james 'prongs' potter

By the sounds of it, the Centaur was going through some stuff, and while many would have been surprised at James Potters empathy for his new friend, Benjy saw it as just another interesting fact about the idolized wizard. It was becoming clearer to Benjy that tonight was to be one of learning. James and the lads were what some might call popular, their pranks stuff of legends that would stand the test of time, but it was becoming easier to see that poster boy and quidditch champion James Potter wasn’t really at all what people thought he was.

Finishing off his beer Benjy rolled the bottle back and forth in the palm of his hands, that Ravenclaw mind of his ticking over with all the things he could say to the other boy, and weather or not now was the best time to mention the feeling that Benjy knew was growing within people, a heaviness in their gut and an ever growing worry of the mind that no one could place. The world had grown a little darker, and while many would have expected the golden boy not to have noticed, Benjy was putting money on he had.

“So, Mr Purebood.” Benjy wiggled his eyebrows, trying to ease their entrance into the conversation. Being Co pres of the Movement was kind of an excuse for him to put things so bluntly. “Something tells me your family has some old school values, ones that you value too. What are the ones around blood purity?” His tone was kind, but there was a hard hit of genuine interest in his voice. Benjy knew for a fact that James didn’t show any kind of outright disgust towards witches and wizards who weren’t so inclined when it came to their family tree, he also knew that the lad had never singled anyone out either, unlike someone like Evan Rosier who spilled bile daily and threw the word ‘mudblood’ around like they were the lowest form of life on this earth.

@potterstagger​

James almost choked on his beer at Benjy’s very straight-forward question. While blood purity, and the growing darkness surrounding the castle, was on everyone’s mind, it was a rare thing, especially for those who weren’t concerned by it, to discuss it so openly. Him and the boys had talked about it a few times, but each instance had been triggered by a particular incident, and forgotten relatively quickly after that. The events with Sirius’ family, of course, had recently put things in perspective a bit more. But maybe because most Gryffindors already knew where they stood, and they never really had to deal with the worst of it themselves, it wasn’t a common topic of conversation, at least in his dorm room. But then there was Lily, and Mary, and the bullying that they all noticed and tried to stop whenever they could. He knew he was lucky to be able not to talk about blood purity every day, but he’d been feeling more and more restless about staying silent lately. 

“Alright, straight to the point, I see.” He took the time to drink a bit more and think through his next words. He’d never been asked to take a stand in such a way; the question posed almost for the sake of the intellectual debate, without animosity or, it seemed, expectations for his answer (although he knew better). Usually whenever blood purity came up, he was angry, someone had been hurt, and he’d had to react based on instinct. “The only values my family made a point to pass on to me was to be brave, actually. I’m more lucky than most in that aspect,” he mused, knowing how tightly linked old families and purism were. He hated to think of the man he could’ve become if he’d been raised by people like the Lestranges. But he was also mature enough to remember the look of disdain on his parents’ faces when he mentioned Slytherins, or Blacks, which seemed to match that of purists talking about muggleborns. Not everything was black and white after all. 

He took a deep breath. “I don’t give a rat’s arse about anyone’s blood status, if that’s your question. I’ve heard about your little club, so I guess you don’t either. But I don’t really know if it’s my fight to fight, if that makes sense.” @thatkidbenjy​

Looking up to see the Gryffindor Captain, she let out a groan of irritation, sitting up straight. “Might want to tell you beater. Got knocked straight out of his broom, will he be okay?” She sarcastically asked. In all honesty, she did care (just a little bit), about his well being, but she would never admit it to anyone, let alone James. If Sirius hadn’t mentioned their arrangement, she was definitely not going to mention it herself.

James shrugged, but he knew some of the anger he felt at Regulus’ action made it onto his face – he was so much worse than Sirius at hiding his feelings (something about not being raised by purist maniacs you constantly need to hide your true feelings from, probably). “He’ll be alright, thanks for the concern. Is your Beater getting personal and viciously attacking someone from the opposite team while also not facilitating a single goal for his own all you’re taking away from the game? Truly, I think the real question here is how are you doing after this debacle?” @vanityvio​

Olivia couldn’t believe she was really having this conversation with James, this is something she’d probably talk about with her roommates. “Gryffindor boys are great,” She nodded, unsure of really how to answer that question. Personally, she wasn’t best friends with many of the guys in other houses but she supposed she could be if James introduced her to anyone, “If you want to, I’m okay with being introduced to someone.”

