“ What am I to you…? “
Sirius asks it in the dead of night.
The room is pitch black around them. It's not that noticeable, when they're hidden under the invisibility cloak anyway, bathed in their own kind of darkness. It had helped, he said, to imagine that no-one could see them right now, and James couldn't have refused him.
He didn't want to. He never wants to.
It makes sense, that the estate was the first place Sirius had thought to come to. Going home wasn't an option, especially not when home was no longer home. And while every part of him wanted to go face Sirius' parents himself, that wasn't exactly an option, either. There were far too many stupid politics in play, and with rumours about some kind of dark age happening amongst pureblood families, it was something he didn't want to get involved in.
But this was the beginning of it. Sirius refused to commit to their ways, and this was the price he paid.
His parents had been understanding. Loving. They had opened the door to Sirius without a second thought, welcomed him into their home, had set up a bedroom to call his own. They'd stocked the pantry with Sirius' favorite foods, even without him asking, - hell, he'd stayed quiet for most of the night, sitting out on the back step, staring into nothingness.
And now, the question comes, small and scared.
Sirius has never been small and scared.
James is hurting all over.
".. we've always been different," he mumbles back, and he can see how the cloak is helping. He feels safe, shielded, undetected, and he can speak without any fear.
He could always speak his mind around Sirius, anyway.
"Me and you, I mean. I know it's always been the four of us, and it always will be, but, -" Something catches in his throat, and James swallows around it. "But we're different. I think we were always meant to be together. You were always supposed to come here."
He hopes it's what Sirius needs to hear, and he pushes on.
"I'll always be with you, you know." James says it in a whisper. "I'll always be on your side. Even when we're a thousand years old. It's always been me and you."
here’s a beautiful and smiling kat to make your day immediately better ╰(◡‿◡✿╰)
A faceclaim only goes so far, and even then sometimes their accuracy next to the vision in your head is only so-so. Send a symbol for a clearer picture!
☼ How does your character usually dress in daily life?
♔ How does your character usually dress for a fancy event?
✍ How does your character usually dress when going to work/school?
✂ How does your character usually style their hair?
♔ What (if any) jewelry does your character usually wear?
∇ What (if any) make-up does your character usually wear in daily life?
▼ What (if any) make-up does your character usually wear for fancy events?
👠 What kind of shoes does your character usually wear in daily life?
👓 What kind of mobility or assistive devices (if any) does your character use in daily life? (Glasses, canes, hearing aides, wheelchairs, etc.)
✗ What (if any) scars does your character have?
♠ What (if any) tattoos does your character have?
☾ What (if any) birthmarks does your character have?
Ұ How short/tall is your character compared to their peers?
■ How thin/heavy is your character compared to their peers?
8 Days of Simon Lewis Positivity: Simon Smiling + Blue
‘ hold up ‘
He lets out a strangled yelp as the collar of his shirt is roughly tugged from behind, and James tries not to trip over his own feet as he's pulled back into a doorway. He's already on high-alert, heart beating rapidly in his chest, pounding in his ears, and changing their hiding place had been a bad decision. His palms are sweaty, grip loose on his wand as his back is pressed against the cool stone of Hogwarts' ancient walls, and while part of him wants to keep pushing forward, to keep their heads low and their position a Godric-damned secret, it's becoming an increasingly difficult tactic to maintain. Sirius is nowhere to be found, after taking a wrong turn on the fourth floor, Remus and Peter having split off within moments of the team's arrival. James feels decidedly out of place, nose-to-nose with Marlene in the tiny doorway as rushed footsteps hurry by, not stopping to investigate their spot. It's the most intense game of muggle hide-and-seek he's ever played. Not that he's ever played it before. Marlene is staring him down, gaze pinned to his own, and James can't look away. It's years of friendship, over a decade of knowing each other, bottled up into one intense stare-down that he doesn't actually remember agreeing to take part in. There's a storm in her eyes, he notices, something that's always been brewing under the surface, - and not for the first time, James is wondering what's on her mind. She's his favorite type of mystery. She looks like she's about to say something when someone else runs by, again, footfall echoed in the halls around them, and James resists the urge to flinch when they come just a little too close to their hiding spot. "You owe me," she states finally, when the quiet that signals safety and a close call creeps up on them again, and James grins at her.
