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James Potter is aware that is team is seriously probably going to try and murder him in his sleep. Sirius told him he deserved it.
And yeah, maybe making quidditch stars go on a distance run is a little bit cruel, but he was adamant. They were already a pretty good team, having Sirius, Lily and Marlene on the team ensured that, but if they wanted to win the cup again they had to be great. And he was the captain. So it was his responsibility to make them great.
It was only preseason, and preseason meant conditioning.
Already, his team did two-a-days. Classes hadn't begun, so his whole team was on a rigorous schedule getting into competition form. He had made his mind up as soon as he had been voted captain at the end of the last season, waiting until the summer break was about to begin before he took action. This Gryffindor team would make history.
It had begun with flyers, designed by the one and only Remus Lupin. He had a talent for design. They hadn't mentioned his plan at all, only that people interested in trying out for the Gryffindor team should sign their names on a sheet tacked to the wall in the common room, and that there were no guarantees. Everyone who tried out would get a chance, and nobody's spot was sacred. Talent was important, but this team was fueled by hard work and discipline.
And so the owls went out the first week of the summer break. They detailed his plan. Over the summer, everyone was to try and fly at least five days a week. If they couldn't fly, they could try running or swimming, only a few miles of running necessary, two or three. There was a list of mandatory stretches and suggested bodyweight exercises provided by a muggle friend of Lily's, to be done three times a week, as well as a reminder that eating enough was paramount. He didn't care what his team ate, it could be American-style burgers and fries at every meal for all he cared, but eating enough to support this amount of training was the most important part.
He assured them, in the letters, that if they couldn't do it because of external circumstances, that was completely okay and did not mean they were off the team. Not wanting to do it was not an external circumstance.
He got about fourteen replies telling him that they were no longer interested in being on the team. He and Sirius had a good laugh over that one, so much that they included some of the better replies in letters to Remus and Wormy.
He had the best one hung up in his room.
"Dear James,
I had no idea you were absolutely off the rocker when I signed up for tryouts. I honestly just wanted to go for it and hope I got on the team. This is insane, though. If this is why your team is so good, I am happy to watch from the stands. I might recommend you to St. Mungo's, though. Nobody in their right mind would run more than a mile on purpose, much less after all of those squats and things. So I'm officially requesting to be removed from team tryouts, mostly because you're fucking crazy. I thought Evans was supposed to be the intense one! Anyway, I'll see you around, maybe. I'm not going to lie, you kind of scare me now.
Best,
Tim Callaghan, 3rd year"
It was in a frame.
Other good letters included "What the fuck, James."
That one didn't have a name on it or anything, but it had sent Pads into such hysterical laughter that James's mum had run in, thinking someone was injured. His friend had hung it in his room.
And as much as Sirius groaned to be dragged out of bed in the mornings, he said his brother had been a runner, probably still was, so he was kind of used to it. He refused to do as much as James, but still, he would let himself be forced into muggle athletic clothes and onto a broom at the crack of dawn, so he probably wasn't too mad.
He didn't talk about his brother much. James knew it hurt him to leave Regulus behind, and knew how much it hurt him too that the younger man was going along with their parent's teachings.
James had never seen Regulus. Sirius, when those two still talked, kept him like a secret. He said that Reg didn't want to meet his friends, and that he wanted to be able to bond with his brother on his own. And even if James did get a little jealous that someone else got to steal his best friend away from him so fully, he kind of got it.
He had never told Sirius this, but he was notoriously protective of his friends. Their little group of Marauders, they were all vulnerable people. Not that anyone else got to see it, not that any of them really wanted James to know, but he took care of his friends. And though he was an only child, he loved them all like brothers.
He was a mother hen, sometimes, but if that's what it took for them to feel loved and cared for when he was with him, then that's okay.
That's all James really wanted. For the people he loved to feel his love, to know that he wanted them safe and comfortable and happy. That, and to win the damn cup.
__________
This whole thing, or at least the running thing, had started in the spring. James had spotted someone running on the grounds and been absolutely taken. He knew that he looked a bit like a dying animal when he ran, all long legs hitting the ground wrong and his face gone blotchy, but this person looked smooth. Even from far away, he could see liquidity with which they moved, like it was the easiest thing in the world.
By the time they finished their run, leaning against one of the quidditch stands, James was pretty sure he was in love. He watched from his broom while they stood and stretched. From this distance, he could make out more features. The boy had a sharp, delicate face and curly black hair, and his pale skin glistened with sweat. The tiny shorts barely covered any of his long legs, lean but visibly corded with muscle.
The boy jumped when his broom came into view. James was aware of how he looked, practice robes on but smeared with dirt and a mess of hair thanks to the wind.
But the boy only watched him, carefully stone-faced as he approached. James stepped off the broom.
"Hi." He paused. "I'm James."
"Okay." The runner's grey eyes seemed to bore into him.
