FIC: Black Hole (James/Bellatrix)
The reveal is now up at rarepair_shorts, so I'm going to post this thing everywhere! :P (Sorry in advance for spamming your f-lists.)
Title: Black Hole
Pairing: James/Bellatrix, with a side of James/Lily
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2517
Summary: After several months, James was able to piece together Sirius’s story. 'Unfair' did not even begin to cover it.
Author's Notes: Thank you to my lovely beta, peskywhistpaw. This is slightly AU; Bella and James are actually nine years apart in age, but for the purposes of this fic I've made Bella a seventh-year whilst James is a first-year. Written for absolutelybatty for rarepair_shorts's Winter 2008 Fic Exchange. Cross-posted here.
At the mention of 'family,' Sirius stiffened. The laughter went out in his eyes. His hair appeared to grow darker. His breath was quick, sharp, and shallow.
"I don't talk about them."
James wrinkled his eyebrows. He'd only been trying to get to know his new friend. Inquiring about family was simply small talk - never did James imagine that anyone, especially Sirius, would find the question offensive.
"Er, okay. So... which House d'you hope to get Sorted into? Gryffindor sounds the best, I think - and my mum and dad were both in it way back in their day. My dad likes to joke that he'll toss me out if I get in any of the others."
He paused, trying to gauge Sirius's reaction. If for some reason Sirius found this question unsuitable, James would eat his spellbook.
Sirius looked out the window. "Yeah. S'long as it's not Slytherin," he spat bitterly.
Out of the corner of his eye, James noticed his spellbook twitch, and ignoring it, turned to Sirius. "S'matter with you?"
No reply came.
"How'm I s'posed to get to know you if you're going to be such a moody twat?" James asked, annoyed. "Do I have to go find some Hufflepuffs to have a friendly conversation?"
At that, Sirius cracked a small smile. "Sorry, mate. It's just... if there're two things I can't stand, it's family and Slytherins."
"Oh." James sobered, finding the answer within reason. "Well, why?"
"I don't talk about them," Sirius merely repeated. "And I'd like to keep it that way."
* * *
The subject never returned to family - at least, not for a long time. Nuggets of information revealed themselves, however, in the most subtle of ways. When James and Sirius found themselves in detention repeatedly, Sirius muttered things like, "My parents will be pleased to hear I've found a home in a dungeon." Or when the Gryffindors had flattened the Slytherins in Quidditch, he'd said, "Sirius Black: 1. The rest of the family: 0."
James filed away every little snide comment in the back of his mind, yet not so far back that he could not recall them easily. Knowing these things somehow seemed crucial. He wasn't quite sure why on earth he'd need to know that Andromeda was the only family member Sirius got along with, or that Sirius had a mad old house elf named Kreacher - but it seemed to James that a friend, a best friend, should be the kind of person to memorize such details.
It was almost an obsession. Or perhaps he had to be obsessed, because Sirius revealed so little about himself, and also because boys were certainly not the kind to sit down and have a serious talk.
Oh yes, Sirius was a very charming, warm, and playful young man - but for all his charm, warmth, and playfulness, he managed to remain distant. Thus, James treasured whatever knowledge he could extract, useless or no.
* * *
After several months, James was able to piece together Sirius's story. 'Unfair' did not even begin to cover it.
James felt it within his duty as best friend to do something. He did not suppose that he could march up to Number 12, Grimmauld Place (he'd only caught the address a week ago) and demand that Mr. and Mrs. Black treat their eldest with a little more respect. There was nothing he could do, James knew, that would change anyone's mind - blood purist ideas were stubborn and could not be erased with even the hugest effort. But perhaps there was something that would make Sirius's life more tolerable.
That's how James came up with the idea for the Marauders.
They pulled pranks, fooled their teachers, embarrassed their peers - all in good fun. Everyone was nice about it. Everyone laughed away James's and Sirius's jokes and hailed them 'the funniest blokes ever.' Remus and Peter, two other Gryffindor boys in their year, eventually joined up as well, and they all came to be close friends. It proved to be a great distraction for Sirius, and he was a happier lad for it.
But there still were moments when silly jokes were not enough to heal the anger. Moments when Sirius was unable to avoid his cousins' taunts.
Narcissa wouldn't go out of her way to harass Sirius - she had better things to do, after all - but never failed to pass up an opportunity if one arose. Bellatrix, however - who was a seventh-year Slytherin - was an agent of the Devil. She would look for Sirius, constantly challenging him to duels and hexing him simply because 'she needed to practice.' Merciless was not an adequate word to describe her - ruthless would be closer to the mark.
