“Come here, you little rascal!” Sirius says in the other room followed by high-pitched screeches and giggles, dripped in something so sweet it makes James feel like he’s going to double over. The war has frayed the seams of every relationship so severely that having them all here, together, just for one day feels like a tremendous weight has been lifted from his shoulders. It’s also making it easier for James to imagine a life for Harry, Lily and him free from the shadow that’s always in the room with them. A normal life where they aren’t suffocating in fear and loneliness.
“I’ve got you Hazza!” Sirius says as he comes barrelling into the room with Harry precariously held at his hip, like the toddler is flying. Harry is loving it, a huge grin on his face and noises coming from him that could make someone's ears bleed. He doesn’t yet understand why his Godfather can’t come over more often.
“Pa-,” is all Harry can manage in between his laughs before Sirius makes a sharp turn and they are both flying out of the dining room back to the lounge at lightning speeds. His best friend wearing a smile big enough to rival Harry’s.
“Is this bad or good for kids?” Remus asks from the other side of the kitchen, his tall frame leaning against the counter.
Lily laughs from next to James, “It’s amazing, as soon as his head hits the mattress tonight he’ll pass right out.”
“Mm-hmm, might even sleep through the night after today.” James chimes in. He reaches over to his wife, sliding his hands over Lily’s shoulder before pulling her closer so he can plant a kiss on the freckled skin visible next to the strap of her singlet.
The sun is shining its rays of afternoon warmth through the kitchen windows. Bathing everything in a calm that they've been starved of for so long. James can’t help kissing his wife. He can’t help lovingly gazing at Remus smoking by the sink and Peter sitting on the stool at the other side of the counter. The love he has for all of them pouring out his heart helplessly.
It’s always been him and them. Ever since he arrived at Hogwarts wide eyed and innocent to the horrors of the world, James Potter saw these people and knew with everything in him that they were going to be in his life until the day he died. Presumptuous of an eleven-year-old but so far he's been right. They talk less, sure. With Remus always out on his secret missions for Dumbledore, Peter most likely doing something similar. James and Lily locked up here and Sirius consumed with his own thoughts that grow mean faces and sharp teeth. But they all have something deep inside that sings the same song. Even now with Mary, Dorcas and Marlene not here, James can feel them. Knows there's something connecting them all beyond anyone's comprehension.
“Did Dumbledore say why when he suggested you have us over today?” Peter asks, looking towards the doorway.
“To be honest, I think the old bastard was just feeling sorry for us.” James replies with a laugh.
“Unlikely,” Remus mutters under his breath, grabbing James’ attention. But before he can comment on it, Peter's speaking again.
“Really? You don’t think it’s odd that after months and months of being against anyone seeing you at all. He just thinks it’ll be good for you to have a chat with some mates face to face.”
“Pete, I know you're really worried. But just having you guys over once in a while isn’t going to do any harm, yeah? We would have invited the girls too if they hadn’t been busy. We trust every single one of you with our lives.” James says, meaning every word. During the last couple of years people have become scared of their own reflection. Cutting off friends and people they used to trust. James himself has done it. Even before Dumbledore told them that Voldemort was after their unborn son, the disappearances and murders had scared him enough to only stay in contact with the order members and his close-knit group of friends. That was until it was revealed that there was a rat in the order feeding information to the other side. Now he just has his friends, and a complicated relationship with the world he used to find love in so easily.
Shifting on her legs Lily says, “and to be honest I don’t know what I would have done if we had to go much longer without seeing a different face.”
“Everything between you guys good?” Asks Remus. His eyebrows raised in suspicion.
Lily and James share a look. It’s not like things are bad between them. They’re not on the verge of a breakup or anything. They still sleep in the same bed and share a kiss every night on the sofa while she reads. But saying that being alone most of the time with a toddler hasn’t taken a toll on them both would be a lie. Their patience has shortened and responses are sometimes too snappy. They have been trying to keep it together for Harry but each day seems to crack the clay pot just a little more until one of them ends up crying on the stairs.
James looks into her eyes and knows it’ll be alright. He knows they both always end up on the stairs, talking with their heads drawn together, breathing the same air. Mending the cracks.
