james potter.

marls-mckins​:

ofemmevance​:

“Okay,” Emme said, not complaining when Marlene traded the spliff for the popcorn. She wanted the popcorn more then that, anyways, and she nodded her head, trusting the two of them. Emmeline smiled her thanks to James when he rubbed her back as she finished coughing. “I trust you,” she told them. They were far more knowledgeable about this stuff then she was. She popped a piece of popcorn into her mouth, as she watched them both. She was just so grateful for both of them, and for Gideon. “Why don’t we hang out more?” She asked, looking at them. She spent the most time with James out of the four of them, but it seemed like they didn’t do this enough, just…be together. 

 It was a relief to hear that James didn’t think that she was a bad person, even though she totally felt like a bad person. Who kissed someone who had a girlfriend? She felt her cheeks flush at Marlene’s words, she always just…went there. Emme could almost admire her for it, she said things that Emmeline would never dream of saying. “He’s not a dweeb!” Emmeline exclaimed, feeling protective of Dirk. Neither of them knew Dirk like she did. “And I think that his girlfriend will care when she finds out,” she pointed out, looking between the two of them. Why didn’t they see that this was a big deal?

Before Emme could answer the why she had kissed him and confess her feelings for Dirk, there was a knock at the door that could only mean that Gideon was there. She watched as Mar jumped up to go and get the door. Emme could hear Marlene’s voice as she started to lie and tell Gideon things that she had definitely not said. Her cheeks turned brighter red then before as Mar and Gideon appeared in the doorway. She wanted nothing more then to disappear and she looked at James, wide eyed, wanting him to fix this. “I never said that!” She managed out as she looked at the three of them. “I would never…do that.” 

Her head had started to spin a bit, and she didn’t know if she was overwhelmed or if it was from the hit, as she looked at them. “Marlene just likes making me uncomfortable,” she agreed with James as she looked at all of them. Why did she think it was a good idea to bring up Dirk, again? “I kissed Dirk before he left to help with the mission. We’ve…been hanging out in the library at night when I can’t sleep, and I dunno…I really like him,” she admitted. “But he’s dating Nicky, so…it was so dumb,” she sighed. She pulled her knees up to her chest. James’ words made her feel good, but she shook her head. “Nicky’s so much cooler then I am!” She pointed out. “And she’s really nice. I can’t believe I kissed Dirk,” she frowned. She really hadn’t been thinking this one through. 

@marls-mckins​​

Marlene took some glee in Gideon’s reaction, watching from her perch on the sofa as she devoured his sister’s cooking. It was Emmeline’s reaction that put a halt to her comments though. She was the only person that Marlene drew a line for and the blush in her cheeks told her she needed to stop before she crossed it. She couldn’t push things too far with Emmeline. She was so wholesome, even after everything that had happened, the idea of genuinely upsetting her tore through Marlene’s heart. She stayed quiet while Gideon sought reassurance that she had indeed been lying, chuckling at James’s input.

Emmeline’s question stopped her chuckles all together. They didn’t hang out because they barely knew each other in the ‘real world’, but she couldn’t say that. Not when Emmeline was already upset. She shrugged, leaning her head back on the sofa so she didn’t have to look at the others.

“It would be weird if we hung out all the time. When people see the four of us together… we only became friends because we were locked in a dungeon together and we went through some horrific shit. It’s hardly the basis for a stable friendship group.” It sounded harsher coming out of her mouth than she intended. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice but, well, sometimes I want to just pretend that it didn’t happen.”

Settling back into the sofa she kept her mouth shut as Emmeline told the Dirk story, holding back every quip she wanted to insert. Emmeline seemed genuinely distressed about the whole thing - something Marlene still didn’t entirely understand. Comforting was not something Marlene did well. She had always been the joker of the group, but it somehow felt less appropriate in this situation than it had in the dungeon. She tried something new - consoling. She dipped her toe into the water with a lukewarm attempt. “Emme, it’s fine! It’s not your responsibility to stop him cheating if he even is cheating. You don’t know, they might have some arrangement. But even if they don’t, all of that guilt should be on his shoulders not yours. You didn’t make a promise to this Nicky girl.”

It felt too sincere out of her mouth, foreign and not quite right. She decided to fill her mouth with more of Molly’s cooking, talking as she ate, crumbs spluttering out of her mouth. “Shouldn’t you be talking to him about this?”

@gidprxwett​

They were overwhelming as a group. The four of them so messed up by their shared experience but it seemed that it had messed them all up in different ways. Gideon found that he cared for each of them deeply but he needed to put space between him and the others. James was a bit more aggressive than Gideon remembered him to be. Marlene a bit more brutal and Emme just seemed a touch too sad all the time. He wondered what he looked like to them. How they had seen him change since their return. No doubt they found him lacking where he once was a stable reliable person to lean on now even the slightest pressure might send his careful facade tumbling away.

“Emme it’s alright. Don’t be upset. Did Dirk tell you he’s dating Nicky? Perhaps he isn’t and you’ve misunderstood their relationship. He could like you just as much as you like him and not have a girlfriend. I think you should just ask him about it.” He offered her a tin of cookies as he gave her a small smile. She was clearly upset by the conversation and he didn’t want her to be sad.

Marlene’s observations regarding their little group left him feeling awkward and unwilling to comment. He knew her words held truth to them. He hadn’t been close with any of them before they had been taken and now they were made into this odd little family purely because they had a shared tragedy. He saw the looks they received on the rare occasion that they were out together. People didn’t know how to react when they saw them and he suspected it would make people a lot more comfortable if the four of them didn’t spend time together.

“You should write him a strongly worded letter if you would prefer to not talk to him about it face to face Emme. Hestia is quite good at writing letters and could probably help you if you wanted. I made her help me write a resignation letter one time and she did a great job with it.” He had turned in that letter to the little shop he had worked at before his current job and he still remembered how frightened he had been to quit.

@perniciouspotter

They were suddenly talking about just why they didn’t hang out that much - Emmeline wanting to, Marlene pointing out their potential toxicity together, and Gideon mysteriously silent on the matter. “I dunno, Mar,” James said. “The good thing about all of us being together is that we know what happened in there. No pitying eyes - no tip-toeing around shit. I think it’s alright.” He grinned at Emmeline because he knew just how important being around the others was to her. How important being around him was. He didn’t want her thinking that she should back off just because Marlene was talking about the obvious on how they all connected.

Gideon, of course, was the sensible one revolving around Dirk and Emmeline’s non-relationship. James snorted when he suggested a letter. “Don’t do that,” he said. “Seriously, just Gryffindor up and talk to him. Who cares if Nicky is his girlfriend? I’m fucking proof that even years of being in a relationship kinda mean nothing in the grand scheme of things. We’re in a war. Might as well do what you want to do. Never know how much time we’re gonna have left.”

He didn’t mean to bring up Lily, but since when did he ever mean to bring her up? He practically thought about her every day and it probably wouldn’t be surprising to the rest of them when he started to talk about her. After all, he talked about her and his friends all the time in the dungeons. “Don’t overthink it,” he advised Emmeline. “Just do it.”

James Potter suffered from what Regulus Black would consider a chronic dissonance from reality. Everyone he lowered himself to care about became someone perfect and untouchable. There was no reality, no touch of what someone truly was when James Potter saw fit to care for them, it was all painted gold, a flawed gilding over the reality of them. Regulus always considered Sirius to have been a recipient of it and it had reached a point where it was no longer something that could be removed from him. The person that Regulus might have considered family was gone, lost under the golden paint James plastered over everything. “I know him better than you think, Potter,” Regulus remarked, knowing he’d never convince the other wix of that fact and decided to leave the subject for now.

Regulus Black was an asshole. James Potter was also an asshole, but Regulus had never been able to resist explaining something before, no matter the situation. He still remembers begging the Sorting Hat as it fell over his eyes to put him in Slytherin when the hat was going to call Ravenclaw. He ended up where he needed to be but that didn’t change what Regulus was. It didn’t change his compulsive need to explain.

