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"No," James said, not for the first time.
"Will you bloody think for two seconds?" Sirius screamed. He wasn't quite at the end of his rope, but he was getting there.
"I am thinking, and the answer is no."
"Everyone knows that you'd trust me to be your secret keeper. I don't mind the danger, you know I don't, I would do it for you a thousand times over, but if they kill me, then they'll be able to find you and we can't-"
"If they kill you, it doesn't matter if you're the secret keeper or not, I'll be dead anyways," James cut in.
There was a slight hitch to Sirius’s breath then, but this wasn't the time or the place to get into that.
It was never the time. It was never the place. They never talked about it.
James continued, "I only trust you with this. I know it's obvious, and I know that it's going to put you in danger, but like you said, you'd be in danger anyways. I don't-" He had to stop and take a breath before he could continue. He loved Sirius so much that sometimes it felt like he was choking on it. He wanted to meld their brains together so that there wasn’t the need for so many words. He wanted for Sirius to understand exactly how he felt, because anything less would be lacking for both of them. He needed for Sirius to understand his position. He couldn’t bear to think that Sirius didn’t know it. "I wish we didn't have to do this, but someone has to be the secret keeper, and I need for it to be you."
"You'd be safer if it was Peter."
He disagreed, but they'd already been over this, so he made a small concession. "Maybe I would, maybe I wouldn't, it doesn't matter. I trust you. I don't trust anyone else." Sirius was starting to look swayed, but he wasn't all the way there. So James pushed him over the edge. "Please. I need you for this, and only you," he whispered.
Sirius crumbled. The way he did it wouldn't look like crumbling to anyone else, but James knew him. "Fine," Sirius said, "but don't say that I didn't warn you. This is playing with fire, only instead of fire, it's your life."
"Don't worry so much," James muttered, yanking him into a tight hug. He held onto Sirius and waited until he started to relax. It wasn't much because there was a lot to worry about, but after a minute, he did lean into James and let himself breathe out. "Thank you," he whispered quietly-- so quiet that he wasn't even sure if Sirius heard him.
But Sirius gave him a small squeeze in response. It hadn't even been a question of whether or not he would be willing to do it. Sirius had been willing to do it the second James mentioned it. It was only after that, that he thought it was too obvious and tried to talk James into choosing someone else.
When they finally let go of each other, Sirius said, looking down at the floor. "I love you."
"I love you too," James said, and they both pretended that they didn't mean it the way they did. It wouldn't change anything if they admitted it now. James was married to Lily, and they had a child together. He was well committed. Sirius didn't want to break them up because they were a family, and despite himself, he really liked Lily.
Getting into the details of how they felt wouldn't change anything, so neither of them broke that silence.
Lily was glad that she hadn't been alive to see James fall apart. Perhaps it wasn't nice to think that, but it was the truth.
She'd known, from the moment she agreed to her first date with James, that there was a part of him she couldn't reach. There was a special part of him that belonged to Sirius, and Sirius alone.
She was glad that she didn't have to see James lose that part of himself. She wouldn't have known how to begin comforting him, and she would've felt like a failure when she tried and it didn't work. She did wish that she could've been there for him and for Harry, but she wasn't sure what good it would have done James, in the end. She could only imagine the way he would've cried, and she wasn't sure her heart would've been able to take it. When her and James got along, they were perfect together. But there were times when he would get sad, and she didn't know how to help. Sirius had always known how to help. Whatever mood James was in, Sirius always knew how to handle it.
She wished that Sirius was still alive. If he was alive, then she knew that James and Harry would be okay. With him being dead, she didn't know how they were going to make it. She had no doubt that James would try. He would try his best, but she wasn't sure if that was going be enough. James would have Harry to take care of, but he wouldn't have Lily or Sirius there to support him.
She only had a few minutes-- or what felt like a few minutes-- to worry about it. She could linger as a ghost, but the option was unappealing, to say the least.
She wished everyone alive the best, then moved on. There was nothing more she could do for them, and while a part of her rebelled against the idea of doing nothing, she knew that she couldn't reach them.
She hoped that James would be okay. Harry had enough people that would be willing to take care of him that she didn't worry about him, but James was more alone; he didn't even have Sirius. Lily felt that if he had Sirius, it wouldn't matter what else happened.
James felt like all he did was cry and hold Harry. Sometimes Harry would squirm out of his arms and walk around, but he didn't really understand why Lily wasn't there. Harry would get upset when he couldn't find her, and if James hadn't been crying before, he'd start at hearing his son wail.
He didn't know what to do. Much in the same way Harry would look for Lily and cry when she wasn't around, James would cry when he thought about when he could see Sirius next. He'd think something innocent to himself. Like, "Harry likes eating fistfuls of mustard, that's hilarious, Sirius would like to hear that." And then he'd remember that he couldn't tell Sirius because he was dead, and it was like getting the news all over again.
