prongs

⚖️

Amelia had decided that she hated St. Mungo’s. Or, at least, she hated being stuck there, and she hated that she wasn’t going to be able to just get up and leave. They’d fit her for her brace, and she’d been trying out walking with it, but it left her exhausted and frustrated, and more than once she’d snapped at the Healers who were really just trying to help her. She just wanted to go home, and wallow alone there for awhile, if she were honest.

Sihtric had brought her some books, since he couldn’t get into the Ministry to get any work for her to do, and she was grateful for it. Still, it was hard to focus on reading when she was getting so annoyed by having to just lie there; Amelia was used to pacing and constantly moving, and she was restless. When there was a knock at the door, she looked up from the book she’d been staring at, unsure if it was a Healer, or someone else.

She gave a tiny smile at seeing James, putting the book down as he walked in, and let out a faint chuckle at seeing the flowers. “Thank you, I suppose at least seeing something different in here will be helpful in keeping me from smacking the Healers,” She joked lightly. Watching him sit the flowers down, she managed a faint shrug at his first question, unsure how she was really doing, but then wrinkled her nose slightly at his second question.

“I was told that the paper wasn’t being printed this week?” She spoke slowly, “though now I’m not sure if that’s true, or if they were just saying that in order to try and keep me calm, with how many times I’ve threatened to deck someone while I’ve been in here.” She gave another tiny smile, hoping James realized she was joking, before she asked, “Why? What was in it?”

.

James chuckled a bit. “I know that feeling. They’re doing their best, but the fake cheeriness gets a bit grating.” He knew he didn’t need to explain why he could relate. He didn’t linger on it, instead plowing straight into the next topic. The more important topic.

He handed her his copy of the paper, but quickly summarized. “They’ve declared Thicknesse the winner. Crouch, Lestrange, and Bagnold have all conceded.” He pulled up a chair and let her read for a moment. He rubbed the back of his neck to keep from running his finger through his hair, a habit he was trying hard to break. “Amelia, I was one of the first in line to vote long before the polls opened and I was in the atrium on guard duty for the elevators all morning. There were no votes cast. Not a one.”

The game was one of the rare ones where he hadn’t expected to be the one to snag the snitch, with the little bugger having proven to be near impossible to keep an eye on up until making a dive that should have left him somersaulting across the pitch. Thankfully, he avoided that and smoothly come to a stop. It was rather exhilarating but he managed to contain his excitement past having plastered a smirk over his lips the moment he locked eyes with one of the Gryffindor players and held up the snitch.

Regulus’ time in the changing room was spent dodging claps on the back and forcing a smile when muttering to the captain about joining Slytherin in celebrating instead of immediately retreating to his dormitory. He had made the winning play after all so joining for a little while would prove necessary unless he wanted the next week to be spent being questioned about not showing his face. 

There was the briefest moment of hesitation when James spoke, having taken him by surprise since he had barely made it five steps onto the field before being accosted. James’ smirk was met with a scowl and prompt shake of his head. “It was nothing,” The teen exhaled, scowl remaining since he had made the mistake of letting his gaze flick to James’. Regulus pressed his tongue against his cheek and let his eyes travel over the older teen’s form. “Probably could have done it with my eyes closed.”

James chuckled. “Probably. That’s more of a brag than being humble though, I have to say. Catching a snitch with your eyes closed takes skill.” He drummed his fingers on his arm, looking Regulus up and down in a purposefully exaggerated way. “I haven’t seen you in a while. Even tried showing up after a few of your practices, but you always seemed to run off so quickly.”

No one questioned James when he took his time in the dressing room after the game. It had become his habit, after all. Take the last shower and chat with the team in the meantime, and then take an eternity coifing his hair. It wasn’t even that out of character for him, so nobody even considered ulterior motives. Today in particular, the team desperately needed the distraction of James chattering away. They’d narrowly lost the final, matching Slytherin goal for goal up until Regulus caught the snitch. It was comforting enough for James to remind them that Slytherin’s captain was going pro next year, that there was still a party waiting in the common room regardless of the results.