He looks at Remus and smiles, “it’s not… easy, but we’ll get through it. You being here just makes it a little easier.”
Lily nods “We missed you.”
“I've missed you guys too.” Remus says, eyes travelling to the floor. “Fuck everything’s just so shitty right now.” his hand rubs across his mouth and the fresh scar on his lip.
James eyebrows furrow, he’d known things were tough for Remus but that was also to be expected with the state of things. Had they gotten worse in the last few months? The thought that he’d missed something sends guilt bubbling into his abdomen.
“I-,” before James can continue, Sirius walks in-slightly out of breath and hair a complete mess, with Harry squirming in his arms.
“Haz is very determined to see Uncle Moony,” he chuckles breathlessly. As he gets closer to the group in the kitchen Harry finally notices Remus. He goes from squirming to thrashing and flailing his arms in Remus’ direction. “Moo, Moo!” He chants in the broken way toddlers try to speak.
Sirius must value his life and internal organs because he sets Harry down on the tiles. James looks up at Remus who is quickly putting out his cigarette before Harry comes slamming into his leg, instantly grabbing onto the denim of his jeans like a koala on a tree branch. Remus and Sirius share an odd look before Remus is bending down with a groan and scooping Harry up.
“James, do you reckon I can chat with you for a second?” James finds Sirius’ eyes, they’re almost pleading. “Of course,” he replies without a second thought. He’d do anything for him.
But first he just has to make sure Remus is-it seems Remus is busy at the moment trying his best to hide a smirk. Harry has taken being held as an opportunity to smush his uncle's cheeks together rather adorably with his small hands while Lily and Peter barely try to contain their laughs. He looks over at James and gives him a tiny nod, already understanding the unasked question. You go, his eyes say before turning to send Lily an unimpressed look as her son plays with his hair.
The voices in the kitchen fade away as James and Sirius walk up stairs “Why was Remus looking at you like that?” Sirius asks as they close the door to the master bedroom, the warmth of the sunny kitchen now forgotten and replaced with cool darkness. “Why was Moony looking at you like that?” James questions, a little confused as to what's going on.
“I-” Sirius cuts himself off. He seems to deflate, blue eyes going to the floor and shoulders slumping.
“Hey. Hey what's wrong?.” James says, leaning down trying to catch his gaze. “You can tell me anything, Sirius, anything. Are you and Remus having a fight again…?” He whispers.
Sirius says nothing. Just releases a shaky breath before he sinks to the floor and rests his back against the wooden footboard of the bed.
James doesn’t say anything either, only takes his place next to his best friend and waits. Because James always knows what Sirius needs. It had taken them one whole week as kids before it felt like they could read each other's minds. One week before they realised they were formed from the same matter shining bright in the sky. Two consciousnesses split in half at creation destined to find each other in this life and any other forms of it.
They sit, James doesn’t know for how long but it feels like one of the others might come up at any moment to make sure everything is okay. The darkness of the room surrounds them, not enough so they can’t see but still a contrast to the brightness of down stairs.
“It’s getting so bad out there James. I-” he whispers, then takes another shaky breath in. “When we talk through the mirrors, lately I haven’t been telling you everything.” He meets James’ eyes. “The twins are dead.” He says, voice going thick.
Fabian and Gideon Prewett. They had been a couple of years ahead of James in school. He remembers them being funny and loud but also deadly on the quidditch pitch. They had taken James and Sirius under their wings after Hogwarts when they all joined The Order of the Phoenix. Helped them prepare for the war that had already started.
“Ho- How?”
“Umm they were leaving a muggle bar when it happened, that's what Alestor told me.” Sirius says. “But listen James, this is just the beginning. I can feel it.” His eyes go hard, looking at James fiercely.
Here one minute then gone the next. Life, the fragile thing they all share.
He knows why Sirius hadn’t told him. He wants to protect James because that’s what they do for each other. Take it when the other can’t. But James can tell that Sirius is worn down to bone.
