sirius black -- eventually, even stars burn out (seirios) wrote in blurred_lines, @ 2009-08-01 17:35:00 |
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Uncle Charlus was too consumed with his own thoughts to care that James was heading out to play Quidditch somewhere remote. It'd been several weeks since he'd been concerned about James's behaviour and he let him go with only a nod. James was relieved to be out of the house and away from the gloom. He wasn't sad, he was happy, and Gaius had said that was okay so now he was going to go be happy with Sirius. He had all his Quidditch gear and he was even wearing a Cannons jersey he'd bought himself at Quality Quidditch when he'd first been allowed to venture out again. He got to the makeshift pitch and got on his broom to hover about twenty feet above the ground, surveying the area and enjoying the sun on his face and the wind in his hair. "Paaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaads, where arrrrrrrrrrrrre you?" he called in a sing song voice, assume Sirius was probably hiding in the clearing. "Give it a minute, Potter," Sirius called up, trenching his way through the grass. He'd decided to go through the valley, get some fresh air and try not to think of tiny, screaming babies because then he'd be going around smiling because for a start, they weren't his so he could enjoy smothering but they were cute so he didn't feel too badly about any of it. Nostalgia had hit him too, because despite wearing the jeans he never seemed to take off, he was wearing his Magpies t-shirt. It was one of the first things they'd really argued over but it was always playful. "Now get off that thing, we are going to have a celebration!" With that, he heaved his bag down the flatter grass and began to rummage. "S'been two days and we're still celebrating Lestrange?" James called down with a laugh before swooping toward his best friend and missing him by inches before hopping off his broom with all the skill he'd ever mastered. It looked effortless, but it was followed with a tumble so he could tackle Sirius, trying to stay clear of the bag so as not to break anything fun. "I missed you!" he said happily, content to lean against Sirius in the grass. "It's fucking glum around the house. Uncle's been moping and I've been trying to keep a straight face." He flicked his wand at his broom and it landed on the grass next to them. "Beautiful day." There was definitely nothing wrong with celebrating it after two days! "Hey, fuck you. You weren't around when I was celebrating so we," Sirius said, picking out a couple of bottles from the bag, "-are going to celebrate right now!" There was nothing in the world like watching James Potter and his broom. He was always brilliant. It was the reason he was good enough for the team much earlier than Sirius was at school. He laughed when he got tackled; how could be not? He was downright giddy, after all. "Things are just not glum for me right now. Aside from missing you, it's been a really great few days." He gave him a playful push to the chest, "Come on, we have a gorgeous day, some very good alcohol and Rodolphus Lestrange is dead!" He smiled brightly, "It feels like I can breathe again, it's wonderful. I fully intend to enjoy it!" James couldn't argue with that! And it was good seeing Sirius so happy. It'd been too fucking long and his smile was contagious. James couldn't remember the last time the two of them felt so free. "If you want to feel even better, from what I've managed to piece together, Bellatrix has really lost her shit," he said with a smile. "She's hurting. That ought to give you good dreams tonight," he said, taking one of the bottles of alcohol from Sirius and tapping it with his wand to open it. He put it to his lips, not bothering with a glass, and after taking a huge swig handed it to his friend. "This is good," he said, sounding content as he leaned back on his elbows and looked up at the sky. "This is how it ought to always be." "Now James, anyone would think I was sadistic! Getting enjoyment from aother person's pain is just wrong," Sirius chided and he even managed to keep a straight face for all of sixty seconds before cracking up, "Oh, man, I wanted to stay straight for that. Okay, okay," He pushed his hand across his eyes, drying what wasn't quite tears of laughter but was close enough. He took the bottle and downed a good gulp of it, before rolling onto his onto his stomach on the grass and setting the bottle down. Ants could be damned if they were touching that. "Speaking of extra news," Sirius said, making the decision instantly, "I have a little more but I dunno quite how you're going to feel about it. D'you still want to know?" It would make him feel better to get the yes, though he doubted he wouldn't tell him anyway. "I'm not stupid," James said quietly, pushing himself up and looking Sirius expectantly. "I know what day it is and when she was due. She's had it then?" he asked. He almost didn't want to know. There was something there. Something small again, it was always small, but James felt it. Like a puzzle piece missing, or biscuit made without salt. "Tell me about it," he said. His voice was still quiet, a mixture of curiosity