chapter 7 - jigsaw
i changed every part of me
until the puzzle pieces
aren't me at all
“ugh.” corvus groans, sifting through the drawers of the guest room in the potter’s house. her room.
“you okay?” james asks from the doorway, a furrow in his brows.
corvus immediately crosses her arms over her chest at the boy’s voice, hiding the bare skin littered in red.
“can't find a jumper. mine are all dirty and your mum’s doing laundry.” corvus informs, still rigid in her place.
james ducks out of the room without saying anything, causing corvus to crinkle her eyes in confusion, before he comes back in, a sweater in his hands.
“here.” he says, holding the neatly folded dark red jumper out to the girl.
“you don't have-” corvus starts, but james just reaches his hand further out.
“take it.” corvus complies, reaching one arm out to grab onto the jumper.
james catches sight of her arm before she can pull it away, gently grabbing her wrist and tracing his fingers over the vibrant red scratch marks.
“what happened?” he asks softly, softer than corvus has probably ever heard him, which is saying something, since he's james potter.
“nothing. it's fine.” she bites back, hastily pulling her hand away and shoving the jumper over her.
it smells good, she notices. like the woods. which somehow doesn't surprise her.
“it's not fine.” james says, inching closer to corvus with unbearably soft eyes. “you're hurt.”
“james. drop it.” corvus demands, not breaking eye contact.
james looks pained, glancing to the now covered skin on her arm.
“please.” he whispers, and corvus feels her heart stutter.
she looks away, sighing as she reluctantly pulls up the sleeve of the sweater, revealing her arm.
it's an angry red, deep scratch marks reaching almost to her elbow.
james let's put a labored breath, rubbing his fingers gently over the marks on her arm. tracing them.
his touch is too gentle. it sets corvus on fire. but she doesn't pull away.
“corvus. can you look at me please?” james asks, looking back up to her as she glances to him.
“i'm fine.” she snaps, though her voice is crackly.
james’ hand is on hers. and it's warming her up. and it's gentle. and it burns. and it hurts. and she wants to pull away. and she can't. and she doesn't know why.
she's always been able to pull away. it's one of her specialties. reeling people in just to pull away when it gets too much for her. she doesn't know why she just keeps wanting to pull the line close when it comes to james.
“you did this to yourself.” james practically whispers, looking so pained that it almost hurts.
james potter in pain is against every law of this universe.
“i'm fine.” corvus repeats, tears starting to well in her eyes as she tries desperately to blink them away. she will not cry in front of james potter.
“you hurt yourself.” james insists, his grip firm on her hand, and corvus wants to scream.
“i'm fine.” corvus argues, only to an unconvinced look in james’ eyes.
“don't tell my brothers.” she says finally, heaving a deflated sigh.
“i won't.” james agrees immediately, shaking his head. “i promise i won't.”
“but, corvus, i-”
“no.” corvus snaps, finally pulling her arm away, james’ lingering burning touch still searing into her skin. she's pretty sure it's carved there now. etched beneath the surface, never for her to forget the touch of james potter. it makes her want to scream. “don't do that. i told you. i'm fine. i know you like playing the hero, james, but you don't need to be mine. i'm fine.”
“if you need to talk-” james starts, and corvus cuts him off again.
“i don't need anything from you.” she bites back harshly, letting out a sigh afterwards. “just- thank you for the jumper. i appreciate it. now just leave it be.”
james goes silent for a moment, locking eyes with corvus, shining bright with worry.
“okay.” he complies eventually, voice soft. “okay.”
and then he walks out of the room, leaving corvus alone.
~~~
“what the bloody hell does that even mean?” corvus laughs, rereading evan’s letter over regulus’ shoulder.
“who knows? it's evan, for merlin's sake.” regulus replies, a fond smile playing on his lips.
it wears off immediately once they see the boy standing in the doorway.
that's kind of just how corvus and regulus have gotten. comfortable enough with each other and their friends to show their emotions. able to smile and laugh and be soft around each other, but no one else. if it's not evan, barty, pandora, or dorcas, forget it.
“i'm actually glad you both are together.” sirius explains, seeming more reserved than usual. there's something corvus deciphers as determination in his eyes.
“i'm real glad we could grace you with our presence.” regulus rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest and shoving evan’s letter to the side, where sirius can't see it. “what do you want?”
“i want to talk.” sirius snaps back, moving in from the doorway.
“talking with you usually ends up in a screaming match.” corvus reminds him, sitting up taller on regulus’ bed that they're both sitting on. “like a ‘who can do it better’ type deal.”
“i don't want to scream.” sirius says rather bluntly. “i'm tired of screaming. we did too much screaming in that house. this house doesn't involve screaming. don't think it could handle it.”
“it's weird.” corvus says softly, looking around the room that euphemia and fleamont have allowed regulus to decorate. though, he only put one framed picture of all of his friends (not including him) on his bedside table, and that’s all. “feels too quiet. quiet in grimmauld could get you killed.”
“it takes some getting used to.” sirius agrees. and then he looks between corvus and regulus with a more meaningful look. “you will get used to it. i- i want you to get used to it. okay? i'm happy you're here. really.”
“no you're not.” regulus argues, leaning back against the wall. “you just feel like you should be. maybe you even want to be. but you're not happy we're here.”
there's silence for a moment, a tone of understanding passing between each of them in the room.
“you're right.” sirius sighs eventually, looking utterly deflated. and almost, ashamed? “i'm not happy. i'm actually pretty fucking pissed. but you're also right that i want to be. look, i don't regret leaving. i was entitled in every way to leave. but it doesn't mean that i didn't hurt the two of you in doing that. and i'll forever be sorry about that. i'm sorry i didn't turn around.”
“i'm sorry that i blamed you.” regulus says, looking almost begrudging.
“i'm sorry that i hated you. that i still hate you sometimes.” corvus admits, avoiding eye contact.
the conversation pretty much ends there. they sit for a few more minutes, just the three of them, not talking. just looking at each other. taking each other in. that's all they really need to do.
corvus doesn't say that it's okay. because it's not. and it never will be. she doesn't say that she forgives him. because she hasn't. that part, she's working on.
but something sits there between the three of them. something heavy. something profound.
nothing really happened. not when you really think about it. they didn't have a major breakthrough. or revelation. but just knowing that each other is sorry, it helps. it helps bring a comfort that they all do very desperately need, but don't want to admit to it.
the fact that they are really, truly, so far from similar to their parents, gives them that comfort they never wanted to admit to needing.
the fact that they are siblings, and they will fight to be that again.