He didn't know how people moved past their grief. He'd mourned his parents when they died, but comparatively, it had been easy. His parents had been old, and they'd gotten sick. They'd been sick for over a month; he'd had time to get used to the idea and say goodbye. He'd been able to tell them thank you, and that he loved them. He hadn't had the same opportunity with Sirius. He didn't get to tell him how much he meant to James, or remind him that he loved him. He didn't get to hug him one last time, to savor and try to remember it for the rest of his life.
Every time he had to remember that Sirius was dead, it was like the first time.
He didn't know how to handle it.
He didn't know if he could handle it.
Time passed, and he learned that grief didn't go anywhere. At least, when it came to Sirius, it didn't go anywhere. Harry got older, and he stopped asking for his mother. He also stopped asking when Uncle Padfoot would come visit. Hell, Harry was able to talk in full sentences now. He didn't remember either of them anymore. James told Harry stories about them, but it wasn’t the same.
James missed Sirius every night and every morning. When his mind found a moment of quiet, Sirius was what came to mind. James missed him so much it felt like there was a hole in his chest. The pain never eased, and the hole never got smaller. James still turned to make conversation with him. It had been years, but James was used to Sirius being at his side. It wasn't healthy, but he hoped that he never got used to Sirius being gone. He didn't want to wake up one day and realise that the most important person in his life had faded away.
He didn't think about the future. He couldn't. He couldn't think about all the people Harry would never remember, and he sure as hell couldn't think about when he turned eleven and would go to Hogwarts. James had to take everything one day at a time, or he wouldn't be able to make it two hours. He would have a meltdown if he even tried to think as far as the next week, and Harry was far too young for James to have a meltdown; James was a lot of things, but he'd like it if he wasn't a shite father on top of everything else.
He tried his best. It wasn't much, but he hoped it was enough.
James didn't know what to expect when he threw clothes on and went to the Ministry. Dumbledore's message hadn't been very clear, but it sounded like Harry and his mates had been lured to the Ministry by Voldemort. Whatever was lying in wait for them wasn't going to be good, James just hoped they weren't too late.
He mentally prepared himself for the worst, and for the most part, it worked.
But there was one thing he never could've prepared for, and it knocked him out. A strong wind could've blown him over, and he wouldn't have even noticed. As soon as he saw the figure, he recognized that it was Sirius, and he froze. He felt weak. He was in a sort of limbo, emotionally. Hope roared to life inside him, wanting so desperately for it to be real that he couldn't dare run forward to check if it was him, because what if it wasn't? He couldn't take away that chance, however small it might be. His mind tried to rebel at the idea that it could really be Sirius. He was dead, he'd been dead for over a decade, and there was no reason to think that it was him. It was far more likely that it was some relative of the Black Family that James had never met who had an uncanny resemblance to Sirius.
But that theory didn't hold, because he was wearing Sirius's clothes. He moved like Sirius. James was too far away to hear him, but he would bet that it was Sirius's distinct, low voice talking. He was turned slightly to the side, so James couldn't get a clear look at his face; Sirius's expressions had been an open book to James. If he saw him head on, would he know automatically that it had to be him? That there was no other option for who-- or what-- he was?
"Mister Potter?" Hermione asked.
He couldn't tear his eyes away. "Yeah?"
"Do you know him?"
"I-" he swallowed thickly. Merlin, how he wanted to say yes, but what if he was wrong? What if this was someone else and it was only James's imagination that he looked so much like Sirius? It wouldn't be the first time. "I think so," is what he eventually said.
Hermione paused then said, "You don't look so good."
"Yeah," James replied numbly. He could believe it; it was like the muggle phrase 'you look like you've seen a ghost'. He was sure he looked pale and dreadful. For a second, he thought he was falling over, but it turned out he was walking. His feet were bringing him closer to the person that was probably Sirius. His mind was whirling in circles. It wasn't solving anything. He wasn't thinking through any of his ideas better, but his mind was jumping from thought to thought so quickly, it felt like he should've reached a decision.
Kingsley was the one that had been talking with him. When he saw James shuffling closer, he said something and pointed back towards him. The man turned and-
It was Sirius. It was definitely Sirius. There was no mistake about it, it was him, through and through.
James couldn't get his legs to move any faster, and his throat felt like a stone had lodged in it.
Sirius had no such problem. When he saw James, he smiled, relieved and overjoyed to see him, and he ran over. He barreled into James, throwing his arms around him and holding on tightly.
James had worried the force of it would knock him down, but he caught Sirius like he'd been prepared for it.