A few of the older students questioned him about the rumors they’d heard – that James had said in his career advisement that he was planning on joining the Order of the Phoenix when he finished his NEWTs. James had nothing to deny. His advisement had run long, and people immediately had questions. McGonagall had tried to talk him into keeping with Transfiguration somehow, eventually managing to convince him that joining the auror program would help the war effort. He'd gotten the whole breadth of reactions already, so the mix of worried and encouraging looks was no surprise.

The surprise Severus felt that Wormtail had actually told Potter about that night was evident on his expression. Although it faded as instantly as it appeared, with a brow quirked up high, “One moment’s hesitation to make up for a lifetime of betrayals?” he questioned his thoughts aloud, drawling. While Snape knew he and Pettigrew were similar on many levels, that was the key difference Severus prided himself on. Yes, he’d made mistakes in his childhood and his gravest one gave him the dark mark; however, he then spent a lifetime making amends and living out his self-proclaimed sentence of unhappiness and sacrifice to honor the promise he made. To atone for those wrong-doings, “I should hope you remember your generosity in forgiving him, Potter…” he finished his drink, knowing he was here to confess his own transgressions.

Although, to buy himself some more time to think of how he was going to tell James, Severus made eye contact with Aberforth and the bottle of firewhiskey, getting a nod in return. The Slytherin then poured himself another large glass, watching as the liquid danced along the rim. He then set the bottle down with a sigh. Merlin…this was much more difficult than he had anticipated. Taking one more sip of ‘liquid courage’ as it were, Severus found the tenacity to look James Potter in the eyes and tell him how he played a role in his untimely death.

“The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…” Severus began, recalling that forsaken half of the prophecy perfectly, “Those are the words I overheard Trelawney tell Dumbledore during our interviews to become professors all those years ago…here,” his eyes flickered up to the nearby stairs as his face contorted with regret. Snape took a moment to compose himself as he gazed down to his arm where he’d received the Dark Mark after taking this information to his master. His eyes then went to meet Potter’s once again, “I didn’t know it was your son…if I did…” he trailed off shaking his head and took a small sip from his glass - finding it almost cleansing to finally tell the one’s he’d wronged, “When Voldemort put his target on you and your family, I asked Dumbledore to hide you all. In exchange, I had to work as his spy within the Death Eater ranks. Even after your murder, I continued to be Dumbledore’s loyal right-hand man, following orders and protecting your son. To which, I had my work quite cut-out for me, but I did so…seamlessly.”

Remembering these very words he’d spoken to Lily, a ragged breath was taken before explaining as Dumbledore had told Severus so long ago, “Voldemort asked Lily to step aside that night because I begged him to let her live. With her sacrifice, the curse rebounded and Voldemort’s soul split once more…and attached to the one living being. Harry,” Severus tapped his glass, knowing how much this was for others to take in, but he was one of the few who truly knew. And, like Lily, James had every single right to know, “Harry became a horcrux,” Severus took his hands away from his drink and folded them together, as he continued. His voice remained calm, albeit remorseful, with his expression solemn, “Thus, he filled the second half of the prophecy we’d come to learn all too well: the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…” 

Snape paused, his hand going to his neck where that phantom pain of Nagini’s bites lingered, “Dumbledore raised him like a pig for slaughter, tasking me to tell the boy at the opportune time, so that he could save us. I died telling Harry why I protected him all those years - through memories of Dumbledore’s private conversations and trust in me,” he took his hand away to take a last, slowly sip of the burning liquid, before stating without any hint of hesitation, “You should be very proud of him, James. Only, Harry should have never been put in that position.”

.

“Trelawney? The Ravenclaw girl in the year below us?” James’ brow furrowed. It was strange to think that all of this came from that bizarre girl with the thick glasses. But after a moment, he realized that Snape wasn’t pausing to let him speak. He was stalling. It took James a moment to understand what he was being told. Snape wasn’t a spy until after he told Voldemort the prophesy. He sat up a bit straighter at that. His statement about forgiveness made perfect sense. There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation between James putting that together and him reaching out to put his hand on Severus’ arm. “You didn’t know. That’s all there is to it, for me at least. You had no way of knowing who the prophesy meant, Severus. It’s not like we made a damn pregnancy announcement in the paper. Hell, I don’t even know what exactly counts as ‘defied’ there. He only tried to recruit us the once.”