“I’ll die,” Regulus confirmed, “but not from the mark. I will die because I am a traitor to a cause and a group of people I swore my life to. The mark just tells me when my death knell rings. It burns when we’re called. What happens when it’s clear I am alive and have been gleefully handing over information that shouldn’t have been given to you will… It will not be pleasant. When the Dark Lord knows what I have done, a lake of inferi will considered a mercy. I won’t run, but I will not make it easy. Not, of course, that you care.”

Regulus couldn’t stop the smirk that took over his face as he watched James process that he knew Bellatrix, that Regulus had once even loved her, considered her a sister. On his worst days, he knew he still did and would never be able to raise a wand against her. “Yes,” Regulus acknowledged, “I assumed you would. Everyone knows Bellatrix these days.”

He laughed, a short and harsh bark that sounded more like a seal. “No, I won’t torture you. I’m known for being quite bad at it. You’re safe, Potter. For now and only from me, but that is all I can promise.” Narrowing his own eyes, Regulus fixed James with a look. “I’m here because you all are worse than useless and I thought Sirius was… Well. It doesn’t matter. I am here because you and yours are useless.”

James didn’t actually expect Regulus to stop what he was doing and explain what the Mark would be like. But, here they were, talking about Dark Magic as though it were simple theory in class. Despite what James assumed Regulus thought about him, he was smart. He made good marks in his classes without really trying - made the Marauders Map and became an Animagus far younger than most people would even be able to attempt. He wondered if Regulus knew any of that - or, if he didn’t, what he might said if he learned.

Regulus explained that a summon would mean Voldemort knew of his existence - that death would be coming, even if not from the Mark itself. It ended with a rather blasé comment about James not caring about his death and, in a way, that was both true and untrue. He, personally, wouldn’t care - but he knew that there was a piece of Sirius that, despite everything, still would. And James would care about that. About his friend, his brother. “Hm,” he mused. “Might as well go jump in the lake yourself if that happens then.” A brush off himself. Easier for the two of them to pretend.

Regulus was unsurprised by James’ knowledge about Bellatrix and assured James he was safe. Not what he’d been asking, but whatever. He wasn’t all that worried about Regulus trying to take him down, here and now. That would be a pretty fucking stupid move on the other wix’s part and one thing that James knew was that Regulus wasn’t stupid. That was what made the Black family so frightening. Even Sirius, James knew, could be scary to a lot of people. Just never to him.

“Yes, I’m sure everyone would be very jealous of my James Potter skin suit.” She grumbled, always wanting the last word. It helped too, the sarcasm, to keep him at a metaphorical distance when they were physically so close. She didn’t have to admit that it felt slightly weird and awkward to be cuddling him, or that it was so much easier to drift off with someone beside her.

“G’night.” She murmured, before closing her eyes. It didn’t take long before her breathing had reached a tell tale slow as she fell asleep.

Her dreams were haunted by worries that she’d be discovered and found to be a spy in the ranks of The Order. She was running, always running, trying to escape discovery, hiding in the woods where her friends were hunting her down. Her dreams twisted and shifted, occupied with the same familiar themes that had plagued her nights since she’d given in to the Death Eater’s demands. These dreams were always hazy though. They didn’t make sense, they were strange and, well, dream-like. 

It was when they shifted into the stark reality of the long room that the real terror set in. 

Marlene couldn’t remember being there before, although she had many times, and somehow she had absorbed some of the knowledge of her previous visits - she couldn’t escape, there was no point even trying, and something awful was about to happen. 

“Marlene.” The voice of her older brother croaked out behind her. She turned, just in time to see the terror in his eyes before the masked figures started their work. They held him down, stretching out his arm, wands at the ready.

The process was a long and slow one. If they had wanted to torture their subject a cruciatus curse would have worked, but this wasn’t about causing her brother pain. It was about making Marlene watch the most horrific thing imaginable happen to those she loved. Watching Andrew writhe in pain from some invisible curse was one thing, but the horror of watching them dismember her loved ones limb by limb broke Marlene.

In the long room it would continue. No matter what they did to him, he somehow never died. He didn’t even look human anymore. He was just blood and flesh and bone - but then how could he still be screaming? She would beg for her brother’s life, and eventually his death. And then, when they finally showed mercy and his screaming stopped, they’d drag her mother out of the darkness and start the process again. 

The entire time she was trapped, unable to move, unable to scream, her mouth moving but no sound coming out.

Thankfully, Marlene’s fear and beating heart always woke her from the dream before the worst part - before they started stripping his skin from his body and made him truly unrecognisable.

“Andrew! Please. No!” She could finally vocalise the screams that had been silenced in her dream. Disoriented, she tried to run for her brother and reach out for him. With an unceremonious thump she landed on the floor, a thrashing mess of limbs and blanket. 

“Drew?” His name came out in a questioning sob and she peered through the darkness to see why his screaming had stopped. 

She always awoke crying and confused. It felt so real. It was part of the torture, she was sure of it, the way it followed her around. Even now they were out of the dungeons, those images they’d implanted in her mind came in dreams and flashbacks. They were a reminder of what would happen if she stopped working for the Death Eaters, keeping her obedient and in line. She pulled her hands to her face, loud, gut-wrenching sobs reverberating through her.

Although she was awake, for a few moments she remained back in the long room. There was a realisation as memories came back to her, of what would have happened to her brother had her dream continued. It was such a one track, awful path of thoughts that she didn’t notice anything or anyone around her. It took a while to adjust to her surroundings and realise where she was - sitting in the foetal position on James’s floor, blanket strewn next to her.

When she eventually noticed she wasn’t alone, her hands covered the rest of her face, as if she could hide her tears now, and her head dropped to her knees. “Shit.”

It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. A mantra she repeated in her mind when she needed to pull herself together. 

“I - I’m sorry.”

James had seen it before. Even in the dungeons, Marlene had dreams of what happened in the long room. If felt different somehow now that they were out, and in his home, like what had happened down there shouldn’t have followed her out in this way. It felt shameful to let anyone know how much these visions haunted her. They weren’t even real. 

In the dungeons Marlene had kept very tight lipped about what she was subject to in the long room. She’d always thought saying it out loud would only make it worse. The most the other three had ever got from her was the names she cried as she woke from fitful bursts of sleep - Andrew, her two younger brothers, Daisy, her parents. She had never even wanted to acknowledge that the dreams had happened, shutting down any questions about them.

This time she gave James something more, the start of an explanation that she couldn’t finish.

“My brother-”

She tried, but the lump in her throat stopped her from continuing. It was the least she owed him after rudely waking him with a scream, and the cold of having the blanket suddenly ripped from his body.

She fell asleep next to him - or, at least, she must’ve, but James couldn’t be sure because his dreams came quickly as he dozed off. Within what felt like minutes, but was probably more like hours, however, he was jostled awake. Marlene was talking in her sleep. Frantic murmurs James couldn’t make out as he sat up to look down at her, a hand on her shoulder to try and wake her. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he said quickly. He recognized it. How many times had one of them had a nightmare like this in the dungeons?

It wasn’t until Andrew! that he grew alarmed. Because that was clearly heard, a scream rather than incoherent nonsense. Her brother’s name, her brother in the nightmare. He shook her more fiercely, but it was like her body was rejecting any comfort because Marlene was suddenly rolling, landing on the floor with a thud and taking the blankets with her.

The thud must have woken her because she suddenly sat up, looking at him with tears in her eyes before she covered her face with her hands and apologized. He let her cry, let her have the moment, but looked down at her with concern as she pulled herself together slowly. My brother. The only explanation she could give, but James understood. He nodded gently to tell her she didn’t have to go any farther, he got it.

He shifted his body so he could slide down onto the floor with her between the couch and coffee table. It was a tight squeeze, but they both could fit, and he inched his way next to her, reaching out to touch her shoulder softly. The place he felt was the least intimate. He didn’t know how Marlene would take physical comfort like that.

With Emmeline, it came naturally to him. They were next to one another in the cells, he could touch her through the bars without any problems at all. And then, when they got out, she was immediately in his arms the first time they saw one another. It had never been like that with Marlene. In the dungeons, she was on the opposite side - the farthest away of him, in separate corners. After, they were just not that kind of friend to one another.