He found himself caught, reminded briefly of the muggles who pressed dead butterflies behind glass for decoration. He felt pinned up and hung to dry. He swallowed, ignoring the icy stare focused completely on him.
"Okay, well, I was just wondering about your running. Are you training for quidditch?"
"No."
"Right then, well, I'll be off, I guess. Nice to meet you..." James was tempted to glower right back at him, but opted for a soft smile instead.
The boy only raised an eyebrow.
"Never mind, sorry to bother."
His mind had drifted back to the play he had been practicing earlier before a soft voice surprised him.
"Call me G."
He felt his cheeks stretch into a smile as he glanced over his shoulder to where the boy - G - was twisting his fingers into the hem of the baggy t-shirt he wore.
He didn't miss the blush when he replied, still smiling, with "Bye, G. See you around."
His friends started yelling at him as soon as he got in the door. Sirius was the one to start it all, looking up from where his Transfiguration book was spread across Moony's legs in his lap.
"Boys, I think Prongsie here has something to tell us."
"...Not that I know of?"
Remus dropped his book and stared for a moment. "No, you definitely have something to tell us. I know you're over Lily, but you haven't smiled like that since she told you your hair was nice in second year."
"So who was it?"
"Nice question, Worms. Babe, pay attention. Now, my dear friend, answer our Wormy. Who?"
And at that point, since it was basically all over anyways, he had let himself flop dramatically onto the rug in front of his friends and start talking.
"His name is G, and I think he might be the prettiest boy in the world."
"Hey!"
"Hush, Pads."
"Not that you aren't divine, Pads, but this boy..."
Peter stood up. "Okay, I love you, James, but I've heard you gush enough. I know we're getting a repeat of this before we go to sleep at night. I'm going to head to the library."
Remus made a move to stand, too, but Sirius pushed him back down. "Nope. I want information and I want it now. Did you talk to him?"
"How else would he have gotten a name?"
"You know how James gets with a crush."
"Guys! Yes I talked to him. And he had just the nicest voice, he was so small but his voice was a little raspy, but I don't know if that's because he was out of breath from running or if that's just how he sounds, and he was rude but he blushed when I said bye so I'm pretty sure he doesn't hate me."
"Running?"
"Yeah he had on the little running shorts muggles wear! They couldn't have been eight cm."
Remus looked at him for one, calculating moment before he spoke. His voice was soft. "Prongs, you said he was rude."
Sirius stayed silent. Really, James should have thought before he spoke. Of course someone running, especially on the school grounds, would remind his friend of his little brother.
"You don't want to let this get too far. I know you see the best in people, but... please don't set yourself up for heartbreak."
His friend's face was creased with concern. "You got it, Moons. I'm sure I'll get over it."
__________
He had not gotten over it. And while having his team run was definitely good for them and it was his main motivation, the prospect of maybe seeing the beautiful runner again didn't hurt.
The locker room was mostly glares before tryouts. James knew he kind of deserved it, but he had taken to doing the broom training and the long runs to be in top shape. He had a team to lead, and by Godric he was going to lead it.
By the end of the first part of tryouts, a solid half of the group had been cut. People wanted to be a part of the Gryffindor team, but quidditch teams were small. If you weren't up to par, you didn't get in.
The group standing around him was made exclusively of very, very talented athletes. Each and every one of them had shown excellent broom handling and a knowledge of the game, and some spark of that competitive fire he liked to cultivate in his team. And all of them were looking up at him expectantly.
He clapped his hands together once. "Okay, so you should know that if you've made it this far, you have a serious gift. You have the mixture of talent, hard work, and spirit that we ask for on this team, and each and every one of you has a chance. All of you are serious athletes, and even if you get cut after this part of the tryouts, please know that I want you to come back next year and try again. You all have what it takes."
It was Marlene who shouted up at him. "And what exactly is the next part?!"
He couldn't help but smile at her. "I sent out the training plan over the summer. I hope all of you did what you could to follow it?"
A sea of grumbles followed that sentiment, but he plowed onwards.
"This next segment of tryouts is an endurance test. We saw the skill out there, and now we need to be sure that you can keep playing for as long as the game lasts. All of you know that this is an endurance sport as much as it is a technical one. So now," he waved his wand, pulling a cart full of trainers onto the pitch. "We are doing an endurance run. If you haven't learned yet how to change them to be your size, ask a sixth or seventh year to help you."
By the look of his face, Sirius was going to kill him. He started the team on a quick warm up series before he had the chance, talking them through stretches and exercises and why each one was important.
They ran laps around the pitch.
He had begun to enjoy running. It was like a little pocket of silence when the rest of the world got too loud. And so he took his team around and around again, adjusting his pace so he could jog alongside each individual and talk. He finished twelve laps of the pitch before his team was picked.