As Severus continued, James sat back in his chair and listened. He crossed his arms over his chest. He was quiet for a few long moments even after Severus finished. The reassurance had him taking off his glasses and tiredly rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand. “That...fuck.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. His son had sacrificed himself for the wizarding world. It was a lot to take in. “That settles even more firmly for me that neither you or Peter is to blame. Dumbledore wanted Lily and I dead from the moment he heard that. He knew we would spend his whole life trying to find another solution if we ever found out the full prophesy.” 

Putting his glasses back on, he considered for another moment. So many things he’d heard were clicking into place. “I asked him to file a few last edits to our will, when we went in to have the Fidelius cast. I’d added in a clause that Harry couldn’t go to the Dursleys. He asked about it, and I told him that I was certain that Vernon Dursley would be cruel to any wizard he came across, baby or not. Dumbledore put him in a home with muggles he knew would abuse him for being magical. Probably to make him fall in love with this world that much more. He’s damn lucky it didn’t turn him into one of them instead. Would have been easy as hell for some Death Eater’s brat to convince him muggles were shit, with that childhood.”

James didn’t stop as he marched into the hospital. He couldn’t bring himself to stop more than what it took to get Amelia’s room number from the receptionist. He took the stairs so he didn’t have to stop in the lift. If he stopped, he would start thinking, and that was the last thing he wanted to do in the hospital. He barely stopped to politely knock on the door before barging in.

He gave Amelia a flicker of a smile as he walked in. He awkwardly stood there and held up a small vase of variously colored tulips he’d brought with him. “Hey. I, er. Brought some flowers. Makes the room a little easier to look at, I’ve found. How’re you doing?” He found a spot for the flowers as he sat down. He barely listened to Amelia’s answer, although he was somewhat worried about her. “Have you read the paper yet this morning?”

Election Day was electric. The atrium was full of voters, swarmed with activity, and Felix never felt more alive and more terrified all at once. Amelia running for Minister was a no brainer; she was the perfect candidate, always had been. Still, it felt like a rather empty excitement when there was fear living there. What would happen if she won? Who would target her first? It was impossible not to think about when war was on everyone’s tongue.

He pushed his way through the crowd, finding himself next to James Potter quicker than he’d realized. With a wry smile, he leaned forward, “Call me Felix, Potter. I’m not old… well at least not in body.” The last bit was said after a quick glance to make sure no one else was listening. With a small shrug, he leaned against the wall by James. “Not quite yet. Seems like a bit of a disaster if you ask me, but I just want to see anyone but bloody Lestrange.” His eyes wandered to James’s face and softened, knowing full well that they were both thinking of Rabastan’s death, and, thereafter, his parents. Felix couldn’t imagine having to watch Edgar and Amelia go again, and his stomach roiled at what was going on at the voting booth now. “If you don’t want to answer, you can tell me to bugger off, but… how are you holding up?”

...

James smirked a bit at the invitation to use his name. “Pretty sure I'd get lit into if they caught me calling a Wizengamot member by his name while I'm still technically in training.” Still, he winked and relaxed a bit, leaning against the wall. The casual way he admitted to remembering was refreshing. At this point, those who remembered were mostly connected enough that they'd heard of each other at the very least.

He hummed. “Nor Thicknesse,” he added in agreement with Felix’s declaration. He also glanced about. “If his interview with Skeeter is accurate, it's suspicious. Immediately struck me as someone trying to fight off an Imperius. No way to really get access to him to check, of course.”

James’ jaw set as the almost pitying look crossed Felix’s face. He hated that look more than anything. “I...” He didn't know how to answer for a moment. He glanced away to consider. “Better than last time around. I was able to make their last moments the best I could. Got to properly say goodbye, make them comfortable, all that.” He took a shaky breath. “I’m angry I wasn't able to change more than that. I... I wanted to give them more time. At least enough to get to meet their grandson.” He grimaced a bit at Felix but then shrugged. “I guess there’s a limit as to what we can change.”