@potterstagger​

James was almost jumping up and down his seat with excitement - he hadn’t expected Liv to be so open to the idea – in his head, Ravenclaws were usually close to allergic to the idea of dating before getting their diplomas. “Merlin, alright, okay. This shall be my new mission. What’s your type? What are you looking for? We’ve got a bit of everything over at Gryffindor headquarters,” he said with a grin. @liv-rosmerta​

Lucius looked at the boy with confusion. No doubt he had a hidden agenda. He was a vile, pathetic, arrogant boy, it was not like like him to give compliments.Of course,  it wasn’t a real compliment, more a backhanded on at best. Lucius wasn’t going to bite yet though, he wanted to see how long Potter would keep this up for.

“Yes, well i’ve always known i’m exceptionally talented” he replied “it’s taken you long enough to notice”

@potterstagger​

“Well, you know me. I like to think I’m a fair lad – and I it’s important to give a compliment where a compliment is due. How much of Slytherin’s whooping fifteen points were thanks to you, again? I remember being quite impressed you even scored that much at the time.” While taunting the other boy was fun, James quickly realized it was getting boring. He was much more interested in openly telling Malfoy how shite they’d been rather than give smart backhanded compliments – too convoluted for him, they were much more to Remus’ speed now that he thought about it.  @kingofthemanor​ 

the slytherin was not in the mood to deal with james potter and he was sure the look on his face gave that away. rod would do anything to make him disappear and the thought of a spell that severus mentioned once before flitted through his mind. it wasn’t something appropriate for public and as his knuckles whitened from him tightening the grip on his box of chocolates, rodolphus sincerely wished the two of them were alone so he could leave the gryffindor bleeding on the ground without a care in the world. instead of answering his question, rodolphus diverted the conversation. “don’t you have anywhere else you could possibly be, potter? maybe getting in the extra practice your shoddy team needs?” @potterstagger​

James hadn’t expected to get under Lestrange’s skin so easily and quickly, but he was never one to complain about riling up Slytherins. Picking up a box of candies on his right and feigning to be engrossed in its contents, he hummed to himself. “Sure thing, Lestrange. Could do that. But why would I when it seems like there’s another team who needs my help much more? I’m always happy to give advice – maybe I can see with McGonagall if we could set up some kind of Quidditch tutoring scheme. A buddy system, perhaps, where every Gryffindor can help a Slytherin get better,” he said with a blinding smile as he popped one of the candies into his mouth. @rod-lestrxnge​

Ted chuckled. “Glad t’ know yur so concerned for my health mate” he was unfazed by James taking a second sweet. He’d brought them over purposely to share. Due to being in different houses and years, he didn’t get to talk to James as often as he’d like.  He was a little too mischievous sometimes, but Ted respected James, he had a good heart and he always meant well.

Ah quidditch, that made sense. He was captain so naturally he would be researching strategy. Amos was already kick their butts, and it wasn’t even their match this weekend. “O’ course,  beside the logical reasons for supportin’ Gryffindor an’ cheering on Slytherin’s downfall,  Lottie told me she’ll be playing so”

@potterstagger​

James nodded, remembering he’d heard that his childhood friend was now seeing the Hufflepuff. “Yeah, thought I’d switch things up a bit and put Lottie on for the first half at least,” he answered, his tone getting more interested as it always did when he got to talk about Quidditch strategy. Although he quickly realized that confiding in Tonks that he wasn’t sure Lottie, or the rest of his team for that matter, would be up for the challenge might not be the best thing to do. “Hopefully your girl brings about the Slytherin downfall we’ve all been waiting for. That’d be a nice gift for her last year before leaving Hogwarts.” @teddybeartonks​

What is the most unusual thing about you? 

There’s nothing very unusual about James Potter – he’s tried hard to craft his personality according to what he knows people like, and after his own parents, who are the greatest people he knows (and if you ask him, the most boringly normal). To a lot of people, James Potter’s life is uncomplicated and privileged; and he doesn’t necessarily disagree. It probably helps that laughing and talking to strangers come easily to him, that he seems to be liked, that he never really had to prove himself to anyone. 

There are a few odd things about his personality though; for example, in the way he treats duelling and conversations like a game of Quidditch, usually visualizing every word or spell as players and team formations. Or the way he spends so much time thinking about what kind of father he’ll be, and the things he wants to pass on to his children, the way he wants their father to be remembered, even though he’s only 16. To most people, these odd little habits might be all that comes to mind when asking about his personality’s uniqueness. 