“Seeing as you have yet to show up at my place of work with an injury gained from being an ignoramus,” Evan paused to look James over. “Yes, since this is more preferable.” Not seeing him at all would have been the most preferred option but Evan was taking the liberty of trying to be civil. Trying and actively being civil, however, would prove to be two different things since Evan was in a decent enough mood to remain mostly unbothered by Potter’s statement.

The use of the word abandoned nearly earned a chuckle from Evan. Primarily since he had done anything but. He had taken a step back to cool down instead of letting his temper hit the point of saying something he would have regretted. There was no denying the plan of two weeks off had turned into almost a month but the additional time was warranted in his eyes.

Healing while distracted from being incredibly annoyed at the lack of communication from the Order after explicitly stating he expected better of them would have been asking for disaster. Add in his having given permission to a select few to get in touch with him and restocking the ingredients he had ordered instead of leaving them to go bad at his flat, and he could hardly call it abandoning. He couldn’t call it taking a holiday either since that would have involved traveling instead of voluntarily getting disowned.

“Abandoned is a strong word,” Evan mused and shook his head. “Those that could be trusted with not ruining the first bit of personal time I put to use were told to contact me if things warranted needing to reappear earlier than planned.” Alastor, Emmeline, and Theodosia were deemed levelheaded enough to make that call before things turned into the Order scrambling while dealing with a life or death situation. He hadn’t made a point to let that information be broadcasted since the pettier side of him was perfectly fine with people believing his patience had reached its breaking point. “Can’t expect someone to remain loyal when it’s been made clear the sentiment isn’t mutual time and time again.”

Evan feigned casualness. Or maybe he really was that casual and it was just James who was on edge at seeing the other. Rosier acted as though he was expecting James to show up at St. Mungo’s with injuries or something, which made James smile sarcastically. “No, I think I’d rather die than let you heal me,” he said with a false brightness, as though they were just talking about Quidditch scores. “Besides, now with you gone, Emme isn’t really keeping up that ban you’d suggested before, so I think I’d just go to her at HQ if I got injured. Since, you know, she’s our healer and all now.”

Not only was James pissed off about Rosier leaving the Order because of some unwarranted tantrum, but he’d also left Emmeline. James didn’t care if they were keeping in contact or anything (he wasn’t sure they were, but Emmeline wasn’t nearly as annoyed with Evan as James was, so he could make a guess Rosier hadn’t left her high and dry) because Emmeline still wasn’t a trained healer and now all this pressure was left on her shoulders. James worried about what it might do to her. She’d been doing so well lately that he would quite literally go after Evan if this caused any sort of backslide for her.

Rosier, apparently, didn’t see it same way as him, though. Because the other gave an amused look and said that he thought James’ word choice was strong. He gave excuses to James, like it was okay, and it only made James roll his eyes. “Loyalty doesn’t mean you get what you want,” James pointed out. “It means you stay even when you don’t.” He licked his lips, shot Evan a look. “But I wouldn’t expect you to know the first thing about it.”

 Well, that certainly cleared things up and made Elliot feel like an absolute imbecile. He groaned aloud before he could stop himself and scrubbed his hands over his face, as though embarrassment were a physical thing he could push away manually. Of course he couldn’t, and just had to stand there marinating in mortification instead.

“Right…right,” he said, following that up with another very creative, “Right. Got it. That…that all makes a lot more sense then, yes. Right. Sorry. I, er…I didn’t mean to…” Didn’t mean to what? Behave like an idiot? Literally misunderstand every bloody word that had come out of James Potter’s mouth? Make an absolute tit of himself in front of the coolest wizard he’d ever known? Yeah, of course he hadn’t meant to do that. But here they were. At least there wasn’t a snidget’s chance in hell that he was ever going to forget what the nick meant, after just about swallowing his foot over that colloquialism. On the (tenuous) upside, Nicky would probably think it was hilarious. On the downside, it would be at least five years before Elliot would be able to tell her the story without combusting on the spot.

And James, of course, didn’t want to be here, because why would he after all that? Although he probably actually was exhausted, and not just inventing excuses to escape the pit of mortifying idiocy into which Elliot had just lunged like a niffler scenting gold. “Right,” Elliot said for what had damn well better be the last time today or he was going to tongue-tie his own tongue just to shut himself up, “sorry.” He stepped back towards the wall, clearing the hallway for James to pass freely without any more pestering. “I’ll just, er, get out of your way, then. Ah, let me know if you need any help later, I suppose.”

Right, Elliot though disdainfully, because after that he was definitely going to seek out Elliot’s help the next time he needed something. For fuck’s sake…

Elliot immediately started stumbling over his words, apologizing to James for not knowing the lingo - or maybe just being embarrassed at James’ teasing. It was mild, really, compared to some of the things James made fun of people growing up. “Mate,” he said, interrupting Elliot. “You’re cool.” Cool being relative, of course. Because Elliot really wasn’t, in James’ mind, but he also didn’t really have anything to apologize for, either.

With that, the air shifted, and it was clear the younger wix wanted to get the hell out of here as quickly as possible. Alls well in that, James thought. The quicker he could get to this debrief, the better. He was shit tired and wanted to go to sleep, but he had to do this first to get to that and Elliot had sort of gotten in the way of it all.

“Got it,” James said, though they both probably knew he would never take Elliot up on his offer to help. So many other people in line James Potter would go to before he ever resorted to Elliot Vanity. “Have a good one, mate,” he said as he moved away. He reached up to give a little salute towards the other wix as he went, a silent goodbye that might’ve been the last, sarcastic slight towards him.

James flinched at the contact but he hasn’t pulled away, stiffened but stayed where he was, and that was the only progress Alastor needed to see. It was small, absolutely a little bit tired, a little bit broken, but it was enough for now.

Merlin, it was good to hear him laugh, though, really laugh. The sound of it made the knot between Alastor’s shoulders loosen, let them fall away from the tight line they’d stood in for months. Yes, seeing the other members had done wonders for his stress levels, too, but James had been the one…James had been the one he’d needed to bring home, to get home. If he hadn’t, well, Moody didn’t know how he would have been.

“I’m sure he does,” he agrees, mischief lighting up his eyes before he shakes his head, a somberness flickering over his face again for just a moment. He hadn’t wanted to ask this, hadn’t want to make James feel – “Do you want me to go with you? James, you’re a big boy, I know that but – if you need – if you want – I will.”

Tripping over his own tongue had never been Moody’s strong suit and he clears his throat after, bemused at his own nervousness. A small sigh escapes before he can contain it, and Moody laughs too, an echoing, aching hollow right there in the middle of his chest. James couldn’t see it but, sometimes, he wished that he could, that he and the rest knew…

“It will,” he says, short and confident and to the point. “But…if it doesn’t, I’ll fix it. We’ll figure it out, yeah? ’Ve trained plenty of people who can’t use a wand hand, or an eye, a leg. Jamie, it’ll…you’ll–” another sigh this time pinched off by a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “’M stubborn. You’re stubborn. We’ll figure it out.”

That was a promise, and it was one he intended to keep.

James smirked at Moody playing into his joke, but then his grin immediately fell at the offer to go with him. He pulled a face, looking at Moody with his brows raised, a slight wrinkle of his nose. “Fuck no,” he said with a snort. Actually, the idea felt tempting. He’d thought about asking Sirius to be over at his house when Snape came, but he hadn’t wanted it to turn into a bigger pissing match than it probably already would be. And, if James knew Severus (and he thought he did), if Sirius was there, the other wix might’ve walked out and refused to do it altogether. 

Alastor, however. He doubted Snape would feel the same. But there was no way in hell he’d give any inclination to his former enemy that James needed a babysitter. “Thanks, but no thanks. You really think I’m pathetic enough to pull up with daddy for protection?” James shot Alastor a wiry grin. “Come on, mate, you know me better than that.”

The conviction in his mentor’s voice about his wand hand was nice, though. They would figure it out together, if it didn’t work. He could learn to work with his left hand better than he’d been doing lately (though he was managing enough). But still... that idea felt fucking scary. Living with this pain the rest of his life. Not being the same dueler, the same anything. 

There was a dishonesty in Sirius’ avoidance, and Sirius felt a pang of guilt in his stomach that he tried to wash away with another swig of Firewhiskey. He recognized the suspicion written over James’ face - he knew James better than himself most days - but James didn’t press further. If James pressed, he wouldn’t want to lie to his best mate, but he certainly didn’t want to touch the truth - not yet.