“It was bad when you were out there but… now, now there’s this feeling like maybe we’ve already lost. I can’t stop thinking that it’s going to be one of us next. Be you… be Harry. I can tell Peter and Remus feel it, they’ve been different. You don’t see it, but I do.” Sirius rushes the words out, like he’s running out of time.
He swallows before continuing. “And Remus I- I don’t know if I’m just paranoid. Fuck I hope I’m just paranoid, but he goes for weeks, most of them during the full and doesn’t tell me a thing. He comes home bruised and cut up every time and I plead with him to tell me anything. But he’s so cold about it until he’s crying at my feet telling me he’s sorry over and over again. I can’t help thinking maybe he- maybe he’s lost who he used to be…”
James wraps his arms around Sirius. Holds him as he instantly releases a sob into the crook of James’ neck. Holding him together as he breaks apart. It all makes his heart ache. How did they get here?
“Shhh, I’ve got you,” James tries to sooth him but his throat is already closing up. Tears forming in his eyes. His best friend is hurting, absolutely terrified to the point of breaking down on the floor in his arms. He wants so badly at this moment to say that it will all be alright, but he can’t. Because he feels it too. He has tried to ignore it. Tried to hope with everything in him they’ll make it. But the curtain is falling, revealing the truth stripped plain of all the encouraging words and childlike naivete. The odds are against them.
They cry together. The sound of wet breaths filling the room. James clings harder until the lines of him holding Sirius together blur and they are both falling apart on the carpet.
“I’m scared too,” James finally admits once they've both calmed down. Sirius’ hair smells like coconut.
“I know,” he whispers back. “I’m sorry for uh- for freaking out on you.”
“We’ve both done our fair share of that,” he laughs softly. “I don’t think it matters anymore.”
“Hmm.” Sirius replies. Then he’s pulling away and wiping his wet cheeks.
James looks at him. Puffy eyes and snot running down the bottom half of his face. He brings his hand up and gently starts combing through Sirius' hair. It’s still so messy after playing with Harry. It feels like hours have passed since then.
They both know there’s nothing to say that will assuage their trepidations about the war. So James only says what he Knows.
“I love you Sirius. And I know Remus loves you a stupid, ridiculous amount too. I know he’s good, the same way I know you are.”
“But- James I’m not though.”
“You are.” He replies calmly. “I’ve Known you for ten years, Sirius. And in those years I got to know just how kind and caring you are. How you’d do absolutely anything for the people you love.“
“I’ve done bad things.” Sirius whispers.
“So have most people. And Remus forgave you for what you did. You grew and- and learnt from it. Not everyone does that.”
“Maybe it wasn’t enough.”
“I don’t believe that. Not for a second.”
Sirius looks like he wants to object again, but he knows James won’t take anything else for an answer. James sighs and lets his head fall back against the floorboard. A single dull thunk in the silent room.
“I don’t think Remus would ever do something to hurt you unless he thought he was saving you at the same time. He said something about Dumbledore earlier, that’s why he was looking at me like that.” James says to the ceiling. “And we’re not supposed to tell anyone about missions because of the rat.”
“He-”
“He trusts you Sirius. Being secretive is just what everyone has to be now.”
Sirius makes a noise of frustration, “You haven’t been on missions since Harry. You have nothing to keep secret from Lily. I highly doubt anyone else from the Order isn’t saying anything to their significant others.”
“You’re right. I haven’t been out there for a while.” James says, looking over at Sirius. “But you never know who's listening, I’m not trying to dismiss your feelings, I’m really not. But I think he’s just protecting you.”
“I don’t know what's wrong with me.” Sirius says before resting his head on James’ shoulder. “I really don’t.”
“Nothing. Nothings wrong with you.” James says softly. “You’re just going through a hard time, okay?” He wants to say that everything will turn out alright. Be more comforting, anything at all to make things better for Sirius. He can’t.
“WE NEED TO GO!”
The sudden shout from down stairs startles them both. But they don’t get up straight away. Instead, they sit for a moment, Sirius’ head still on his shoulder, each breath in sync. James doesn't want to move. A part of him wishes he had a time turner so he could pause the rest of the world for a little while longer. Make a small space in the rhythm of time just for them.
