drypuddles
in
me_rse
james/sirius, for bubblegumlocks
giftee:
bubblegumlocks
request: James/Sirius. "post-Hogwarts, when Lily is pregnant and they have an "affair" "
rating: PG13 for mention of sex.
pairing: Sirius/James, mentioned James/Lily
warnings: slash. mentioned pregnancy. infidelity... and possible unrealistic alcohol intake. but this is the Wizarding World, after all. ;)
title: to the moment just surrender
by: drypuddles
Author's Note: I hope you enjoy it,
bubblegumlocks -- or anyone, really. I certainly had fun writing it. I'm looking forward to the other entries...
Yes, Sirius' life goes by quickly. That the point. :D
~*~
It probably shouldn’t hurt as much as it does.
It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does.
Sirius knows that. But when James comes up to him, flushed and grinning and yelling, and suddenly Lily’s pregnant and their lives will never be the same again-
It hurts.
It hurts a lot.
---
Lily’s three months along when James turns up at Sirius’ flat.
Sirius opens the door for him, and the fridge is emptied of Firewhiskey, and they sit and drink until James leaves again, hours later.
Sirius doesn’t bother cleaning. He finds his jacket and his keys and he doesn’t return home for a week.
---
You’re a bastard, he wants to say.
James is sitting on the kitchen floor, humming a tune that Sirius doesn’t recognise.
You’re a bastard. And you could’ve owled.
He sits next to James, taking extra care not to touch him.
“Lily’s…” James begins.
“I know,” Sirius says, and they embrace the silence.
You’re a bastard.
It’s true, anyway.
---
He doesn’t know how far along Lily is, anymore. Not that he ever particularly cared to start with, but sometimes you have to pretend.
And, well, maybe he was interested in the kid.
Just the slightest bit, though.
And not any more.
---
The next time they see each other, James is all forced smiles and tired eyes.
According to Remus, Lily’s radiating a sort of motherly glow.
Sirius can’t see it.
He thinks James can’t, either.
---
“D’you think this is right?” James says. “I mean-this whole thing. The war, I guess. But me and Lily, having a kid, in the middle of it. It… it doesn’t seem right, somehow. Like we’re killing it before it’s even born.”
“Maybe,” Sirius says, slowly. “Why?”
“Just wondering.”
“Right.”
They go back to the Firewhiskey, and everything’s okay, even as everything Sirius has ever known crumbles around him.
---
Six months, he thinks. That’s what James says, anyway.
Three months left. He doesn’t know if he’s excited or terrified.
He doesn’t know if they’re even his own feelings.
“The nursery’s green,” James announces one afternoon. “I wanted it red, but.”
“Whipped?”
Once, James would have protested. Now, he only shrugs.
“She’ll be a Gryffindor, anyway.”
Sirius doesn’t comment.
---
James turns up the next day, which is sooner than Sirius expected. He stands at the front door to Sirius’ flat, chomping on his lip. His hand is twitching like it hasn’t since he started dating Lily.
Sirius presses a bottle of Firewhiskey into James’ hands, and welcomes him in.
Twenty minutes later, James starts talking.
“Me and Lily-we got into a fight,” he says. “Over the nursery.”
“The nursery?”
“Well, yeah. I told her she was trying to make our daughter a Slytherin, and she didn’t like that.”
“I can imagine.”
“And then she blew up at me for assuming that our kid’ll be a girl. It will be, I know it. So I…” he trails off, and looks longingly at the now-empty bottle of alcohol on the coffee table. “So I asked her how she knew it’d be a boy, and she started ranting about instincts and intuition and-”
Sirius laughs. “Doesn’t exist. Get your sorry arse back there and apologise.”
James smiles, and they both shuffle towards the front door.
Before he leaves, James claps Sirius on the shoulder. He hesitates for the slightest moment before he exits.
Sirius slams the door after him.
---
After that, things are okay. James owls Sirius maybe once a week, with irritatingly short letters that tell him everything but what he wants to hear.
Sirius, he writes. Lily bought a rocking chair yesterday. I put it together, sat down, and it fell apart. I’m hurting.