The conversation was continuing, however, and relief washed over Sirius. “It was some of the good shit from Fletch, freshly rolled as of yesterday morning,” he told James, “But, hate to say it, I smoked most of it without you when I got home. Still got a bit left, though, if you want some for later. I can leave it with you.”

But James was continuing, and Sirius wasn’t at all prepared for the bombshell he dropped. He blinked, twice, before his brows tugged together and he sat up straighter, leaned forward. “You fucked Jones?” he echoed, disbelief and something like amusement flashing over his features. “No fuckin’ way, I don’t believe you.” There was a hint of teasing to his tone, and Sirius’ eyes widened, a grin stretching over his face. “Holy shit, Prongs, you fucked Hestia Jones. Well, how was it? Details, mate! I’m gonna need more than just, ‘I might’ve fucked Hestia Jones on Sunday.’”

Sirius knew that it was the first time James had been with anyone since returning from the grave and, more importantly, since Lily broke up with him. It was kind of a big deal, but Sirius wouldn’t have thought the person he’d be with first would be Hestia Jones.

James snorted at Sirius confession of using the present he’d gotten him. He shrugged. “Yeah, that’s cool,” he said about saving what was left for later. James didn’t really need it - he had the money to buy much more from Fletch than Sirius did, but he wasn’t about to say that. He knew this was Sirius’ way of showing up for him.

The dungbomb James dropped on his best mate, however, did not disappoint. Sirius was sitting up with fervor, looking almost wildly at him, and James smirked, letting out a soft laugh. He could feel his neck flush just a bit. His grin only grew when Sirius claimed not to believe him, shrugging lightly in response, and crossing his arms as he sat back.

“I dunno!” James said back, his tone louder to match Sirius’, their energy playing off one another. “It was... good. Like, better than you’d think, with her. She’s so fucking uptight all the time that it was kinda... hot to see her loosen up like that. I mean, I’m not gonna lie, I probably wasn’t up to my standards - it’s been eight months! - but, based on the noises she made, I’m pretty sure she liked it, too.”

He reached out to elbow Sirius in the ribs, laughing. “Don’t give me that look, it probably won’t turn into anything. Just a way to... blow off some steam.” Besides, he’d needed it. Needed to have sex with someone other than Lily. It had been so many years since that had happened and, when it had, James was sixteen and stupid and had no idea what he was doing. Everything he’d learned in bed, he’d learned with Lily. It felt both nice and a bit heartbreaking to have it be with someone else.

Peter didn’t really realize just how fierce his words sounded. He was frustrated with it, truthfully. Here he was, trying so hard to be better, to do better, to be enough, and the fact that people like Sirius, people who were supposed to be one of his best friends, still thought he was nothing, was one of the most annoying things in the world. He just wanted, needed, his friends to see how well he was doing, and be proud of him for once. He stood there, watching James and feeling almost like his heart was suddenly going to pound out of his chest, as he waited to see how he responded. Would that make or break everything?

“Yeah?” Peter raised an eyebrow slightly at that, because how could one really not care, if one of their best mates didn’t think they were allowed to think they were the shit too? Maybe Peter had relied far too much for far too long on knowing what his friends thought of him, that the idea of just thinking it without them thinking the same was rather terrifying. He chuckled and grinned though, as James patted his face and ruffled his hair, having honestly missed this. “Well… Thank you for sharing the secret with me,” He stated after a moment, then added as he thought about it, “And I… I’m sorry, if I’ve been a shit friend. I am here for you, Prongs. No matter what. You know that, yeah?”

Then the conversation was to the patronus, and Peter still couldn’t believe that he’d actually just done it. The grin that appeared on his face was probably almost as bright as the rat itself, especially when he saw how James reacted to him managing it. He laughed and jumped with him, leaning into his friends arm, and laughing more as James shook him like that. He’d done it. He’d managed to cast a Patronus, and James was proud of him for it, wasn’t he? He knew he could do it, and Peter had to take those words to heart. He could do this. He knew it too.

“I did it!” He grinned then, “Yeah, you’re right. You’re amazing, Prongs.” He nodded quickly as James ordered him to do it again, knowing he could. That feeling, the feeling he’d focused on, he could focus on it again, and the feeling of how the magic had felt so much easier than any time he’d tried before. And, now he knew that in the future if this happened again, if somehow Dementors were involved again, he could help, instead of being a liability, and that was the most important to him. He took a deep breath, focusing once more on the safety he’d felt in that memory, before beaming and bouncing as the rat appeared again.

Peter seemed to actually believe his advice and thank Merlin because James didn’t think he could handle much more of this. And then his friend apologized. This time, it felt sincere. James looked at him for a long time with his brows pinched and, when Peter said he’d always be there, he finally looked away, adjusted his glasses just to give his hands something to do. “Yeah,” he said before adding, “Sure.”

He didn’t know why this was making him feel uncomfortable. He was normally so good with affection. The kind of bloke who would sing love songs at the top of his lungs at a pub to Lily just to embarrass her, make her blush before kissing him hard. Even with his mates, he liked to touch, to get close. But maybe it was just the fact that, even after everything, it felt almost hard to believe that Peter would always be there. Like that word - always - stuck into his brain, turned him around.

A few months ago, it wouldn’t have been. But now... Peter had hurt him. It felt like a betrayal, even with the forgiveness. James just wanted to move on - preferably, to a place where all his friends were just that... friends. But that seemed almost impossible these days.

So moving onto the spell would just have to do. Peter did the patronus again and James grinned. He patted Peter on the back as he slowly stepped away. “Nice job, Wormtail,” he said, his voice softer now. “Just keep practicing, yeah? It’s harder on the field.” He took another step, clearly about to leave, making his way towards the door. “You take it easy, kay?” He stuffed his hands in his pockets. He didn’t know why he suddenly felt so sad after this conversation, after helping out one of his best friends, making up in their own way. “I’ll see you around.”

Maybe that was why. Because he didn’t know when he would see Peter outside of Order business. Things were just so... tense within the Marauders and James didn’t know the full story of why. No one would tell him. He was at the door now, backing away, he took a hand out of his pocket and tapped the threshold with his palm. He pointed at Peter, tried for a smile. “You practice, got it?” he said again before turning around and heading out the door. 

Marlene used to find James’s laugh really quite annoying. It would boom across the Great Hall, drawing her eye, only to see him with his stupid friends. He always seemed to have people around him, people who liked him. There had always been a creeping jealously. Marlene rubbed people the wrong way. Her only friend through most of her school years being Daisy - she was the only person kind enough to put up with Marlene. She’d been an angry teenager, angry that she didn’t stand out from her family, angry that people didn’t get her, angry because that was just what being a teenager was. From where she sat, spying on him from across the Great Hall, James got on with people naturally. It was like he didn’t even have to try. His laugh was so loud and full of joy that she always used to wonder how on earth anyone he was talking to could be that funny. When it turned out that she was that funny, Marlene decided his laugh wasn’t so bad after all.

“Yeah, I know.” She accepted his insult rueful smile.

His squirming away from the topic of periods was exactly the reaction she’d wanted - she’d found a topic where he would back down when she didn’t. It was a strange game for her, but his unwillingness to discuss it further felt like a win. That was why it didn’t feel like as much of a defeat when she failed to suppress a yawn.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m done.” If she smoked anymore of that stuff she’d start to get dizzy. “What, you don’t trust me to watch you sleep in a non-creepy way? What do you think I’m going to do - turn your skin into a dress?” 

His offer was enticing. Marlene longed for human contact, even as she rejected it at every chance she got. Guilt ate her alive, a feeling that the friends who had known her before would hate what she had become if only they knew. Feeling vulnerable with another person was harder now than it had been before. A mixture of her intoxication and the fact it was James, who had always been their protector when the four of them were captured, meant she gave in to herself.

“Well, if Sirius says so it must be true.” It sounded like another rejection - sarcasm, accompanied by the rolling of her eyes - but she lay down next to him, unfolding a blanket from the side over them. It was a tight squeeze, but at least she felt safe. She took a moment to get comfortable before finally settling into place. “Is your arm ok?”