Except time is unforgiving so Sirius gets up and holds out his hand. James looks up at his best friend and grieves for the children they once were. A stabbing pain in his chest for the children he still feels they are.
“Can we talk more tomorrow night?” James asks as he’s pulled up.
“Yeah,” Sirius says quietly. “Um, we have a meeting soon so.” He makes a vague gesture at the door.
James nods in response and they are walking out the door and down the hall side by side. From the top of the stairs he can see the boys and Lily by the door, grabbing their bags and saying goodbye. Remus looks up at Sirius, and James can see the pain woven into his visage.
As soon as they reach the door Harry is at Sirius’ feet demanding to be picked up. Big green eyes shining in the entryway’s light that Sirius could never deny. “Harry! How do you feel about the idea of a broom for your birthday?” He asks scooping him up. “You’re gonna have to start young if you want to be one of the best.”
“That. Sounds like a recipe for disaster” Lily says as she pulls away from Remus.
“Pft. It’s in his blood, Lils.” He smiles then sets Harry off again by tickling his adorable little stomach.
“That it is,” James nods. “I had one when I was a kid. Only got minimal brain damage.”
Lily looks at him speculatively. “Mm-hmm.”
“I’ll get him a helmet,” Sirius says. He looks down at Harry and moves the toddler's hair from his forehead. James can tell he’s putting on a brave face.
“We’re going to be late.” Chimes in Peter, already half out the door. The sky framing his head has turned a soft purple, the sun almost completely disappearing behind the horizon.
“Hold on Pete, why the rush?” James says, striding forward and giving him a hug.
“It was nice seeing you James.” Peter mumbles into his shoulder. “But. I don’t want to be late.” He says as he pulls back and gives Lily a smile. “I’ll see you guys there.” He nods at Remus and Sirius somewhere behind James before turning and walking down the path out the front garden.
“Huh.” James breaths. A bit baffled. “When did he care so much about being punctual?” He turns back into the entryway. “He used to be as bad as you Pads.”
“It’s been going on for a while.” Remus says, pulling on his coat. “I think the schedules just comfort him, I don’t really know.”
“You’ll come by tomorrow Remus? I don’t care what Dumbledore says.” Lily asks as she stands on her toes to give him yet another hug.
He closes his eyes and rests their heads together, “I’ll try.”
“Hey.” Sirius says to James. The light above their heads has drawn in a few moths from outside. They swarm above them. Brown wings fluttering sporadically trying to get as close to the light as they can.
“Hey.” The thoughts from their conversation upstairs are still buzzing in James’ head. His fingers twitch to reach out and stop them all from leaving. Hold them captive in the house if he has to. Anything to keep them safe. Sirius could be killed tomorrow, a mission James doesn’t know about, or just outside a muggle bar. It could happen anywhere. He feels so helpless.
Sirius gives him a sad smile. “There you go Haz,” he says, putting Harry down then wrapping his arms around James’ shoulders. James doesn’t waste a second before holding Sirius around his waist so hard it must hurt. Something feels wrong. A deep sense of foreboding lingers over them. He’s reminded of the feeling on the train ride home after 6th year. It had been the last time he saw Sirius before his mother woke him up in the middle of the night saying his best friend had shown up, bloody and shaken. He had run downstairs and clung to Sirius by the front door in a moment scarily similar to this one. Two boys scared and sixteen; Two men scared and somehow twenty one.
Sirius moves to pull away but James just squeezes tighter, taking fistfuls of his shirts. His eyes are clamped shut, the sound of his quick breaths are all he can hear. It’s almost like their lives are flashing behind his eyelids. Quick glimpses of boys figuring out who they are. Pillow fights in messy dorm rooms, Quidditch matches in the rain. Confessions behind curtains and fights with venomous words. Weddings and a hand on his shoulder as he holds his newborn son. Sirius.
“You’re my brother.” James confesses into the material of Sirius's shirt.
“I know.” He says holding James just as tight. “I know.”
His brother. Two consciousnesses split in half at creation.