"James," Sirius breathed, and his voice was exactly how he remembered it. He said his name, and James felt something in him crack open.
He clung to Sirius and started to cry. He buried his face against Sirius's shoulder and cried his heart out, and Sirius held him for the entire time, whispering that it was okay, he was here now, and he wouldn't leave him again; it was exactly what James needed to hear.
He never wanted to let go.
When he did have to let go, he kept one hand on Sirius. He wasn't going to risk turning his head and not seeing him again. He knew that it was more than a little paranoid of him, but he wasn't going to take any chances. He kept one hand clamped on Sirius's arm, and then he talked to people like there was nothing odd about the situation. Frankly, they should all be thankful that he didn't have his arm around Sirius's shoulders the entire time, because that was what he'd prefer to be doing, but he settled for the hand.
Ron and Ginny went home with their parents, but Harry and the rest of his friends came with James and Sirius. Merlin knew that James had enough room for all of them. He didn't want for any of them to have to go back to Hogwarts with the state it was in right now, and they'd all accepted James's offer with a tired relief.
James couldn't say any of the things he wanted to say to Sirius until they were alone, which made the half hour of getting all the kids set up in rooms seem much longer than just thirty minutes. But the kids did eventually go to sleep, and then the only two people up in the house, were James and Sirius.
This was home for Sirius, and James had left his room open. There was no space to clear out for him so he could sleep, because it was already his. Sirius had never moved out. James and Lily had had to when they needed to go in hiding, but Sirius had been able to stay. James had never been able to bring himself to clear out Sirius's things; it would've meant confronting the fact that he was never coming back, and James hadn't been able to do that. And now, with Sirius back, this turned out to be a good thing.
They finally had a chance to talk, and James felt overwhelmed with all the things he wanted to say. So overwhelmed that he couldn't say anything.
Sirius hugged him again. He hadn't complained once about the tight grip James had had on his arm, even though James was a little worried that it would bruise in the morning.
James crumpled against him. Again. There was no shame in admitting it, because all he'd wanted for years was for Sirius to be back, and now he was. It was impossible, but he was. "I'm sorry," he managed to say.
"Sorry for what?" Sirius asked. He turned and pressed a kiss to the side of James's head, because he could.
"You got killed because of me," James muttered, guilt pressing down on him so fiercely his shoulders sagged.
"Don't be ridiculous. Do you remember when we talked about it?" He pulled back a little to look James in the face.
James looked back. He'd gone so long without seeing Sirius's face that it had felt like starving.
He continued, "You said that it wouldn't be my fault if you got found, and it's the same in reverse. Do you blame me for Lily dying?"
"Of course not."
"Then you can't blame yourself for me dying. Besides, I'm back," Sirius said with a smile. It wasn't an easygoing smile because there was nothing easy about this, but it had a familiar looseness to it.
"You're back," James agreed, swallowing around a lump in his throat. He didn't want to make a production out of it, but he needed to say it. "I love you."
"Yeah, I love you too," Sirius said softly.
"I'm in love with you." He swallowed again, looking at Sirius's shoulder because it was easier than looking him in the eye. "I know we never talked about it, but... I am."
"I know," he said, slowly rubbing a hand up and down James's arm. It encouraged James to meet his eyes again, and he did to find Sirius giving him a kind, understanding look. It made him soft around the edges in a way Sirius tried to pretend he wasn't, but he always was when around James. "It's the same for me. You know that, right?"
"I do."
"Then why were you nervous?" Sirius asked.
"I dunno. It's been years, maybe things had changed."
"It's been years for you. For me, it was yesterday," Sirius said, but it didn't look like his mind was on the words he was saying. One of his hands had worked its way up to frame James's face, and Sirius's thumb stroked across his jawline in small motions. "You look good. Sad, but good other than that."
"It was difficult to be happy when you were gone."
Sirius gave a sad smile. "Yeah."
"You should- I want you to stay with me tonight," James said. "Your room is as you left it, but I'd rather you stayed with me."
"You didn't touch anything in my room?"
"I might've moved a few things around, but all of it's still there." He'd gone in from time to time, wanting to soak up as much of Sirius as he could, and sitting in his room was the best way to do it. Sometimes he would put on one of his jackets and pretend he was right next to him. He'd tried to put all of it back when he was done, but sometimes he hadn't had the energy to set it right again.
Sirius looked unspeakably sad at that. "I'm sorry I couldn't be here for you. I wish I could've been."
"I wish you could've been here too," James said, blinking back tears. He’d cried enough for today.
Sirius kissed his cheek, catching the corner of his mouth. "Come on. You need to get some rest."
"You'll still be here in the morning, right?"
"I'll be here," Sirius promised.