It’s times like these that she’s reminded that she actually does like James Potter, despite how infuriating he can be sometimes. When he puts aside the showing off and the over-the-top flirting, and she becomes a little less judgmental and uptight, they actually have some really nice conversations. For the first time, she was starting to think that she and Potter could become real friends, not just the sometimes-friendly, sometimes-not that they’d been up until now. She hadn’t been lying when she’d said that she saw who he was at his best. His  love for his friends might rival even her own, and she can’t help but be impressed by that. People who love fiercely and completely have always been her type of people. She thinks they might be cut from the same cloth in that regard. 

Of course, the one thing they may never come to an accord on is Severus, but she’s starting to realize that that might be okay. She bites her lip, considering. “No, you’re right,” she finally agrees, debating whether or not to continue. “There’s more to the story than just hanging around the wrong group of people, or peer pressure from others in his House. That’s all I can tell you because the rest is private, and in any case, none of it is an excuse. But I think that understanding why someone is the way they are isn’t the same as justifying their actions. And having empathy for someone isn’t the same thing as excusing them, either.” She’s taken aback by his display of sympathy and she says earnestly, “Thank you, but you don’t have to be sorry. It was confusing and scary at first, of course, but I was luckier than most muggleborns. I figured out what was really happening to me long before I got my Hogwarts letter.” She gives a sigh and a shrug. “It’s not that I think I owe him anything,” she insists. “But part of me will always be grateful for what he did for me. In any case, I think on this one we may just have to agree to disagree.” She gives him a sad smile. 

She scoffs a little at his next words, shaking her head. “Please, he wasn’t in love with me. Everyone thinks that, but we were just friends, really.” She doesn’t know why it’s so important to her that he understands this, all she knows is that this conversation is encroaching on dangerously familiar territory, and she’s flashing back to another time, where Severus had been the one insisting, “He fancies you! James Potter fancies you!” and the jealousy in his tone had made her uncomfortable. She told herself that it was just because he hated James, not because of anything else, but she doesn’t like to think about it too closely. It just makes the entire thing all the more painful. She sighs again, wishing that he could believe that there was a time before Severus cared about blood purity, that she knows there was, but she thinks this is another thing that falls into the agree-to-disagree category. 

She gives him a small but genuine smile at his attempt to comfort her, and decides that he’s right. She’s not going to beat herself up over loving someone who had been there for her when no one else was. She tried to keep him off of that path, she’d done everything she could, but at the end of the day, she couldn’t make his choices for him, and when it had become clear that he’d gone down that path she couldn’t follow, she’d let him go. Besides, she has enough to deal with lately without adding her own self-loathing to that list. 

At his next words, she groans melodramatically and says, “I knew as soon as I said that that you would make me live to regret it. See if I ever give you a compliment again.” She sticks her tongue out childishly. She rolls her eyes and says, “Please. I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you.” But she can’t help but blushing a little bit, because for the first time, she’s starting to see why every girl in school tends to fall for James Potter.

Even while she’s defending his least favorite person on earth, Lily Evans manages to surprise him with her kindness and the regard she holds for her friends – however shitty they may be. He likes that about her (he likes a lot of things about her, admittedly). He appreciates that there seems to be things about Snape she doesn’t want to share with him, even when trying to make him see the Slytherin in a better light. While she’s always so serious and sometimes even uptight, he’s always loved the way she loves. It’s the most obvious with the girls; the way she comes to their rescue and defense any chance she gets, the way she feels everything they feel right with them. He can recognize himself in her, the way they’d both go to crazy extents for their little group. “Agree to disagree, huh?” he asks with a quirked eyebrow. “Now that just sounds a bit too mature, even for us, Evans. I was more thinking along the lines of let’s talk about it until we wake up the whole tower with our screaming match,” he says with a laugh although he welcomes the change in pace. 

He knows that this version of him, the one that listens and tries to show empathy, is the one most likely to win her over. But it’s also exhausting to be like this when all he wants to do is scream and shout about right and wrong and about how much better he is and will always be than Snivellus. He knows it’s not the way to go about it, but there’s something about Lily Evans that always makes him want to act out, especially if he knows it’s going to anger her. Maybe it’s just about getting some reaction out of her, his eleven-year-old ego still not recovered from her unimpressed look at his extended hand. Either way, he doesn’t know what it is, but he’s not sure he can maintain this fragile understanding they seem to have for very long. She instills in him feelings that are much more intense than quiet understanding and fragile friendship. 

