Rub My Back Softly As We Doze Off To The Sound Of Rain Falling Outside My Window.

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“To love is not weak. Love is the strongest thing there is.”

— Jennifer L. Armentrout

‘ hold up ‘ reverse - cause its happened a lot lets be honest

He's got one hand on the back of Sirius' jacket, and if James looks close enough, he's pretty certain he can see the sheen of the leather fading from where he's grabbed the same spot so many times. London is busy at the best of times, and even busier on a Saturday night, he's noticed. Not that they've been in the city all too often; the extent of their time hanging out outside of the castle has been sorely restricted to Hogsmeade and the Potter Estate, for the most part. It's only in the past year or so that he and Sirius have really been given permission to go out into London, to enjoy the free time they have the summer before their seventh year and upcoming graduation. He feels light on his feet. Unstoppable. Invincible. They'd downed half a bottle of firewhiskey between the two of them before leaving the house, portkeyed to a little village just outside the city, and got the next bus right into the center of town - and thank you, Evans, for the scintillating lesson on muggle public transport. Still, Sirius seems intent to end their night early, and as a double decker bus goes whizzing past on the road, horn honking loudly, the wing mirror of the muggle monster of steel and dusty seats nearly smacks his best friend clean in the nose as Sirius tries to step out to cross. It's barely seven in the evening, and too close a call. "Thought I was supposed to be the blind one?" James snorts, trying to ignore the racing in his heart as he pulls Sirius back onto the path.

nighttimestorrm​:

Sirius had pieced together what had happened that night. But it was different hearing it. A fresh wave of anger rushed through him that he tried his best to push down. Peters betrayal feeling as though it had just happened all over again and was just as raw. Except James wouldn’t know all of it. And, as much as he hated the rat right now, he didn’t want to tell him and make things worse. After everything, he still wanted to protect who he believed was his friend.

How pathetic.

Taking a drag from his cigarette he watched the smoke drift through the air while he listened. He couldn’t even imagine how James felt right now. He was back and yet still lost what had been the most important to him. He couldn’t imagine the pain. And there was nothing he could do to make it any better for him. Though he wished that he could.

“He, um…” Clearing his throat he tried to come up with the right words. If there were any. He wanted to reassure his friend that his son was okay. But Sirius didn’t know that for sure. He hoped he was. He would need to find Remus and find out what happened after he…he died. The thought sent a chill down his spine. He died. It felt too unbelievable to be true. Out of everything he has been through it was his damn cousin that did him in. 

“He’s fine, James. He’s a fighter. Just like his dad.” He said, and gave James a nudge with his elbow. “I can’t imagine how you and Lily must be feeling. I’m so sorry, James. This…it’s confusing as fuck.” 

Sighing he took another drag. “It must have happened for a reason though, right? Maybe we can do things differently this time. Or…I don’t know…but there must be a reason. Even if it feels like shit. If other people remember then we have more information than last time. We…it has to end better this time.”

He wished this was a happier reunion. But his mind kept wandering to where he should be. And it wasn’t here. If he had only not been so close to that fucking veil. If he had stopped fighting once Dumbledore had turned up. All his mind was filled with was what if’s. And it was going to drive him mad.

--

‘He’s fine, James. He’s a fighter. Just like his dad.’

Those words made him freeze up. The way Sirius spoke about him, the way he held Harry in such a high regard, already, as if his son hadn’t only been a year old, to them, just a few months ago. Harry wasn’t a fighter, - he could be, in the future, if he needed to be, - but he was only a baby. Soft round cheeks, big green eyes, a messy head of hair he hadn’t even grown into yet. They still needed protective charms around the house to stop him from bumping into the cupboards, and climbing up the stairs. 

James had only just bought his Baby’s First Fly broom for his first birthday. 

And while he had wanted to believe that Sirius had been there when they had gone, after Halloween night, Lily’s own dreams, - her visions, her memories of Harry’s future, which matched up with so many of his own, including the forest, proved the worst of their fears. That Harry had gone to her sister’s, and barely knew a thing about being a wizard until he had turned eleven. The vow Sirius had made when he’d taken on the title of godfather was robbed from him, - and where had he been since, if Lily’s memories were true?

He turned, then, looking at Sirius quietly, gaze searching. They were both nineteen again, the mirror had proven that much, but Sirius still looked older. Tired. Like he’d seen a thousand years before, and was dreading the thought of seeing them, all over again. If he’d really appeared in the forest with them, with Harry, then there had to have been a reason for it, surely. Not just because he and Remus were their friends, but because, -

It hit him.

The way Sirius spoke. ‘It has to end better this time,’ he had said, and if that was what he believed, then what way did it end before?

And, more importantly.

“.. you met him?”

nighttimestorrm​:

Sirius rarely ever cried in front of other people. He could actually count on one hand the amount of times he had. Usually he would take himself off and hide, not wanting anyone to see him at his most vulnerable. But James had always been different. James was the person Sirius trusted above everyone else. His brother. The thought caused another sob to rumble through him and it was taking every ounce of strength he had left not to just break down completely.

But then he spoke.

He had forgotten what his voice sounded like. And he hadn’t realised that until now. Fifteen years. It had been fifteen years since he had saw him and yet it had never gotten easier. If anything, it had gotten worse as the days went by. Every day he had just wanted to talk to him. And now that he was here in front of him Sirius had no idea what to say.

He wanted to say he was sorry for not seeing the signs of Peters betrayal earlier. He wanted to say sorry for not fighting hard enough for Harry. He wanted to say how unfair it is that they spent more time apart than they did together. He wanted to tell him about how his son was so much like him that he should be proud. He wanted to tell him everything.

But most of all he just wanted to say how much he had missed him. Needed him. But nothing was coming out.