Sirius had little fight in him left to ward her off, and James couldn't blame him. He'd be tired of yelling, too, after eleven years. So it was up to James to eliminate the Bellatrix Problem.
But Bellatrix was not the kind of person one would tell jokes to. No, in this case, James realized he would need his wand. And a lot of practice.
* * *
During free periods, James would wait around a corner of some corridor, or behind a pillar in the Great Hall, hoping to catch sight of Bellatrix. On occasion he would hear others mutter her name darkly, usually along with a few, well chosen curse words - but never anything useful.
He wasn't sure what he'd do if he did see her. He'd been practicing a few hexes and had managed to learn some more advanced spells, but Bellatrix was a seventh-year. The girl would be quicker and stronger, as well as a master at wordlessly effecting spells.
And what was the use of a confrontation? It would solve nothing. Bellatrix had no reason to listen to him, a first-year Gryffindor she didn't know, who happened to be best friends with her despised, blood-traitor cousin. She had no reason to listen to anyone, really.
Even though it was a waste of time to try to find her, James tried anyway - because it was his duty, he thought, as best friend. Moral support, and all that.
* * *
Finally, he saw her.
It was funny, because after a while of looking for her, he'd realized he didn't know what she looked like - another reason why the whole thing was fruitless to begin with. He had no expectations, either, for he knew that evil came in a great many forms.
The thing was, James had been so adept at remembering little tidbits about Sirius that the skill had actually become useful during his watch. He hadn't consciously noticed that the number of dark mutterings had begun to grow, until one night, as he lay in his bed unable to sleep, the memories of them flooded his mind suddenly. Indeed, he'd learned a little more about Bellatrix once he'd sorted out the thoughts; from these ideas, a picture of her grew in his mind. Perhaps the picture wouldn't be accurate, but James suspected that he'd be able to identify her regardless. His gut would tell him where to look.
That was exactly how he managed to spot her. From behind, he'd seen a tall girl with long dark hair and a slender yet sturdy frame, and figured it was Bellatrix - but when she turned around, and noticed her jaw set, her heavy-lidded eyes, her high cheekbones, he inexplicably knew. It made sense; evil could be a terrible, great beauty - it would be a perfect guise. And Bellatrix had the perfect guise.
James couldn't help but let his jaw drop. Sure, she was evil and pretty awful to Sirius - but Merlin, was she beautiful. It was difficult for him to feel angry and repulsed, though he knew he was supposed to feel that way. Because of what she'd done to Sirius.
* * *
"Black," he called, leaping from behind the pillar. There was no point in making plans, since he couldn't predict what she'd do or say. And besides, wasn't he the kind of person that made everything up as he went along?
Bellatrix turned around, looking for who had called her. Three of her friends stood behind her, one female and two male.
James gulped. He sincerely hoped it wouldn't come down to wands.
"What?" Bellatrix said flatly, yet the word came with an edge. "Who're you?"
"Potter," he responded smoothly, trying to act suave. A show of self-confidence couldn't hurt when talking to a seventh-year girl, James reasoned. "You're Sirius's cousin, aren't you?"
She said nothing at first. Her eyes scanned James's figure disinterestedly. "I don't waste time with little boys." Rounding up her friends, she began to climb up the stairs.
No! She couldn't leave yet, he'd hardly just got her attention. In a panic, James blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. "I've heard a lot about you, Black."
It worked. Bellatrix paused mid-step, pivoting to look at James incredulously.
"Lots of things," James added nervously. "Nasty things."
She walked down the stairs, abandoning her friends, and approached him until they stood almost nose-to-nose - or rather, head-to-chest, for Bellatrix was much taller. It was all James could do to force himself to look up at her.
"Is that so, Potter?"
He nodded slowly.
"Well, I suppose you've heard, then, what my specialty is."
"Your... specialty?"
She leaned in, her lips right next to his ear. Goosebumps rose on his arm. "The Cruciatus Curse," she whispered. "I could take the life right out of you."
The girl moved away from him and returned to her friends, smiling fiendishly all the while. "Almost like a Dementor's Kiss. Bet you'd like a kiss, wouldn't you, Potter?"
Maniacal laughter reverberated against the chamber walls. James remained dumbstruck. Yes, he would... but he wanted to hurt her, too.