Ұ How short/tall is your character compared to their peers?
HEADCANON:
In the earlier years of Hogwarts, James would have been considered pretty tall. He'd hit a growth spurt early, which definitely made it easier to get onto the quidditch team sooner, rather than later. He learned how to use it to his advantage, though as the years have gone by, he's settled into a comfortable 'just a little taller than average'.
Tall enough to give Lily a kiss on the forehead, and to hold Harry on his shoulders so he feels like he's flying, and to make fun of Sirius for being a little shorter than him, he'd say. That's all that matters.
James: *sighs*
Sirius: You bored?
James: Yeah.
Sirius: …
Sirius: Wanna start drama for no reason?
James: …
James: Yeah, why not.
nighttimestorrm:
He was real.
That was the first thought that he had when James pulled him in for a hug. Instantly he wrapped his arms around his friend and clung onto him, hands grasping onto his shirt as though he was afraid he was going to just disappear. But right now he was here and he was real. James had always been the one Sirius ran to when things got too hard. He just knew what to do and say to make it seem easier to deal with. Yet, in this situation, he doubted anyone could make it feel better. Afterall, he was mourning for a life that technically hadn’t even happened yet.
“You and me both.” He whispered and managed a laugh as he hugged James tight. Where do you even begin trying to make up for lost time when you never even thought it was a possibility that you would ever see them again? Sirius could never have prepared himself for this.
“It’s been…it’s been a really long time, prongs.” He said and finally let go of James to look at him. He needed to pull himself together. Falling apart wasn’t going to help him figure any of this out. And if this was a second chance they needed to start changing things now. But, selfishly he just wanted to spend time with James and forget everything else.
And he was also just tired.
He knew they had to fight to change everything. Save everyone. But…he had already fought. He had done it once and failed. On more than one occasion. Was it really selfish to just…rest. He felt like it was. Especially when it was his friends lives on the line. But he had been through so much that the thought of doing it again made him feel sick.
What if they couldn’t change anything?
He’d rather stay dead than have to go through Azkaban again.
“What do you remember?” He asked gently. “If you want to talk about it. If not I get it. We don’t need to talk about it just yet.”
--
How long?
He wanted to ask the question, but it caught in his throat, fear strangling him then and there. He didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to try face the idea of Sirius ever having to go on without them, couldn’t, - and while they had all made plans, and written their wills, and came to their agreements and arrangements for the possibility of one of them ever dying, none of them had anticipated a situation like this. How could they?
It was like no magic he’d ever seen.
Clearly it was something. If Sirius was staring at him like he’d come back from the dead, which he had, and Harry was nowhere to be found, any trace of him gone from the house. The Daily Prophet had confirmed the date, and still, it was a hard pill to swallow. Without any logical reason, something had dragged them all back from the brink of death, -
And as much as James wanted answers, for a brief moment, he just wanted his brother.
He kept a hand on Sirius’ arm, using his grasp to tug him back over to the door. The back garden was cloaked, at least, not only in trees and greenery, but in enchantments that had been cast on the house for centuries. Ways to keep muggles out, and keep the magic in. It offered them some peace of mind, knowing they could live their lives without second guessing any peeping neighbors or passers by, and James was grateful for it as they took a seat on the back step, using his wand to light up a second cigarette. He passed it to Sirius, certain it wouldn’t be refused, and lit up another for himself.
What did he remember?
“.. you know what I know,” he admitted finally, staring out at the garden, noticing the tiny details of how much time had reversed. “He knew where to find us. And he did."
His mouth twisted up, fighting a pained frown, and James stayed quiet for a beat. He let out a breath, heavy, and shaking. The reason hung in the air between them, Peter’s name bitter on his tongue.
“Lily didn’t get away in time. I tried to give her a headstart, to get out, but I - I couldn’t. I couldn’t stop him. And we - we don’t know what happened to the baby, but, -”
He’s not here. He’s not here. He’s not here.