Indeed, Severus was not eager in the slightest to hear about his old rival’s return to the past - thrust back into the arms of the woman he loved. All the while, he’d returned in a cold, empty bed with nothing to comfort him but the lies of an old man that, like Harry, raised him like a pig for slaughter. Nothing but the agonizing thought that all of his sacrifices in that lifetime had been for nothing…No. Snape would gladly skip over those pleasantries to refrain from lashing out at James from petty jealousy. 

How pathetic…Snape chastised himself at the mere thought, “Perhaps after a fair few drinks,” he mused at the lie before ordering a large glass of firewhiskey to nurse. Afterall, this would be a long night…

Hearing that James had spoken to Peter, Severus scoffed, “You spoke to Wormtail, then?” Severus asked before looking around and lowering his voice, “Did he mention his role in bringing back that monster from the grave? Or how he baited your son for death, even after Harry showed him mercy the year before?” Snape then took a large swig from his glass. Never had he been one to turn to alcohol for his woes or sorrows…but remembering that pivotal night when they had Lily’s killer within their grasp and reliving the trauma of that horrid place…all stung more than the burning liquid traveling down his throat.

Watching as James drummed his fingers against the glass, Severus sighed. There was no need to hide his emotions now, letting that wall down and reeling from the vulnerability and inner turmoil it caused. Severus tried to push it down, knowing his own guilt was swimming along those emotions, “Lucky for you, his right-hand man is sitting before you,” his eyes went to met the other’s, “Where would you like me to start? Chronologically? Or with how your son was the key to winning the war?” then Severus took another swig of his drink, mentally preparing himself to admit to his greatest mistake.

...

James rolled his eyes as Severus got caught on Peter. It seemed everyone did. He ordered to match Severus, but just kept his fire whiskey aside for now. “He did share that, actually. And the fact that he died because the hand he was given didn’t care for him hesitating to kill Harry. He confessed everything, Snape. From start to finish. If there’s something he did I don’t know about, it wasn’t a purposeful omission on his part.” He finished off his beer with a sigh. “He tried to hedge his bets when it looked like their side was going to win. When he realized how deep in he was, he went to Dumbledore for help. Instead, he was used. He didn’t betray us. He was ordered to turn over our location.” 

James’ expression was caught between a lot of emotions, but mostly between disappointment and disgust. “I really don’t know what to think about everything that happened after he brought Him back. He thought he didn’t have any other choice but…” James shook his head. It was too much to wrap his mind around. “What happened at Godrick’s Hollow wasn’t his fault. That much, I’ve forgiven him for.”

Severus’ sarcasm caught him off guard. It almost sounded like something he’d say. “Well, that bit I already know about. Every time I talk to someone who made it to that battle or after, it’s all talking about how proud I should be of him.” He rolled his eyes and took a sip of his fire whiskey. “I’ve put together it’s got something to do with that prophesy, yeah? We never got the full text of it. Or any of it, actually. We were just told that He believed that Harry was the one prophesied to defeat him.”

The back and forth between the letters had been helpful in lessening Snape’s anxiety towards meeting his old foe. It was a sign that the other, who was likely as nervous, was willing to work with Snape and keep his cover. And, while Lily had requested Severus stay away from her and her family, this was true to Snape’s word that he wouldn’t if it meant protecting her. If Lily had every right to know about the prophecy and her son, so did James.

Coming down to Hogsmeade from the school had been a trail Severus was all too familiar with - bringing back painful memories he had tried to suppress. It seems even a new reality couldn’t make that easier. Walking through the doors, Severus spotted James drinking a pint. With a calm air about him, Severus went to the table and said, “Evening,” in a tone that matched the other’s, as he reached into his robes and plucked out the familiar fabric of the invisibility cloak, “Thank you for that. It helped accomplish the mission with ease,” Snape said honestly as he handed the cloak to James and sat down. The word professor made Severus shake his head slightly, “Luckily, I’m not dealing directly with the students quite yet. The last class was enough for two lifetimes of teaching,” he said pointedly, remembering how much Potter and his friends gave him trouble throughout the years, “We can spare the pleasantries, Potter. Unless you’re eager to share the details of your day after being swept back into this life after so long.”