"Expelliarmus!"
There was a momentarily look of shock on Bellatrix's face before she countered wordlessly, throwing James flat on his back against the floor. "Expelliarmus? That's a bit advanced for your age. I'm... mildly impressed."
James felt his body twitch, and everything ached, but she'd paid him a compliment. A seventh-year had paid him a compliment. A seventh-year girl had paid him a compliment. A seventh-year, beautiful, Slytherin girl had...
"Has a bit of an ego, however," she added, noticing a certain bulge in a certain part of James’s body. She smirked. "Such a little boy..."
As she left, for good that time, James pondered her character. She was just another cruel soul, selling herself to the Dark Arts. He hated her, yet still she fascinated him.
One look at her was one look at a black hole. Beauty and wonder had reeled him in, and now he was in so far that light could not reach his eyes. He could not climb out, even if it was his greatest desire.
* * *
For too long, he thought of her - long after she'd left Hogwarts. They'd only spoken that once, but it had been enough to cause lustful dreams and nightmares.
James wasn't completely gone. He was able to feel guilty that he'd failed to damage Bellatrix on behalf of his best friend, Sirius. He felt traitorous for even imagining her in his dreams. Best friends did not feel anything other than extreme hate for each other's enemies.
Later, after James himself had left Hogwarts, when Bellatrix paid him a surprise visit, he nearly lost his mind.
She'd asked him to join the Dark Lord. James had potential, she said, he had a brilliant mind. He would be of great use.
He nearly said yes.
It was a good thing he'd had Lily then, to pull him out. Her love was the only force strong enough to combat the black hole.
* * *
Together, James and Lily had defied the Dark Lord a second time. The third time, though, they were approached separately.
He wondered which Death Eater Lily was facing, which Death Eater she might have had a connection to. Because the only one he knew, if he could say that he knew her, was Bellatrix. And of course, here she was before him.
Closing his eyes, he tried to keep his thoughts on Lily, sending wishes of luck and love her way. A spell caught him in the stomach at that moment, and he fell to the ground. Writhing. Squirming. Twisting.
In pain.
Bellatrix's cruel, hollow laughter rose up in the air around him. "Get up, Potter. Be a man. Show me where your skill is - or did you waste away your years at Hogwarts playing silly tricks?"
The curse lifted, and James jumped up at once. He wobbled a little to his left and took a few steps to steady himself. "Tricks, eh? And what were you doing? Ah, that's right - 'practising your techniques.'"
Again the Cruciatus Curse found its mark. "Clearly," Bellatrix said, sneering at James as he struggled, "I spent my time more wisely. Where's the defense, Potter?"
James stood up after a while, his wand pointed at Bellatrix's throat. "Too bad I've only offense," he snarled. There was a loud bang and a burst of red sparks, and suddenly Bellatrix found herself flying backwards. Her head hit the ground with a dull thud. She was out, but only momentarily.
He wouldn't be able to kill her. Firstly, one didn't strike when one's opponent was turned, or down. That was a sign of cowardice. Secondly, James had never fully recovered from his first encounter with her. It was foolish, but he supposed he wasn't to blame. Perhaps that was a major part of Bellatrix's power - and anyone, even a great wizard, could fall under that spell.
The only smart thing left to do was to leave her there, and go into hiding. That would not be cowardly, for he was going home to his family, who needed him. Facing the Death Eaters three times and managing to get away was actually a tremendous feat.
Lily, he thought as he spun to Apparate, I hope you're okay.
Somehow, James knew this time would be the last time he'd face the black hole and survive. Because next time, Voldemort would pay him a personal visit. Next time, he'd die.
But that was okay. He'd had a good life. He had been a good husband to Lily. He knew he'd be a good father once the baby was born. The fatherly love was already flowing inside of him.
James felt his heart flutter, and he smiled. He'd been a good friend, too. A good best friend. He'd finally fulfilled his promise to Sirius.
* * *
At the mention of 'family,' Sirius stiffened. The laughter went out in his eyes, and quiet sorrow took its place.
He inhaled deeply. "Family," he paused, waving at the walls of Number 12, Grimmauld Place, "has nothing to do with blood ties, Harry. I thought you knew that."
Both stood in silence for a moment before Sirius continued, "I don't talk about them. The only family that mattered was..."
Again, Sirius stopped. It was all he could do to keep his composure.