“.. it’s like we never had him at all, Pads. The nursery’s gone, the food, the pictures, his things. They’ve disappeared. The house is full of - fucking boxes, like we just moved in a week ago.” He shook his head as he said it, almost in disbelief. James lifted a hand to rub at his eyes, fighting back the tears. “None of it makes any sense.”
mcrningecans:
who: @jamiespxtter where: the potter cottage. when: january 1, 1979.
LILY STILL COULDN’T BELIEVE IT. James stood before her, flesh and blood, and she didn’t think it would ever fully settle in her brain. They’d stayed in the hallway for what felt like an eternity, her fingers digging into his back until she cried out what felt like all the water in her body. He’d wiped them away for her, and she’d kissed his cheeks, as if that would stop the tears. But more came, for both of them, as their new reality settled on them like a wet blanket. Where was Harry?
Like clockwork, though, they’d drifted into the kitchen. Lily, still sniffling, had begun to root through the cabinets to find the tea kettle, mostly because it kept her busy, but also because it had been a while, and she’d like to taste a cuppa again. She’d kept it in a different spot when they’d first moved in, of course, and eventually moved it when they started using it every evening. Now, the kettle was singing, and Lily used magic to pour two cups and deliver them. She didn’t have the energy to move, after all, not now, not when James was so close. All she wanted to do was stay beside him, and figure out what was going on. After all, they’d always been able to figure everything else out together. They’d get this too.
A small sip sent warmth through her body, and Lily allowed herself to breathe again. Shoulders fell, jaw slackened, eyelids lowered. They’d all been struggling since she’d woke, and Lily felt the tiredness that came with all these discoveries. Still, she didn’t want to rest. She couldn’t. Now, she needed a plan. She needed James. Her James. Lilys fingers reached for his again just because here she could. Here, at least, she had his hand to hold onto. “I don’t know what to say,” Lily managed, the first real words she’d spoken that weren’t obscured by her tears. What did you say to the person you loved most in the world, who you thought you’d lost? “His room is empty James. Like when we just moved in. The home office I wanted to set up? That’s what’s upstairs. A bunch of boxes full of ingredients. And, I mean, we’re okay… You’re not–” She sucked in a deep breath, because her eyes already were red-rimmed, and she didn’t need anymore tears to fall out by confirming what he already knew.
“What–what do you remember?”
--
He would have stayed there for a lifetime, if that was what she needed.
They both needed it, really, and James held onto his wife desperately, a hand threading through her hair to nestle at the nape of her neck, trying to soothe her as best as he could. That sensation alone simply didn’t feel real, - none of it did, and while part of him wanted to believe this was some twisted game the fates were playing on them, there was simply no explanation for it. Every shuddering breath she took, every sob that wracked her chest, James simply held on tighter, relieved to at least feel alive again. It was a small mercy, he knew, but what else could be said? Their home had changed, as had they.
He had died. He was sure of it.
Lily’s breathing calmed him. She settled, eventually, as did he; though nothing could ever pull him away from her. Not now. Losing her had been the hardest thing he thought he would ever have to face, and now that the reality was setting in, there were much worse things coming for them. Even as they made their way to the kitchen, James kept a hand on her, needing the solid, affirming reminder that she really was there. It was the only thing that kept him standing upright, kept him pushing through the agonizing, deep ache that had settled in his chest, a loss he didn’t quite know how to deal with. One he hadn’t prepared for. Dumbledore had never given them any warning about this.
She was working on autopilot as she found the kettle, and used her magic to make them both a cup of tea. He felt too sick to drink it, but took the warm cup in one hand anyway, another sensation that felt borderline bizarre. Their table is small enough to leave them sitting side-by-side, and James moved his chair to sit facing her, hunched forward, his free hand rested carefully on her thigh.
He needed to hold her. He needed to know she was real. She relaxed slightly, after a sip, and James let his hand move, rubbing soothing circles against her leg. His own autopilot.
“.. he killed me.”
Saying it hurt more than he could bear.
“I - I told you to go. To get Harry, and leave. And then - I looked at him, and he -”
James had barely put up a fight. He dropped his head, the guilt turning in his stomach, as he stared down at the cup in his hand.