one point perspective

i've always wondered where you've been

tell me if you wanted it at all

“you guys have everything?” mrs potter asks, looking at the four children standing in front of her on platform nine and three quarters. 

“yup.” sirius smiles, bouncing on the balls of his feet, ready to make a break for the train.

as mrs potter starts giving james and sirius hugs goodbye, mr potter grabs corvus’ attention.

“corvus, i have something for you.” he says, standing slightly to the side of his wife and pulling something out of his pocket.

corvus takes it, examining it as she turns it over in her hands. it's a round metal with a chain connected to it. it's dark and metallicy, with intricate designs carved onto its surface.

“what is it?” she asks, looking up at the man in front of her.

“a muggle pocket watch. open it.” mr potter nods towards the large circle.

corvus opens it, revealing a small clock on the inside.

“i thought you might like it.” mr potter informs, clasping his hands behind his back. “you don't have to keep it, if you don't like it, of course.”

“no, i- thank you. i like it.” corvus states sincerely, looking the man in the eyes.

his eyes are warm and soft. they're golden brown. they scream, home. they call, safety.

“here, let me put it on you.” he says, taking the pocket watch from her hands and slipping it over her head so it rests gently against the front of her robes.

“thank you mr potter.” corvus repeats, more genuine than she thinks she's been the entire time she's been staying with the potters.

“fleamont.” the man corrects, motioning his head to a spot behind corvus. “looks like someone's waiting for you.”

“cor, let's go.” regulus insists.

“coming reg.” corvus says before looking back at fleamont. “thank you, fleamont. i appreciate it, really. everything.”

“of course. you both are more than welcome to come home for christmas.”

corvus nods shortly, turning around and joining regulus on the way to the train as she tucks the pocket watch inside of her robes.

“you know we are gonna have to talk about it eventually, right?” dorcas informs from where she's laying sideways on her bed, looking at corvus. 

“can we just not, right now, cas?” corvus breathes out, looking at the ceiling. “i don't have the energy for this.”

“you're never gonna have the energy for this, cae. but we have to talk about it at some point.” dorcas argues, sitting up. 

“no we don't. cause it's none of your goddamn business, dorcas.” corvus snaps, still avoiding eye contact as she looks up at the blank ceiling. “so just drop it.”

“i'm not gonna fucking drop it, corvus. obviously something happened, and i wanna know. let me help you.”

“i don't need your fucking help, dorcas!” corvus finally sits up in her bed, looking straight at the other girl. “i'm tired of getting help. i can handle this myself. they wanted me to get the mark. that's why i left. no, i didn't get it. no, i didn't let regulus get it. no, i don't want to fucking talk about it. now leave me the fuck alone, meadows.”

and with that, corvus gets out of her bed and storms out of the room. she doesn't really know where she's going, just that she wants to get away.

her blood is boiling and her skin feels too hot. and if she doesn't get away now, she'll just say something worse. 

sometimes she really can be just like her mother. 

she somehow ends up on the quidditch pitch. she isn't really surprised honestly. when she needs to clear her head, she most always finds herself at the quidditch pitch.

there's something about flying just for the sake of flying. not to practice. not to play. just to fly. just to feel the wind in her face and not have her feet touching the ground.

corvus loves flying. always has. it was the main thing her and her brothers had when they were kids. they'd fly around in circles together in their backyard while their father sat below with a smile on his face, watching them.

she doesn't even realize that she's not alone on the pitch until she's in the sky, that's how in her own world she is. she makes it to the storage shed, grabs her broom, and gets into the air without realizing james potter is also there.

“merlin hates me.” corvus groans, leaning back on her broom as james smiles at her.

“aw, don't say that.” he coos, flying close to her. “whatchu doing here? it's almost curfew.”

“could ask you the same thing, potter.” corvus snaps back, raising her eyebrow at the boy. “thought you'd be with your mates. first night back and all.”

“i always come to the pitch the first night.” james explains, flying around corvus in lazy circles. “helps clear my head. the boys have gotten used to it.”

“i'm so glad.” corvus rolls her eyes, suddenly speeding away from him and flying around the pitch.

“you now.” james says, easily catching up, his smile not wiped off of his face.

“what?” 

“you didn't answer my question. you just diverted it. and i answered. so it's your turn now. what're  doing here?”

“same as you, i guess.” corvus sighs, looping back around the pitch, slower this time, taking in the light autumn breeze wisping through the air. “i snapped at dorcas. needed to blow off some steam. they've gotten used to it too.”

“why'd you snap at her?” james asks curiously.

“why's it your business?” corvus diverts, speeding up once more.

“it’s not.” james replies easily. “you don't have to tell me. just thought it might help to get it off your chest.”

corvus lets out a deep sigh, stopping in her tracks. she leans back on her broom, crossing her arms over her chest.

“i don't know, if i'm being honest. well, i do know, i guess. they're all just worried, i guess. and curious. they know me and reg live with you now. evan and barty saw us at florene’s.”

james nods his head, signaling that her remembers.

“i guess they're just wondering what led up to it. scared about what led up to it, really. and i do it a lot. snap, i mean. i don't know, sometimes when i just get too overstimulated, or i don't know how to process something, or i don't want to, i'll snap. made pandora cry once.”

