Force My Muse To Spill Their Secrets

‘Hold up’

He'd been just about to head out the door when Molly's hand stops him, pulling him back into the Burrow before he can protest.

Not that he wants to, really. The house is warm, and lively, hopping with toddlers and smelling of good, homecooked food, but James knows better than to overstay his welcome. He'd only dropped by to thank Molly, for the millionth time, for the few things she'd given them in preparation for the baby coming. What was supposed to be a quick ten minute stop, however, has turned into a two hour conversation over several cups of tea, and he really needs to get back to the Order before nightfall.

But Molly seems insistent, tugging him back gently, and he's not in a mind to protest. Everything she says, everything she thinks, is crucial. Important. He holds her opinion in higher regard than most, and the last few months have proven that. They've become true friends, he's sure of it, - and with Molly's own boy on the way, he doesn't doubt they'll end up wrapped up in each other's lives for some time.

He's expecting her to say something, and he turns to look at her.

She says nothing, but instead, pulls him into a tight, loving hug.

It's nice.

Safe.

James finds himself grinning, arms wrapping around Molly to give her a, - gentle, - squeeze.

"Thank you," he states, the words soft between them. "Sincerely."

‘ hold up ‘

He lets out a strangled yelp as the collar of his shirt is roughly tugged from behind, and James tries not to trip over his own feet as he's pulled back into a doorway. He's already on high-alert, heart beating rapidly in his chest, pounding in his ears, and changing their hiding place had been a bad decision. His palms are sweaty, grip loose on his wand as his back is pressed against the cool stone of Hogwarts' ancient walls, and while part of him wants to keep pushing forward, to keep their heads low and their position a Godric-damned secret, it's becoming an increasingly difficult tactic to maintain. Sirius is nowhere to be found, after taking a wrong turn on the fourth floor, Remus and Peter having split off within moments of the team's arrival. James feels decidedly out of place, nose-to-nose with Marlene in the tiny doorway as rushed footsteps hurry by, not stopping to investigate their spot. It's the most intense game of muggle hide-and-seek he's ever played. Not that he's ever played it before. Marlene is staring him down, gaze pinned to his own, and James can't look away. It's years of friendship, over a decade of knowing each other, bottled up into one intense stare-down that he doesn't actually remember agreeing to take part in. There's a storm in her eyes, he notices, something that's always been brewing under the surface, - and not for the first time, James is wondering what's on her mind. She's his favorite type of mystery. She looks like she's about to say something when someone else runs by, again, footfall echoed in the halls around them, and James resists the urge to flinch when they come just a little too close to their hiding spot. "You owe me," she states finally, when the quiet that signals safety and a close call creeps up on them again, and James grins at her.

hope — my writing

nighttimestorrm​:

who: @jamiespxtter​ when: 1st january 1959 where: potters home

Despite how quickly Sirius had rushed to Godrics Hollow he couldn’t bring himself to go up the door. Instead he paced up and down the street, trying to control his shaking hands and his beating heart. Still none of this felt real. It must be a dream or some sort of hallucination. But there Godrics Hollow was, just how he remembered it before he came here on Halloween to find destroyed. He could still remember that night. The images would forever be in his memory, never to go away and instead would haunt his dreams. He could still hear the sound of Harry crying. He could remember begging Hagrid to give him to him. He was his Godfather. It was up to him to take care of him. But, no. That had been taken away from him. Just like everything else.

Shaking his head he forced himself to come to a stop and stared at the front door. What if they weren’t there? If it were only him that had been brought back to this time then it would feel as though he had lost them all over again. And he wasn’t strong enough to suffer that. If he walked in there and the place was empty. Or worse…the same as he last time he had saw it. That would break him beyond repair. So he just stood there. It was still early enough that the street was still quiet. Yet he knew he couldn’t stand there forever. So, not being brave enough to go up to the front door he tried to quietly make his way around the back. He would look in the window and see if there was any sign of life. And if not…then he didn’t know what he was going to do.