__________
Said team absolutely hated him right now, or at least pretended to. Sirius had very little sympathy, so he brought his woes to Remus and Pete. He told them about the team, about how strong they looked, about how everyone was capable of playing for hours straight if need be, about how they were so much better at focusing on their technical skills now and everyone was reliably balanced on their broom thanks to all of the training. He also shared how much he hated having the team grumble at him as every practice began and glare at him as they hauled themselves into the showers.
Lily pulled him aside, apparently having heard the whole thing. She seemed concerned. "James, you know the team doesn't actually hate you, right?"
He tried to think of something positive to say back. He failed. "Could've fooled me."
"They're tired and you're working them hard, but they all talk about how excited for the season they are. The only reason you don't hear is because you're always pulling people off to talk during breaks."
He tried to smile, but his face didn't seem to be too inclined to move. When he spoke, he knew his tone came out flat. "Glad they're excited."
"No, James, they're not just excited because practices go down, everyone can tell that the team is getting better. Even Sirius. He's just being grumpy because he hates not being good at things and he doesn't feel like he's good at the conditioning stuff yet. But nobody has quit. And nobody wants to, however much they joke about it.This team is already stronger because of you, and they all like you."
"Lils, I appreciate it, but if they liked me they would talk to me about it."
She shook her head. "You don't get it, do you? You seem so put together around them, like this isn't even hard for you. But the second year, Murphy, she told me yesterday about the little pep talk you gave her in the middle of practice. She sounded so in awe of you. And while the rest of us may know you're human, the new kids don't know you as anyone other than the incredible James Potter, Quidditch machine. They're scared, James."
He forced himself to take a deep breath before he moved. His hand landed gentle on the redhead's shoulder. "Thank you, I mean it. And I really appreciate having you on the team."
She smiled and spun away, making her way through the common room and out into the hall.
James had a few people to talk to.
__________
Sirius was first. He caught his friend in the common room, dragging him away from the cozy armchairs and over to a table.
"Sirius."
"Why did you drag me over here?"
"You know you can talk to me, yeah? About anything?"
Sirius looked taken aback. "Of course, Prongsie! You're my best friend!"
He smiled and nudged the other boy's foot with his own. "I'm glad. You just seemed a little out of it during practice these past few days, I wanted to make sure everything was okay. If I'm making things hard for you, let me know, please?"
He snorted. "You're making things hard for everyone, but that's a good thing. I'm not used to being pushed so hard like this in sport, you know? And I don't like feeling like I'm not at the top."
"Pads." He took a moment, forcing Sirius to make eye contact. "It's hard for me too. All the conditioning stuff, I mean. And this team is important to me but knowing you're okay is so much more important. You're my best friend, I love you."
"Love you too." He sniffed. "You know what, if not of Walburga's training I'd be crying right now."
"Fuck Walburga."
"Fuck Walburga."
__________
He called a team meeting at the beginning of the next morning practice, gathering everyone to sit on the benches in the locker room.
"Right, so I know I've been driving you pretty hard for the past few weeks, and I'm not really sorry about that."
Marlene rolled her eyes.
"Hold it Marls, theres more! What I am sorry about is not being upfront with you guys. I thought that I needed to be invincible for everyone, to not let it show when i was having a hard time. That was a mistake. I'm exhausted after practices too, and sometimes I really just cannot fathom doing the workout planned for the day. Yesterday I was so sore I had to take a break walking up the stairs to the common room."
"I saw that!"
"Thanks, Evans. Helpful." He barely resisted rolling his eyes. "What I'm trying to say is that you all can talk to me. If a training session is too much, if you need help, if you just want to vent, I'm here and I will listen. I want to hear what you have to say. Also, Today is going to be light, I know yesterday's sessions were insane."
"Captain?" It was the second year keeper.
"Yeah Murphy? And you can call me James. Actually, shout any name or most expletives and I'll look."
Her voice was timid, but she smiled at the comment. "My body feels like mush, please say we don't have another hard practice."
"Nope, Wednesdays are recovery days, and since classes start next week I was thinking we have our last hard practice tomorrow."
There was a collective sigh of relief. He looked around. "Have none of you caught on to my schedule yet?"
Lily spoke. "Yeah, Mondays are medium, Tuesdays are hard, Wednesday is recovery, another hard practice Thursday, easy Friday, one short but all out session on Saturday, complete rest Sunday."
"Of course you've figured it out, Evans. And Sunday as a rest day still works for everyone? Like I said, if anyone has a religious reason or anything else it shouldn't be Sunday, you let me know and we'll change the schedule around.
A sea of nodding heads.
He smiled at the group. His team was coming together. Murphy spoke up again.
"I liked the stretches we did last Friday, I felt way less sore after."
James felt his cheeks stretch with the force of his smile. This kid had barely spoken a word all preseason and was finally starting to come out of her shell a little bit."
"Good thing we're doing them again today then! Today is a short flying session to get the blood moving and reviewing some plays and then we're stretching it out at night practice. Slughorn had some big cauldrons he wasn't using, so we're doing ice baths at night practice too. Now grab your brooms everyone and let's get out there!"