...

James easily slipped the invisibility cloak into his own pocket. before anyone could look at them. “You’re welcome. Glad it could help make the disaster of that night have nothing to do with you.” He still wasn’t entirely sure what had possessed him to give Snape the invisibility cloak, but he truly was glad that it made everything easy. He took a sip of his pint as Snape sat down, chuckling a bit at his words. He wasn’t entirely sure what they meant, but they were clearly pointed at him somehow. 

But of course, Severus wasn’t willing to beat around the bush. Never was. “Right. Even if I was eager to share, I doubt you’re eager to listen.” He shook his head a bit. They weren’t here to talk about the last few months, they were here to talk about what had happened after he’d died. It seemed like almost everything important had happened after he died. “You said there were some things I needed to know about Harry. I...know some things. I’ve talked with Sirius, Remus, and Peter, obviously. A few people have mentioned him in passing, as well.” James absently drummed his fingers against the glass of his pint. “It’s like I said that night. The more I here about how Dumbledore interacting with Harry, the angrier I get. So. I’m very interested in getting a clearer picture of what happened. Why things happened the way they did.”

She cried quietly, save for a few louder sobs that escaped her. James being this close to her felt nice, it was a comfort, but nothing besides her baby could completely stop her tears. When he pulled away, she opened her eyes so she could understand him; she needed to know if he felt this anomaly too. His words made her feel awful. He had sacrificed himself so they could get away, and Lily had failed them. She shook her head. “He killed me,” she said, in total disbelief and confusion and still the pain wasn’t stopping. “He said he just wanted Harry, but I couldn’t…” Another sob. “I couldn’t save him. I’m so sorry…” She met his eyes fully now as she said “James, I felt my heart stop. How did this happen? You remember too, right?”

...

James just sighed softly at her answer, touching their foreheads together. “It’s ok. it’s not your fault. I couldn’t save you two either. I don’t think it’s either of our fault.” He pulled her close and just held her, letting his own grief wash over him for a moment. Was that why they were back here? Were they reset because they failed to save Harry? That was just too cruel for him to consider. “I don’t know. I don’t know, my love. Yes, I remember. I remember all of it. I.. was about to turn into Prongs and... well prong the bastard. And then just a flash of green.”

He shook his head a bit. It was all too much to process. Especially while his head was aching from the hangover he’d clearly given himself the night before. “We need to... We need to talk to the others. Find out what they remember, warn them if they don’t...” He ran a hand back through his hair. “Fuck. This is a lot.” 

James sighed to himself, leaning against the wall next to the lift doors. It was his first full day back after his parents had died. Three weeks was all he could justify to himself after he’d ‘just’ taken off for his honeymoon, no matter how long ago that was in his memory. They’d tried to put him on desk work, but he’d insisted it would be better for him to be up and properly helping somehow, so they put him on security duty for the day. He was just supposed to wander and make sure that none of the voters wandered off where they weren’t supposed to be.

He couldn’t help but think back to the last time he’d been in these halls, on Valentine’s Day. It gave him an ominous feeling that he just couldn’t shake. Still, when the lift doors opened, he recognized Felix Bones easily. It was his job to, but also he was immediately able to see the resemblance to Amelia. “Morning, Mr. Bones.” He gave him a not of greeting. “They figure out what’s wrong with the polls yet? I tried getting in before my shift started, but it was just a mess.”

“Harry, I love you. Daddy loves you. You are so loved…”

The flash of green light in the periphery of her vision told her she had little time. She turned around in time to be met with the face of Lord Voldemort himself. He offered her a chance to stand aside, to let him kill the boy and be on his way, but Lily simply begged for Harry’s life, putting herself between the mad man and the baby.

