That you’d be here anyway
James Potter has always loved Christmas, he loves the joy it brings everyone, he loves the warmth and the laughter. He has always loved the love that surrounds it, as families come together and friends celebrate together.
James Potter has always loved Christmas at home, loves his mum’s cooking and his dad’s attempts in the kitchen (he’s always being kicked out by the end with “oh flea how in heavens name did you manage to burn carrots? Carrots!” Or with “honestly, love just get out before you go and burn us all, your supposed to be a potioneer”
“I am a potioneer, but you know what else I am?” Would always be his reply and his mum would put her hands on her hips, apron covered in flour and hair a mess, but she would smile nonetheless, she would chuckle and say “what?” And he would grin, lean forward and whisper “yours” before kissing her on the cheek, winking at a small grinning James (and later cackling Sirius) and whistle Christmas tunes away (sometimes with a little skip)
James had always loved Christmas, when he was younger he loved the presents (a perk of being an only child meaning he got lots of presents) had always loved sitting as a family on the table and listening to Christmas songs. He loved sneaking down the stairs at night and watching his parents dance in the kitchen with no cares in the world but themselves and each other.
James has always loved Christmas but its always been special at Hogwarts, watching spirits lift and students laugh. He loves Christmas because he is always happy, he can dance and sing and hum and laugh and no one tells him to stop. He can spend ridiculous amounts of money on his friends and completely spoil them for no good reason but that it’s Christmas. He can go out of his way to buy McGonnagal something and cherish the way her lips twitch and she offers him biscuits (before ‘secretly’/ suspiciously sliding a neatly wrapped gift over her desk)
James loves to watch his friends excite, he loves watching something in Sirius sparkle, something in Remus relax and something in Peter grow. He loves watching Lily spend hours reading a Christmas carol and laughing as Mary dances with tinsel in her hair. He adores watching Dorcas cuddle Marlene on the sofas and sing her Christmas songs that are meant just for her. He loves making his friends wear the ridiculous Christmas jumpers that his mum and him make that are far too big and far too colourful.
He loves drowning Remus in new clothes and cassettes and him not being able to refuse them, he loves getting teas and hot chocolates from the kitchens and bringing them down to the common room. He loves making different charms that make the first years jump in surprise when a cloud of red and green confetti rain down on them and they laugh, he loves hiding little gifts around the common room for random people to find and he loves the overwhelming, aching, love and happiness that he bursts with, happiness that seems to radiate from every pore in his body and makes him feel a moment away from bursting at the seams.
He loves wearing a stupid antler headband on his head and stealing Remus’ polaroid to take too many photos. James Potter was made for Christmas and he loves it with his whole being, he has always loved it.
And this year he does, he loves doing what he has always does, helping Hagrid get the Christmas tree and put it in the great hall, hide small presents around the castle for people to find, showering his friends with love. Nothing has changed and yet everything has. Because this year there is no raging howler on the 20th of December from his dad giving him an early Christmas shout, this year he spends the week before the break knitting too many sweaters that give him blisters and takes up hours and hours because his mum had forgotten and couldn’t this year, because this year he isn’t whole and with every laugh and smile and sprout of happiness, there is an ache.
This year when he goes home, it won’t be loud and there won’t be ‘Christmas quidditch’ where his dad would force the boys to play with him (including Remus who could never say no to his dad) there will be a darkness that looms over every moment and lurks in every corner.
But he tries, he tries because he isn’t James Potter without Christmas, and he can’t, he can’t lose this too. He can’t lose another piece of himself not when this one is so big and important to him.
“What the fuck am I looking at Potter?” Regulus is staring at James as he holds a forest green, homemade jumper with a wonky R in his arms and a manic smile pulling at his lips
“You know I’m curious, when do you call me James and when is it Potter? Like is there a pattern I’m missing or-“ regulus mutters a small “merlin” skyward and James wants to laugh (he’s very cute when annoyed)
“What does it look like Black?” He asks mockingly, emphasising the name to which Regulus rolls his eyes. Then remebering what he’s here for, he begins to shake the jumper teasingly.
