"Where else would I be, Pads." There was a form on the bed, a comfortable lump; James. He was lying on his stomach, a newspaper in his hand. Slowly but surely he was trying to get caught up on all he'd missed, which was why the newspaper was several years old. He'd gotten it from the library, which is where he'd been when he'd gotten the owl.
"Alright there, Padfoot? What's this surprise then?" Sirius sounded good. Familiar in a way that James hadn't automatically thought of since he'd found himself in the new Hogwarts - the future Hogwarts.
He crawled on all fours to a panel and peered out the bed. "Wha-" James stared, his voice dropping into silence. He was staring at Padfoot. His Padfoot.
The Owl had been Sirius' - handwriting and signature. And no one could have walked into the room so easily unless they knew the wards and the password on the door. He was expecting Sirius. And this was Sirius.
"What did you do?" James found his voice, as his wand slipped into his hand, a vague flicker of a thought about Voldemort and his solid intention not to leave his own dead body for Padfoot to find again - collided with thoughts on what possible potion could have done this. Because it had to be a potion, charms were too unpredictable for illusions like this.
Sirius didn't say anything at first. Instead, eyes cast downward, he waited for James to have a look for himself. And really, he didn't know what to say. Things like "Hey Prongs, look, I'm your age now!" seemed completely trite and ridiculous. And Sirius still felt kind of strange.
But at James's question, he raised his eyes so they were looking straight into James's. And for the first time in twenty years, he saw recognition in them. Real recognition. It was just a flash, a brief glimmer before worry took over, but it was there. Sirius cleared his throat and then said in a voice that sounded surprisingly confident, "I took a potion. For you." As he said it, a strange burst of energy shot through his head, and he blinked a couple of times and then smiled tentatively.
Not really knowing what else to do or exactly what James thought yet, he stood awkwardly in front of the closed door, hoping that James wasn't upset, that he liked it, that this would fix things between them.
James put down his wand. He could manage wandless magic, but he knew Sirius would know what that meant. And putting down the wand was the last thing he really remembered and then the door was somewhere very, very, close.
James Potter had his arms somewhere around Sirius and his nose buried somewhere between collar bone and neck. "Missed you. Thank you. You... bloody hell s'good to see you mate."
His arms squeezed as if they were never, ever letting go. It'd only been weeks, he could still count the time in weeks, and yet it'd felt like it'd been forever since he'd seen that face; heard just that voice; seen that smile.
They were pressed against the door to the room and James didn't care. He blinked quite a few times, feeling something behind his eyes. But he didn't want to be quite so nancy as to cry. And yet...
"Pads." Here. Safe. Normal. Half the lost, crazed intensity gone from his eyes and all the signs James couldn't help noting; of Azkhaban and life on the run; a hard life.
It was such a little thing, comparatively. All the history was still there. But it meant so much. He couldn't even hug Sirius at his older age like this. The man was a little taller and harder and leaner and nothing fit the way his body remembered.
James knew he should ask questions; how long did the potion last? What were the side effects? Had Sirius really thought this all through. But instead he tilted his head back a bit, hazel eyes soft and warm and focused on one of the most important people in his life. One of the few he loved.
The old phrase had relaxed Sirius, made him feel more like the person whose face he was now wearing, the person he was before a war and betrayal and death and memories changed everything.
And then James was running at him, empty handed - and for the briefest moment, it occurred to Sirius that James hadn't allowed his wand to be far out of reach for any of the time since he had returned to Hogwarts.
One small piece of normal slid back into place.
And then Sirius stopped thinking about it, because James's arms were around him, pressing him to the door, hair just under his nose, smelling like hay and soap and James.
Carefully, and then more assuredly, Sirius embraced James back, one hand behind his head and the other lower on his back. He buried his face into James's hair and closed his eyes.
Time was doing all sorts of strange things today, because for a moment, Sirius could swear that it had stopped.
"Prongs. I missed you, too," Sirius whispered. He was unable to say anything else.
This was the reunion they were supposed to have had. It was quieter than their first one, but this time they were on the same footing, both starved for the one person in the world they missed the most.
For a while, he just stood there, embracing James and trying to remember how to stay standing.