“I’ll see you as soon as I can,” Sirius promises.
The twisting in his stomach persists but what is there to do? They could run away together, abandon the country completely and leave the others to fight the war. But even if they took Harry and everyone they love James knows somehow, they’d be found. He can’t risk them, risk his baby boy.
“Yeah,” is all he can force out.
Sirius is pulling away again and taking a part of James with him. A part he hadn’t known he was giving away until after it was gone. He lets him go this time. They’re going to be late.
“See you James.” Remus says as he moves in to give him a hug. Again James clings to his friend. He didn’t get to ask how Remus was.
Time seems to move in little bursts. One second he’s holding Remus and the next he’s looking into Sirius’s eyes while he’s promising to send Harry a broom for his birthday. It’s slipping between his fingers.
Footsteps.
Lily standing next to him while their friends walk down to their front gate.
Sirius looking back.
The sound of them Apparating.
His brother gone.
•●✧●•
He puts his book down on the bedside table as Lily walks in. “He go down alright?”
“Out like a light.” She smiles sweetly.
He sighs, “that's a relief.”
Harry has never been a baby that sleeps easily. Ever since they brought him back from the hospital it’s been a constant battle of sleepless nights. James and Lily’s lives revolve around him entirely. They sleep when he sleeps, eat when he’s hungry and catch their breaths when he’s happy to play, but even that doesn’t last long. James wouldn’t change a thing.
He watches Lily walk over to her dresser and grab a nightshirt from the meticulously folded array of clothes. His eyes follow her movements a little transfixed as she pulls her sweater over her head, releasing her hair from a loose ponytail. Long strands of fiery red hair glowing in the lamplight cascade down her back, so long they almost lick the curves of her hips.
“Enjoying the view?” She questions with her back still facing him.
Yes. How could he not? Lily is perfect, even in the ways she's not. People had told him that the feelings would fade and dull as they got older. That school romances never last more than a year after graduation. But here he is, married to the girl who would insult him in the hallways when he deserved it, the girl who never laughed at his jokes until she did, whose glare across the table in the Great Hall turned into shy glances. The woman who gave them their greatest gift of all. It scares him sometimes but his love for her is as strong as ever.
He feels his lips crawl up into a smirk. “Maybe.”
She turns around as the baggy nightshirt is pulled over her head. “What about now?”
“Lily, darling. I would still want to fuck you if you were in a rubbish bag.” He replies honestly.
“Oh, is that so?”
“It is so.”
“I wouldn’t fuck you if you were wearing a rubbish bag.”
James gasps dramatically and sits up, bringing a hand to his chest. “How dare you! I’ll let you know I can really pull off a look like that.”
“Oh, and you would know from experience?” She says, tilting her head as she slowly approaches the bed.
“Yes actually. It was a dare back in school and everyone said I looked rather fit.” Why is he actually getting offended by this? “What makes you say I wouldn’t look good?”
She stands right in front of him, their knees almost touching. “I didn’t say you wouldn’t look good, I said I wouldn’t fuck you.” She says with a small shrug.
“Why?” It comes out in a whisper. Lily’s standing so close. James can smell the soap she used in the shower, it's some kind of floral scent that always makes his head spin.
“I have standards, you see.” She says, her voice like a siren's call as she places a knee on either side of James’ legs, positioning herself in his lap.
He brings his hands up to rest on her hips. “You wouldn't sleep with a man wearing a rubbish bag but you’d marry one whose run across a Quidditch pitch and back in nothing but?” He questions leaning in so their lips are only centimetres apart. He thinks they're going to kiss until Lily abruptly leans back and starts laughing.
“No-” more uncontrollable giggles, “no way you really did that!”
“What!? Yes I did, Sirius said it was hilarious!” He tries and fails to justify.
“Circe, maybe I shouldn’t have married you.” She says, her face scrunched up.
“Wow.” James says with a straight face before wrapping his arms around Lily’s back and flipping them over. She lands with a shriek as the bed groans beneath them. “You're so mean to me!”