.

He put out the spliff on his coffee table, not worrying about burns on the wood because he could just take them out later with his wand if he felt the need. Which, lately, he really didn’t. Maybe before Emmeline got here - he’d have to live like an actual person around her, make sure she wasn’t afraid of the walking contradiction he’d become since their escape.

James snorted at her next joke as he leaned back again, crossing his arms. “Quite the pretty dress that would be,” he quipped, turning his head to wink at her. “I’m pretty sure there’s no non-creepy way to watch someone while they sleep, though. So, yeah, I don’t trust you with it.” He could see something change in her expression at the offer, though. Before the dungeons, James hardly knew Marlene. Now, he felt like he knew her too intimately. It was a weird dynamic - he didn’t know her favorite color, but he knew the face she made when she desperately wanted something she felt she couldn’t have.

She was going to say yes. He could sense it. And, when she finally did, making it sound like she was just doing it for him, he smirked, biting the inside of his lip to hide it. Because Marlene needed this and he was happy to give it to her. He would do pretty much anything for the other three he’d gone through hell and back with.

They laid down together with James squashed between the back of the couch and Marlene’s body. He draped his arm around her waist to get comfortable as she pulled a blanket over them. Her next question was gentle, a rare moment of vulnerability from her, usually so full of sarcasm. He eyed her softly. “Yeah,” he said. “Never better.”

Evan & @perniciouspotter​ July 21, 1984 - Diagon Alley

A few “sick” days spent home with Theo left Evan feeling significantly better after the events of the weekend before. In truth, it was precisely what he needed to recharge and begin to feel a bit more like himself instead of feeling as though he was merely going through the motions to keep afloat during a trying time.

He intended to keep a low profile for the sake of not having a full idea toward how his father would react. Low profile yet stubborn enough to make a few public appearances to test the waters. That stubbornness was precisely what brought him to Diagon Alley. Well, stubbornness and acknowledging a food run needed to be done instead of being something he or Theo put off.

Evan paused at one of the benches by the Leaky Cauldron, cautiously setting his purchases down beside him so he could take a moment to rest. A few deep breaths proved necessary to get control of his rushing thoughts. Anxiety wasn’t a new thing for Evan but it seemed to be rearing its head more often than he could appreciate. He had been about to gather his belongings and head out when he spotted James Potter, not bothering to try to silence the low groan that escaped when they made eye contact. So much for a low profile.

“Can’t seem to avoid you lot,” He muttered under his breath then shook his head, speaking a little louder when he continued. “I suppose it’s good to see you.”

.

James had gone into Diagon Alley to make a quick stop to grab him and Emmeline some stuff for home. He could’ve ordered by owl or just Apparated in and out of the place, but without Order business to do, there wasn’t much else for him to do. He didn’t have a job like most people in the Order - and his friends were fractured, meaning he was really only spending time with each of them one-on-one. It gave him more time than he would’ve been used to before his capture. Time he’d decided to fill by taking the long way home, walking through Muggle London before finding another spot to Apparate to Godric’s Hollow.

Unfortunately, that meant running into Evan Rosier. Not that James couldn’t decide to literally just walk the other way - he honestly could care less what the bloke thought about him, since Rosier had already written him off anyway. He’d considered doing just yet, despite their eyes meeting, when Evan spoke.

It wasn’t kind, even with the false pretenses at the end that it might’ve been so. A pureblooded wizard, those fake manners etched into him as though he couldn’t escape. James didn’t have that same problem. He laughed. “Is it?” he said with a sarcasm grin. “Come on, Rosier, I wouldn’t have pegged you for a liar. Is it really good to see me?”

Alastor fucking hated to cry. It wasn’t because of his emotions, no. Nothing as stupid as that, but it gave him a headache and his nose stuffed up and it was actually the worst thing imaginable. When he cried, it was usually alone, too. No one else around to witness it. He was private with some things, particularly these kinds of things.

As a leader, he had to be. As a leader, he was the strong one, bearing the brunt of the pain and the anger and the sadness so other people didn’t have to.

But who helped him bear it? From James’s reaction, the younger wizard hadn’t really thought about it, because Alastor didn’t have anyone to do it, to help.

The use of his name isn’t enough to stop the tears rolling down his cheeks, but it is enough to earn a wet laugh, a heel pressing into his eyes as he heaves in a breath. This wasn’t like him. He never did this, and yet he was, and it has. James could tell him it wasn’t his fault all he’d like, that he hadn’t done it, but Alastor still blamed himself, always would, at least in some way.

James, if he was being honest, had been the hardest one to reconcile with. The fact his bothersome little arse was gone. It had sat uneasily with him for months, even after he was back. Sometimes it still did. Sometimes, when he dreamt, people who had died became James, became Emmeline, became Marlene and Gideon. The other three vacilated between them, but James was almost always a constant, someone he watched be brutally butchered, mauled, or killed from his many, many memories of death and pain and torment.

“Ain’t as easy as all that, lad,” he says, voice rough and thick, but there is a small grin on his face and the tears have dried now. “People…don’t need to worry about me. But ’S not so bad, anymore. Not really. ’M always gonna think about it. Ain’t never going to not, but…’S better. Easier. An’ yer not gonna kill ‘im by yerself, so. I hope ye want someone there with yah.”

If it was to be Alastor, well, that could be arranged. They just needed not to die first.

Alastor clears his throat, leans forward, before heaving himself to his feet. He walks through foot or so between their chairs and stops, considers James’s face before laying a hand on his shoulder and squeezing. “We’re all needed, James. You an’ I aren’t going anywhere. Not if I have a say in it. No one person in this Order has more importance than the other –” save for maybe himself or Hestia, but if one of them perished, the other would pick up in their stead, as they’d want. “ – though I know you feel that way. And I’m sorry for it. A lot changed after you were taken, and people are just getting back to rights. It may never…be the same, but we’re still alive. And that’s all we can do, yeah?”

Alastor laughed and James didn’t know if it was because of something he had said - he hadn’t actually been joking for once, not exactly common for James Potter - or just out of embarrassment. It seemed like the older man wanted to stop crying, but couldn’t, and James could understand that feeling. It was rare that he cried himself but, whenever he did, it was typically because he couldn’t force himself not to.

Eventually, he seemed to calm, if only slightly. James would be lying if he said it didn’t make him feel better. Because, the truth was that he didn’t like seeing his mentor this way. It changed something in him, broke down maybe the last barrier they had left between them. Moody said it wasn’t as easy as words could fix, that he was always thinking about it. And, that, James could also understand.

How many nights had he laid awake, thinking about what he and the others had gone through? Their scream echoing in his ears, his heart racing because he didn’t have eyes on Emmeline. But he didn’t say any of this, just quirked his lips and nodded. “Alright, deal,” he told Moody. “We kill him together.”

Of course, they didn’t exactly have control over that. Whether they killed Voldemort or not would be because of the whole Order - fuck, the whole damn world - and they would need a decent bit of luck to just even put themselves in the right place at the right time. But, for now, this image was a good one. One he could focus on.

There was still a lecture in this whole thing, though. No one person was better than the other (fuck that, James thought but didn’t say, because he knew there were people who were better) and things had changed. If he hadn’t heard that before. Moody finished with something hopeful - they were alive and that meant something, right?

“Yeah, I guess,” James said like a teenager agreeing with a professor in school. He didn’t know if he believed it - not the alive part, clearly they were fucking alive, but the bit about the way he felt being wrong. No matter what Moody said, it didn’t change the fact that Severus had gotten back into Lily’s life, all while she’d kicked him out of it. Severus had gotten to stay in the infirmary. Severus had been by her side.

That shit fucking hurt, even if he’d been reminded the night before that Lily still loved him. Maybe that was why it hurt so badly. Because he loved her back, but couldn't in the way he wanted to. He was over talking about it all now, though. It was all too much after everything. After seeing Alastor Fucking Moody cry.

