Interaction:howling At The Moon - Blog Posts

selene - would you rather the sky had no moon or no stars?

"I'm not answering this question."

mooneychild​:

who: @jamiespxtter​​ when: 1st January 1979 where: the Potters’

As soon as Remus felt caught up with Lily - at least caught up for the time being - he rushed to Harry’s nursery to face James. He was a bit surprised he didn’t crash their conversation, but part of him was grateful for it. There were so many emotions running through him at once and seeing James and Lily together may have overloaded it.

Remus didn’t get to spend much time in the nursery they’d set up for Harry and it felt even odder now that Harry wasn’t there to fill it. James’s back was turned to him, so he knocked on the door frame so not to scare him. Though he’d probably give him a fright either way given their circumstances.

His heart swelled when James turned around. He almost cried when Lily hugged him, but this felt entirely different. He felt like his chest was being filled up, like something missing had found its place again.

“You know, you’d think I’d be prepared after essentially staring at your face for the last five years, but…” He moved across the room to James and wrapped him in a hug. “I can’t believe it’s you.”

--

Boxes. He was surrounded by boxes. 

Big ones, small ones, a desk that needed to be built, still. It wasn’t a nursery at all; any evidence they had ever been expecting a child was simply gone, like none of it had mattered. Instead, in it’s place, were the remnants of what they had hesitantly called Lily’s home office, before she had found out she was pregnant. Most of those things had been put away in storage, or used in another room, and now they were here, taking up Harry’s place.

James couldn’t breathe.

He didn’t know how long he had stood there, simply staring. Time had come to a standstill, and for moments, minutes, hours, all he could do was look, trying to remember where everything went. Harry’s crib had been against the far wall, and the rocking chair beside it. A toy box, a blanket box, his changing table. All of it, gone. Even just looking at the room hurt far more than he could ever think of putting into words. It had been his idea to volunteer to go up to the room, knowing that looking at the empty space where there son had been, where she had - 

It would be the last thing she would want. And the last thing he wanted for her.

The knock to the door pulled him out of it, and James turned, fully expecting his wife to be standing there. In her place, however, stood a man he hadn’t seen in some time, and James felt the wind knocked from his chest all over again.

“- Remus, -” he started, the name weak on his lips. The hug was more than welcome, - it was desperately needed, and he grabbed onto the other man for dear life, a weak, wet laugh catching in his chest.

“The last - five years?” The words were an echo, and James pulled back to look at him, holding him tightly, “What are you talking about?”

“It’s been a decade since you’ve been gone.”

"Don't be so dramatic, Moons."

There's a crooked grin on his lips as he steps into the shack, a bag of goodies thrown over one shoulder. Getting to the castle and back had been a challenge, especially with McGonagall on edge around the full moon anyway, and while he appreciates her concern, they very obviously have this entire thing under control.

They've healed Remus' wounds to the best of their abilities, and settled for muggle bandages for the rest. He'd earned a laugh and a shove, when he'd tried to kiss the cut on Remus' cheek, and that was reassurance enough to know his best friend was alright.

Peter had stayed with him as he and Sirius made the trek back to the castle, picking up a selection of essentials; chocolate from the house elves, clean clothes, a blanket to keep around his shoulders for the walk back. It wasn't long, but James knew he would be tired, and every little thing would help.

"I made it worth the wait, though," he adds, kneeling down where Remus is sitting against the edge of the bed, covered only by the blanket they'd left there the month before. From the bag, he pulls out a piece of chocolate cake, a little smushed in it's wrapping, but still warm from the ovens.

"Saved you a slice," James teases.