"Was who?" Harry prompted.
"Your father, Harry. Your father was one of the few people I gave a damn about."
Title: Black Hole
Pairing: James/Bellatrix, with a side of James/Lily
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2517
Summary: After several months, James was able to piece together Sirius’s story. 'Unfair' did not even begin to cover it.
Author's Notes: Thank you to my lovely beta, peskywhistpaw. This is slightly AU; Bella and James are actually nine years apart in age, but for the purposes of this fic I've made Bella a seventh-year whilst James is a first-year. Written for absolutelybatty for rarepair_shorts's Winter 2008 Fic Exchange. Cross-posted here.
At the mention of 'family,' Sirius stiffened. The laughter went out in his eyes. His hair appeared to grow darker. His breath was quick, sharp, and shallow.
"I don't talk about them."
James wrinkled his eyebrows. He'd only been trying to get to know his new friend. Inquiring about family was simply small talk - never did James imagine that anyone, especially Sirius, would find the question offensive.
"Er, okay. So... which House d'you hope to get Sorted into? Gryffindor sounds the best, I think - and my mum and dad were both in it way back in their day. My dad likes to joke that he'll toss me out if I get in any of the others."
He paused, trying to gauge Sirius's reaction. If for some reason Sirius found this question unsuitable, James would eat his spellbook.
Sirius looked out the window. "Yeah. S'long as it's not Slytherin," he spat bitterly.
Out of the corner of his eye, James noticed his spellbook twitch, and ignoring it, turned to Sirius. "S'matter with you?"
No reply came.
"How'm I s'posed to get to know you if you're going to be such a moody twat?" James asked, annoyed. "Do I have to go find some Hufflepuffs to have a friendly conversation?"
At that, Sirius cracked a small smile. "Sorry, mate. It's just... if there're two things I can't stand, it's family and Slytherins."
"Oh." James sobered, finding the answer within reason. "Well, why?"
"I don't talk about them," Sirius merely repeated. "And I'd like to keep it that way."
* * *
The subject never returned to family - at least, not for a long time. Nuggets of information revealed themselves, however, in the most subtle of ways. When James and Sirius found themselves in detention repeatedly, Sirius muttered things like, "My parents will be pleased to hear I've found a home in a dungeon." Or when the Gryffindors had flattened the Slytherins in Quidditch, he'd said, "Sirius Black: 1. The rest of the family: 0."
James filed away every little snide comment in the back of his mind, yet not so far back that he could not recall them easily. Knowing these things somehow seemed crucial. He wasn't quite sure why on earth he'd need to know that Andromeda was the only family member Sirius got along with, or that Sirius had a mad old house elf named Kreacher - but it seemed to James that a friend, a best friend, should be the kind of person to memorize such details.
It was almost an obsession. Or perhaps he had to be obsessed, because Sirius revealed so little about himself, and also because boys were certainly not the kind to sit down and have a serious talk.
Oh yes, Sirius was a very charming, warm, and playful young man - but for all his charm, warmth, and playfulness, he managed to remain distant. Thus, James treasured whatever knowledge he could extract, useless or no.
* * *
After several months, James was able to piece together Sirius's story. 'Unfair' did not even begin to cover it.
James felt it within his duty as best friend to do something. He did not suppose that he could march up to Number 12, Grimmauld Place (he'd only caught the address a week ago) and demand that Mr. and Mrs. Black treat their eldest with a little more respect. There was nothing he could do, James knew, that would change anyone's mind - blood purist ideas were stubborn and could not be erased with even the hugest effort. But perhaps there was something that would make Sirius's life more tolerable.
That's how James came up with the idea for the Marauders.
They pulled pranks, fooled their teachers, embarrassed their peers - all in good fun. Everyone was nice about it. Everyone laughed away James's and Sirius's jokes and hailed them 'the funniest blokes ever.' Remus and Peter, two other Gryffindor boys in their year, eventually joined up as well, and they all came to be close friends. It proved to be a great distraction for Sirius, and he was a happier lad for it.
But there still were moments when silly jokes were not enough to heal the anger. Moments when Sirius was unable to avoid his cousins' taunts.
Narcissa wouldn't go out of her way to harass Sirius - she had better things to do, after all - but never failed to pass up an opportunity if one arose. Bellatrix, however - who was a seventh-year Slytherin - was an agent of the Devil. She would look for Sirius, constantly challenging him to duels and hexing him simply because 'she needed to practice.' Merciless was not an adequate word to describe her - ruthless would be closer to the mark.