She didn’t need to read his lips to know the killing curse was on its way. She screamed as she felt her heart stop.

She awoke with a start, sitting up in bed and looking around the room. She was in their room, the room she shared with James when they first left Hogwarts. Was it a dream? Her dreams had never been that vivid before, it felt so real, and she couldn’t help but clutch at her chest as her breathing slowed slightly. She looked over and saw him.

James.

They may have had a tiff in her “dream”, but she thought she lost him. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around him, holding him close and closing her eyes, trying to ease her racing thoughts with the smell of him and his embrace. 

When she opened her eyes, she saw the details around the room that were wrong. Champagne flutes? Henna still on her hand? She was suddenly hit with a terrible feeling as she connected the dots.

Harry!

She threw the covers off of her and sprinted out of the room, knowing it was fruitless but she had to look for her son. She knew they had moved out of this flat by the time Harry was born, but she was still searching. Once she had gone into every room twice, the acceptance finally hit her and she leaned against the wall and slid down it, letting the tears fall. She didn’t even know if it was all a dream or not, that little baby felt so real in her arms that she couldn’t imagine life without him.

He’s gone.

...

James just barely pulled back in time to keep from getting slammed as she sat up. Her panicked looking around told him everything he needed to know. He held her when she turned to him. “Shhh. We’re fine. We’re ok.”

He jolted a bit in surprise when she ran from the bed. “Lily?” It only took a few seconds for him to realize what was happening. Absently, he followed her. Maybe he hoped in the back of his mind that she would actually find Harry. But the flat was small, and there was only so much space for her to search. He just watched her, approaching once she stopped and sat down. He sat in front of her, his legs bracketing hers. He just leaned their foreheads together for a long moment, not sure what else to say. What else was there to say?

He kissed her forehead gently and then pulled back far enough to sign as he spoke. “Did you get away? You and Harry? I tried to be loud enough, give you some warning.” He swallowed past a lump in his throat.

James gasped awake. All at once, his vision went from being filled with green light to the red of his wife’s hair. He pushed himself up to examine the room. His head spun and his arm ached from being trapped beneath Lily most of the night. “Godric, where did we get enough booze to get sloshed last night?” He mumbled to himself. He reached over Lily for his glasses on the nightstand, only to accidentally knock over a champagne flute in his fumbling. He saved the glass, but there was instantly a dark spot on the carpet. He frowned. He didn’t remember there being carpet in Godric’s Hollow.

He fit his glasses on his face and looked around. He recognized this room. This was the bedroom of their first flat, with the bed that was a bit too large for the space and the wardrobe a bit too small to fit all their clothes. The champagne flutes on the nightstand were from their wedding china - a set that had long since been put into safe storage before they went into hiding.

who: self-para where: st. mungo’s, potter manor when: march 28th-30th

content warnings: disease, death, mourning notes: dialogue in italics is in Hindi. link to the first time.

James realized by the end that there was no pushing their deaths more than a few hours at most. Their illness was progressing exactly how he remembered, in every gruesome detail. His parents were wasting away in front of his eyes. Unable to keep down food or more than sips of warm tea at a time, slowly turning more and more green. All James could do was brace for impact. 

It had taken them quite a few owls back and forth to actually pick a place for them to meet. James was busy with work and with keeping a close watch on his parents, and they couldn’t really go somewhere public without blowing Snape’s cover. Eventually they settled on Aberforth’s bar - close though to Hogwarts to be convenient for Snape, and Dumbledore’s brother would surely keep Snape’s cover.

James was a bit nervous about what he might hear. The way Snape had spoken about Harry, about how there was something they needed to talk about...it made the pit of his stomach cold. Between that and the rest of the stress in his life, James was already into a second pint by the time Severus arrived. “Evening. Hope the students didn’t give you too much trouble today, Professor.” He couldn’t help the small twitch of a smile at the corners of his lips. He was still struggling to think of Snape as a professor. He was sure that the upper-level students who had been classmates with him just last year were struggling just as much.

mccnylupln​:

Remus knew this day was coming. He hadn’t been around much the first time around; frequently listing off bullshit reasons he couldn’t go to the hospital instead of comforting his friend in a time of need. It was a regret of his — he felt an ugly sort of ache in his stomach whenever he thought of Mr. and Mrs. Potter’s passing. He never knew how to act when people died, but that wasn’t a good excuse for not being there when James needed him. 