Lily says nothing, she only looks up at him with those bright enchanting eyes. He watches as they move left to right and back again as she scans his face. The dark green stands out against her pale milky skin as they settle on his lips. Their first kiss had been horribly awkward. They were seventeen and too drunk for their own good. James remembers that even through the cloud of alcohol fogging his brain he’d been incredibly nervous. That moment had been in his head since he was fourteen and it was actually going to happen. Overzealous, he had used too much tongue and spit, which somehow caused Lily to spend the next minute coughing in the middle of the common room. Through it all she’d assured him it was okay.
They don’t kiss like that anymore. James leans down and brings his mouth to her beautiful smile, Lily immediately hums in agreement. He can taste her strawberry lip balm as their lips move together. She lifts her hands up to remove his glasses, throwing them somewhere on the bed. She brings them back to gently pull at his hair, making the breath rush out his nose. James’ forearms start to burn from holding up his own weight, a delectable mix of pain and pleasure circulating beneath his skin making his blood run hot. He shifts, bringing each arm down and resting on his elbows. The kiss is slow but Lily’s hands are anything but. With one still threaded in his hair she moves the other to his back. With each push and pull of their mouths her hand grabs a little more firmly at his sweater.
As James opens his mouth and the kiss turns deeper, she wraps her legs around his waist. He lets out a groan and feels Lily’s lips pull up at the reaction she got out of him. James can’t help smiling a little into the kiss as well. He loves her so much. She’s his life, the very air he breathes. If she were gone, he’d suffocate.
If she were gone.
A chill runs down his spine at the thought. Since the afternoon, the line between life and death has never appeared more thin to James. How would he take care of Harry by himself if she were to die? Nothing comes to mind, he simply can’t picture a life without her in it. His mind might not want to imagine it possible but that doesn’t change the fact that it entirely is. After what Sirius said it sounds more likely than ever to be a reality. In a day, week, month the inevitable could happen to her.
“Hey, what's wrong? Why’d you stop?” He distantly hears Lily ask, the soft sound of her voice guides him back to the present. He can see her chest rise and fall with each breath in and out and in and out and in- “James, what’s wrong?” She asks yet again as her hands grab each side of his face, lifting it so their eyes meet.
Her eyes are searching for him, each fleck of green full of life. “I- I’m sorry, I don’t really feel like it right now.” He says.
“It’s okay. Here, why don't we lay down.” She speaks again in her soft voice.
Their limbs untangle as they find their places facing each other with their heads resting on the pillows. James can’t stop looking at every detail of her face, every freckle and eyebrow hair. It seems so important now to memorise everything about her all over again. He has to make sure he hasn't missed something the hundred times he’s done this before, double check that something new hasn’t formed.
“What's going on in that big stupid head of yours?” Lily whispers into the space between them.
It takes a few seconds for him to reply. “I’m scared,” he says with a sigh. “I don’t know, I guess I’m always scared, scared of what might happen to any of us, at any moment. And there’s nothing I can do to stop it. But when Sirius and I went upstairs earlier, and he told me what had happened to the twins… he just made it sound like we’re on borrowed time. And I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to him, and before I was just looking at you and I couldn't picture a life for myself without you in it and it’s just so scary Lily, I don’t know what to do.”
“Oh James,” Lily says, wiping a singular tear from his cheek. “You won’t lose me. I don’t think there’s anything that could tear us apart… not even death.”
“You’re not really making me feel better.”
“What am I supposed to say James? All that’s left for us to do is love who we can and hope that it will turn out alright. But it’s also a possibility that something might happen to me or someone else you love. And that’s always been there, it’s simply the price we pay by living.”
“I don’t want to lose you.” He’s crying again but even through the tears he sees the heartbreak in her eyes.
“I know, I'm sorry,” she says as she shifts forward and slides her hand over his back. Why now has it all become too much? James knows death, he’d suffered its blows when his parents died. It took him a long time to come to terms with it but it seems the stitches in that old wound have been torn open yet again revealing the fears he never healed.
“I-I’m sorry the girls couldn’t come today,” Lily didn’t even get to see her close friends and here he is crying over what could happen. Something they all knew was a possibility when they signed up for this Godforsaken mess.