Then, as James lifted his head, Sirius brought his down so that their foreheads were touching. His hand slipped from the back of James's head to his neck. It was the best feeling in the world, seeing James's eyes looking up at him so knowingly.
"You like it, Prongs?" Sirius asked, his voice soft, but unexpectedly clear.
"Like it?" He struggled for stern. "Who? How long? What does it do to you? Are you... you stupid, feckless, wonderful..."
Most boys didn't kiss their best mates. James didn't give a fig about most boys. So bloody what. He kissed his best mate - absolutely. They shared a lot. They were close. What sort of idiotic relationship would they have if they had all those weird sort of boundaries.
And it wasn't as if he wouldn't end up living up to his responsibilities as a wizard and a member of the community. He knew for a fact that he'd gone on to have a wife and son; Responsibilities fulfilled.
The thought didn't last more than two seconds; a jumble of images and brief sensations. It was easier to focus on the shape of Sirius' mouth and lips. To realize that he must have memorized them, because he knew just how it was supposed to feel and it felt exactly like that.
A brush of their mouths, another, a soft suckle of the lower lip, another kiss, and another. When their lips parted, it seemed natural, despite the fact that it wasn't. James sighed, because it was something new. But he couldn't quite pull away yet. And there was the security of knowing if they didn't want to, they didn't have to talk about it, ever.
A wave of panic washed over Sirius as James started to question him. He didn't think he could take it if James were upset, if this whole idea turned out to be a mistake.
And then James's mouth was on his, and it was only natural, only normal, for Sirius to kiss him back, jolts of something - relief, joy, excitement, and maybe a thousand other things - pulsing through his veins, his bones, flashing across his skin.
At first, it was all gentle, still tentative, slow, soft kisses exchanged like questions. Sirius had kissed James before - it was just something they did - but there was something different now, something deeper.
Sirius felt as if he were standing in the ocean, cool water swirling and pulling at his ankles as the undertow dragged him down, beneath the surface. James's lips tugged on his, and he responded by pressing his lips harder against James's. A small breathy sound escaped from his throat, and he opened his mouth slightly, tentatively.
His lips still on James's, he whispered, "Prongs.... What're we doing?"
At some point James had closed his eyes. They opened now, liquid and dreamy as he processed the words he was hearing. And then they widened a moment, briefly. A veil of confusion hung over James' whole face.
Padfoot wasn't moving away and James smiled and kissed him again. This time when his tongue slipped past Sirius' lips, it was in answer. But James sighed and pulled away quickly. He shrugged. "Saying hello, mate?" He gave Sirius a squeeze and started to step back.
"M'just glad to see you." He glanced up at Sirius. "You'll be alright, yeah? This isn't dangerous, Pads?"
Sirius's hand tightened ever so slightly around James's neck, and he opened his mouth wider, letting James in, tips of his fingers reaching into James's hair. This was different, but it was also exhilarating. He hadn't expected such a warm welcome, and it occurred to him that as aware as he had been about James's feelings of loss and confusion, he actually might have underestimated them.
His lips closed around James's as James pulled away, and then Sirius couldn't help but smile. "Well, it's about time you gave me a proper hello. I'm a sight for sore eyes, am I?" His hands slid forward onto James's arms, but he continued to hold on, reluctant to let James move away. "I'm more than all right. I had forgotten what a handsome bloke I was." He grinned down at James, holding his gaze.
Sirius wasn't sure if it was his new body or the way James was reacting to him, but whatever it was, something was making him feel younger, lighter, less put upon.
He was a sight for sore eyes, and sore minds - sore everything. Despite moving back, wondering if Sirius needed space, at the first slight squeeze, tiny hint that Sirius didn't want him moving away, James stayed still.
He smiled, broad, wide and open, looking totally chuffed. "Glad you finally admit you're almost as good looking as I am." He said, casually cuffing Sirius on the hip.
They were still close enough for James to bow his head and have his hair tickle Sirius' chin. And he did so, leaning in unconsciously for the support. But it didn't last long. Turning his hands to grasp Sirius', James tugged.
"There's a perfectly good bed being wasted, pet. Come tell me all about it."