But as soon as he stepped into the back garden he froze. He just stared as there stood James, looking back at him. And he didn’t know what to do. There was a chance that James knew nothing of what was going on. That it was only Sirius that was effect by…whatever this is. So he knew he should at least try to act somewhat normal. But he couldn’t. A lump formed in his throat while he blinked away tears from his blurring eyes, scared that if he couldn’t see James he would disappear. Part of him still believed this was just a dream. But he didn’t care right in this moment. Because there was James just as he remembered him. A little bit younger but…still there. Alive.

He couldn’t move. If he did he knew he would just fall to his knees. All these years of missing his friend, his brother, came crashing over him like a wave threatening to drown him. There were so many things he wanted to say but he didn’t even know where to begin. He just wanted to forget about everything else for just a moment. Right now he just wanted his friend back. Yet he were afraid to reach out in case he were nothing but a ghost. And still, he would take that over nothing.

“J-James.” He finally managed to choke out and before he crumbled and let the sob he had been holding in take over him, a tear escaping down his cheek. “Are you…you’re real…right?” 

--

It’s been a long morning.

It aches in his bones, and over his shoulders. In his eyes, where he’s cried until he simply can’t cry any more, and deep, deep in his chest, an ache of a loss he can’t quite face yet. It’s not a question of where is Harry, because he’s simply not there any more, taken from existence like he meant nothing to the world. To them.

He knows Lily feels it, too. He can see it in the way she avoids going upstairs, the way she lingers around where his high chair used to be by their little kitchen table. So much of their life, their own existence, had been so entirely centered around him. Everything James had known about himself had shifted, geared into something newer, something better; a father, and a husband, a man who made promises, and kept them. And while he had wanted to believe he had done everything right, had put up the best fight he possibly could have to keep his family safe, the odds had been stacked against them. He barely stood a chance. Voldemort had the upper hand, had all the insider information to come to their home, to take what was theirs, to target their son.

He can’t face Peter. He refuses to.

He’d barely lasted two seconds in his own fight against Voldemort. It eats him up inside.

Breathing is hard. Living with that fact, is hard. It clings to his skin like ice, keeping him tense and cold, and for the second time that night, James finds himself out on the back step, the action familiar and foreign all the same. His hand is shaking as he lifts the cigarette to his lips, and he uses the tip of his wand to light it, frowning when he just can’t seem to steady his hand. It’s easier, in front of Lily, when he has to keep a brave face.

Alone? James is close to cracking.

There’s a sound by the side gate, and everything in him freezes up.

It’s too soon. It’s too much. Before he can help it, his heart is pounding in his chest, hard enough to hurt, and he raises his shaking hand, wand trembling in his grasp. They’ve faced too much to deal with this, again. He can’t handle this, again.

- only it’s Sirius, who comes around the side of the house, stopping dead when he spots him.

Time is suspended, for a moment. It hangs in the air, a weight between them he hasn’t experienced in the ten years they’ve been friends, brothers. James can see him, the way he had been, older and tattooed and so tired as they stood beside Harry in the forest, - and when he blinks, Sirius is nineteen again, crying as he looks at James.

“Pads, -” he manages, voice strangled, and James takes a step, and another, wand dropping until they’re barely a distance apart, “- Sirius?”

I solemnly swear that I’m up to no good.

░ Some angsty starter sentences !!  ❝ It’s okay — you’re going to be okay! ❞ ❝ No, please don’t leave… ❞ ❝ What do you mean you’re leaving?❞ ❝ I…I’m sorry. I have to go ❞ ❝ Where does it hurt?❞ ❝ What the hell did you do that for?❞ ❝ Why didn’t you tell me this before? ❞ ❝ No, they can’t be… they can’t be gone❞ ❝ I thought that we would go together ❞ ❝ I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do it, but I had to tell them.❞ ❝ It won’t stop bleeding! ❞ ❝ Why do you make me feel so vulnerable? ❞ ❝ Who shot you?! ❞ ❝ What did you do? ❞ ❝ Are you all right? ❞ ❝ I can’t do this anymore ❞ ❝ I don’t think I can make it…❞      ❝ Why are you doing this to me? ❞ ❝ You’ve been unconscious for hours.❞ ❝ You have a fever…❞ ❝ I think I’m sick…❞ ❝ You shot me! ❞ ❝ What happened to you? ❞

Wine

It's their first night living alone.