Her warm hand continues to rub small, soothing circles on his back. “Me too.” She smiles sadly, ”We’ll just have to make plans for another time.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You’ve done nothing James. There’s no need to be sorry.”
The circular motion of her hand causes the sensation of sinking into matters to creep up on James. He hadn't realised just how tired he was. The lack of sleep last night paired with the emotional tax of his conversation today makes his eyelids heavy. He tries to fight it, each blink a battle to keep them open.
“It’s okay James, you can sleep.” That’s all he needs. The mere presence of Lily there with her arms around makes him feel safe enough to close his eyes and be pulled away.
“It’s okay.”
•●✧●•
The sound of distant crying jolts James awake. Any peace he had found in sleep instantly drains from his body as his heart pounds violently behind his ribs. He scrambles into a sitting position as his eyes dart around the room. The only light coming from a slight gap in the curtain. It takes him a couple seconds to remember where he is, the four walls and familiar smell slowly coming back to him.
He sits up and tries to slow his breathing, the chilly night air filling his lungs over and over again. He brings his hands up to rub harshly at his eyes. A deep need to protect runs wild through his whole body upon hearing Harry’s cries. It was wishful thinking that he’d sleep through the night.
James looks beside himself to find Lily under the covers, her brows furrowed even in sleep. With a sigh, he feels around the bedside table and finds where she must have put his glasses once he fell asleep. He feels a bubbling of shame at the reminder of her comfort. Ever since he was a kid James has always been more comfortable giving rather than receiving with such things.
The cries from across the hall persist as he climbs off the bed. He hadn’t even managed to get under the quilt earlier in the night. On unsteady legs James makes his way through the dim room towards the door. He’s done this almost every night for a year straight; the need for light has long since been unnecessary.
“James?” Lily mumbles from the bed.
“I’ve got it, Lils, go back to sleep.”
“M'kay.” She complies, still half asleep and oblivious to the world around her.
Still blind he makes his way to the source of the cries. James could never understand how other parents made the choice to let their kids ‘self soothe’. Lily suggested it when Harry was a couple months old but James had broken before the first night was over. His baby’s cries felt like tiny blades to his heart. He still wonders if that was the wrong thing to do. If his decision is the reason Harry has such a hard time sleeping when most children his age would have grown out of it by now. He wonders a lot. A constant mantra of question repeating in his head. Is Harry too young to eat that? Should he be talking more? Is his head looking weird? Hey! Lily, come here! Does that seem normal?
The truth is, he has no idea what he’s doing. He himself still feels like a kid half the time, a kid in the middle of a war with a wife and kid. It’s days like these when he feels utterly helpless that all James yearns for is the comforting embrace of his parents. A profound want deep in his bones to feel the buttons of his dad's shirt digging into his cheek as he’s held tightly. To hear what his mother would have thought of Harry and to send her a letter asking for advice. Oh, how badly he needs advice.
James creaks Harry’s door open to find him bawling his eyes out laying down in his crib. He hadn’t realised how much he needed to see the toddler cast in the soft light of the enchanted ceiling. Only now walking into the room does he finally feel his heart return to a normal rhythm.
“Hey buddy.” He says in a soft voice. Harry looks up at him with the stars and moon reflected in his eyes. The tears stop but his bottom lip still trembles. “What's the matter, hey? Bad dream?” He leans down and presses a kiss to his forehead, “hmm?”.
“Pad, Pad.” Harry whines quietly. It feels like a punch to James’ gut.
“You miss him too?” James asks. Harry nods as his eyes turn glassy yet again. “Shhh it’s okay he-he’ll be back soon.” He doesn’t know if he’s saying that for Harry or himself, either way neither of them find much comfort in it. Little gasps start leaving his mouth as more tears well and fall. James stands up straight and scans the room for a stuffed toy that might calm his son down. If Harry gets himself worked up enough, he won’t sleep at all for the rest of the night.
James spots his wand sitting on Harry’s bookshelf-with his head being such a mess he hadn’t realised that he left it in here. He strides over and grabs it, not thinking twice as he runs his thumb over the engravings in a kind of ritual he’s practised since he got it.