and dread. It was a half blood, it was worthless to the family name, and it would cause him nothing but shame for as long as he lived but he wanted to know everything anyway. "All of it." Hesitantly, Sirius nodded before breaking into an enthusiastic smile and sitting up. He didn't want to completely advertise it, but at the same time, he couldn't keep the excitement out of his tone. "It was so gross! I was with her because well, I was with her and she screamed the place down and I haven't heard her lose it like that since we were at school and you would drive her crazy but then he came out and fuck, he's gorgeous!" He had to stop to take a breath and push his hair out of the way in the wind. "He has your hair and really bright eyes and he's really small and he squirms and he can really grip, I think we have a great Chaser on our hands here and he's going to hate you for giving him your hair! You should see it, it's a total mess but he's much cuter than you and so he can pull it off and--oh hang on, d'you want to see? I got Jones to take a picture last night." James listened without saying a word. He had a son. He had a son. He felt something prickling at his eyes and they couldn't possibly be tears because this baby was shameful but then Sirius was shoving a picture under his nose and there he was. He was little and squirming with wild hair and a scrunched up face. And James was surprised to see that the baby did look like him. There wasn't any way he was going to be able to pawn this baby off as someone elses. And quite suddenly, he wasn't sure he wanted to. "What'd she name him?" he asked, running a hand across his eyes to brush away the things that weren't the beginning of tears. He held the picture up against the light and he could see more detail. Eyelashes and ten tiny fingers and his grandfather's chin. His grandmother's cheekbones. He was a Potter. Fuck. What had he done? His mind was racing, and he knew he needed to talk to Gaius but maybe this could be his secret. Other purists had bastards. Hell, Lestrange had one in France and--it happened. It could be overlooked. Blood? When the baby was so obviously a Potter and not muggle at all? "Can I keep this?" he added almost shyly. "Harry," Sirius said, trying to tone it down a little. "Harry James Potter and if you dare try and take that name from him, I'll be fucking furious." He looked down at the picture, as if did illustrate his point perfectly, "Because he really is a Potter. As I was always getting told as a child, there's no mistaking what stock he came from." It was a weak joke, but he felt he needed one. "I don't think Elvendork really suits him. Harry seems to. He seems happy enough." For a child without a father, anyway. He couldn't help but notice he looked like he'd been kicked. Sirius had to step up and make sure he was okay. He gave his arm a quick, comforting squeeze. "Yeah, you can keep it. Show your mother. Reckon he looks like her a bit." He took a deep breath before adding, "We're not telling people she's had it yet so please be careful. We're all really happy to have him and you know I'll protect him with my life, but the longer he's kept under wraps, the better chances he has. So...she may not get to see him so...yeah, just show her, will you?" James took the picture and tucked it into his back pocket carefully. "I never told them about him," he said. "Until Lily mentioned it in the journals they didn't know," he said. "I don't want him hurt and I don't want to take that name from him... He's a Potter," he said, "and he'll be fine. Fortune Favors the Brave, yeah?" he asked, holding up the bottle of whiskey. He was upset. There was no hiding it from Sirius. "I want to see him," he said finally. "I thought-- I don't know what I thought-- I thought he'd turn out all gingery and muggle looking and non-magic, but he's perfect," he said, words coming out in a jumble. "And I don't think mum'd ever forgive me if all she got was a picture of him. We'll sort it out. He's her grandson." Godric's fucking ghost, how did this get so complicated. He just wanted to have a nice afternoon with Sirius and now he was crying, and there was no hiding it since he was sniffling and he pulled off his glasses and let them drop to the ground. "I don't worry about what you'll say," Sirius reminded him gently, "But you told me not to trust anyone and I'm not. I'm trying to be careful." The idea of James actually seeing the child made his heart rate go up. Not just from excitement but from a little bit of panic. He stopped and bit his lip, a nervous habit. Push it. "What does a muggle look like, James?" He'd asked him that eight years before, because he never had seen one up close. He'd told him that they looked the same as wizards. He hoped he'd remember that. Sirius sighed, more from his inability to change things than anything else and just put his arm around him. "We all make sacrifices for our beliefs." It was an empty platitude and he couldn't even force himself to believe it. "James, you loved your father very much but the sad truth is Harry's not going to have one. What difference will it make if you see him now? You won't be a part of his life. Not really, because a part of you knows that