“Oh please, he was so in love with you. Still is, I’d wager. Why’d you think he hates me so much?” he asks, although that may be dangerous territory to head towards. He doesn’t know that he’s in love with Lily Evans. He knows that he wants them to end up together, and he knows that there’s no girl in this world that will ever pale in comparison to her. He thinks about her constantly, finds way to bring her up in every conversation he ever has, and spends whatever time he’s not with the Marauders writing sonnets about the shade of her hair. Still, at this point it feels more like a personality trait than what he guesses true love feels like. And he knows she probably knows this, which is why she give him an eye roll every time he tries something. She probably sees right through him and is smart enough to be wary of his crush. 

He grins at her, at the familiar territory, at the ecstatic feeling he gets at the realization that bantering with Lily Evans is just as easy as it is with the lads. “Oh you don’t need to – since you just gave me about five in one sitting. And I shall never forget them.” He looks at her, straight in eye, maybe for one second too much. He’s definitely planning on holding his breath for a very long time, and she probably knows this, but somehow it feels worth repeating. “You know I’ll wait for you,” he says, his tone light and joking but his gaze as serious as he ever is when he thinks about the kind of future he wants to have. @lilyxcvans​

Edgar felt blood rush to his cheeks as his brain processed the fact that James Potter had just witnessed his crash-and-burn. Even after James admitted that he shouldn’t feel bad, Edgar could help but feel as if the older quidditch player was just saying it. He rose to his feet and brushed the grass from his kit. “Thanks I guess.” He started as he walked over to his broom. “I’ve had much worse. Henry can be pretty aggressive sometimes.” Edgar knew that James and Henry shared a dorm room and had even begged Henry to organise a practice with James but Henry said no. “Great game the other day by the way. I was sure Slytherin was going to win but your team really came through.” 

|| @potterstagger​

James scoffed, “Henry’s nothing, believe me – give it a few more months and you can take him easily,” he joked. The Marauders got along great with their fifth roommate, contrary to what people might think considering he’d never made it into their four-way group. He just didn’t have the same love for pranking and fooling around, but he was still very close to them, if only due to proximity. James had something of a quiet understanding with him, and although he liked to tease Bones endlessly, Henry always gave back as much grief as he got. James quirked an eyebrow though – “oh, you were sure they were going to win, weren’t you? I don’t know how to take this obvious lack of faith in my team, Little Bones,” he said crossing his arms. He didn’t really interact with Edgar all that much, being in different years and houses, so he wasn’t so sure he had what it took to handle the same kind of banter his brother was used to. @edgar-bones​

Are you afraid of death?

No– James Potter is afraid of more things than one would assume, yet dying, per se, isn’t one of them. He absolutely loves to live; and a lot of people would say he’s more alive than most. He’s loud and fast and hard. He wants to live until he’s old and cranky and can’t move even a finger (preferably with Lily Evans in the same state by his side). He wants to travel, and laugh, and meet all kinds of people – mostly, he wants to make a difference. He wants to have children (once again, preferably with Lily Evans) and teach them Quidditch, teach them how to be good while not taking anything too seriously. He wants to meet Sirius’ kids, and Remus’, and Peter’s, be their cool uncle the way they’ll be cool uncles to his own. James Potter wants to live so much, in a way that will build a legacy long remembered. But if he doesn’t get to do any of that, if his life is cut short before he can look back on it with peaceful satisfaction, he knows that he will have tried his best and that it will have to be enough. 

He doesn’t fear death; the great big nothing that awaits him. It’s hard to explain, but somehow, somewhere deep inside of him, he knows that he’ll die doing something good. Making a difference, hopefully as an Auror. Or saving someone, protecting someone he loves. When he thinks about it like that, there’s nothing scary about putting his life on the line to do the right thing and protect the people he loves. He’s been lucky enough to meet and care about so many wonderful people. He knows he’s been lucky enough to be handed a life where nothing has ever been truly hard for him, not yet. So all he can do is his best until the day comes when it all ends. Preferably latter rather than sooner, certainly – but it’s his job to start building a legacy now, so that when the day comes to leave it all behind, he can welcome it with open arms and know he is proud of who he was. 