Lily shoved him amiably on her way out. "You're doing good, Captain Potter."
__________
He didn't encounter the pretty runner again until Sunday. He didn't mention it to his friends, but sometimes everything was just too much. Being there for everyone, it's what he was good at. People joked that he was the unofficial Gryffindor mom, the therapist to his team and his little group of friends, but sometimes it felt less like a joke than it should. He had supported three people through crying sessions in the past two days.
And so when the world got too heavy for his shoulders, he went out into the Forbidden Forest and let Prongs take over. It sounded silly, but it was easier as a deer. He was still himself, of course, but nobody looked to him for answers.
There he stood, the edge of the forbidden forest, gnawing on a twig, when G appeared. He was slightly sweaty, but just as beautiful as ever. The black haired boy slowed to a walk as he approached the stag, clearly in awe.
James stood stock still, caught between bolting and inching closer to him. And then G was only a step away, arm reached forewords as if to touch. And James let him, let him place his hand against the quivering skin of his neck. He knew if he were human-shaped at the moment, his cheeks would be hot with a blush. He stayed still, letting G stroke once, gently, along his shoulder.
And then he lifted his head, looked at him, and walked slowly back into the forest. He paused, once he was deep enough into the trees that the color of his coat camouflaged him, and looked back. G was still stood there. He was crying silent tears.
He held an internal battle. On one hand, the whole reason he was here was to escape. He had made a life out of taking care of people, and he had decided it was too much. On the other hand, this boy needed someone. And James was many things, but first and foremost he was a shoulder to cry on.
He made his way silently behind Hagrid's hut, taking a moment to come back to his human form, grabbing the first thing next to him as an excuse.
"Hey, G."
He jumped a little. "James."
"You good there?"
The boy wiped at his eyes furiously, letting his face fall back into the closed, stony expression James recognized. "Yes."
He only shrugged. Some people needed time. "Okay."
"You're holding a piece of corn."
James looked down. "Um, yeah. For training."
G looked at him, head slightly tilted.
"If I can get the team to notice little abnormalities around them, then they'll be way more aware of their surroundings when bludgers are headed at them."
"And you chose a corn cob."
"Well, everyone knows corn is evil, so..." He smiled at his own joke, but G did not seem impressed.
"Hmm."
And idea came to him. "Hey, can you teach me how to run?"
The boy's expression finally cracked, his eyebrows shooting up comically. he schooled it back quickly, but James counted it as a victory. "You know how to run. I have literally seen you running with the team."
"You've watched our practices? How come I've never seen you?"
"Not the point. Why do you want someone to teach you how to run?"
James sighed. G quirked an eyebrow.
He adjusted his glasses before he spoke, deciding to be completely honest. "My shins always hurt after I run. And I feel like I'm doing it wrong, like my body just isn't falling into place, but I've been running since the summertime. And I've seen you run before. You look comfortable."
"Creepy, Potter. Maybe leave me alone?"
And with that, G turned and walked away. And if James felt like something had bruised his heart a little, nobody had to know.
__________
It was only Tuesday, classes had begun, and James had already helped three homesick meltdowns, two minor relationship crises (really one, since it was Pads and Moony, but since he helped both of them he called it two), and a sexuality crisis from Murphy ("It's completely okay to have a crush on a girl, Murph, but Evans is sixteen and you are twelve. You should understand that there's a big power imbalance there, so it's really not appropriate for anything more than a crush, yeah? I understand. No, I don't care that you're getting snot on my robes, it's okay.")
He couldn't help the fact that his heart skipped a beat when he saw G sitting in the library, Slytherin robes and all, but he tamped it down quickly. He couldn't handle another strange, combative conversation from the boy right now, no matter how delectable he looked in the perfectly pressed black and green.
He was halfway through his transfiguration notes when the smaller boy approached him. Everything about his posture screamed discomfort, but he was still picking his way across the reading table towards him. James kept writing.
"I'll do it."
"What?"
"I'll teach you how to run. meet me after dark on the pitch, wear muggle athletic clothes and your trainers."
James felt his cheeks stretch into a smile, fading just as quickly when the boy walked away. He needed a break, yeah, but he also needed to figure out how to do this. How to run, but also how to deal with his ever-growing crush on a boy who clearly detested him.
__________
James sneaks out the moment the sun goes down, changing into his muggle clothes in the deserted dressing room. He leaves his shoes off, carrying them in his hand and letting his socked feet feel the cool of the grass beneath. G joins him a few minutes later, managing still to look perfectly put together in a simple t-shirt and shorts.
The smaller boy doesn't speak at first, simply takes the trainers in his hands and turns them over. James tries his best not to notice the way the moonlight reflects from his face, turning him even brighter and more shadowed at the same time.
"How long have you been wearing these?"
"Dunno, year or so?"
"And you use these for just running, or?"
"Just going about when I'm home. Gardening, flying, the like."