if they find out about him, at the very least, you'll never see him again and at the most..." He didn't need to finish the sentence. A child's coffin weighs nothing. He rubbed his arm gently and sniffled a little himself, "We do what we believe in and we pay for it. This is the world they've created and it's one he'll have to grow up in, now. He'll probably never go to Hogwarts and even if he does, he'll be looked down on his whole life because he's dirty inside. Think what I did to Snape because he was halfblood trash. That's what he has to look forward to." Bitter, unhelpful but no less true, at the core. "Please remind yourself of that before you risk exposing him to the world you've chosen. In the end, you'll marry someone else and have children that will be accepted by society. He'll always be on the outside and he'll never know how much you love him." He tried a very wobbley smile and reached to muck about with James' glasses, "But I'll be there with him and I'll do my best to tell him, even if it's not the same. I'll do my best, I promise." James listened to Sirius's words. They made sense and they didn't which wasn't unusual really when you were listening to Sirius, but this was different. He could remember... the question, what does a muggle look like? And James, sitting on Sirius's bed, eleven years old, laughing because the question was silly. "They look just like wizards. Exactly the same." How had he known that at eleven but forgotten it at twenty-one. Why had he thought Harry would look different? He'd been so sure. His forehead wrinkled as he tried to remember. Nothing seemed solid anymore, it was all floating around in a white mist somewhere, entirely of his own making. It had to be that way didn't it? Things had to make sense. There had to be order in events. Remus had turned on him, he'd known that. That was solid. But Sirius wouldn't... he never had. And Marly, he'd thought she had, but then she was dead-- He put both hands up to his temples. "I want to see him." He wasn't asking. And there somewhere behind his eyes, was James Oorion Potter. But only for a second. "Talk to Lily," Sirius told him, gently. He had to push. He had to try and get under all of this as it was so damned close. He put his hands up on top of his, trying to be as reassuring as he could. "Talk to the mother of your child." He didn't want to overload him but this was bloody progress and he didn't want to see it wasted. This was too good to pass up. "It'll be okay." Reassurance, comfort, support; these were the things he reminded himself before that he needed. He should have spiked the drink. No, that wouldn't have helped but it might have made him feel better. James nodded. It was so easy to agree with Sirius. It would be ok. And it couldn't hurt to talk to Lily. She wasn't going to convince him of anything. She could have been in on it. She could have been unfaithful. Except Harry looking just like him. "Can we fly?" James asked, almost pathetically. He wanted to leave all this behind. He didn't want to waste an afternoon with Sirius on tears. "Race me," he said, grabbing for his wand. "Fast as we can fly." Sirius whacked his hand playfully, before handing him his glasses. "Good." He did want to fly and feel ecstatic again, however, there was the small matter of something else first. "First things first," He said, looking at the glasses he'd gotten out, "I did pack these for a reason. I think we need to do a toast to your little boy." Things were going too well for him to not take advantage of it and for it to be like it was fantastic, because it really was. They made a beautiful kid, after all. "Come on, Dad. One glass won't kill you." Assuming he didn't fall off his broom at high speed after drinking but luck was on their side, wasn't it? They could risk it today. "Then we can fly." Dad. A small smile crept onto James's face. How could it not? He had a son. Wasn't that what every man lived for? He took the glass from Sirius and poured some of the bubblier alcohol into it, before slopping some in Sirius's glass as well. "I'll let you do the honor," he said. "Because I've got no fucking clue what to say." He didn't sound unhappy about it though, and that was a start. Sirius took the glass from him and raised it. He hadn't really had time to think of anything so he went with the first thing that came into his head. "To Harry, may his hair attract many a girl/boy/miscelaneous and hope he supports the Magpies, cause the Cannons are losers!" They were and all so it wasn't like it wasn't true. "Hopefully he knows how much he's loved." He then downed the glass in one go, thinking they could both use a good, hard shot of alcohol after that mental fiasco. James clicked his glass to Sirius's glass even if the toast was ridiculous. "To Harry-- my son--" The Cannons weren't that bad! Still, he downed the alcohol, feeling it burn, and figuring that'd be the first glass of many today. With a silly grin he reached for his broom and it flew into his hand, rising a few feet to pop James up to his feet. He was showing off with tricks he hadn't used since they were kids. "It's a beautiful day," James said, meaning it as much now as he had earlier. "Race you to the bridge?" |