Sirius had little fight in him left to ward her off, and James couldn't blame him. He'd be tired of yelling, too, after eleven years. So it was up to James to eliminate the Bellatrix Problem.
But Bellatrix was not the kind of person one would tell jokes to. No, in this case, James realized he would need his wand. And a lot of practice.
* * *
During free periods, James would wait around a corner of some corridor, or behind a pillar in the Great Hall, hoping to catch sight of Bellatrix. On occasion he would hear others mutter her name darkly, usually along with a few, well chosen curse words - but never anything useful.
He wasn't sure what he'd do if he did see her. He'd been practicing a few hexes and had managed to learn some more advanced spells, but Bellatrix was a seventh-year. The girl would be quicker and stronger, as well as a master at wordlessly effecting spells.
And what was the use of a confrontation? It would solve nothing. Bellatrix had no reason to listen to him, a first-year Gryffindor she didn't know, who happened to be best friends with her despised, blood-traitor cousin. She had no reason to listen to anyone, really.
Even though it was a waste of time to try to find her, James tried anyway - because it was his duty, he thought, as best friend. Moral support, and all that.
* * *
Finally, he saw her.
It was funny, because after a while of looking for her, he'd realized he didn't know what she looked like - another reason why the whole thing was fruitless to begin with. He had no expectations, either, for he knew that evil came in a great many forms.
The thing was, James had been so adept at remembering little tidbits about Sirius that the skill had actually become useful during his watch. He hadn't consciously noticed that the number of dark mutterings had begun to grow, until one night, as he lay in his bed unable to sleep, the memories of them flooded his mind suddenly. Indeed, he'd learned a little more about Bellatrix once he'd sorted out the thoughts; from these ideas, a picture of her grew in his mind. Perhaps the picture wouldn't be accurate, but James suspected that he'd be able to identify her regardless. His gut would tell him where to look.
That was exactly how he managed to spot her. From behind, he'd seen a tall girl with long dark hair and a slender yet sturdy frame, and figured it was Bellatrix - but when she turned around, and noticed her jaw set, her heavy-lidded eyes, her high cheekbones, he inexplicably knew. It made sense; evil could be a terrible, great beauty - it would be a perfect guise. And Bellatrix had the perfect guise.
James couldn't help but let his jaw drop. Sure, she was evil and pretty awful to Sirius - but Merlin, was she beautiful. It was difficult for him to feel angry and repulsed, though he knew he was supposed to feel that way. Because of what she'd done to Sirius.
* * *
"Black," he called, leaping from behind the pillar. There was no point in making plans, since he couldn't predict what she'd do or say. And besides, wasn't he the kind of person that made everything up as he went along?
Bellatrix turned around, looking for who had called her. Three of her friends stood behind her, one female and two male.
James gulped. He sincerely hoped it wouldn't come down to wands.
"What?" Bellatrix said flatly, yet the word came with an edge. "Who're you?"
"Potter," he responded smoothly, trying to act suave. A show of self-confidence couldn't hurt when talking to a seventh-year girl, James reasoned. "You're Sirius's cousin, aren't you?"
She said nothing at first. Her eyes scanned James's figure disinterestedly. "I don't waste time with little boys." Rounding up her friends, she began to climb up the stairs.
No! She couldn't leave yet, he'd hardly just got her attention. In a panic, James blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. "I've heard a lot about you, Black."
It worked. Bellatrix paused mid-step, pivoting to look at James incredulously.
"Lots of things," James added nervously. "Nasty things."
She walked down the stairs, abandoning her friends, and approached him until they stood almost nose-to-nose - or rather, head-to-chest, for Bellatrix was much taller. It was all James could do to force himself to look up at her.
"Is that so, Potter?"
He nodded slowly.
"Well, I suppose you've heard, then, what my specialty is."
"Your... specialty?"
She leaned in, her lips right next to his ear. Goosebumps rose on his arm. "The Cruciatus Curse," she whispered. "I could take the life right out of you."
The girl moved away from him and returned to her friends, smiling fiendishly all the while. "Almost like a Dementor's Kiss. Bet you'd like a kiss, wouldn't you, Potter?"
Maniacal laughter reverberated against the chamber walls. James remained dumbstruck. Yes, he would... but he wanted to hurt her, too.
"Expelliarmus!"