G looked like he had smelled something sour. He made a sighing, grunting noise.
"What is it? I charmed them not to smell."
He looked skyward, like he was praying for someone to take him anywhere else. "No, it's just - the trainers you use for running should be just for running. Muggles have to buy new ones every 650 km or so. But..." he pointed his wand at the ratty trainers in his hand, watching as they firmed and re-shaped under his hand. "We have some tools they don't."
"How do you know what muggles do?" James's gaze was fixed still on the long fingers wrapped around the shoe.
"Just because I'm a Slytherin doesn't mean I'm prejudiced."
James felt his cheeks heat up, but the Slytherin cut off his apology.
"Try these on. I have a feeling they've been contributing to the shin problem."
He couldn't help but smile up from the ground at his new instructor as he tied them on. "You've got to teach me that spell."
"Adnoviatatem. Now, jog across the pitch, I want to see your form."
James smirks, reaching for the edge of his shirt. He wasn't really going to take it off, but he wanted to see G blush again. "Well, thats awfully foreword of you, but..."
"No!" Pretty boy almost squeaks. "Your running form! Go! Easy pace but not a jog!" The moonlight turned his blushing cheeks a shade of pretty, dusty rose.
When he comes back to where G is stood, the shorter man is nodding, seemingly lost in thought.
"So?"
"You're overstriding. Throwing your legs way out in front and landing at the heel, so it makes sense that you're hurting." He demonstrates as he talks, placing one long leg straight, leaning his heel on the ground in front of him. "It means your joints can't absorb the impact as well as they should, and you're practically stopping yourself with every step."
By the time they were finished, James had done so many drills comprised of odd steps and shuffles that he felt like he could barely remember how to walk.
G sat beside him, watching as he leaned forewords to stretch his hamstrings.
Sometimes, James wished he had a better brain to mouth filter. In his defense, it was fairly late at night, but still. He ended up saying things he regretted.
This was one of those times. He spoke in an almost whisper. "G, why do you dislike me."
The silence stretched on.
When the boy finally spoke, his voice was so soft that it he had to strain to hear it. "You remind me of my brother. We don't speak anymore."
James turned to face him. The other boy's eyebrows were drawn together, tempting him to smooth them with his fingers. He didn't. He matched the Slytherin's volume and tone, trying his best to be comforting.
"I have a good friend... I don't really know your situation at all, I'm sorry."
"My brother doesn't care that I'm gone."
"Do you do hugs?"
G looked at him, considering for a moment. His face kept the subtle flicker between the stoic, blank stare he always seemed to wear and something a little more raw. It was a tiny difference, but James saw it. A tightening at the corner of the mouth, a slight set to the eyes, the angle of his shoulders. "Not really."
"You know, I'm here if you need to talk to someone. I know we're not close, but..." He shrugged slightly. He was used to offering this to people, but it seemed more vulnerable with G. "I keep secrets well."
"Even from your little pack of friends? Yeah right."
"They're good friends, good people, but there's quite a bit they don't know about me. And I don't know your real name, so your anonymity is safe. But I understand if you don't want to."
Grey eyes found his. It seemed like a full year had passed before he spoke again.
"My brother left. Out of the blue. I miss him, but he's the one who left. He reached out, but I didn't respond. I couldn't. He left."
James nudged the other boy's foot with his own. An attempt to say 'I don't know what that's like, but I'm listening'.
He got a nudge in return. An acknowledgement.
"My friend... he got separated from his brother recently. He doesn't talk about it, but he still hardly comes out from under the covers on his brother's birthday. So I don't understand, at all, how painful it is, but I can see that it's painful to lose a sibling. And I'm sorry."
G only stood, offering James his hand. "It's late. Come back tomorrow, we'll see if we can work on that overstriding."
James stood, reveling for a moment of the feeling of the delicate hand clasped in his.
"Goodbye, James."
__________
Sirius gets a note delivered by owl at breakfast the next week. It's not one he's seen before, a beautiful grey thing that steals bacon from his plate. He looks like he might cry, but doesn't say a word. Nobody asks. He seems lighter, for the rest of the week.
G starts scheduling their meetings only twice a week.
On the nights he doesn't meet with his new friend, or whatever they were, James makes his way down to the pitch on his own, just for some time to himself. He practices the running drills and stretches and stares at the sky. He runs on a few hours of sleep and an absurd amount of coffee.
The thing about meeting with G is that normally, James doesn't know how to take the mask off. He usually can't be anyone other than who people expect, loud, a little cocky, unbearably optimistic. His close friends can see through it, to a degree, but it's only alone or with G that he finds it slipping away.
They've met, done some drills, some stretches for his tight hips. Those had almost killed him, the Slytherin's hands surprisingly warm against the skin of his thigh, holding one leg in place while manipulating the other into position.
He rolls onto his side to look over at the boy where he stares at the stars.
"G, why did you decide to trust me?"
