GOOD INTENTIONS.

it’s not even past noon yet, and james potter has already punched someone. if this was during his hogwarts days, that would hardly be unusual ( back then, he used to have quite the knack for getting into physical altercations, after all ). but nowadays, he tries to ask questions first. save the punching for later. admittedly with varying degrees of success, but nonetheless... it’s a work in progress. like most things are. so as they saunter down the now melancholic streets of diagon alley, he almost feels ashamed of himself. almost. he’s not entirely sure if it’s because he should have punched harder, or if it’s because he threw the first punch. started the whole bloody thing. dragged his best mate into it too. but that’s... in the past. hopefully. his focus has shifted ( if only out of necessity ) towards the new problem at hand. the list. “ so what are we thinking? “ he says under his breath, nudging sirius with his elbow. hazel gaze flickers towards his friend, watching him, searching for answers. “ i’ve got the money to spare. but that seems a little too easy... “ he trails off, and his gaze darkens. he clears his throat, and a hand drags through his hair, making it a more ruffled mess than it already is. “ and about earlier. thanks for having my back.” 

he has had about a million things on his mind as of late. most things --- related to harry. of course. though james’ allegiance to dumbledore, and his distaste for the dark arts, may very well be the worst kept secret of the century, he now also has a family to think of. he can’t have them become additional targets... so granted, he’s worried. “ dunno man, “ he says, wetting his lips slightly, leaning forward across the table, hands folded in front of him. voice is lowered, intended only for sirius’ ears. “ another traitor among us? “ he whispers, his teeth clenching slightly, jaw setting. “ though, would like to take a quick look on that list myself. see who’s on there. think i’ve got a pretty good idea of some people who are fighting for the other side. “

  ----- “ wasn’t sure you were gonna come, “ he says, closing the hospital door behind him. a grin that is equal amounts nervous as it is just happy to see her plays on his lips, and he extends his arms into a hug. “ uh, everything’s all right. with the both of ‘em. they’re sleeping now though so... ” that same smile turns apologetic. a little sheepish. 

@canismajcrs​

“ --- could have done this myself, you know, “ he says, his voice lighthearted, but worry lingering right below the surface, making itself known in hazel eyes. they’ve stopped at the baby aisle in the local grocery store, and james is currently balancing two different boxes of diapers in his hands. as if they haven’t stocked up enough already. he seems to decide to get both of them, and tosses them into the cart, attention quickly refocusing on his wife. “ so what do you think? we got everything we need? “

" ----- sure would be a shame if someone hexed all the slytherin robes to be pink again, wouldn’t it? “ he says, tossing his feet up against the coffee table, leaning himself back in one of the chairs of the gryffindor common room. he doesn’t bother biting back the grin that is forming on his lips, and an eyebrow arches suggestively at his mate. “ isn’t it basically tradition at this point? i can’t think of any reason why good ol’ snivellus shouldn’t wake up tomorrow to find all of his robes have magically changed color.  “

there’s a slow laziness to his walk as he enters the ministry of magic, hands dug deep into the pockets of his jeans, shoulders hunched a little forward. a stench of cigarette smoke surrounds him ( not entirely unusual, but it has been a while since he came in smelling like he has smoked an entire box of cigarettes. seeing how he has been trying to quit, and all ). dark circles line his eyes, and there’s almost a sickly quality to him. he doesn’t look quite well. yet, there’s still half a smile ( more of a smirk, than anything ) playing on his lips as he saunters down the corridors of the ministry. but when he spots her, it fades. instead, it is replaced by a far colder look, darkness slipping into eyes that are usually so warm, so inviting, almost always playful. all of that disappears, when he looks at her. “ mckinnon, “ he says. very matter of fact. he gives her a quick nod, which is seemingly the extent of his courtesy. really, he shouldn’t be too surprised to see her at the ministry. after all, they both work there. them running into each other was bound to happen... eventually. he’s just about to continue past her, when he stops himself. “are you happy? i.... read about you in the papers,” he says, voice lowered, barely audible. his tone is curt, a little harsh. all politeness washed away. he doesn’t know what answer he’s expecting. what answer he wants. james has little room for forgiveness when it comes to those who’ve picked the wrong side, especially when it’s a former mate --- it’s a betrayal that cuts so deep that it never quite heals.

eyelids  slowly flutter  open  at  the  sound  of  her  voice,  and  a  soft  smile  grazes his  lips  as  he  wakes  up,  still  a  bit  groggy.  he  most  definitively  stayed  up  too  late  working,  last  night.  again.  a  hand  reaches  out  on  instinct, searching  for  her,  their  fingers connecting,  becoming  laced  together.  there’s a  slight  groan  as  he  pushes  himself into  a  sitting position  (  ribs  are  still  bruised  from  his  latest order  mission,  and  they  seem  to  intend to  make  themselves known,  make  him  feel  exactly how  poorly  their  mission  went  ).  back  leans  itself against  the  bed  frame,  and  he  studies her  carefully,  slowly blinking  away  exhaustion from  hazel  eyes.  “thought  i  was  supposed to  be  the  bad  influence,” he  says,  and  his  voice  is  still  a  little hoarse  from  sleep, yet  radiating  the  same  warmth (  and  slight  mockery  )  that  it  so  often  does.  he  has  never  been  one  to  like  being  cooped up,  stuck  in  one  place. he  prefers  being  on  his  feet,  in  the  middle of  the  action (  the  danger, the  war  ).  but  with  her  -  it’s  different. he  can  bear  it.  “  well,  when  you  put  it  that  way...  “  he  pauses, a  finger  waving a  circle  in  the  air  (  making the  tea  kettle start  brewing  downstairs ).  “  if  i  tell  them  i’m  gonna  be  a  dad  today,  i  don’t  see  how  they  could  make  me  come  in.  “  that  same  old  mischievous glint  that  plagued his  time  at  hogwarts  appears once  more  in  his  gaze,  and  he  gives  her  a  small  nudge.  the  low  sound  of  the  tea  pot  whistling  can  be  heard  from  below, but  he  doesn’t jump  to  his  feet.  he’d  like  to  stay  like  this,  for  a  little longer.  a  few  more  minutes, of  it  just  being  them.  the  world  so  very  far  away.   “  so...  do  you  think  today  might  be...  the  day?  “  he  asks,  suddenly  becoming a  little  more  serious.

he keeps an eye on the door ( half expecting a DOE PATRONUS to enter the wizard bar at any second, any minute.... any day now ), only half of his attention focused on sirius. which usually isn’t the case ---- but he has admittedly been on edge for the past couple of days. the whole not knowing when the baby is coming is... maybe freaking him out just a little bit. especially since he also knows that the baby is 50% him (  ---- aka 50% trouble ). attention eventually reluctantly diverts from the door to his best mate, and he breaks into one of his trademark smiles, any worry swiftly washed away from his features. sirius seems to have that effect on him. “ if you’re having second thoughts about this whole godfather thing, “ he says, leaning forward a little bit, an elbow leaned against the counter, his voice lighthearted. he’s giving him an out ---- a well deserved one ( ----- because godfather or not, sirius has always been there, will always be there ) . so he doesn’t want to burden his friend with something he’s not entirely sure that he wants. especially not after thinking he was SO sure what dorcas wanted. and look how that played out. though --- then again, he has always been more adept at reading sirius ( at this point, they’re one and the same, like brothers ). " meadowes seems like she might want to take over, “ he finishes, and warm eyes gain a slightly amused quality. " last chance to get out, pads. before you’re tied down for good... stuck with us. “