She rolls her eyes a bit at his feigned sympathy, but there’s no malice behind it. She’s starting to understand that that’s just how James Potter handles serious conversations, by injecting a little bit of humor into them. Honestly, she’s a little grateful for it in this moment. This whole thing has gotten more deep and complicated than she ever intended, and she needs the dose of levity right now. Still, something he says makes her pause, and she feels the need to defend herself. “But that’s the thing,” she swears, “I’m not excusing his behavior. What he’s chosen to believe is wrong, and I know that. There is no excuse for it. But that doesn’t change the fact that he was my best friend, and that I can’t hate him completely. Trust me, I know that it would be easier if I could. I know you do,” she says, “But you can’t expect me to feel about him the same way you do, any more than I can expect you to feel the way I do.”

She shakes her head. “I’m not comparing Sirius and Severus.” A little smile of amusement quirks her lips, and she says, “Lord knows they’d both take offense to it if I did. I’m comparing the relationship. Sirius is your best friend, Severus was mine. And maybe he didn’t change overnight, but you’re wrong about him always being this way,” she protests. She considers for a moment before deciding to confess, “I knew him from before Hogwarts, you know. He was the first person to tell me that I was a witch. Finally, all the things that I thought were wrong with me, that made me a freak, someone could explain. I was different, but not in a bad way. He was the first person to make me see that.” Her eyes turn wistful as she gets caught back up in the memories. “And he didn’t care one bit back then that I was a muggleborn, never cared anything about the blood purity nonsense that he and his friends go on about now.” She thinks of a little boy with bruises that never seemed to fade, and sad eyes that only seemed to light up when they saw her, and she has to turn away again. “He was the first person to think that there was something special about me. And obviously over the years things have changed; he’s gotten caught up more with the blood purists, he’s become far too interested in dark magic. But that wasn’t always who he was. And again, I’m not excusing him, or making justifications for it. I’m just saying that people can change, and when you don’t change together, letting go is hard.”

She’s surprised when he takes her hand, but she doesn’t pull away. She finds that she appreciates the gesture. She listens to him, wishing she could believe that he was right, but something holds her back. “But isn’t it like you said? By being friends with him, wasn’t I ‘complicit in his bullshit,’ as you put it?” she asks, not sure she wants to know the answer. “He was careful to never say those things around me, but I knew the company he kept, and they were never shy about making it clear what they thought of me, or Mary or Ted. I don’t blame myself for his prejudice,” she’s quick to reassure. “I just…I wonder if I was willfully ignorant, if I only saw what I wanted to see. And if I was, did I stand by while injustice was being done, purely because I didn’t want to see it. I don’t…I don’t like to think that about myself,” she says in a small voice.

She rolls her eyes again as he throws he own words back at her, but she’s laughing, so she hopes he doesn’t take offense. “You’re impossible,” she protests, still laughing. “And for the record, if you ever tell anyone I said any of those things, I will deny it to my grave, so don’t even think about it.” Shaking her head with a fond smile, she finds that when he’s not making her question everything she’s ever believed about herself, she actually enjoys his company. It’s nice to laugh again, even of the moment is brief. For a while there, she was afraid she had forgotten how. 

When it comes to Lily Evans, James Potter will take whatever he can get, and count it an absolute win. Seeing her laugh at his stupid jokes and leave her hand in his feels like a bigger victory than any Quidditch game he’s ever played, or any other girl he’s ever seduced. He tries hard to fight it, but a small smile seems to settle on his lips without any intention of leaving any time soon. He laughs along with her, imagining for just a minute what would happen if Padfoot caught him comparing him to Snape in any way. The image is amusing, if disturbing and highly improbable. The moment they’re sharing, right now, Lily Evans and James Potter sitting around the Common room, joking about their respective best friends, feels like a kind of magic he’s never experienced before. It feels special, and important, and he doesn’t want it to end, even if that means talking about Snivellus of all people. 