“Here Harry, you want to see Uncle Padfoot?” With a flick of his wrist James cast a spell. Gold light erupts from the tip of his wand and travels in wispy strings through the air before forming a circle above the crib. Harry looks straight up, eyes wide and mouth open mid-cry. James points his wand again and focuses intently as the spinning light slowly takes shape. First the antlers appear, then sturdy legs and body, until a mini Prongs is prancing around in a circle above his son's head. Another flick of his wand. Padfoot, made of gold light glowing softly, chases the buck, followed closely by a large wolf and finally a small rat.
James regards Harry. His face is bathed in light, and a look of awe seems to be fixed on his face. He sighs and slides his wand into the back pocket of his trousers. It’s only a temporary solution, soon Harry will ask for Sirius again and James will tell him the same conciliating vague answer. The pain left in the wake of one of Sirius’ visits is always horrid. During the following days James’ mind sometimes supplies brief thoughts of it being better if he hadn't come. He scolds himself each time, saying it’s better to have had something than nothing at all. But his pain combined with Harry’s seem to mix into a cocktail of resenting feelings searching for someone to blame. And no matter what James does he can't cleanse himself of them entirely.
The wooden crib squeaks faintly as James leans his weight on it. He folds his left arm on the railing and nestles his chin into the crook of his elbow. The long dark hairs on his skin tickle his nose with each breath. He can see the slim white teeth in Harry's mouth as his son smiles brightly at the animals overhead. He’s never seen a real one. The reminder twists James' gut violently.
Harry has never seen a real animal and he’s almost a year old. He’s seen Peter, Sirius and himself in their animagus forms but nothing else. Has he at least seen a bird from the windowsill? James can’t recall. What a messed up world they have become trapped in. One with no escape in sight.
James would do anything for Harry and the idea of this life in this house being his son's undivided future sickens him. Harry is simply too bright for an existence trapped in darkness. His son is kind, passionate, and brave. All these lovely things that if given the right care and attention should blossom and grow. Harry deserves a good life, full of love and opportunities. He should be able to go outside and run around like the kid he is, scraping his knees and giggling into the afternoon sun. He should be able to go to school and make lifelong friends just like James did. Get into trouble, fall in love while being wild and free and young. He should be able to make decisions about who he wants to be and what he wants to do with his life. Get married and have kids, or travel the world sending owls from every corner of the globe. James just wants a future for Harry where he’s happy. He wants a future for himself where he can watch.
There's people, horrible, vile people just outside their front door who seek to crush any chance they have of a life like that. People who wilt the possibility just a little more every day. James just wants to protect him, protect them all. It’s something he’s always wanted, he realises. Since he was a kid. It’s a shame he was never much good at it.
James reaches out his arm and moves a lock of Harry's curly black hair away from his face. They try to keep it short most of the time with Harry’s hair being a carbon-copy of his fathers unruly mop, but Harry has recently been firmly against the idea of scissors anywhere near his head. James brings his finger back down across his skin, bronze in the light from above. He stops a Harrys thick eyebrow and glides it gently across his smooth skin to his hairline and back. Feather light touches that James’ mother used to do to help him sleep as a kid. About ten of these repetitive movements combined with the pack circling his head has Harry blinking slowly. James knows all he needs is one more thing.
“Close your eyes.”
His voice soft and slightly out of tune fills the silence of the night. Sirius had bought a popular muggle record for James a couple weeks ago. It only had two tracks and was a clear divergence from the usual rock his friend would send, which he had thought was odd at first but when he listened to track a, Beautiful Boy, James had felt an instant connection.
“Have no fear
The monster gone
He’s on the run and your daddy’s here.”
Harry fights to stay awake. James watches as his long eyelashes brush against his full cheeks, staying there for longer each time, the weight of his heavy eyelids dragging them down.
“Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful
Beautiful boy
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful
Beautiful boy.”
The battle is futile. Harry’s eyes finally sink shut and the toddler drifts off peacefully.
•●✧●•
His beautiful boy.
He never did see him grow up.