“pandora’s the weird little blonde one, right? ravenclaw?” james questions, earning a tiny laugh from corvus.

“that's the one.” she confirms, trying and failing to keep the fondness out of her voice. “you make pandora cry, and pretty much everyone is now out against you. i hated myself for a little bit. i don't know, i guess sometimes i just portray the black family genes a little more than everybody would like.”

“that's not true.” james argues immediately, shaking his head like he's never heard anything as outrageous before. 

“how would you know, potter?” corvus bites, her voice sharper than she had intended. always sharper than she intends.

“because. i've seen you with regulus. your parents would never be that way with him. they aren't that way with him. or any of you. that makes you not like them.”

“whatever.” corvus rolls her eyes, lowering herself to the ground without any forewarning.

she hears a quiet puff of air before the swish of a broom follows her down. 

“i'm serious.” james says as he lands on the ground, quickly following corvus as she makes her way to the storage shed. “you're nothing like them.”

there's a long moment of silence, the sound of their feet hitting the ground ringing out between them at each step they take.

“you're kind.” 

corvus stops dead in her tracks, looking over at the brown skinned boy next to her, who stops at the same time as her, as if it comes naturally.

before she can think about it, or before her better judgment can kick in, she lets her eyes scan over the boy.

james has a few tiny beads of sweat stuck on his forehead, his hair windswept and seemingly more curly than usual. 

james potter is infuriatingly fit. always has been, really. he has light, golden brown skin, and eyes to match it. his hair is messy and untamed, and corvus has to resist the urge to pat it down, as she often does with evan and barty when their excessively fluffy hair gets on her nerves.

james has the quidditch body. the kind that just screams chaser. 

corvus hates him so much.

and he is so good looking.

“i'm not kind.” she snaps, breaking her eyes away from him and continuing her trek to the supply shed. she hopes it's not too much further of a journey.

“say as you will, but i know you are. know you can be.” james argues, jogging to match his stride with hers.

“leave me alone, potter.” corvus ignores him, wrenching open the door on the supply shed and haphazardly tossing her broom in her designated spot. 

“cor.” james starts, gently grabbing corvus’ wrist in his hand. 

corvus stops again, taking a long moment before she breaks her eyes away from where their skin meets to look him in the eye.

“why do you hate me so much?” james asks, letting go of her hand almost as quickly as he grabbed it. 

“don't ask questions you don't want answers to, potter.” corvus warns, not making eye contact with him as she walks back towards the castle. she's afraid she won't be able to break it if she does.

“who says i don't want answers?” james runs forward, spinning around so he's facing towards corvus, walking backwards. 

“trust me, you don't.”

“i do. i really do.” james stops without warning, causing corvus, who is staring at her feet to avoid any chance of looking at the boy in front of her, to run straight into his chest.

“whoa.” james exclaims, reaching his hands out to steady corvus.

her skin burns.

her head is full of hot coals.

james let's out a breath, staring straight at corvus. they're making eye contact, and corvus’ prediction that she wouldn't be able to break it is proving true.

“sorry.” james breathes, though he doesn't make an effort to move away. and neither does corvus.

for a moment, corvus thinks james’ eyes flit down to her mouth. this, for some reason her brain can't comprehend right now, makes her dart her own eyes down to his.

james licks his lips, his breathing stuttering for a second.

“you're-” he starts, and corvus looks back up to his eyes. “i-”

“potter, shut up. shut up right now.” corvus pleads, a little desperately, trying to get her thoughts in order.

“i much prefer james.” he says, and his eyes are back on corvus’ mouth, lingering long enough so that she knows she didn't imagine it.

“i don't care what you prefer. i-” corvus can't breathe. all she can think about is the fact that she's pressed up against james potter’s chest, his eyes on her lips and neither of them making to move away. “shut up.”

“what'll you do if i don't?” james whispers, nudging his face closer to hers, so that they're only a few inches apart, and she can feel his breath.

“shut up. shut up, shut up, shut up.” corvus pleads, closing her eyes and leaning her head forward despairingly. 

her forehead hits james’. she can feel the warmth of him against her skin, and she feels like she's burning up. like she's taking a bath in boiling hot water, but she doesn't want to leave.

oh, how much she doesn't want to leave.

“shut up. shut up.” 

“i haven't said anything.”

“i'm trying to get my head to shut up, not you.”

“unfortunately, i'm not very skilled in that area of expertise.” james informs, leaning closer to her.

“james.” corvus begs. she isn't even sure what she's begging for. whether it's for him to stop, or keep going, she doesn't know.

“tell me to stop.” james breathes, moving closer. slowly. ever so slowly.

corvus can feel his breath against her face. she doesn't want it to stop. and she wants him to leave. she doesn't know what she wants.

she doesn't tell him to stop.

he keeps moving closer. moving closer. moving closer.

until there's no more space between them. until the gap is closed. until their lips are pressed against each other. 

it starts off gentle. tentative. exploratory. 

and then it gets deeper. passionate. 

it's a fight between the two of them. 

all of the unspoken words and the years of loathing. 

all closed off. all hashed out in the process of two sets of lips against each other. 

maybe corvus doesn't hate him anymore. maybe she never hated him at all.