As she reveals more of her and Snape’s friendship’s history, he tries hard to stay silent and listen and maybe even believe her, but it’s a task that soon enough he realizes he might never succeed at. “Alright, we’re doing the thing where we’re being painfully honest now, right? Well, I have trouble believing that. I have trouble believing that there’s such a thing as becoming a purist maniac solely because you hang around ‘the wrong crowd.’ I can’t speak to the muggleborn experience, obviously. I’m sorry you had to go through that, not knowing what was happening to you or what your magic meant. But all I’m hearing is that he was simply the only wizard around, and all he did was tell you that you weren’t a freak, because you weren’t, and he was the only one around who knew about the wizarding world. That doesn’t make him your savior, or a hero” 

He shrugs, feeling frustrated that words aren’t coming to him as easily as he’d like. Everything he says seems to fall short of what he means. But he knows that if they stop talking now, they’ll probably never breach the topic ever again. And he needs her to know; that he’s trying, that he’s listening, that Snape really is a bad person, but that none of it is her fault. “To you, maybe he was never a purist – but to the rest of us, it’s only ever looked like one thing; he was always a blood purist, except he was in love with you. You were special to him, because you were the one muggleborn who was pretty enough and nice enough not to deserve the treatment he gave to everyone else.” His tone comes out a bit harsher that he intended it, and he hopes she doesn’t take it as aggressiveness towards her. It’s just a hard topic for him; because he knows what it’s like to be in love with Lily Evans and to see nothing but her, to realize how special and different and perfect she is. He knows because he’s been there. In phases and with varying intensity over the years, maybe – but he’s experienced first hand what it’s like to want to treat her differently than the rest of the world. He gets it in a way no one else ever will. But that shouldn’t allow anyone to get away with what Snivellus’s done, what he is. 

James doesn’t want to twist the knife in what seems to be a very open wound. He doesn’t want to be the one to tell her that she aided his purism by still calling him a friend all those years. No muggleborn deserves to be told that, but Lily Evans least of all. Not her, the most exact example of kindness and strength he’s ever met. “Stop – you have a big heart. It’s okay if you cared about someone and wanted to see the good in him, that’s who you are. All you can do now is stay true to what you know him to be. Maybe a part of you knew and just ignored it, which isn’t great, but there’s no need to lose sleep over it now that you’ve made the hard but right decision.” Her small voice makes his whole chest burn with the need to do something, but he doesn’t know what would help either of them in that moment. James wants to comfort her, to see her laugh again. He’d even take her hexing him in frustration over the shy look of pain in her eyes. Even if that look is the reason he’s able to hold her hand right now, he’d rather she screamed at him, the fire in her eyes a much more comforting sight than the painful hint of abandonment he can see in that moment. 

He laughs along – impossible seems like a compliment in the mouth of a girl who knows and can do everything there is to know and do. “Oh, you better believe I will tell absolutely everyone you said those things, Miss Prefect. Granted, very few will ever believe it, so you’re safe enough on that front. Although–” he says looking at her with a devilish smile, “you and I shall never forget this moment, and I’ll make sure to remind you of it until you either kill me or fall in love with me.” @lilyxcvans​

She thinks this might be the first time in six years that he’s actually called her Lily. Something about it makes her sit up and take notice, listen to him harder. He’s not saying any of this to hurt her, she realizes, or to get under her skin. He truly believes that Severus is the enemy, and it’s not born out of the childish hatred of their early disputes, or simple House rivalry anymore. It’s about what they believe, fundamentally, about who is deserving to be a part of their world or not, and for once she knows that in the never-ending feud between these two boys, that James Potter is the one in the right. Severus hates muggles. Severus might even want to kill muggles, and muggleborns, like her. James Potter is saying to her “that’s wrong. That’s evil.” And she’s sitting here debating him like she doesn’t already know that with her whole heart. She feels a headache coming on suddenly, and she rubs her temples. 

At his mention of Sirius, she looks up. She knows a little bit about what happened with Sirius and his family, everyone does, of course, and she’d offered to lend him an ear more than once, though he hadn’t seemed very willing to talk about it at the time. It’s the parallel between the four of them that really interests her now. “Sirius is your best friend. You love him,” she says, not needing confirmation. You don’t do what he did, invite someone into your home, make them a part of your family, treat them like a brother, for someone you don’t love. “I’m asking you to imagine for a moment that Sirius had betrayed you, really betrayed you, to the point where you can no longer justify being his friend. And don’t tell me he wouldn’t,” she insists. “That’s not the point. Imagine that that happened, and you had to do what I did.” She matches his gaze steadily. “Is there any part of you that would be able to hate him completely? Any part of you that wouldn’t wish him well, that wouldn’t hope for him to make the right choices and stay on the right path?” She shakes her head. “If you can imagine that, can you imagine how difficult this is for me, to know that you’re probably right, and there’s likely to come a day where it’ll be him or me?” She doesn’t know why she’s so desperate to make him understand, for him to see, she just knows she is. 