“Why do you have this…is that meant to be an R?” He tilts his head to the side, a frown on his forehead and James bites him lip. “You-you made this for me?” Is what he says after a second, and his voice is small, grey eyes flicking nervously from James and back to the jumper
“Uh, yeah yeah I did” Regulus is silent and James starts to worry, “I-i mean I make these every year you know for- for my friends and I made one for Crouch too because he’s you know, your friend and-“
“James” Regulus is smiling at him, amusement shining in his eyes “thank you, you really didn’t have to do that”
“Of course I did. We’re friends aren’t we?” Regulus nods, eyes downturn for a moment before heh looks up again, smiling softly “yeah friends”
“Right so here you go” he dumps the green jumper into the boys arms as he laughs before reaching into his bag and pulling another out, an orange one with a B on it that looks more like an E (at that point James had been half falling asleep) They grin at each other for a moment before James motions behind him. “Yeah, so I gotta go you know can’t be late for transfiguration. Merry Christmas Regulus”
Regulus stands there, arms full of colourful jumpers and a red blush scattered across his cheeks. He smiles. Raven curls falling over his eyes as they stand in an empty corridor. “Merry Christmas James” is all he says before James is walking away a grin still plastered on his face.
This Christmas is going to be different, its going to be hard and its going to hurt. But James Potter just gave Regulus Black a jumper and the giddy feeling he has cannot be extinguished.
Christmas at home doesn’t seem as daunting anymore, not with the promise of starry boys and late quidditch pitches and a warm lovely feeling that grows every time James sees the boy when he gets back.
"Are you going to stop crying anytime soon?" Regulus shares an exasperated look with Pandora as Barty lies on his bed, snuggled in his orange jumper that James gave him and crying softly into its wool.
"Merlin I'm sorry we can't all be emotionless, cold people that don't have hearts" Pandora snorts from where she sits at their desk, spinning around the chair whilst twirling her blonde hair.
Barty then narrows his eyes, trying to look menacing (even though his brown hair is a mess and his nose is red making him look too horribly adorable and pathetic) "you better not tell your boyfriend-"
"He's not my boyfriend-"
"Fine you better not tell your future boyfriend about this. It's embarrassing enough as it is"
"Glad we can all agree on that"
"can I just chip in" Pandora says still twirling on her chair even after Regulus had grumbled about ruining the floor. "He is most definitely your boyfriend i mean he literally knitted you and your best friend a jumper. Like Barty has never even spoken to him"
"Aha!" Barty exclaims sitting up, clicking his fingers at Pandora with an approving head nod. "exactly. Why weren't we friends before this?"
"because up until twenty minutes ago when you started sobbing over a jumper I thought you were an arrogant, narcitistic idiot." Pandora smiles sweetly as Barty's smile slips from his face and Regulus holds back his laugh
"Merlin this is what happens when you’re too handsome." He shrugs "people just assume you can't be this amazing and handsome but here I am being both-"
"Do you ever shut up?" Regulus cuts in, "Pandi you were so right for thinking him to be narcissistic-"
"Look just because you can't relate-"
Regulus doesn't even mean to laugh but he does, a full on deep, raucous laugh as he practically falls of his bed. “Y-you do realise I’ve been fawned over by men and women alike for years? Blacks are literally known to be attractive-“
Barty mutters something that sounds suspiciously like “whose full of themselves now” before dramatically falling back down onto the bed. There is a beat of silence before Barty interrupts, smirking “well always thought Sirius was rather dashing, I mean I think it’s the hair and the jaw line I mean if I could I would-“
He’s interrupted due to the pillow that is thrown in his face, effectively stopping him from continuing
Going for the unbothered facade, regulus stays sitting how he is, legs spread out straight, he looks at his nails uninterestingly “he’s taken Barty”
To which the boy scoffs before burying himself back into the jumper happily. Pandora merely laughs before hopping off the chair and striding to the door “right well it’s been…lovely it truly has but it’s time for me to leave. Bye boys, stay weird” before promptly leaving
“Did…did she just call us weird?” Before Regulus can reply there is a loud bang at the door. Both boys turn to each other, usually the other 5th years don’t bother to spend time in the dormitory unless to sleep.