Alice nodded her agreement to James’s supposition; whether the Death Eaters had an elf here or whether were forcing one of their own (given the sort of people they were, no doubt someone lower-level or of inferior social standing) to do elf-work, either fact indicated that they spent enough time here that they needed someone to do said work, which meant the place was worth the effort. Which meant, of course, that this mission was every bit as dangerous as they had thought it might be…and every bit as necessary, too. They were in the right place. Death might be waiting around the corner for one or both of them.

James Potter had never let dire necessity quench his sense of humor, however—one of the things Alice liked most about working with him—and she tossed a rude two-fingered salute over her shoulder at his impertinent Alohamora question even as she grinned at him behind the gesture. “Twat,” she mouthed, and moved to follow him through the window.

It wasn’t the first time Alice had entered a suspect building in such a fashion, although being with the Ministry meant that she was more familiar with bursting through the front or back door or out of the Floo with her wand out and a shout of surrender or else on her lips—but sometimes even Aurors got better results through stealth than force. So she wasn’t unused to such entrances. That didn’t make them her favorite; she always felt undignified in a way that she couldn’t quite explain, given that she so rarely found lack-of-dignity to be something she minded.

Whatever; they were inside, that was what mattered. She’d known James would cover for her entrance, too, so the tensest part of their ingress had been the few seconds of worry during his climb inside, when he’d been on his own entering potential unknown danger. That was always the hardest moment for Alice: trusting her partners to risk their lives when she wasn’t in a position to guard them. But James moved fast, and he knew what he was doing, and she could trust him not to get himself killed without her. That still didn’t mean she liked it. Alice had become an Auror to protect other people, not to stand back and watch while they risked their lives without her.

The momentary fretting faded as soon as her feet touched the threadbare carpet inside, replaced by the thrum of live-and-death excitement that always filled her on missions like this. She met James’s question with a deep sniff of her own and a corresponding grimace, although the stink was a good sign and she was soon smiling again—this time a thin, sharp, predatory grin. “Guess we follow our noses, then,” she whispered back. “Come on.”

Alice stepped forward to take point this time, gliding down the hallway on soft, stealthy steps. She didn’t waste the time checking the closed doors they passed; just leaned close and listened, holding her own breath so that she wouldn’t overshadow any sounds within. There were none, so instead of fussing with locks or spells or traps she sealed each one with a Colloportus—a spell that any Death Eater worth their mask could break their way out through, of course, but their doing so would be noisy enough to alert her and James that they had an enemy approaching from behind. They would check each room later if they had time, of course, but they didn’t know how much time they did have so it was more important to start with the obvious point of interest.

Follow their noses indeed, Alice thought wryly as she paused before the door at the end of the hall, her free hand rising to cover her nose instinctively at the musky, damp stink that oozed out from the other side of the paint-peeling wood. She glanced back to make sure that James was ready, then tapped the doorknob carefully with her wand. She detected no sign of spellwork. “No seals, no traps,” she whispered to James. She wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or a bad one. Rather than dithering over trying to decide, she twisted the knob and pushed the door open. Steps descending into the darkness of a cellar were revealed on the other side, along with a tripling of the stink and a soft bubbling of some unknown liquid.

Alice raised an eyebrow at James. This was definitely a good—or at least productive—sign. “Homenum revelio,” she whispered. The lack of reaction didn’t prove that there was no one down there—there were certain wards that could deter that spell, especially the low-strength and limited range version that Alice was using in hopes of not tripping any traps that would be triggered by said spell—but it decreased the likelihood that they were going to be walking down into a group of Death Eaters hiding behind the stairs to ambush them.

The fact that there were no lights down there whatsoever, at least none strong enough that Alice could see them from the top of the stairs (the bubbling noise implied that there was probably some kind of simmering fire, but it might have been around a corner or behind a cabinet or under a lid; wherever it was, it didn’t show), added to the likelihood of the cellar being empty. She and James hadn’t triggered any alarm-spells yet, so for someone to be lurking in the dark on the off-chance of intruders…well, some of the Death Eaters were pretty sick in the head, yes. (You had to be, to follow a man who’s stated goal for the cause was terror, murder, and oppression, Alice thought.) But that would be a weird thing to do even for their most sadistic members.

“Gonna give us some light so we don’t break our necks on the stairs,” Alice murmured to James, and suited words to action by doing just that. A thin, very faint glow emerged from her wand in response to her muttered “Lumos,” just enough light to illuminate the three or four stairs in front of her as she started a slow creep down them. Alice’s eyes roamed across the darkness, alert to any trace of spells or wards or warnings. She wasn’t watching for simple everyday risks like woodrot and damp, however, so when the aging wood slat beneath her foot snapped under her weight and pitched her forward, she was caught so off-guard that she didn’t even have time to utter a full “Fuck!“ before she was falling.

James’ words caused a sly smile to move over Alice’s face and he grinned back. “Good call,” he whispered. He didn’t work with Alice a tone on missions - usually he was with Sirius, his partner in crime who knew James’ movements without even needing to be told - but he’d worked with her enough that they were generally on the same page when it came to things. She was a good Auror - smart. He let her lead, following her and her nose towards the smell.

He let her listen at each door on one side of the hall, casting the spell that would lock anyone in, and did the same on the other side. There were several doors on the longish corridor, but it was no Hogwarts by any means. In fact, the cottage was just that - a cottage. Bigger than his family’s at Godric’s Hollow that was so rarely used, but much smaller than his estate or the Order headquarters. 

He nodded as she found the door they were looking for, confirming there wouldn’t be any problems opening it, and glanced over her shoulder as swung it open to revel a staircase down to a cellar. The spell told them it was unlikely anyone was down there - though not completely confirmed, given there was plenty that could be done to change the course of a Homenum - and Alice lit her wand so they would be able to make their way down into the darkness where the potion was brewing.

She went down first and James was caught off guard when the rickety wood snapped, propelling Alice forward down the steps, her wand light the only indication of where she might be. “Shit, shit, shit,” James said, pointing his own wand towards the light to halt her falling face first onto the concrete of the cellar. “Wingardium Leviosa,” he whispered quickly and the only proof he had that he’d actually hit Alice was the tug of his wand. 

He kept his wand up because he couldn’t see very well and jumped over the stair she’d fallen through, getting close enough that he could see her. “You okay?” he said quietly, righting her with his wand before letting up the spell. Turning, he pointed back up towards the door and gently closed it with another charm, twisting the knob with his wand carefully so they wouldn’t alert attention. 

Marlene suppressed a chuckle when James suggest she didn’t need to look further for a dick to add to her diet, a mocking sad sigh leaving her lips instead. “Sorry. I don’t think that’s going to be possible.” Marlene’s expression was apologetic bordering on solemn as if she was breaking some terrible news to him. “I didn’t bring a magnifying glass with me.”

Her joking tone stalled momentarily though. They were good at that, weaving in and out of the serious and the stupid. His response to her sarcasm was strange, because she had seen those sides of James. Down in those dungeons, he’d appointed himself protector of all of them, self-sacrificing moron that he was. Kindness didn’t have to come in the form of soft words and hugs, in fact Marlene preferred it when it didn’t. The look she gave him was one of derision when he claimed that they were the same. James was good. He hadn’t turned his back on the others. He hadn’t betrayed all his values. He hadn’t given in to his weaknesses. She couldn’t say that though could she? Not only because it would give her away, but because the idea of delivering a sincere compliment to James made her want to barf. 

“Commando?! I can tell you’ve never had a surprise period. Mine are sneaky little fuckers, arrive two weeks early with no warning and then BAM! Do you know how hard it is to get blood out of suede trousers? Even with magic! Nah, I can’t be risking commando. Well, yeah ok, maybe sometimes, when I’m feeling particularly frisky or I haven’t done my washing. I’m telling you though, granny panties are the way forward - bit of protection, they’re comfortable, and I don’t care what people say, granny panties can be sexy. It’s not my fault no one can pull them off the way I can. Well not literally pull them off. You get what I mean. Bra’s though… completely pointless. I don’t fuck with bras unless I’m going to a wedding. That’s how you know your event is fancy - if I show up wearing a bra.”

Marlene’s extended monologue about her underwear was punctuated with exhales of smoke. She wasn’t even really talking to James, relaxed back into the sofa and staring at the ceiling as she went on, only occasionally looking up to gesture and emphasise a point. Going on about this at least meant they didn’t have to talk about anything else. But then James went and brought it up anyway.