He paused suddenly. "And ring for an elf, would you. I'm bloody starving." And he was. It was like a switched being flicked. He was suddenly aware of his appetite and it felt like he hadn't eaten anything really substantial in days.
Sirius held fast to James's arms, letting his grip loosen only when James pulled back to grasp his hands. He was almost afraid to let go, afraid that the soft ease of the moment would break and shatter. He allowed James to pull him over the bed, his steps feeling longer and lighter than they had been in years.
When he got there, he squeezed James's hands and then released them, throwing himself back on the bed, flat on his back, knees and legs dangling over the edge.
"Ah, mate, this feels so strange!" He pulled out his wand and, after lifting his head to briefly examine his hands again, muttered the name of one of the house-elves. Then he tilted his head head up at James and patted the spot next to him. The wariness was still there, the worry that he might spook James, and so he would continue to be careful - but he definitely felt like something had clicked back into place, and as a result he was a bit more brazen, settling back into their old patterns despite himself.
"So, what do you want to eat, and what do you want to know?"
"Roast beef sandwich. As big as your head." James had flung himself onto the bed, almost before Sirius motioned that he wanted him there. Flat on his stomach, one leg already hooking around Padfoot, smiling as he half pinned his friend, James looked down at Sirius, eyes bright and smiling.
"And you, mate, will tell me everything. The potion; how, when, who. Everything."
And as if to seal it, James crossed a finger over Sirius' neck. And in the wake of the touch, something formed. Supple leather curled into reality - a collar. But the smile in his eyes faded into a flash of vulnerability and worry. James was serious. As good as this seemed, magic like this had a price, he knew it. And he didn't want Sirius to have to pay it. Pads had been through too much already.
The house-elf who appeared was one of Sirius's favourites - a now-elderly male whom Sirius remembered from midnight trips to the kitchen back in his schooldays. He was far better tempered than Kreacher and had always willingly supplied Sirius with nearly anything he had asked for - except alcohol, of course. But that's what Madam Rosmerta had been for, among other things.
Sirius twisted up to look at the house-elf and then gestured at James. "See young master here? He wants a roast beef sandwich, big as my head. But I've got a big head. Think you can make a roast beef sandwich that large? And can you bring us some cakes and sweets and ice cream and maybe a trifle and -" hell, Sirius didn't realise how hungry he himself was until he started thinking about pudding "- and maybe some fruit and a plate of crepes?"
After the house-elf left, disappearing into nothing with a loud crack, Sirius laid back again, idly fingering the collar and looking up at James. "Fuck. I guess I'm bloody starving, too." Shifting under James a bit more, he kicked off his shoes and then let his legs dangle again. He couldn't help but smile. James was happy and relaxed, and it was like old times again.
"The potion is safe, no worries." Well, it was more like the potential risks and side effects were fairly unknown, but Sirius doubted anything too bad could come of it. "It's temporary, of course. And Prongs -" Sirius's smile became a little more hesitant "- I'm still me. I mean, my memories are still here, I'm the same person I was an hour ago. That can't change." He rolled a little to free his other hand and then placed it lightly on James's waist. "But enough about that. This is a present, for you. And when you receive a gift, you don't ask about the price tag. And anyway, you know I come relatively cheap."
He smirked a little and then added, "You really do like it, right?"
"Alright there, Padfoot? What's this surprise then?" Sirius sounded good. Familiar in a way that James hadn't automatically thought of since he'd found himself in the new Hogwarts - the future Hogwarts.
He crawled on all fours to a panel and peered out the bed. "Wha-" James stared, his voice dropping into silence. He was staring at Padfoot. His Padfoot.
The Owl had been Sirius' - handwriting and signature. And no one could have walked into the room so easily unless they knew the wards and the password on the door. He was expecting Sirius. And this was Sirius.
"What did you do?" James found his voice, as his wand slipped into his hand, a vague flicker of a thought about Voldemort and his solid intention not to leave his own dead body for Padfoot to find again - collided with thoughts on what possible potion could have done this. Because it had to be a potion, charms were too unpredictable for illusions like this.