Regulus stands up, hesitating only slightly before opening the door and coming face to face with Evan Rosier. He hears Barty make a choked sound behind him and the sound of him sitting up.
Evan Rosier stands casually by the door, his green eyes piercing, to anyone that looks he seems perfectly poised and calm. Regulus however prides himself in being observant and being able to read people, he can see how the boy’s hair is just a bit too messy as if he’s been restlessly pulling at it, and his eyes are darting across the room, searching with almost panic.
“Black”
“Rosier” regulus replies stiffly, unsure whether to let the boy in or protect Barty from this going any further. He watches as Evan’s eyes find what they were searching for, and though he may try to hide it Regulus watches him swallow thickly.
“Crouch-“
“Regulus shut the door” For someone who is usually so aloof and charismatic, it always takes him by surprise when Barty becomes harsh (when he becomes the Slytherin that once as a 3rd year made a 7th year cry and who is notorious in the wizarding World for being the cruel, disappointing son to Crouch sr.)
His voice is cold and devoid of emotion, something that’s so similar to what Regulus makes himself to be. He’s distracted by the sound of a scoff and turns to see Evan fidgeting, leg bouncing
“Crouch-“
Barty laughs cruelly “Crouch? Really? Even here you’re too afraid to what, call me by my fucking name?” Evan flinches, exhaling harshly before trying to get into the room but Regulus immediately closes the door on him
“Let’s not make a scene Rosier” Regulus says stiffly to which the other boy narrows his eyes before flicking them back to Barty behind him
“Can we just talk?” Barty scoffs
“We are?”
“Yeah I meant without the fucking body guard” he runs an agitated hand through his blond hair. “Will you just-you’ve been avoiding me for a week, a week.” He tries for another step and when Regulus doesn’t move he laughs, but Regulus can hear how choked up it is and can see that there are tears in his eyes. From the anger or true upset he doesn’t know. “Will you just-please just talk to me?”
“I mean it Rosier leave before I fucking make you” Regulus looks back to see Barty sitting there, unflinching and unable to look at him. “Wait-“ Evan looks at him for another second “are you crying? have you been-“
“Oh my god, get the fuck out before I do something I won’t regret” Evan stands there for another moment just watching before he turns and leaves.
Regulus shuts the door, before turning to his friend who flops back down onto the bed again and covers his face with this arm. “Don’t look at me like that” his words are muffled
“You can’t even see”
“Yeah but I can feel your gaze burning into me” he rolls onto his side and Regulus moves to join him on the bed
“Sorry”
Barty sighs “don’t apologise it’s-fuck” Regulus lies down next to him, so they’re facing one another “did I do the right thing?”
“I don’t know” because he honestly didn’t, he wasn’t good in these situations and he hardly knew where you drew the line when it came to morals. He didn’t know what it meant to be good or bad, he only knew how to survive.
“Ok” Is what Barty says
“Ok?’ Regulus asks, confused. But Barty just smiles and hesitantly takes Regulus’ hand not wanting to scare him.
“Ok” he takes a breath “can’t believe the fucker thought I was crying over him”
“No, you were only crying because James Potter made you a jumper” Barty laughs, shoving Regulus with a “piss off”
And Regulus just lies there, holding his best friends hand. He might not be able to talk or give comforting words, he might flinch at certain touches but this he can do
He can lay on this bed with his friend and look up at the ceiling (he can try and not think about what his mother would do if she ever got to see this memory)
But she won’t, Regulus thinks firmly. He won’t let her take it, he won’t let her ruin this or him. And there is no way in hell he’s letting her take Barty, over my dead body, is what he thinks.
It’s quite morbid actually, the thought that that notion wouldn’t even make his mother flinch. (After all, he of all people knows what Wallburger can do to a child)