Sirius, he writes. Lily was planning out her labour today. Said she wanted me to be there, but also Remus and that friend of hers. She asked me if I wanted anyone else. I said I wanted you.
Sirius, he writes. You’ve been on my mind lately.
Sirius’ heart leaps in his chest.
Lily chose light green curtains for the nursery. I put them up and tugged on them, and they didn’t fall down, so I felt accomplished. I haven’t seen you in three weeks now. I’ll come over whenever I get the chance.
---
James Apparates into Sirius’ kitchen a week later, looking harassed and grumpy.
“It’s a boy,” he announces. “A boy.”
Sirius dutifully hands him a bottle of Firewhiskey. “So?”
“I thought it would be a girl.”
“Girls are complicated.”
“Not my daughter, she wouldn’t be,” James grumbles. “She’d tell everyone what was on her mind, and she’d be gorgeous, and I’d have to beat the blokes off of her with a club. And she’d never get married, either.”
“You had your hopes up high,” Sirius observes. “Maybe if you’d been hoping for a boy-”
“That’s the thing,” James says, whirling around and gripping Sirius by the shoulders. Sirius is uncomfortably aware of how close they are; James’ breath smells of Firewhiskey and scrambled eggs. “I wasn’t hoping for a girl, Sirius, I knew! And then-and then-Lily’s never going to let me live this down, is she?”
He releases his grip, grabs the bottle of whiskey and saunters out of the kitchen and into the living room. Sirius follows him, smiling.
“Probably not.”
“Says she’s gonna name him Harry.”
“Oh.”
James grimaces. “Harry Albus, too. Thought she was that far away from naming him Harry Snape, but there you go.”
Sirius sighs, and nestles himself into the couch. James continues to pace the living room floor. Nothing’s okay, but as long as James is here, it’s getting there.
---
He gets a package in the mail the next week.
Sirius, it says.
Two months left and I think I’m
Lily’s been sleeping a lot lately. I don’t know whether this is a symptom of the child or what, but I’ve been cleaning. Not with Muggle brooms, though. I brought boxes down from the spare room, the one that you always slept in. You should probably come around and pick them up sometime soon; you’ve left behind a lot of things.
James
---
In the end, James Apparates the boxes over.
“Lily’s barricaded herself inside the bathroom,” he says upon arrival. “Said she wanted me to leave her alone for the day, so I did. Where do I put these?”
Sirius grabs two of the three boxes and leads the way to his bedroom.
“What’d you do?” he says, pushing the door open with his hip. “Either you refused sex or you wanted it and she didn’t, but which?”
He can feel James staring at him.
“She-”
“Nevermind. Throw them under there, see, and sit down. I’ll get the alcohol.”
---
It probably shouldn’t have happened.
It shouldn’t have happened.
All he knows is that he woke up and James was right there, and more than a little naked, and Sirius wanted to laugh and smile and drink more Firewhiskey. He wanted to run and he wanted to tell Lily, he wanted to tell the world, but most of all he wanted to go back to sleep with the scent of James filling his nostrils; suffocating him.
In the end, Sirius goes for a ride.
When he comes back, James is awake and sober, and they don’t say a word.
---
Two days left now, and James stares at Sirius from across the table.
“So.”
Sirius shifts uncomfortably in his seat. They’re at the Potter Manor, and Lily is everywhere. Peering down at them from photographs, lying around in the form of spell books and novels-he can hear her singing in the upstairs bathroom.
He tries not to concentrate on the sound of running water.
“So,” he repeats, and he tries not to look too long.
“We’re-”
“Going to have a kid,” Sirius says. He drums his fingers on the table, and almost smiles when James glares at him. “I know that, see, I’m aware of these things. What else is new?”
“Dumbledore’s just told us something important, Sirius.”
“Oh?”
“There’s this-this-we’re going to have to go into hiding,” James whispers. “Lily and I, and the boy-Harry. You won’t be able to come over.”
Sirius doesn’t mind. He doesn’t visit the Potter residence much, and when he does, he never stays for longer than an hour. James is always the one to come to him.