Piercing grey eyes hold him still. He waits. "I asked you to leave me alone and you did. You saw me in the library and just went back to your notes. For all the reputation you have as pushy and loud, you didn't hound me just because you wanted something from me."
"Thank you."
"I sent a letter to my brother. We met earlier this week. Things are still weird but... he apologized. I did too."
James's cheeks hurt from smiling. To most other people, he would throw them into a hug, show his love in words and hugs and smiles. Instead, he just looked at his friend's profile in the moonlight. "I'm happy for you. That it worked out. I really am."
He got a small, shy smile in return. "I know."
It has become a part of their little routine. G talks while James stretches. He feels honored to know these things. He gets the feeling that nobody else really gets to see this side of G.
This whole thing, it was shaping up into a really good team. his forcing everyone to stretch and do their core exercises meant they could essentially hand off their brooms any which way if needed and pop right back on without an issue. And they were friendly and kind with one another, a team that clicked well and understood each others boundaries.
And the running helped too. When James brought helpful bits from his meeting with G, it seemed to translate. He didn't make them run anymore, since the season had officially begun, but the tips about torso positioning, about what to tighten and what to relax, they applies surprisingly well.
He liked to tease G that he was a secret Slytherin spy, feeding him false tips so his team would fail.
The smaller boy would push at him playfully, sometimes dragging him down to lie on the cool grass of the pitch, and ask how exactly his running tips were hurting the quidditch team.
"Well, now they'll get too good and get recruited before they finish here. Ultimate sabotage, really very clever."
And G would mock him. Tease him right back. It made something in him glow that they could be this comfortable with each other.
Sometimes, in the darkness of the pitch, James liked to imagine, just for a moment, that G was his. That if he really wanted too, he could roll over and kiss him, feel that shy smile against his mouth.
Sometimes, he found himself pathetic for fantasizing about his friend like that, felt disgusting, like he was taking advantage of the other boy's silent offer of friendship.
Sometimes, after we made his way back to his bed, he would lay there and stare at the ceiling and wonder why the universe had crafted him like this, into someone who gives his heart over so easily. When he was younger, he was told it was a gift to be so open and devoted. He had begun to think, on these ceiling-tile nights, that it was more of a curse.
__________
He's proud of making it three full weeks more until he breaks down. It all gets heavy. They're winning all their games by a huge margin, but it still doesn't feel good enough. His friends love him and try to support him, but he can't share the weight he carries, can't let them know that sometimes being there for everyone is crushing him. He's barely managing to keep up in his classes, finds himself dragged away frequently by Remus, Sirius, and Peter down to the dining hall for meals because he's so caught in his work.
And so showing up under cover of darkness, trainers on, he feels already like he's about to burst. Like everything he's been holding inside may just rupture him if only to find a way out.
He knows his form is sloppy but can't bring himself to care. G snaps at him and he falls to his knees.
He doesn't know why that does it, why his crush snapping at him is what breaks him, but he ends up on his knees at the edge of the pitch, sobbing. G seems shocked into silence and he feels awful for breaking in front of him, for dumping all of this pain right out at his feet. His sobs are too strong to hold back though.
Suddenly, someone is beside him, strong and warm, cradling him to their chest. It's the smaller boy's voice in his ear, mumbling something to hard to make out. They stay until he's left with just the pool of embarrassment and drying tear tracks down his face before the other boy speaks.
"For all of the leaning on you I do, I'm beginning to think it's time you let me know whats going on here too."
James shakes his head, eyes still fixed to the ground. "I don't want to be a burden, it's nothing, really."
"Jamie." A hand on his jaw turns him to meet those pale grey eyes. "It's not nothing. And you're not a burden. You're my friend, and I want to be there for you."
"It's fine, G -"
"It's not fine, Jamie. Talk to me."
And so he talks. It all comes spilling out of him at once, how Remus hates that his boyfriend is keeping a secret from him, but can't ask for fear of violating his privacy, how Pete, ever insecure, is afraid that Moony and Pads are going to leave them once they're comfortable announcing their relationship to everyone, and he doesn't name the rest of the people who lean on him. He's thinking though, of Murphy with her wide eyes and the beads on the ends of her braids and of Evans crushing hard on her friend, of the first year who found him in the hall and told him that he was going to be a great captain just like him someday, the pressure he had felt to be perfect. He lets go of it all, of the never-ending pressure of being open and kind and living up to all of these expectations, of just trying to stay afloat.
G just holds him. One hand is carding gently through his hair. He remembers, faintly, that G doesn't do hugs. It's almost enough to make him cry again, how desperately he wishes that this were how it always was, that he got to be cradled in these arms all the time.
But G just holds him. Hums in acknowledgement. Keeps running his hand through James's sweat-crusted hair. James doesn't mention that now he knows for sure he's screwed. He's in love. And, for the sake of caring for and protecting his love, it was something he could never tell.