“I’m not tired.” She lied. Even as she sat stretched out on the couch as she was resisting the urge to lie down, curl up and close her eyes. It was an obvious lie too, the bags under her eyes and the time she’d shown up giving her away. “You can go to sleep if you want though. I’ll just-” she paused trying to make something up on the spot - she was a petulant child, refusing to give in before him. “-hang out.”

.

James burst out with a laugh, an energy that sometimes came even in the dungeons. Whenever he laughed like that, it brought attention, like it lightened a room and made everyone look. He used to laugh that like all the time back in school. “You really are an arse, you know that?” he said fondly to her, unaffected by the dick joke. 

His next one didn’t land as well as it could’ve because she’d suddenly moved on to talking about periods. James pulled a face at her as she went into detail. He wasn’t as weird about the subject as a lot of blokes - he’d dated Lily for six years, after all, and had lived with her for most of those - but that didn’t mean he needed this much information. Especially about Marlene’s time of the month. 

“Okay, okay, got it,” he said, forcing the stop. “Granny panties, yes; bras, no.” A summary of what she’d said without continuing the conversations. “Forget I said anything.”

He pushed himself even farther back into the sofa and reached for the spliff to take another hit. He held it up. “All done?” he asked her because they really shouldn’t do much more. Like he’d said, that shit was strong. “I’m not going to go to sleep and just have you watchin’ over me like a fucking creep.” He quirked a smile, looking sideway at her. “You sure you’re not tired? Come on, we can even cuddle. I’m a great cuddler. Just ask Sirius.”

There was always a weakness to people. Some tried to pretend that they weren’t there, tried to drag other parts of themselves over those flaws to hide that they were there, to pretend that there was no weakness. James Potter was one such person. Sirius Black was another. And then there were those that took those flaws and stretched them until they covered the person like a cloak, using them like armor. Regulus was one of those. It only made sense that those two things would clash, and as the start of that clash began in spectacular fashion, Regulus grinned at the other wizard with entirely too many teeth.

“Sirius follows you like you fed him scraps,” Regulus snorted, crossing his arms as best he could while supporting himself on the cane still. “You can admit that he’s been following your lead before he knew what it meant to have an individual thought, Potter, it’s alright. I won’t think less of you for it.”

And then what he expected from James fell from the man’s lips and the tight, somewhat polite yet cruel expression Regulus had drawn his face into fell into a scowl. “Oh do shut up Potter,” he snapped, “I know you’ve come to that conclusion far before now. Drop the act.” Regulus was determined not to verbally address the accuracy of what he said, thought he tightening on his knuckles and the flush of his cheeks gave the ruse up. Because yes, it was accurate. Entirely too accurate for Regulus to feel comfortable engaging in any extended conversation about it. There was one part though… One part needed to be answered.

“It’s fine,” Regulus shortly declared. “Thank you for your touching and yet deeply false concern on this matter.” As his head tilted a bit like a bird, he looked at James, that scowl still firmly in place, trying and failing to hide a flinch at the name. There were far too many memories associated with that man for Regulus to accept the name so casually falling out of a magic user’s mouth. “Don’t…” He trailed off, pausing. What was he supposed to say? If James said it, the man would arrive? It would sound preposterous. It didn’t stop him from being afraid. “If the Dark Lord called me, do you really think I’d still be here?”

Regulus knew that as soon as that mark burned, he was gone. Not back to the side of that man, no, and not to France. Mongolia, perhaps, or Iceland. Chile in the Americas or perhaps that blasted island of Australia. He wouldn’t stay anywhere near the man. Regulus was, however, equally sure that the man across from him wouldn’t take that sentence to mean what Regulus knew was true. That was, admittedly, more of a reason for him to say it.

After all, once the Dark Lord knew he had survived, Regulus knew he was dead.

“Walburga? No, nursery rhymes never suited her style of child-raising,” Regulus noted, absently. Tapping his chin as if he was trying to recall some difficult, long-forgotten fact, he looked at James for a long moment. “No, I think it was… Yes, that’s right, it was my cousin Bella that helped me come up with that rhyme as a child. I did always admire her, you know. Tried to emulate her as best I could. The rhyme seemed like a good place to start. Did you ever meet my cousin, Potter?”

Regulus wouldn’t be surprised if he had. He had heard about those Order members going missing. Being here solidified in his mind that James had been one and knowing Bella, Regulus was near-certain he had met here while… Indisposed.

.

James glared at Regulus when he suggested Sirius just followed him around. As though his brother wasn’t his own individual person. As though Sirius wasn’t better than being some sidekick. “The fact that you think that shows exactly how much you don’t know about your brother,” James retorts back. Because, if Regulus knew anything at all, then he’d realize that Sirius had done just as much for James as James had done for him. That, out of anyone in this world, James needed Sirius the most, especially now.

Oh, ho, must’ve hit a nerve because Regulus was telling him to drop the act before commenting on his Dark Mark. It wasn’t until the other wix visibly tensed at the name that James smirked, however. Good. Just when he’d been going for. “I don’t fucking know how it works!” James admitted about the Mark. “Do you, like, die if he tries to summon you and you don’t immediately go to his beck and call? Or is more that if Voldemort - “ The name again, intentional. “ - called you, you’d run scared? Again.”

The rhyme wasn’t Sirius’ mother, but it was a cousin. Bellatrix. James knew her. He knew her better than a lot of people, he assumed. Bellatrix had never worried herself over masks when they were imprisoned. As though assuming she’d be able to kill them eventually or maybe she just didn’t care. It wasn’t as though they could prove she was a Death Eater. And, even if they could, she was, unfortunately, smart enough to get away with it. 

James knew her voice and her face and the way she laughed when he screamed. He knew how excited she was whenever he gave his body up to save one of the others from their walking nightmare. Ickle, ickle, hero Potter didn’t have enough the other day, did he? she’d say. Her voice was a sing-song, talking in riddles and poetry that made it entirely easy for him to picture her sharing dark nursey rhymes with her young cousin.

The doubt in his voice cut through her in the sweetest, most ache-inducing way possible, all the way down to the deepest parts of her, the place where that love had been so carefully, painstakingly tucked away. Jealously guarded, masochistically fed, poorly contained, a constant drive that allowed her to keep going—though if he could doubt that she loved him, even for a second, perhaps she had contained it too well.

Lily could see the conflict flashing just behind James’s eyes; the war with himself that she knew all too well. Weren’t her own battlefield littered with the scars of the same fights? The struggle between what she wanted, more than anything in this world, and what she needed. There was still the crater from the moment those two had stopped being the same thing. Lily knew him, and she understood him, and she could see all the ways this could end.

She wasn’t surprised when he started to pull away.       —Her heart might have cracked all the same.

“James,” she started, only to bite back the name as she turned the option into an order. Instead, she squeezed his hand, hoped that was enough. (Knew it never could be.) “You have always been good,” she stressed, because that much she could at least speak the full truth of. “And you’ll be the best again.” Another squeeze before she forced herself to release his hands. “Go. Shouldn’t get in trouble over me.” A cop-out, a retreat behind teasing, because that was easier than admitting to breaking both their hearts all over again.

For a moment, she pulled him back. It was just his name, but James thought that maybe it meant something more, too. He hated the rush of hope that moved through him. That idea that she would force him to stay, keep him here, that she would let herself love him again like she used to. 

But she just said that he was always good and would be the best again someday. As though he’d ever been that. He’d had four months of captivity to reflect over every little choice he’d ever made it in life and he knew that, while he wasn’t exactly bad, that didn’t mean he was ever good either.

She let him leave, though, and James stood with a sad smile, squeezing her hand one more time before he stepped back, letting it go. Letting her go. “Feel better,” he said, his voice strained with the understanding of what they’d just ended a second time. 

He turned quickly before he could change his mind and could almost feel the tears threatening at his eyes again. He sniffed roughly, pushed them back, and moved to where he could see Emmeline standing. “Take care of her for me,” he said with a soft, sad smile, reaching up to touch Emme’s shoulder gently.

