Para:0004 - Blog Posts

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​:

He was real.

That was the first thought that he had when James pulled him in for a hug. Instantly he wrapped his arms around his friend and clung onto him, hands grasping onto his shirt as though he was afraid he was going to just disappear. But right now he was here and he was real. James had always been the one Sirius ran to when things got too hard. He just knew what to do and say to make it seem easier to deal with. Yet, in this situation, he doubted anyone could make it feel better. Afterall, he was mourning for a life that technically hadn’t even happened yet.

“You and me both.” He whispered and managed a laugh as he hugged James tight. Where do you even begin trying to make up for lost time when you never even thought it was a possibility that you would ever see them again? Sirius could never have prepared himself for this.

“It’s been…it’s been a really long time, prongs.” He said and finally let go of James to look at him. He needed to pull himself together. Falling apart wasn’t going to help him figure any of this out. And if this was a second chance they needed to start changing things now. But, selfishly he just wanted to spend time with James and forget everything else.

And he was also just tired.

He knew they had to fight to change everything. Save everyone. But…he had already fought. He had done it once and failed. On more than one occasion. Was it really selfish to just…rest. He felt like it was. Especially when it was his friends lives on the line. But he had been through so much that the thought of doing it again made him feel sick.

What if they couldn’t change anything?

He’d rather stay dead than have to go through Azkaban again.

“What do you remember?” He asked gently. “If you want to talk about it. If not I get it. We don’t need to talk about it just yet.”

--

How long?

He wanted to ask the question, but it caught in his throat, fear strangling him then and there. He didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to try face the idea of Sirius ever having to go on without them, couldn’t, - and while they had all made plans, and written their wills, and came to their agreements and arrangements for the possibility of one of them ever dying, none of them had anticipated a situation like this. How could they?

It was like no magic he’d ever seen. 

Clearly it was something. If Sirius was staring at him like he’d come back from the dead, which he had, and Harry was nowhere to be found, any trace of him gone from the house. The Daily Prophet had confirmed the date, and still, it was a hard pill to swallow. Without any logical reason, something had dragged them all back from the brink of death, - 

And as much as James wanted answers, for a brief moment, he just wanted his brother.

He kept a hand on Sirius’ arm, using his grasp to tug him back over to the door. The back garden was cloaked, at least, not only in trees and greenery, but in enchantments that had been cast on the house for centuries. Ways to keep muggles out, and keep the magic in. It offered them some peace of mind, knowing they could live their lives without second guessing any peeping neighbors or passers by, and James was grateful for it as they took a seat on the back step, using his wand to light up a second cigarette. He passed it to Sirius, certain it wouldn’t be refused, and lit up another for himself.

What did he remember?

“.. you know what I know,” he admitted finally, staring out at the garden, noticing the tiny details of how much time had reversed. “He knew where to find us. And he did."

His mouth twisted up, fighting a pained frown, and James stayed quiet for a beat. He let out a breath, heavy, and shaking. The reason hung in the air between them, Peter’s name bitter on his tongue. 

“Lily didn’t get away in time. I tried to give her a headstart, to get out, but I - I couldn’t. I couldn’t stop him. And we - we don’t know what happened to the baby, but, -”

He’s not here. He’s not here. He’s not here.

“.. it’s like we never had him at all, Pads. The nursery’s gone, the food, the pictures, his things. They’ve disappeared. The house is full of - fucking boxes, like we just moved in a week ago.” He shook his head as he said it, almost in disbelief. James lifted a hand to rub at his eyes, fighting back the tears. “None of it makes any sense.”

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.”

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?”