__________
When Sirius asks the marauders to meet in an empty classroom on the fifth floor early enough that breakfast isn't being served yet, the last thing James expects is to see G there too, standing next to him. He receives a tight smile, but nothing more. He sits next to Pete, Remus on the other side.
And when Sirius speaks, the world drops out from under James's feet.
"This is Regulus. My brother."
Later, they will tell him that he got up and walked out. They will tell him that he looked at G, at Regulus, for a long moment, face tightening into something cold and unfamiliar, before he left. That he said "G.", with a nod and nothing more. They will tell him that he took the map off the table and stuffed it in his pocket and disappeared.
All James remembers is walking, almost running, brushing past people and feeling absolutely nothing. That's the part that surprises him most. He feels nothing. Not joy for his friends, not betrayal, not sadness of grief or the distinct anxious numbness he got sometimes. Nothing. He sits down on the cold tile floor of the locker room, in the corner of one of the showers, leans his head against the wall, and does not move.
__________
It's Lily who finds him like that, after the sun has long set. She looks at him for a long moment, touches the top of his head, just once, and walks away. She comes back with Frank. He does not know how long it's been. He does not move his head.
And someone must have given her the invisibility cloak, because Frank Longbottom is picking him up bridal style and letting Lily wrap them both under the cloak. He does not wonder until later how it hid both his 6'4 frame and all of Frank's hulking muscle.
What he does know is that he ends up in the girls dormitory, in Lily's bed, and there are voices all around him, hushed and nervous, like mice scrambling to get out of a cage. And that's when it hits him.
G, his closest and truest confidant, the boy he was so in love with that it hurt, was Regulus Black. And had been lying to him for months. And maybe in the beginning it had made sense, maybe then it had been a good idea to mask his true identity, but after James had shown him time and time again just how much he valued him? Just how much he loved all of his friends, the depth with which he was willing to give and give until he no longer could? And even then, past that point still?
And yes, it was G - Regulus - standing there outside the bed curtains. Talking with his brother, who was James's best friend. Everything came crashing in at once, the joy, the desperation, the clawing feeling in his chest that nobody would ever be able to love him as deeply as he loved them. And above all, the betrayal of it all. The feeling that as soon as he had really felt close to someone in an authentic way, they had lied to him.
He wanted to cry, to sob so hard they were ripped from his chest. But the tears didn't come. His face didn't move. He stared at a single strand of blonde hair stuck to Lily's pillow and thought, somewhere in the back of his mind, that it was nice that somebody got their happy ending.
She told everyone to leave. They left.
She crawled into the bed and closed the curtain behind her, hooking her ankle with his.
She was gone when he woke up, only a note left behind telling him that he could stay as long as he needed.
James Potter did not leave Lily's dorm for three days.
__________
The girls had all insisted they use something of theirs before he left. A cleansing, they said.
And so when he made it back to his own room, he smelled like Lily's eucalyptus shampoo, Dorcas's Floral body wash, and Marlene's clean bamboo perfume.
Remus is the only one in there. He just bundles James close to his chest. He murmurs in his ear about how scared they were, how glad they are that he's okay, at least physically. It's the last thing he says that really catches him off guard. "You spend a lot of time being there for me, let me be there for you."
"Did G - Regulus talk to you?"
"He explained the basics, said he wanted to talk to you first. You two have been meeting up in secret for weeks now, yeah? He said you were the closest friend he'd ever had."
James let his face fall back against Remus's shoulder. He almost hopes his words get lost in the soft sweater his friend is wearing. "I'm still in love with him, Moons. He lied to me and hurt me and I'm still so in love."
Remus stiffens. "You two were...?"
"No. Friends."
The arms around him tighten almost imperceptibly. "Oh, James. Oh, James, honey..."
And he knows. He knows he managed to tangle himself into a right mess, hurting all of his friends in the process. Remus's voice was shaky and thick. James just continued to lean against him, eyes closed.
Sirius didn't burst in in a flurry the way he usually did. The door squeaked open. His voice was something between broken and desperate. "Is he back, Moony?"
He ended up sandwiched between his friends, standing in the middle of the dormitory. It was James who drew back first. holding onto their hands tightly.
"I'm sorry, lads."
Neither of them said anything for a long moment. Remus squeezed his hand before he spoke. "James, Prongsie, honey, you don't have to apologize for your own pain. Reg told us quite a bit after you left."
Well shit.
"Yeah, and Prongs, you don't have to protect us all the time you know? We love you. We want you safe and happy just as much as you want it for us. Let us take care of you."
He knew his friends were trying to help, but days trapped in his own mind seemed to have dissolved his filter a bit. He crawled into his bed and pulled up the covers, turning away from them both. His voice was raspy from disuse. "Thanks."
"Yeah, no. You're not going to isolate yourself right now. We're staying right here, so it's up to you whether or not to talk. Pete's on his way."
They stayed silent for a full twenty minutes before James gave in. These three boys were his best friends, and they were offering him a release. The duvet stayed pooled around his waist as he sat up, but he kept his focus resolutely on the wall in front of him.