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But at James's question, he raised his eyes so they were looking straight into James's. And for the first time in twenty years, he saw recognition in them. Real recognition. It was just a flash, a brief glimmer before worry took over, but it was there. Sirius cleared his throat and then said in a voice that sounded surprisingly confident, "I took a potion. For you." As he said it, a strange burst of energy shot through his head, and he blinked a couple of times and then smiled tentatively.
Not really knowing what else to do or exactly what James thought yet, he stood awkwardly in front of the closed door, hoping that James wasn't upset, that he liked it, that this would fix things between them.
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"...that I am up to no good."
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Padfoot.
Padsy.
Sirius.
James put down his wand. He could manage wandless magic, but he knew Sirius would know what that meant. And putting down the wand was the last thing he really remembered and then the door was somewhere very, very, close.
James Potter had his arms somewhere around Sirius and his nose buried somewhere between collar bone and neck. "Missed you. Thank you. You... bloody hell s'good to see you mate."
His arms squeezed as if they were never, ever letting go. It'd only been weeks, he could still count the time in weeks, and yet it'd felt like it'd been forever since he'd seen that face; heard just that voice; seen that smile.
They were pressed against the door to the room and James didn't care. He blinked quite a few times, feeling something behind his eyes. But he didn't want to be quite so nancy as to cry. And yet...
"Pads." Here. Safe. Normal. Half the lost, crazed intensity gone from his eyes and all the signs James couldn't help noting; of Azkhaban and life on the run; a hard life.
It was such a little thing, comparatively. All the history was still there. But it meant so much. He couldn't even hug Sirius at his older age like this. The man was a little taller and harder and leaner and nothing fit the way his body remembered.
James knew he should ask questions; how long did the potion last? What were the side effects? Had Sirius really thought this all through. But instead he tilted his head back a bit, hazel eyes soft and warm and focused on one of the most important people in his life. One of the few he loved.
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And then James was running at him, empty handed - and for the briefest moment, it occurred to Sirius that James hadn't allowed his wand to be far out of reach for any of the time since he had returned to Hogwarts.
One small piece of normal slid back into place.
And then Sirius stopped thinking about it, because James's arms were around him, pressing him to the door, hair just under his nose, smelling like hay and soap and James.
Carefully, and then more assuredly, Sirius embraced James back, one hand behind his head and the other lower on his back. He buried his face into James's hair and closed his eyes.
Time was doing all sorts of strange things today, because for a moment, Sirius could swear that it had stopped.
"Prongs. I missed you, too," Sirius whispered. He was unable to say anything else.
This was the reunion they were supposed to have had. It was quieter than their first one, but this time they were on the same footing, both starved for the one person in the world they missed the most.
For a while, he just stood there, embracing James and trying to remember how to stay standing.
Then, as James lifted his head, Sirius brought his down so that their foreheads were touching. His hand slipped from the back of James's head to his neck. It was the best feeling in the world, seeing James's eyes looking up at him so knowingly.
"You like it, Prongs?" Sirius asked, his voice soft, but unexpectedly clear.
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Most boys didn't kiss their best mates. James didn't give a fig about most boys. So bloody what. He kissed his best mate - absolutely. They shared a lot. They were close. What sort of idiotic relationship would they have if they had all those weird sort of boundaries.
And it wasn't as if he wouldn't end up living up to his responsibilities as a wizard and a member of the community. He knew for a fact that he'd gone on to have a wife and son; Responsibilities fulfilled.
The thought didn't last more than two seconds; a jumble of images and brief sensations. It was easier to focus on the shape of Sirius' mouth and lips. To realize that he must have memorized them, because he knew just how it was supposed to feel and it felt exactly like that.
A brush of their mouths, another, a soft suckle of the lower lip, another kiss, and another. When their lips parted, it seemed natural, despite the fact that it wasn't. James sighed, because it was something new. But he couldn't quite pull away yet. And there was the security of knowing if they didn't want to, they didn't have to talk about it, ever.
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And then James's mouth was on his, and it was only natural, only normal, for Sirius to kiss him back, jolts of something - relief, joy, excitement, and maybe a thousand other things - pulsing through his veins, his bones, flashing across his skin.
At first, it was all gentle, still tentative, slow, soft kisses exchanged like questions. Sirius had kissed James before - it was just something they did - but there was something different now, something deeper.