“And I won’t be able to see you much, either. Maybe-maybe once every few months, when Lily gets fed up with magic food and makes me buy groceries.”
Sirius remembers how he once thought everything he knew was crumbling down around him.
He laughs.
---
Sirius doesn’t make it to the delivery. He turns up fifteen minutes too late; has to push and shove his way through to Lily’s room.
Inside, Remus is talking to a woman with crooked teeth and large ears. Lily is lying on the bed, snoring lightly, and Professor Dumbledore is smiling in the corner.
A small body is pressed into his arms.
“Take him,” James grins. “He’s your godson, you should hold him. Get used to him, you know?”
Sirius doesn’t look down as he puts the baby to his shoulder. “You’re... happy.”
“Dumbledore convinced Lily to name him James,” he says. “Harry James-after me. It feels so…”
“Like you’re a father?” Sirius says. “Like you brought life into the world?”
“I guess, yeah.” James grins one last time, and moves to hug him. He stops, shrugs apologetically, and moves off to talk with Dumbledore.
Sirius sighs. The baby in his arms wails.
He looks down, and falls in love.
---
James turns up at Sirius’ apartment three months later, sporting bright pink hair. He doesn’t seem to mind at all as he collapses on the beat up couch.
“You remind me of a second-year prank,” Sirius says, nose crinkling. “A bad one.”
James either doesn’t hear him, or pretends not to. “Harry did magic today,” he announces happily. “He’s been down for Hogwarts since he was born, that’s what I was talking to Albus for, but-”
“Pink doesn’t suit you.”
James stops talking and looks at him. Sirius feels like maybe he’s gone too far; maybe he should let James experience his fatherly joy, or whatever it is that he’s experiencing, because god knows when Lily will agree to a second child.
“It doesn’t suit you, either,” James eventually says, and they continue like nothing happened.
---
Harry’s six months old now, and Sirius hasn’t seen him since the day he was born.
He hasn’t seen James for three months, either, only getting letters every once in a while. It feels strangely familiar-
Sirius, James writes. Harry’s been levitating things this week. Drives Lily batty, and I have to dive to stop priceless china from shattering about five times a day. It’s alright, though, because mum always used to say that I did that, too, when I was a kid. I think I did something right, creating Harry. He’s wonderful.
Sirius, he writes. We moved again, today. We’re at a cottage now that smells like cabbage, and I saw a kitten in the broom closet the other day. I think maybe Arabella Figg used to live here, but Lily says that plenty of old women collect cats and smell like cabbage. I told her Arabella was quite young and that I’d let her know what she thought of her, and she threatened to hex me. Think Harry is scarred for life, now.
Sirius, he writes. I’m coming over at five. Be decent.
He has to smile.
---
They spend the evening drinking on the living room floor.
Bottles of Firewhiskey litter the ground, and Sirius is almost certain that Lily won’t appreciate him sending back a drunken husband. But he doesn’t care, at that moment. James and he-on the floor, drinking-like old times.
He laughs like a madman, and James glances at him out of the corner of his eye.
“Wuh-” he starts, putting another bottle on the floor and knocking it over. Alcohol soaks their pants. Sirius continues to laugh.
James tries again, and again, and again.
Eventually he starts laughing, too.
---
The hangover he has the next day ensures sobriety for a month.
---
And exactly a month later, James visits him again.
Harry’s seven months now, and James spends the afternoon telling Sirius of the wonders that he produces-exploding slugs, foggy windows (that absolutely do not have anything to do with the weather).
“He can even feed himself,” James says proudly. “Although it’s probably more like slamming his face into his food… but it’s still more than I’d’ve hoped.”
“Great,” Sirius says, and he wills himself to think of the small body that he once held in his arms.
---
“Bugger.”
“James-what are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?”
“You’re-”
“Sleeping. Go away.”
Sirius comes back twenty minutes later, and gazes at James’ snoring form on the beaten-up couch.
He returns to his bedroom reluctantly.
---
The next morning, Sirius sits him down at the kitchen table, shoves a mug of scalding coffee into James’ hands, and awaits an explanation.