"When I met Regulus, he was running across the grounds while I was doing some last minute additional training, last Spring."
"The rude boy you told us about?"
Sirius looked like he went through every stage of grief in the course of about five seconds. "You called my brother the most beautiful boy in the entire world?!"
"Not the time, Pads! Go on, James."
He flashed Peter a grateful smile. "He told me to call him G. I didn't see him again until we came back for preseason, he was stopped at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, and he looked like he had been crying. He was prickly, said he was fine. I asked him to teach me how to be better at running, just because I wanted to be better at it, and he told me to essentially bugger off. Found me in the library the next day and told me he'd do it, so we started having training sessions a few nights a week. I don't know. I thought we were friends. He talked to me about you, Pads, though I didn't know it was you."
Sirius drew in a harsh breath at that. "You're the reason he reached back out to me?"
He shrugged but reached out, resting a supportive hand on his friend's arm. "I'm sure he wouldn't have done it if he didn't want to reach out. Plus, I don't know that I have that much influence."
"He said someone important to him implied it was a good idea."
"Oh." He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks.
"But you're angry with him for not telling you who he was?" It was Peter, perched at the end of the bed, who asked.
He tried for a smile, but ended up much closer to a grimace. "I'm not angry. I felt betrayed, yeah. I talked with him about some thing's I'd never spoken to anyone else about, not even you sorry lot. I really trusted him, not more than I trust any one of you, but in a different way. So I wanted him to be honest with me. And he wasn't even when I had been so genuine. So it hurts, but I'm not angry."
"...James Potter, are you in love with my little brother?!"
Pete distracted Sirius for long enough for Remus to drag him away, promising that they would talk him down. James slipped out and down to the pitch to get in some extra practice. He needed to clear his mind.
He had only been flying for half an hour or so before he heard his name shouted across the pitch.
He whipped his broom around, finding Murphy where she hovered hesitantly near the hoops. "Hey, Murphy. You getting some extra practice in?"
She, as usual, seemed a little shy at first. He gave his best encouraging smile. "Can you help me practice my saves? I feel like I've been late on the turn for some."
He darted over, grinning at the second year. "Of course, yeah! I need to practice my shots anyways."
Her return smile was wide enough to excuse his little lie. His heart felt just a little lighter up here, helping his teammate. Up here, none of the rest of it mattered. He didn't have to be perfect, he didn't have to be a captain or an exemplary student, he only had to be a mentor to this one kid.
At sunset, Murphy went off to go have dinner and James stayed behind to clean up the practice equipment he had pulled out. And to have just a moment on his own again before he had to go back to the real world, the one that he had managed to royally fuck up.
A familiar figure stood at the base of one of the stands. The Autumn chill bit at James through the layers of practice robes, but he dropped off of his broom in front of the other boy.
"Jamie." He looked like he might cry.
James was reminded of the day at the edge of the forbidden forest, too torn between leaning away and leaning in to do anything at all. He stayed rooted to the spot. Regulus took a step closer, so close to James he could almost touch their foreheads together.
"Regulus."
"Jamie, I never wanted to hurt you. i just thought at first, that you'd hate me for hurting Siri, and then we were so close and I couldn't imagine what i would do if you did decide you didn't want to be my friend anymore, and I just couldn't do it."
"Reg. I thought we were friends. You knew i had heard about you from Sirius, you knew that I knew of you, why didn't you just tell me? I want to know who you really are, under all of that. Is G who you are, really?" He couldn't bring himself to care about how raw his voice sounded. "Is that you? Or is that another character to know? Are you my friend, or have I fallen in love with a lie?!"
"In love?" His voice was soft and careful.
He turned away from the younger man, not even knowing where he was going, before a warm hand grasped around his wrist.
"James!! Jamie!" He let himself be pulled back into the line of those mesmerizing grey eyes. A soft, warm hand came to rest on the angle of his jaw, and Regulus rested his forehead against his own. "You've had my heart since our first conversation, so come back here. Will you kiss me, please?"
"Answer me first. Reg. Was that really you? All those conversations on the pitch, the lessons, that was you, authentically you, right?"
"You're the only person who's really ever seen me with my mask off. Talking to you was the only time i was never trying to be someone else."
James leaned in, letting Regulus set the pace of the kiss. He grabbed him by the hand on their way off the pitch.
__________
It took a full three weeks for James to ask Regulus to be his boyfriend. When he did say yes, or rather, 'Of course, you idiot', James had to actively focus on not becoming Prongs because he was so happy.
It had been a long time before he had felt that kind of joy, so powerful he could hardly remember what it felt like not to smile, but he seemed to feel it more often around Regulus.
Regulus called him a sap for telling him that out loud, but kissed him sweetly anyways.
"Your brother is going to lose his mind."
"Oh, this may very well push him over the edge. Should be fun!"