James left the hospital wing then, rushing down the hallway of the estate with voices louder now that the meeting was over. On his way to the Entry Room to get the fuck out of here, he saw Severus on the other side of a corridor. He halted, standing frozen, and it was clear that the other wix understood just where he was coming from. They said nothing to one another, but James gave a small nod in their direction, almost a passing of the wand. Severus would be able to watch after Lily.

James only had to trust that.

FIN FOR JAMES.

marls-mckins​:​

Bottle of firewhiskey under arm, and hands full of bags of snacks, Marlene stood watching Emmeline take a drag with faint amusement. It was a moment of contentedness she thought she’d never have again, watching her friends shenanigans. Only, these people weren’t her friends. She barely knew them. She’d heard their screams, knew their sounds of pain all too well, but did she really know them at all? What was Emmeline’s middle name? Did James prefer popcorn or pretzels? She took a guess, throwing the bag of pretzels directly at his face as she made her way across the room it sit back down. 

“Give it a minute to kick in.” She said, switching the bag of popcorn for the joint, snatching it out of Emmeline’s hand and dumping the foil bag unceremoniously into the other girl’s lap. She was half way through a long slow drag when Emmeline made her announcement. A cloud of smoke erupted from Marlene’s mouth as she let out a spluttering laugh. Emme’s innocence never failed to make Marlene chuckle, but the horror and guilt that were etched into her face, over a kiss of all things, brought out her bark of a laugh.

“Godric, Emme. You say it like you fucked him in the arse. It was a kiss, no one’s going to care.” Marlene wished the only thing she had to worry about was a kiss. Not that she’d ever spent much time fretting over romance, or who was dating who, or any of those labels. Joint in hand, she flopped into the seat across from Emmeline, eyeing her warily. “Why would you want to kiss that dweeb anyway?”

No sooner than she had sat down, she was up again to answer the knocking at the door. She knew exactly would be on the other side, and so on her way over took a second drag, holding the smoke in her lungs. Her only greeting to Gideon once she wretched the door open, was to exhale, blowing the smoke purposefully and directly into his face. A wicked cat-like grin took over her features. “Welcome. We were just discussing Emme’s sordid love life. You wouldn’t believe the things she was telling us - positions I haven’t even heard of. She’s a dark horse, that one.” She turned her back, collapsing into her seat.

“Go on then, Emme. Tell Gideon about the awful things you’ve been up to.” Marlene nudged the younger girl with her foot. Pushing buttons was a new found hobby of Marlene’s, she pushed boundaries, tried to see how far she could go before it was too far. It didn’t feel like she was anywhere close to that line yet, but she was happy to creep ever closer. 

She offered the spliff she was holding up to Gideon. “Trust me, you’ll need this.”

@gidprxwett​

The mission had gone well for his team all things considered and he was happy to be out of the order meetings and free to do as he wanted for awhile. He had spent some time with Moody and had wanted to go to the cottage with him right away but he had decided to check in with his friends first. He wasn’t ready to share the details of his blossoming relationship with anyone but he was happy to spend some time with them just catching up. He had been a bit absent lately and he needed to make up for it.

He had arrived to the gathering late but he had brought some sweets along with him to hopefully make up for it. Marlene greeting him at the door with a puff of smoke in his face made a small smile come to his lips. He found himself coughing a few times but he moved to take a seat next to her on the sofa setting the sweets down on the table. He would have greeted all of them but he found himself speechless for a few moments.

“Um.. I’m sorry what was that? Emme is most certainly not about to tell me about some crazy love life. I wasn’t aware you had one yet.” He turned from Marlene to stare at Emme for a moment. “Marlene is just trying to stress me out right? You aren’t out doing crazy things like she said. Also who are you having a love life with. I need to know so I can decide if I approve or not. I at least need to be able to threaten them.”

He took what Marlene handed him without much thought. His mind still reeling from what he had heard upon his arrival. “James is Marlene telling me to truth? Or is she trying to see how fast she can give me a heart attack? I stole these sweets from my sister by the way so you guys know they have to taste good. My baking skills are not really all that great yet.”

@perniciouspotter

James shrugged. “I think he fucks around with it, yeah.” He laughed softly when Emmeline took the hit and started coughing. “You’ll get the hang of it,” he said to her fondly, reaching out to rub her back as Marlene took the spliff. “Just give it a bit,” he instructed Emmeline, who definitely wouldn’t feel it within just a few seconds, but would soon enough, even with one hit. The most he’d allow her tonight is two puffs - wouldn’t want her getting fucked up on the first try.

He dropped his hand as she blurted something out about kissing Dirk. He let out a little laugh, a noise of disbelief, as she confessed it. “You’re not,” he said immediately at the same time Marlene said something similar, albeit much rougher, causing him to laugh. “That’s a good question,” James said back to why two people wanted to date Dirk Cresswell. He looked at Emmeline before she could get upset and held up his hands in surrender. “I’m only jokin’!” 

Marlene went to grab the door for him and spilled the beans to Gideon right away, exaggerating enough to get the oldest of them riled up. James rolled his eyes as Gideon sat down and started to coddle Emmeline. “She just kissed Cresswell, mate,” he said. “It’s not that big of a deal.” He leaned forward to grab a tart from the container Gideon brought rather greedily - Molly Weasley’s cooking was the fucking shit! - before leaning back next to Emmeline and taking a large bite.

He talked around it. “No one’s getting fucked up the arse and no one’s hearing wedding bells. Let her live, Gid! Emme deserves a bit of fun.” He elbowed Emmeline lightly, grinning at her after he swallowed. “Date him if you want him,” he advised. “Who cares if he’s dating Nicky? You’re obviously better.”

The evening prior he’d had planned for James and himself had been derailed thanks to Emmeline, and Sirius had left before he’d even gotten to see his best mate. Seeing Emmeline take up space in their life wasn’t easy for him - change never was easy for Sirius - and he’d been upset. He’d known about Emmeline moving in before seeing her at Godric’s Hollow, sure, but the change felt sudden and unwanted.

Something like relief washed over Sirius at James’ invitation, though, and he had readily agreed to meet up with him, without Emmeline. Sirius sprawled on the couch, making himself comfortable in what felt like his second home, and took the drink that was offered with a little grin and a nod of thanks. Bottles clinked in a familiar fashion, and Sirius took a few swigs as he settled in to enjoy their time together. 

But James’ question caught him off-guard, and Sirius suddenly felt like an eleven year old caught red-handed by McGonagall again, like he’d been doing something he shouldn’t have. Because wasn’t he? He’d taken the first steps back into his Dark Arts venture, contacted and reconciled with Lily in secret, and Sirius didn’t know how to tell that to James, without hurting him. He didn’t know if he should.

There was a nugget of a fear that lived in the back of his mind that, one day, James would realize he wasn’t good. Because James was good. James was one of the best people that Sirius knew, and Sirius just…wasn’t. And, if James were to realize that, Sirius feared that he would lose the one person he couldn’t stand to lose - again - and that was something he couldn’t handle to think of.

Sirius considered his words, but he found himself answering with a half shrug and another swig of Firewhiskey. “What would I want to tell you, hm?” he asked, instead, finding an ally in avoidance. But a little hint of a smirk found its way onto Sirius’ face, and he tilted his bottle in James’ direction as he spoke. “You got something to tell me? I mean, where the hell were you yesterday?” He quirked a brow, and took another sip of his drink, wanting to steer the conversation away from what he’d been up to lately. “I stopped by, even brought you a little present because I’m so damn nice.”

James could tell that Sirius was surprised by his line of questioning, but only because he knew his friend as well as he knew himself. With anyone else, Sirius would’ve been able to hide that simply, throwing it under a handsome smile and easy swag. But whatever it was, Sirius didn’t want to tell him, and that made James’ eyes narrow slightly in suspicion. What was he hiding?

“Dunno, just figured I’d ask,” he replied, letting his friend off the hook for now. He wasn’t really worried about them or anything, but it was just more distant... like something was off. He could push later, if he needed to.

Besides, Sirius was throwing the question back at him and James snorted lightly, taking a drink from his bottle. He wasn’t shy about sex - not anymore, not since he was sixteen and pretending he wasn’t. But still, his news felt big not only because it was James’ first time with anyone other than Lily since he was a kid, but also because of who it was with.