But you don’t get a medal for making the right choices. She doesn’t know why it surprises her so much that he has this philosophy. Maybe because it’s so similar to her own, yet so different at the same time. She’s always been taught that doing the right thing was its own reward, that she shouldn’t expect to be praised for it all the time. Yet, she was also taught that the right thing wasn’t easy for everyone else, that she ought to show understanding and compassion for those who didn’t live up to the standard that she set for herself. It was a strange contradiction, one that she’d never bothered to examine too closely. She supposed it surprises her that in actuality he’s the one less willing to compromise his morals than she is. Which makes her think…  But you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I be any different? “You want to know the part that I’m most ashamed of?” she asks quietly. “It’s the fact that I thought of myself as the exception. That it didn’t matter if he thought that way about other people as long as he didn’t think it about me. That’s…that’s not who I am. That’s not who I want to be.” She takes a deep breath, before admitting, “I should’ve ended our friendship a long time ago, I know that. But knowing that it was a long time coming doesn’t make it any easier, you know?”

She almost laughs. “Please. I’m not some saint. I get angry, same as anyone else. And the hatred and prejudice do get to me sometimes. But at the end of the day, I don’t want to let someone else’s actions dictate the person I am. I can’t choose how people treat me, but I can choose how I respond to it. And I don’t want anyone else to have that kind of power of me.” Her eyes soften and she returns his small smile. “No one’s perfect, James. It’s like you said, all we can do is do our best. I hold you to a higher standard than I do other people. I’m sorry about that. I don’t know why that is. Maybe it’s because I see who you are when you’re at your best. The kind of friend you are, the way you stand up against the blood purists. But that’s not exactly fair to you, is it? I’ll try to be better about it from now on,” she promises. 

Before she’s even made her point about Sirius, James’ mouth is open, ready to come to his best friend’s defense whole-heartedly. Sirius is the bravest person he’s ever met, he’s had to make the hardest choices just to be good, and he won’t ever let anyone tell him otherwise, not even Lily. But because this is her, and because she seems to be willing to listen to him, he listens before answering (a very rare occurrence, if you ask anyone who’s ever met him). He huffs; of course he loves Sirius. But then he frowns, because Sirius would never, and Lily predicts this reaction too, so he decides to just stop reacting and start listening to what she’s trying to say. She’s too smart for him, this conversation feels like like a constant challenge, one where she matches him every step of the way, and he doesn’t know if he likes it, but that may simply be because he’s so used to having the last word.

And obviously she’s so smart she finds the one way to put things that shows him just how exactly it must feel, and maybe explains why she seems to be arguing and arguing for the worth of someone he’s never seen as anything other than despicable. “Are you saying Snape is your Sirius? Because I’m sorry for you, in that case,” he answers, but his tone is light, almost joking. He still wants to argue that it’s not the same; but something about their fragile dynamic makes him hesitate. “I understand, I do. I do,” he repeats, maybe trying to convince himself more than her. “I can see why you might be the one person, against all common sense, who’ll always find an excuse for his behavior. And I won’t push you, not because I agree with you, but because I think this might a case of let’s agree to disagree - which I’m definitely not used to, in case you didn’t know. But I still don’t think Sirius and Snape are comparable in any way. Because Sni-Snape was always that way, whether or not you could see it. I can’t begin to imagine what you must have felt when he called you that word. But you and I both know he’d been doing it to others long before. And so the betrayal isn’t so chocking if the guy you’ve always liked, or Merlin forbid, loved, was always a twat,” he says looking down at his hands, which he still doesn’t know what to do with. “Maybe there’s a part of me that’s angry at you, too, for being friends with him,” he adds while his voice lowers, almost shyly. “Maybe I hold you to a higher standard, but I feel like I wouldn’t forgive anyone if they were friends with a guy like that. Because it means you’re complicit in his bullshit, if you’re letting him say those things. Doesn’t it?” he looks up at her, hopefully, almost hoping she’ll prove him wrong because he doesn’t like the conclusions he’s coming to. 