“You weren’t supposed to die before me.” He finally managed to say, his voice wavering with the effort to keep his breathing in check. He meant to say it as a joke but, honestly, he had never once thought about the possibility that James would die before him. It had felt impossible. It still did. After all, Sirius had been a reckless idiot that didn’t think before he acted. He hadn’t had much to lose. And yet James had his family. It wasn’t fair.

“You…you remember things, right? Because otherwise I’m going to sound insane.” 

He wanted to reach out and hug James but he knew that if he did he wouldn’t let go. And he couldn’t stop staring at the face he had seen through Harry. They were so similar that it hurt. It felt cruel. Either he had James and not Harry. Or Harry and not James. Knowing he hadn’t been there enough for either of them…it was breaking him.

--

Something was wrong.

Their entire world had been turned on it’s head, twisted and contorted, like some kind of nightmare. Every waking second was almost too heavy to bear, and while he tried to stay afloat, - for Lily, for his family, for the Order, and everything they were still fighting for, there was no end to it. No peace had come from it, despite Dumbledore’s promises, and now this was the price they were all paying. Re-living the worst years of their lives. Even the one good thing that had come from the past two and a half years had been taken from them, and all James wanted was.. to close his eyes, and breathe, and make it all go away. It was evident in Sirius’ expression, too. A tiredness and exhaustion in his eyes that hadn’t been there when James had seen him only a short time before.

Except.. it wasn’t a short time before, was it?

He didn’t know how long it had been since Sirius had seen him. 

How long either of them had been gone.

The words that come from his brother settle deep in his core, unnerving. They were the same, in so many aspects, - and their willingness to die for the cause was exactly what had landed them in the Order in the first place. They all knew the risks when they had signed up, and they were prepared to pay the price. Their silver lining had been painted with the invincibility of their late teens, early twenties, when magic and the world had been at their fingertips, -

And then his parents had died. And Marlene. And Harry had come. And one by one, their friends, family, Order members, had all dropped like flies, killed in their homes, and on their missions.

There was nothing invincible about it.

Sirius looked so tired. 

Like he had when he was fifteen, and he’d shown up at the estate, shaking and manic, having finally left the Black home for good. For a brief moment, James wondered if this felt the same; if Sirius had left something so distressing, so hurtful, so exhausting, that the only thing he could think to do was find James again. He seemed hesitant, too, like he was afraid James wouldn’t really be there if he had reached out, - 

But James was always good at taking the first step. 

Cigarette forgotten, abandoned to the damp grass under their feet; he reached a hand out, setting it on Sirius’ chest. There was a heartbeat, wild and frantic, - and in an instant, James was pulling him into a tight hug, arms wrapped around him like it was the only thing keeping them both afloat.

Perhaps it was.

“You’ve always been a bit of a nutter,” James huffed out, voice thick as he swallowed down his tears, and he held onto the other man. “.. I don’t know what I remember.”

‘Dear Mr. Potter, 

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July. 

Yours sincerely, 

Minerva McGonagall 

Deputy Headmistress’

“Oh, if I’m self-aware about being a douchebag, it’ll somehow make me less of a douchebag.”

"Those two things don't cancel each other out."

They're sprawled out on the common room floor, arms spread wide, gazing up at the towering ceiling above them. Sometimes he looks up at the very top, and James feels like the room goes on for miles, swallowing him whole. It's spinning, swirling right where it reaches the apex, held together with supportive beams, and decades of magic and hope.

Sirius is beside him, toes warmed by the fireplace, and James can almost reach his hand with his own. Peter and Remus had long since gone to bed, retiring a little after midnight, and he and Padfoot had been left alone.

It's never a bad thing.

He doesn't believe Sirius is a douchebag. Or an arsehole, or a twat, or any of those things. But he knows Sirius better than most. Better than anyone. He'd moved into the estate last summer, and James had gained a real brother, someone to truly call family when he was so far away from his parents.

Sirius has always been family. Sirius has always deserved family.

James moves his hand then, knocking his fingers against Sirius' lightly.

"Stop stealing my socks, though. I'm running out."

Ұ How short/tall is your character compared to their peers?

HEADCANON:

In the earlier years of Hogwarts, James would have been considered pretty tall. He'd hit a growth spurt early, which definitely made it easier to get onto the quidditch team sooner, rather than later. He learned how to use it to his advantage, though as the years have gone by, he's settled into a comfortable 'just a little taller than average'.

Tall enough to give Lily a kiss on the forehead, and to hold Harry on his shoulders so he feels like he's flying, and to make fun of Sirius for being a little shorter than him, he'd say. That's all that matters.

Character aesthetic ♡ James Potter

“the last enemy that shall be destroyed is death”

👠 What kind of shoes does your character usually wear in daily life?

HEADCANON:

James has four go-to pairs of shoes that he wears pretty regularly.

The first are a pair of beat-up sneakers, just used for running around in. Lily had shown him a few different muggle brands when they were out shopping one day, and he had fallen in love with a pair of Nikes.

The second, are a pair of boots, for when he's on missions. They're charmed to be non-slip, silent, hex-proof, and ridiculously comfortable. It makes it much easier to face auror and Order missions that are days long.

The third, are a pair of fancy dress shoes. His father had once taught him the importance of always having a smart pair of dress robes and good, formal shoes, for any necessary event and occasion. As much as he hates dressing up in the more traditional sense of wizard wear, he does appreciate the life lesson. He's never forgotten it.

The fourth pair of shoes are actually an old pair of slippers. Sirius had given them to him as a joke gift, making a gag about him being an 'old man', just after Lily had announced her pregnancy. But the slippers are comfortable, beyond belief, and James usually wears them around the house.