The flat is tiny, with a balcony, and a double bed, pushed up under the window. The kitchen is just barely big enough for the two of them, but they've been graduates now for three whole months, and summer is ending. As enjoyable as it had been to spend the warmer days wrapped up in the comfort of his own bedroom in the estate, something in James longs for more. He's nineteen, now, the excitement of being an independent adult buzzing at his fingertips. He starts Auror training in a few weeks, and then..

There's no Hogwarts to go back to, in September. No more sharing a dorm with his best friends, or sharing a common room with a whole quarter of the school population. He's gone from being surrounded by hundreds of students on a regular basis, to this.

If James is being honest, he prefers this.

This, is a life with Lily. This, is a home, their own, built together. He hadn't hesitated to ask, and she hadn't hesitated to say yes, just as eager as he had been to catch up on the time they had lost. It's abundant, now. There's still boxes to unpack. A life to start, together. They're just shy of a year into officially being a couple, and still, every day, he wakes up happier than before.

And it's all thanks to Lily.

There's a bright grin on his lips when he opens the cheap bottle of wine, pouring it out into two wine glasses. Clear crystal, the most expensive thing in the flat, and a moving out gift from his parents. The wine is blood red, sharp and sweet, and James carries the two glasses over to where she's perched on the couch, curled up, content, like there's nowhere else she'd rather be.

She smiles at him, just as happy as he is.

There's nowhere else he'd rather be.

« Padfoot follows Moony absolutely everywhere »

James

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃 /  𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒.

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠.

❛ What happened? ❜

❛ How are your injuries? ❜

❛ Just promise me you’ll stay here. ❜

❛ You can’t blame yourself. ❜

❛ You know I’m here for you, right? ❜

❛ I’ve never seen you like this before. ❜

❛ When I wake up, you won’t be there. ❜

❛ Okay. You get to leave now. ❜

❛ No. I don’t believe you. ❜

❛ Just.. put down the very sharp knife… ❜

❛ It wasn’t your fault. It hurts. ❜

❛ This isn’t you. ❜

❛ Stop it. ❜

❛ You should be resting. ❜

❛ Are you okay? Did they hurt you? ❜

❛ How can you act like that? ❜

❛ Then why are you still here? ❜

❛ Are you okay? ❜

❛ You can’t live in the past. You gotta move on. Let it go. ❜

❛ And when were you planning on telling me? ❜

❛ What are you, trying to give me a heart attack? ❜

❛ What’s wrong? What happened? ❜

❛ I thought we agreed that secrets are bad! ❜

❛ Sorry. Didn’t want to push any sore spots. ❜

❛ Everything okay? ❜

❛ Do you even know where you’re headed? ❜

❛ I can’t help you unless you talk to me. ❜

❛ Promise me you’re not gonna over-react. ❜

❛ It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay. ❜

❛ Whoa, what are you doing? ❜

❛ Why do you run from me? ❜

❛ You’re changing the subject. ❜

❛ It’s four o'clock in the morning, what are you doing? ❜

❛ You’re bleeding. ❜

❛ You gotta be more careful. ❜

❛ I meant… How are you holding up? ❜

❛ You’re avoiding my question. ❜

❛ I think the worst of it’s over now. ❜

❛ Don’t let fear keep you quiet. You have a voice so use it. ❜

'Hold up'

Their hand is on the back of James' shirt, catching him before he leans too far forward.

It's a rush, sometimes. The same exhilaration he gets from flying, from swinging out of his broomstick around the goalposts. There's an infinite feeling that comes with being so high up, so far away from the ground below, and he wants to believe he can hold onto that sensation forever. The astronomy tower comes pretty close, and James finds himself up there with Charity far more than he'd realised.

He likes them. A lot. He likes their honesty, and their freedom. There's a bravery in being so entirely who you are that the rest of the world melts away, and it's a feeling he's chased for years. Charity embodied it like it's second nature, weightless, and he's jealous.

They're too nice for him to be mad about it, though.

The pair of them are pressed up against the railings of the tower, watching the world go by. There's a peek of Hogsmeade in the distance, and the train tracks over the lake and the moors, and James can appreciate the view.

He'd been so enveloped in it, however, he'd almost leaned too far over the edge, and Charity had caught the back of his shirt just in time.

He's lucky they're around.