So when he got word that James’ parents were sick, he acted immediately. He put on the nicest of his slacks and even grabbed a flower bouquet from the market on his way over.  The hospital still gave him the chills, but he powered through it and made his way to their room. Through the tiny window on the door, Remus could see the Potter family. His heart just about broke. He thought of his own parents, alive for now, and how he still hadn’t visited them. He shook away those thoughts and knocked quietly. When he saw James move a bit, he opened the door and walked inside. 

“Mate, I…” He paused. He hadn’t thought of what to say to James in this moment — how do you offer condolences to someone the second time their parents are dying? “I’m sorry. I bought you these.” He presented the bouquet to him awkwardly, like he’d never held flowers before. Another pause. And then, “How are they?”

***

As soon as Sirius heard that James’ parents were once again sick he selfishly wished he could just hide away and not have to deal with this again. Seeing James going through that the first time around had been difficult. And it was just downright cruel that he had to do it again. Plus, the Potters had been so good to Sirius that he didn’t think it was fair for them to end this way. They deserved longer lives. One where they got to meet Harry and James got his family for longer. But life really wasn’t fair.

And he couldn’t hide away and not be there for his friend. So he had dropped by for coffee before making his way to St Mungo’s and went straight to their room, trying his best to keep his dread at bay. He had never been good at this sorta thing. But he figured that being there for James, even if he felt uncomfortable and didn’t know what to say, was better than nothing.

“Hey, I figured you would need some coffee.” Sirius said as he walked into the room and stopped short when he saw James wasn’t alone. Looking down at the two coffees in his hands he felt a little awkward. He hadn’t even thought to reach out to Remus and see if he was coming to visit. Which felt stupid now that the thought about it. “Sorry, I didn’t think to get you one.” He mumbled and made himself keep his eyes on his two friends instead of letting his gaze turn to the beds. Which was more difficult than he expected but he forced himself to focus on James and looked him over. “How long have you been here for?” 

( @jcmesfpotter​ )

...

James gave Remus a tired smile as he walked in. “Hey.” He chuckled a bit at the flowers, accepting them easily. “Thanks, Moony. Ma’ll love them." He’d need to apparate home and get a vase for them so they’d last, but that was a quick trip. He sighed a bit at the question and rubbed his neck, not sure how to answer. He knew how it would affect Remus, and it was hard to admit it out loud. 

Fortunately, that was when Sirius walked in as well. He snorted a bit at the assumption of coffee. “You figured right. Been living off it.” He accepted the fresh coffee. With a moment of consideration, he drained his old cup and then walked over to the sink to wash it out and put Remus’ bouquet in. “Just until I get a chance to pop home and get a proper vase for them, you know?” He quickly assured Remus. He came back to lean against the wall near the door. 

Sirius’ question wasn’t much easier to answer than Remus’. He had to glance at his watch, at the date there. “Going on three days now. I’m the one that made them go in and get checked this time. They were admitted immediately.” He ran his fingers through his hair, which was lank and starting to get slightly greasy. “They’re...it’s about the same as last time. I think I caught it maybe half a week earlier, but it’s not...it’s not making much of a difference.” He took a drink to keep his throat getting too tight.

James sat in the armchair in his parents room, his head tilted back and his hands wrapped around a paper cup of lukewarm coffee. It had been three days since he’d visited his parents for breakfast (a ritual he’d gotten into since the beginning of the year) and noticed his father coughing. He’d cajoled them until they went to the doctor that afternoon, and they’d been in hospital ever since. They including James, in this case. He hadn’t left their side, had barely taken breaks to grab snacks and coffee from the waiting room whenever they were taking naps.

They both were asleep right now, and James was just barely hanging onto consciousness himself. A knock on the door had him sitting up, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “Come in.”