“I don’t like coffee,” James protests, staring at the fridge over Sirius’ shoulder. “An’ I think that you probably knew that, you wanker.”
Sirius is reminded of a fifth-year James, and he gulps audibly. “Yeah, well.”
Minutes pass.
“Lily’s taken Harry out for the night,” James says slowly. “To her sister’s, I reckon. She didn’t say where. We had a row yesterday, and I think-I’m worried they might not come back.”
Sirius stares at him, and James stares back.
“What did you--?” he asks.
James continues to stare.
---
It was too natural, Sirius later thinks. It was too natural how it happened, how it was almost second-nature.
And it shouldn’t’ve been. It really shouldn’t’ve. But it was, and he didn’t know why, he only knew that it was like everything and time had stopped and that he and James were the only people in the whole world, maybe, and that everything that had happened up until that point in time was just a dream.
It wasn’t.
That’s what hurt.
---
Sometimes, Sirius hates him.
Sometimes, Sirius can't think of anyone else.
---
Things after that come naturally.
It’s probably because they don’t see each other at all. James is preoccupied with Harry, and Sirius with his Order duties, and they don’t have the time to even write each other.
It’s a shame, Sirius thinks one day. Drinking by himself really isn’t as great as drinking with James.
---
When Harry is one-and-five-months old, James Apparates into his apartment.
“We’re going into hiding,” he says.
Sirius stares.
“And I know I told you that before, and we were, but this time we really are-and I want you… I want you to be the Secret Keeper, alright? And Lily agrees, and everything. We had a bit of an argument over it, but she’s suspecting Remus might be…”
He trails off, and looks at Sirius pleadingly.
“No,” he says. It doesn’t take much thought. “I’m a bit obvious, aren’t I? Take Peter, no one’ll suspect him, it’s the perfect plan. Firewhiskey?”
James grins, and they drink the night away, and in the morning he’s gone.
Just like that.
Sirius cleans up the empty bottles, and glares at a photo taped on the wall.
“Wanker,” he says, and Remus continues to smile down at him.
---
It all happened so fast.
---
Everything’s gone, now.
His walls have finally crumbled.
And he laughs.
bubblegumlocks
request: James/Sirius. "post-Hogwarts, when Lily is pregnant and they have an "affair" "
rating: PG13 for mention of sex.
pairing: Sirius/James, mentioned James/Lily
warnings: slash. mentioned pregnancy. infidelity... and possible unrealistic alcohol intake. but this is the Wizarding World, after all. ;)
title: to the moment just surrender
by: drypuddles
Author's Note: I hope you enjoy it,
bubblegumlocks -- or anyone, really. I certainly had fun writing it. I'm looking forward to the other entries...
Yes, Sirius' life goes by quickly. That the point. :D
~*~
It probably shouldn’t hurt as much as it does.
It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does.
Sirius knows that. But when James comes up to him, flushed and grinning and yelling, and suddenly Lily’s pregnant and their lives will never be the same again-
It hurts.
It hurts a lot.
---
Lily’s three months along when James turns up at Sirius’ flat.
Sirius opens the door for him, and the fridge is emptied of Firewhiskey, and they sit and drink until James leaves again, hours later.
Sirius doesn’t bother cleaning. He finds his jacket and his keys and he doesn’t return home for a week.
---
You’re a bastard, he wants to say.
James is sitting on the kitchen floor, humming a tune that Sirius doesn’t recognise.
You’re a bastard. And you could’ve owled.
He sits next to James, taking extra care not to touch him.
“Lily’s…” James begins.
“I know,” Sirius says, and they embrace the silence.
You’re a bastard.
It’s true, anyway.
---
He doesn’t know how far along Lily is, anymore. Not that he ever particularly cared to start with, but sometimes you have to pretend.
And, well, maybe he was interested in the kid.
Just the slightest bit, though.
And not any more.
---
The next time they see each other, James is all forced smiles and tired eyes.
According to Remus, Lily’s radiating a sort of motherly glow.
Sirius can’t see it.
He thinks James can’t, either.