He doesn’t know what is it that makes him do it - doesn’t know if there’s a single thought going through his mind, or just his body acting on pure instinct, fully expecting to receive a hex in response. But in that moment he grabs her hand, lightly, and looks straight into her eyes. “Hey, don’t. I won’t spend a minute listening to you find a way to twist his prejudice as somehow being your fault. Or as somehow making you a bad person too. No way, no. You’re human, Evans, oh no, big reveal! You’re human and you cared about someone and he treated you alright for a while, until he didn’t. That’s all there is to it, now as hard as it is, all you’ve got to do is stop making excuses.” Also, I don’t blame you for thinking that; you are pretty dang special indeed, he thinks to himself, barely catching the words in his throat before they make it out.

Feeling drained and more vulnerable he ever has or ever wants to feel again, James leans back into his chair, dropping her hand back on the table, and tries to smile along with her. “That you do - I have bruises to attest to that,” he says with a grin. With a joking frown, he decides that this nonchalant, humorous territory feels much safer than the road they were headed down with this conversation. “I mean, are you sure? According to you, I sound pretty ‘perfect’ indeed. What was it you called me again? ‘Gryffindor’s golden boy,’ ‘talented,’ ‘loved’? Oh, and I forgot the best one-- handsome, was it?” he answers with glee. “Sounds like I might be worth those higher standards after all. So don’t worry about that one bit, I’ll just have to try and live up to them” he finishes, extending his arm over the chair next to him. @lilyxcvans​

“Yeah, definitely Gryffindor girls.” Shaking his head and laughing softly, Benjy took another drink before falling into easy conversation with Sirius, both offering up circumstances in which coming out here would make an acceptable date then proceeding to create a list of girls that they felt would actually be up for it. It felt natural being out here with the two of them, and the Ravenclaw was thankful for a moment that it was just the three of them -he didn’t know if he would have been so comfortable with Remus and Peter here also. They were cool guys and they got on well enough, but the group were such tight mates it may have felt awkward to be the fifth wheel.

All of their chatter came to a stop though the moment Benjy caught sight of the way James gazed off into the trees, only causing him to do the same. Almost instantly he heard the noise and despite the way James smiled and called out, Benjy’s hand still instinctively moved to his hip, hovering over the pocket with his wand -ready to draw at any moment. But what, or well, who emerged from the forest took the wizard entirely by surprise. Who would have thought that this was how the night was to turn out? Benjy almost couldn’t believe it, he shouldn’t have underestimated James and the guys and put them in the same box as everyone else. They were next level. Collecting himself and brushing his hands on his knees, palms sweating just a little, Benjy finally met the eyes of the Centaur and introduced himself. “Alright? I’m Benjy. Great to meet you -” He thought a moment before adding “Sorry about the herd stuff, gotta be rough.” Glancing over at James, Benjy felt his eyes widen and his smirk pull up at the side, giving the other wizard a humors ‘what the hell’ sort of look.

@potterstagger​

James leaned back and grinned at Benjy’s initial discomfort, while also being quite impressed by how adaptable the lad seemed to be. Not everyone would have gotten over their initial shock that quickly and settled back into the conversation so easily. There definitely seemed to be more to the Ravenclaw than he’d previously thought. He sent his smirk right back to him as the four of them settled into superficial conversation, for which James was happy to take a step back. He was rarely the quiet one of any group or situation, but something about the night sky and the beer in his hand made him want to sit back and relax while letting his friends get on with the evening. And if his thoughts drifted back to girls, and what it’d be like to take one particular girl to his little spot, well no one needed to know. 

After a while, he realized Benjy had also stopped talking with the two others and seemed to have aimed a question his way. “What? Sorry, mate, was in my thoughts for a minute.” Turning his body a bit more towards the older boy, he continued in a smaller voice, “We met Firenze while in detention one day, while we were in the forest. He was sitting alone and for some reason, we thought it’d be a great idea to talk to him and see what the deal with Centaurs was. We were like, thirteen. Turns out he’s ace, although I can’t speak for all Centaurs. From what he’s saying, they’re actually really reclusive, and don’t care for people. He’s different though, feels a bit stifled around them.” He shrugged, thinking through his next words. “Which I can understand, you know, it must be hard to be so confined and discouraged from ever branching out from the world you know.” He nodded towards Padfoot. “I guess Sirius of all people seemed to really take to what he was saying that day. So we’ve been coming over here sometimes, having a bit of a chat, tryna make sure Firenze gets to experience somethin’ different,” he finished looking down, slightly embarrassed at his tone. He could hear the affection he had for his friend reveal itself, so he grabbed the rest of his bottle of beer and downed it, trying to diffuse his own discomfort. @thatkidbenjy​