There was a momentarily look of shock on Bellatrix's face before she countered wordlessly, throwing James flat on his back against the floor. "Expelliarmus? That's a bit advanced for your age. I'm... mildly impressed."
James felt his body twitch, and everything ached, but she'd paid him a compliment. A seventh-year had paid him a compliment. A seventh-year girl had paid him a compliment. A seventh-year, beautiful, Slytherin girl had...
"Has a bit of an ego, however," she added, noticing a certain bulge in a certain part of James’s body. She smirked. "Such a little boy..."
As she left, for good that time, James pondered her character. She was just another cruel soul, selling herself to the Dark Arts. He hated her, yet still she fascinated him.
One look at her was one look at a black hole. Beauty and wonder had reeled him in, and now he was in so far that light could not reach his eyes. He could not climb out, even if it was his greatest desire.
* * *
For too long, he thought of her - long after she'd left Hogwarts. They'd only spoken that once, but it had been enough to cause lustful dreams and nightmares.
James wasn't completely gone. He was able to feel guilty that he'd failed to damage Bellatrix on behalf of his best friend, Sirius. He felt traitorous for even imagining her in his dreams. Best friends did not feel anything other than extreme hate for each other's enemies.
Later, after James himself had left Hogwarts, when Bellatrix paid him a surprise visit, he nearly lost his mind.
She'd asked him to join the Dark Lord. James had potential, she said, he had a brilliant mind. He would be of great use.
He nearly said yes.
It was a good thing he'd had Lily then, to pull him out. Her love was the only force strong enough to combat the black hole.
* * *
Together, James and Lily had defied the Dark Lord a second time. The third time, though, they were approached separately.
He wondered which Death Eater Lily was facing, which Death Eater she might have had a connection to. Because the only one he knew, if he could say that he knew her, was Bellatrix. And of course, here she was before him.
Closing his eyes, he tried to keep his thoughts on Lily, sending wishes of luck and love her way. A spell caught him in the stomach at that moment, and he fell to the ground. Writhing. Squirming. Twisting.
In pain.
Bellatrix's cruel, hollow laughter rose up in the air around him. "Get up, Potter. Be a man. Show me where your skill is - or did you waste away your years at Hogwarts playing silly tricks?"
The curse lifted, and James jumped up at once. He wobbled a little to his left and took a few steps to steady himself. "Tricks, eh? And what were you doing? Ah, that's right - 'practising your techniques.'"
Again the Cruciatus Curse found its mark. "Clearly," Bellatrix said, sneering at James as he struggled, "I spent my time more wisely. Where's the defense, Potter?"
James stood up after a while, his wand pointed at Bellatrix's throat. "Too bad I've only offense," he snarled. There was a loud bang and a burst of red sparks, and suddenly Bellatrix found herself flying backwards. Her head hit the ground with a dull thud. She was out, but only momentarily.
He wouldn't be able to kill her. Firstly, one didn't strike when one's opponent was turned, or down. That was a sign of cowardice. Secondly, James had never fully recovered from his first encounter with her. It was foolish, but he supposed he wasn't to blame. Perhaps that was a major part of Bellatrix's power - and anyone, even a great wizard, could fall under that spell.
The only smart thing left to do was to leave her there, and go into hiding. That would not be cowardly, for he was going home to his family, who needed him. Facing the Death Eaters three times and managing to get away was actually a tremendous feat.
Lily, he thought as he spun to Apparate, I hope you're okay.
Somehow, James knew this time would be the last time he'd face the black hole and survive. Because next time, Voldemort would pay him a personal visit. Next time, he'd die.
But that was okay. He'd had a good life. He had been a good husband to Lily. He knew he'd be a good father once the baby was born. The fatherly love was already flowing inside of him.
James felt his heart flutter, and he smiled. He'd been a good friend, too. A good best friend. He'd finally fulfilled his promise to Sirius.
* * *
At the mention of 'family,' Sirius stiffened. The laughter went out in his eyes, and quiet sorrow took its place.
He inhaled deeply. "Family," he paused, waving at the walls of Number 12, Grimmauld Place, "has nothing to do with blood ties, Harry. I thought you knew that."
Both stood in silence for a moment before Sirius continued, "I don't talk about them. The only family that mattered was..."
Again, Sirius stopped. It was all he could do to keep his composure.
"Was who?" Harry prompted.
"Your father, Harry. Your father was one of the few people I gave a damn about."