Sirius felt as if he were standing in the ocean, cool water swirling and pulling at his ankles as the undertow dragged him down, beneath the surface. James's lips tugged on his, and he responded by pressing his lips harder against James's. A small breathy sound escaped from his throat, and he opened his mouth slightly, tentatively.
His lips still on James's, he whispered, "Prongs.... What're we doing?"
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Padfoot wasn't moving away and James smiled and kissed him again. This time when his tongue slipped past Sirius' lips, it was in answer. But James sighed and pulled away quickly. He shrugged. "Saying hello, mate?" He gave Sirius a squeeze and started to step back.
"M'just glad to see you." He glanced up at Sirius. "You'll be alright, yeah? This isn't dangerous, Pads?"
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His lips closed around James's as James pulled away, and then Sirius couldn't help but smile. "Well, it's about time you gave me a proper hello. I'm a sight for sore eyes, am I?" His hands slid forward onto James's arms, but he continued to hold on, reluctant to let James move away. "I'm more than all right. I had forgotten what a handsome bloke I was." He grinned down at James, holding his gaze.
Sirius wasn't sure if it was his new body or the way James was reacting to him, but whatever it was, something was making him feel younger, lighter, less put upon.
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He smiled, broad, wide and open, looking totally chuffed. "Glad you finally admit you're almost as good looking as I am." He said, casually cuffing Sirius on the hip.
They were still close enough for James to bow his head and have his hair tickle Sirius' chin. And he did so, leaning in unconsciously for the support. But it didn't last long. Turning his hands to grasp Sirius', James tugged.
"There's a perfectly good bed being wasted, pet. Come tell me all about it."
He paused suddenly. "And ring for an elf, would you. I'm bloody starving." And he was. It was like a switched being flicked. He was suddenly aware of his appetite and it felt like he hadn't eaten anything really substantial in days.
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When he got there, he squeezed James's hands and then released them, throwing himself back on the bed, flat on his back, knees and legs dangling over the edge.
"Ah, mate, this feels so strange!" He pulled out his wand and, after lifting his head to briefly examine his hands again, muttered the name of one of the house-elves. Then he tilted his head head up at James and patted the spot next to him. The wariness was still there, the worry that he might spook James, and so he would continue to be careful - but he definitely felt like something had clicked back into place, and as a result he was a bit more brazen, settling back into their old patterns despite himself.
"So, what do you want to eat, and what do you want to know?"
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"And you, mate, will tell me everything. The potion; how, when, who. Everything."
And as if to seal it, James crossed a finger over Sirius' neck. And in the wake of the touch, something formed. Supple leather curled into reality - a collar. But the smile in his eyes faded into a flash of vulnerability and worry. James was serious. As good as this seemed, magic like this had a price, he knew it. And he didn't want Sirius to have to pay it. Pads had been through too much already.
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Sirius twisted up to look at the house-elf and then gestured at James. "See young master here? He wants a roast beef sandwich, big as my head. But I've got a big head. Think you can make a roast beef sandwich that large? And can you bring us some cakes and sweets and ice cream and maybe a trifle and -" hell, Sirius didn't realise how hungry he himself was until he started thinking about pudding "- and maybe some fruit and a plate of crepes?"
After the house-elf left, disappearing into nothing with a loud crack, Sirius laid back again, idly fingering the collar and looking up at James. "Fuck. I guess I'm bloody starving, too." Shifting under James a bit more, he kicked off his shoes and then let his legs dangle again. He couldn't help but smile. James was happy and relaxed, and it was like old times again.
"The potion is safe, no worries." Well, it was more like the potential risks and side effects were fairly unknown, but Sirius doubted anything too bad could come of it. "It's temporary, of course. And Prongs -" Sirius's smile became a little more hesitant "- I'm still me. I mean, my memories are still here, I'm the same person I was an hour ago. That can't change." He rolled a little to free his other hand and then placed it lightly on James's waist. "But enough about that. This is a present, for you. And when you receive a gift, you don't ask about the price tag. And anyway, you know I come relatively cheap."
He smirked a little and then added, "You really do like it, right?"
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