a clear, high, dispassionate tone.
If wishes were horses, he had time to think, before all of it, all of it at once hit him, all at once.
There was no description for it. No word was big enough. It was fire, but it was ice, too. It felt as if he was bleeding, but it also felt as if there was no blood inside of him. Every second he thought he might get used to it, to bear it, but every second it got worse, and worse, and worse.
It was agony. It was torture. It was pain beyond belief. It made his brain feel fried, disconnected from his body. The worst were the reprieves, the ebbing and flowing of the magic. Each time, he thought he might take one breath, but it was always cut short by the next wave.
He would not scream.
He would never give Riddle the satisfaction again.
His body turned without his permission, falling to his knees, facing Riddle.
How long had it been since he was in this state?
He knew nothing but pain, agony, suffering.
Maybe a few more seconds and his body would give up. Maybe he could give up.
He wanted to die.
He wouldn’t scream.
With the effort of ten thousand men, he raised his head slightly, opening his eyes.
His eyes, his eyes. His eyes, that felt as if a hundred knives were being stuck in them, as if they were milliseconds away from simply melting.
He stared at Riddle, tears streaming down his cheeks, feeling rivers of acid travelling down his face.
He would not scream.
If this was his end, he'd meet it with stoicism, if not grace.
He would not scream. He could feel his mind trying to break loose. He would not scream.
Why wouldn't he scream? He couldn’t remember. But he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t.
He saw Riddle half smile. Then, all at once, the pain stopped, and the smile slipped from Riddle's face.
"The cloak, where is it?" Riddle demanded urgently.
James inhaled sharply, felt Sirius' arms around him, then everything went black.