|James Sirius Potter (curseseeker) wrote in hogwarts_dawn,|
@ 2021-06-18 06:38:00
|Entry tags:||character: harry potter, character: james s. potter|
RP: Jamie and Harry
Who: James Sirius Potter and Harry Potter
When: Friday, 18 June -- early morning
Where: Astronomy Tower
What: Jamie's trying to deal and the day isn't helping.
Jamie was not an early riser. He'd discussed this with Savannah not too long ago. However, he'd also mentioned that as long as the sun was up, it wasn't that early. And this was a day he was always up with the sun. It had started when he was small, a little kid excised for the day, carried into his school years where the day was the one bright point his friends could count on during end of year exams, and after it was...easier to deal with his thoughts in the morning and then let the day play out as the world needed it to after.
But, there were no schoolmates now, no world to make a fuss.
As he climbed the steps to the top of the Astronomy Tower, Jamie thought it was, perhaps, the quietest he'd spent this day in years...and he was okay with that. As long as Al was laid out, petrified, in the hospital win; as long as Lilu was in recovery, dealing with the damage to her hands; as long as Scorpius was laid out like one of the mummies in Uncle Bill's tall tales from Egypt, waiting to see how badly his own body would be scarred, Jamie was in no mood for festivities. There was a slight breeze at the top, night-cooled and fleeting, as he made his way across to the eastern edge of the battlement. Leaning his arms in one of the crenels, he stared out at the fingers of golden light creeping over the Scottish Highlands, crags and crevices deepening into further darkness with the contrast of shadow and light.
How had the other generations done it? Kept going in the face of so much loss...and so young? His dad was eleven when he truly understood that someone out there wanted him dead. His grandfather and his friends had been what? Fourteen? Fifteen? When the dangers of the world outside made themselves felt inside these castle walls? Jamie hadn't been exaggerating when he told Grandma Lily their generations had essentially succeeded. They'd given Jamie's generation a better world, one where life and death were things they read about in history books, things Dad gave speeches about every year.
It had been academic, in a way, coming here to find everyone dead and these few all that was left of the world he knew. It was done. Over. Happened where he couldn't see it and he'd even been given his sister back. Sure, he missed his mother. But, it wasn't really much different than it had been growing up with both his parents playing Anywhere But Here.
But, now, he could feel the spectre of death waiting in the wings every minute he was in the Hospital Wing. He'd thrown himself into being there for those who needed it, leaving the research and study to others when he was itching to be able to DO something to fix this. He'd kept Al and Lilu and Scorpius company, checked on Remus and Malfoy, kept an eye out in case Theo or Peter or the Headmaster needed anything, made time for a few words with Grandpa James and Grandma Lily when they were there, or Draco when he was there as well.
And what good was it doing? Scorpius had said what Jamie was doing was important. Hell, Jamie knew it was. But, how much longer could he keep on like this? How long before the cracks broke? He'd nearly lost it with his dad in journals when they had to put Al under. His press smile could only last so long and that point had been passed two days ago. He'd watched and listened to Remus Lupin lay there, burning up from the inside, pain etched in features that still looked younger than Lilu, and reassure everyone it would be okay, a cure would be found. And he'd felt guilty because a man who'd suffered as much as Lupin had could find more hope and optimism than Jamie, who'd learned at a young age that nothing could be trusted and the worst was never farther away than just around the corner.
Sighing, he lowered his head to rest his forehead on his joined fists. It would be time to go down soon. He'd have to don that press smile, go to breakfast, return to the hospital wing and do what he could to keep the spirits of those still conscious and aware up. But, he would take a few more minutes up on the tower, first, reflecting on what was turning out to be the worst week of his quarter century. (He didn't care what Savannah had said. He'd already turned twenty-four once. He was having to grow up faster than the few months it had been since then. Everyone else could follow her reckoning, but Jamie would think of himself as twenty-five.)
"Happy birthday to me."