---
“D’you think this is right?” James says. “I mean-this whole thing. The war, I guess. But me and Lily, having a kid, in the middle of it. It… it doesn’t seem right, somehow. Like we’re killing it before it’s even born.”
“Maybe,” Sirius says, slowly. “Why?”
“Just wondering.”
“Right.”
They go back to the Firewhiskey, and everything’s okay, even as everything Sirius has ever known crumbles around him.
---
Six months, he thinks. That’s what James says, anyway.
Three months left. He doesn’t know if he’s excited or terrified.
He doesn’t know if they’re even his own feelings.
“The nursery’s green,” James announces one afternoon. “I wanted it red, but.”
“Whipped?”
Once, James would have protested. Now, he only shrugs.
“She’ll be a Gryffindor, anyway.”
Sirius doesn’t comment.
---
James turns up the next day, which is sooner than Sirius expected. He stands at the front door to Sirius’ flat, chomping on his lip. His hand is twitching like it hasn’t since he started dating Lily.
Sirius presses a bottle of Firewhiskey into James’ hands, and welcomes him in.
Twenty minutes later, James starts talking.
“Me and Lily-we got into a fight,” he says. “Over the nursery.”
“The nursery?”
“Well, yeah. I told her she was trying to make our daughter a Slytherin, and she didn’t like that.”
“I can imagine.”
“And then she blew up at me for assuming that our kid’ll be a girl. It will be, I know it. So I…” he trails off, and looks longingly at the now-empty bottle of alcohol on the coffee table. “So I asked her how she knew it’d be a boy, and she started ranting about instincts and intuition and-”
Sirius laughs. “Doesn’t exist. Get your sorry arse back there and apologise.”
James smiles, and they both shuffle towards the front door.
Before he leaves, James claps Sirius on the shoulder. He hesitates for the slightest moment before he exits.
Sirius slams the door after him.
---
After that, things are okay. James owls Sirius maybe once a week, with irritatingly short letters that tell him everything but what he wants to hear.
Sirius, he writes. Lily bought a rocking chair yesterday. I put it together, sat down, and it fell apart. I’m hurting.
Sirius, he writes. Lily was planning out her labour today. Said she wanted me to be there, but also Remus and that friend of hers. She asked me if I wanted anyone else. I said I wanted you.
Sirius, he writes. You’ve been on my mind lately.
Sirius’ heart leaps in his chest.
Lily chose light green curtains for the nursery. I put them up and tugged on them, and they didn’t fall down, so I felt accomplished. I haven’t seen you in three weeks now. I’ll come over whenever I get the chance.
---
James Apparates into Sirius’ kitchen a week later, looking harassed and grumpy.
“It’s a boy,” he announces. “A boy.”
Sirius dutifully hands him a bottle of Firewhiskey. “So?”
“I thought it would be a girl.”
“Girls are complicated.”
“Not my daughter, she wouldn’t be,” James grumbles. “She’d tell everyone what was on her mind, and she’d be gorgeous, and I’d have to beat the blokes off of her with a club. And she’d never get married, either.”
“You had your hopes up high,” Sirius observes. “Maybe if you’d been hoping for a boy-”
“That’s the thing,” James says, whirling around and gripping Sirius by the shoulders. Sirius is uncomfortably aware of how close they are; James’ breath smells of Firewhiskey and scrambled eggs. “I wasn’t hoping for a girl, Sirius, I knew! And then-and then-Lily’s never going to let me live this down, is she?”
He releases his grip, grabs the bottle of whiskey and saunters out of the kitchen and into the living room. Sirius follows him, smiling.
“Probably not.”
“Says she’s gonna name him Harry.”
“Oh.”
James grimaces. “Harry Albus, too. Thought she was that far away from naming him Harry Snape, but there you go.”
Sirius sighs, and nestles himself into the couch. James continues to pace the living room floor. Nothing’s okay, but as long as James is here, it’s getting there.
---
He gets a package in the mail the next week.
Sirius, it says.
Two months left and I think I’m
Lily’s been sleeping a lot lately. I don’t know whether this is a symptom of the child or what, but I’ve been cleaning. Not with Muggle brooms, though. I brought boxes down from the spare room, the one that you always slept in. You should probably come around and pick them up sometime soon; you’ve left behind a lot of things.
James
---
In the end, James Apparates the boxes over.
“Lily’s barricaded herself inside the bathroom,” he says upon arrival. “Said she wanted me to leave her alone for the day, so I did. Where do I put these?”
Sirius grabs two of the three boxes and leads the way to his bedroom.
“What’d you do?” he says, pushing the door open with his hip. “Either you refused sex or you wanted it and she didn’t, but which?”
He can feel James staring at him.
“She-”
“Nevermind. Throw them under there, see, and sit down. I’ll get the alcohol.”
---
It probably shouldn’t have happened.
It shouldn’t have happened.
All he knows is that he woke up and James was right there, and more than a little naked, and Sirius wanted to laugh and smile and drink more Firewhiskey. He wanted to run and he wanted to tell Lily, he wanted to tell the world, but most of all he wanted to go back to sleep with the scent of James filling his nostrils; suffocating him.
In the end, Sirius goes for a ride.
When he comes back, James is awake and sober, and they don’t say a word.
---
Two days left now, and James stares at Sirius from across the table.
“So.”
Sirius shifts uncomfortably in his seat. They’re at the Potter Manor, and Lily is everywhere. Peering down at them from photographs, lying around in the form of spell books and novels-he can hear her singing in the upstairs bathroom.
He tries not to concentrate on the sound of running water.
“So,” he repeats, and he tries not to look too long.
“We’re-”
“Going to have a kid,” Sirius says. He drums his fingers on the table, and almost smiles when James glares at him. “I know that, see, I’m aware of these things. What else is new?”
“Dumbledore’s just told us something important, Sirius.”
“Oh?”
“There’s this-this-we’re going to have to go into hiding,” James whispers. “Lily and I, and the boy-Harry. You won’t be able to come over.”
Sirius doesn’t mind. He doesn’t visit the Potter residence much, and when he does, he never stays for longer than an hour. James is always the one to come to him.
“And I won’t be able to see you much, either. Maybe-maybe once every few months, when Lily gets fed up with magic food and makes me buy groceries.”
Sirius remembers how he once thought everything he knew was crumbling down around him.
He laughs.
---
Sirius doesn’t make it to the delivery. He turns up fifteen minutes too late; has to push and shove his way through to Lily’s room.
Inside, Remus is talking to a woman with crooked teeth and large ears. Lily is lying on the bed, snoring lightly, and Professor Dumbledore is smiling in the corner.
A small body is pressed into his arms.
“Take him,” James grins. “He’s your godson, you should hold him. Get used to him, you know?”
Sirius doesn’t look down as he puts the baby to his shoulder. “You’re... happy.”
“Dumbledore convinced Lily to name him James,” he says. “Harry James-after me. It feels so…”
“Like you’re a father?” Sirius says. “Like you brought life into the world?”
“I guess, yeah.” James grins one last time, and moves to hug him. He stops, shrugs apologetically, and moves off to talk with Dumbledore.
Sirius sighs. The baby in his arms wails.
He looks down, and falls in love.
---
James turns up at Sirius’ apartment three months later, sporting bright pink hair. He doesn’t seem to mind at all as he collapses on the beat up couch.
“You remind me of a second-year prank,” Sirius says, nose crinkling. “A bad one.”
James either doesn’t hear him, or pretends not to. “Harry did magic today,” he announces happily. “He’s been down for Hogwarts since he was born, that’s what I was talking to Albus for, but-”
“Pink doesn’t suit you.”
James stops talking and looks at him. Sirius feels like maybe he’s gone too far; maybe he should let James experience his fatherly joy, or whatever it is that he’s experiencing, because god knows when Lily will agree to a second child.
“It doesn’t suit you, either,” James eventually says, and they continue like nothing happened.
---
Harry’s six months old now, and Sirius hasn’t seen him since the day he was born.
He hasn’t seen James for three months, either, only getting letters every once in a while. It feels strangely familiar-
Sirius, James writes. Harry’s been levitating things this week. Drives Lily batty, and I have to dive to stop priceless china from shattering about five times a day. It’s alright, though, because mum always used to say that I did that, too, when I was a kid. I think I did something right, creating Harry. He’s wonderful.
Sirius, he writes. We moved again, today. We’re at a cottage now that smells like cabbage, and I saw a kitten in the broom closet the other day. I think maybe Arabella Figg used to live here, but Lily says that plenty of old women collect cats and smell like cabbage. I told her Arabella was quite young and that I’d let her know what she thought of her, and she threatened to hex me. Think Harry is scarred for life, now.
Sirius, he writes. I’m coming over at five. Be decent.
He has to smile.
---
They spend the evening drinking on the living room floor.
Bottles of Firewhiskey litter the ground, and Sirius is almost certain that Lily won’t appreciate him sending back a drunken husband. But he doesn’t care, at that moment. James and he-on the floor, drinking-like old times.
He laughs like a madman, and James glances at him out of the corner of his eye.
“Wuh-” he starts, putting another bottle on the floor and knocking it over. Alcohol soaks their pants. Sirius continues to laugh.
James tries again, and again, and again.
Eventually he starts laughing, too.
---
The hangover he has the next day ensures sobriety for a month.
---
And exactly a month later, James visits him again.
Harry’s seven months now, and James spends the afternoon telling Sirius of the wonders that he produces-exploding slugs, foggy windows (that absolutely do not have anything to do with the weather).
“He can even feed himself,” James says proudly. “Although it’s probably more like slamming his face into his food… but it’s still more than I’d’ve hoped.”
“Great,” Sirius says, and he wills himself to think of the small body that he once held in his arms.
---
“Bugger.”
“James-what are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?”
“You’re-”
“Sleeping. Go away.”
Sirius comes back twenty minutes later, and gazes at James’ snoring form on the beaten-up couch.
He returns to his bedroom reluctantly.
---
The next morning, Sirius sits him down at the kitchen table, shoves a mug of scalding coffee into James’ hands, and awaits an explanation.
“I don’t like coffee,” James protests, staring at the fridge over Sirius’ shoulder. “An’ I think that you probably knew that, you wanker.”
Sirius is reminded of a fifth-year James, and he gulps audibly. “Yeah, well.”
Minutes pass.
“Lily’s taken Harry out for the night,” James says slowly. “To her sister’s, I reckon. She didn’t say where. We had a row yesterday, and I think-I’m worried they might not come back.”
Sirius stares at him, and James stares back.
“What did you--?” he asks.
James continues to stare.
---
It was too natural, Sirius later thinks. It was too natural how it happened, how it was almost second-nature.
And it shouldn’t’ve been. It really shouldn’t’ve. But it was, and he didn’t know why, he only knew that it was like everything and time had stopped and that he and James were the only people in the whole world, maybe, and that everything that had happened up until that point in time was just a dream.
It wasn’t.
That’s what hurt.
---
Sometimes, Sirius hates him.
Sometimes, Sirius can't think of anyone else.
---
Things after that come naturally.
It’s probably because they don’t see each other at all. James is preoccupied with Harry, and Sirius with his Order duties, and they don’t have the time to even write each other.
It’s a shame, Sirius thinks one day. Drinking by himself really isn’t as great as drinking with James.
---
When Harry is one-and-five-months old, James Apparates into his apartment.
“We’re going into hiding,” he says.
Sirius stares.
“And I know I told you that before, and we were, but this time we really are-and I want you… I want you to be the Secret Keeper, alright? And Lily agrees, and everything. We had a bit of an argument over it, but she’s suspecting Remus might be…”
He trails off, and looks at Sirius pleadingly.
“No,” he says. It doesn’t take much thought. “I’m a bit obvious, aren’t I? Take Peter, no one’ll suspect him, it’s the perfect plan. Firewhiskey?”
James grins, and they drink the night away, and in the morning he’s gone.
Just like that.
Sirius cleans up the empty bottles, and glares at a photo taped on the wall.
“Wanker,” he says, and Remus continues to smile down at him.
---
It all happened so fast.
---
Everything’s gone, now.
His walls have finally crumbled.
And he laughs.