Chapter Text
Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it. It was a mantra James held onto since he was ten years old and stole Teddy’s history of magic book for something to read. He was bored and grounded since he cut Al’s hair in his sleep. They had magic, so it grew back in five minutes, but for some reason, James was grounded for a week. Teddy left the book laying out and desperation can cause people to do insane things. He became incredibly fascinated and all he wanted was to learn more. The next time he saw Louis (free from his punishment), he told him everything he could remember from the book.
James was never able to see Louis as much as he wished. Like his sisters, Louis was sent to Beauxbatons Academy of Magic in southern France. It was more because of Fleur’s wish and Bill not caring where they went to school than their actual desire to be there. Dom hated it and transferred to Hogwarts in her fourth year, but Louis loved it at Beauxbatons. The only downside is how they weren’t together. That meant, in the summer, James and Louis spent almost every moment together. There was not a single moment one was seen without the other. Either at James’ house, Louis’ house, or Louis’ second house in France, they were together. What James knew, Louis knew, and vice versa. When James heard Louis speaking French to his mother, he was determined to learn it too.
Even now, as James did his homework for History of Magic, Louis was right next to him. They looked over the books together and worked on the assignments. History of Magic was never interesting for Louis, but James loved it. He loved learning about different events, how people have learned from the events, and how one simple thing could change the course of history. There was more to reality than people realized.
It wasn’t fate, but chance.
A chance that the right people met at the right time. For his parents, it was by chance that Ron and the famous, absolutely brilliant (not really — he was eleven) Harry Potter sat in the same compartment. Them meeting beforehand meant when Draco Malfoy insulted Ron, Harry knew immediately Draco was the wrong sort of person. Mainly because Ron had been nothing but nice to him, so he already had a vision of the type of person he was.
It didn’t seem that great at the time, but this would lead to dad and mom meeting, which meant James could be born. There were thousands, millions even, other small events that would take place that put Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley together, but that was beside the point. One small change could alter the course of history. Everything he read in his textbook, lines of ink taken as truth as important as oaths, was all because of small moments. Small moments that tumbled down a mountain of snow until it was an avalanche. Small moments become an important event that marks eras.
Louis didn’t seem to find that amazing at all. He pushed the book away and rubbed his eyes harshley. “I don’t think I can stand looking at these fucking pages anymore,” he said with the slightest whine in his voice. “I can’t believe you are planning on taking NEWTS for history.”
“It’s fascinating,” James protested, but set his book aside to stretch his back. His spine ached after sitting like a candy cane for the past two hours.
“It’s boring. It’s beyond boring, actually.”
“How can it be boring? The chances of us having the lives we do, of our parents ending up together and them having the friends they do. Of each of us being born and even the chances of looking the way we do, is significantly small. Everything is by random chance.”
Louis shrugged and collapsed onto his back. “I think it’s depressing. Don’t you hate learning about Voldemort?” Louis always said Voldemort funny, well, he said it how the French did, but that meant the same thing. The or sound was much more nasally, similar to having something stuck to the back of the throat, and he never pronounced the t . “It’s like all we learn about third year and on. On and on about the first wizarding war, and then the second where everyone looks at me once uncle Harry is mentioned.” Louis glanced his way and laughed. “Fuck, that must be worse for you.”
James made a sound of agreement. All anyone wanted to talk about was how he was the son of Harry Potter. About how he was James Potter . The comparison never stopped as teachers made remarks on how similar he is to his namesake. How he (James Potter original flavor) was brilliant, a troublemaker, fiercely loyal, and, above all, amazing. Too bad he was dead. They liked to say how James (the remix) made friends just as easy as his namesake. A stunning smile wherever he went that drew people in.
Scorpius Malfoy was right when he said everyone wanted to be friends with Potter, but nobody wanted to be friends with James.
It didn’t matter how many times Scorpius apologized for saying it, and how many times James assured him he was forgiven, they both knew the words never left James’ mind. They haunted him. The eldest child of the boy-who-lived and the formidable quidditch player Ginny Weasley. Named after two men who were always together until they were forced apart. James Sirius Potter; a disappointment to all three of his names.
“Do you ever wonder what it would be like, if Voldemort never existed?” James wondered aloud. Maybe he wouldn’t be named after two dead men; cursed to the expectations of those held in too high of regard. He could escape the pressure that sat on his chest, the pressure crushing his lungs and making him feel closer to death every minute that goes by. “A world where our parents aren’t traumatized and the lives of the generation before them saved.”
“Sometimes,” Louis whispered to him. “Mainly when I hear mom or dad wake up screaming. A couple times in history class, since nobody even wants to ask a question to our professors. I mean, they all lived through Voldemort; either the second time or both times.”
The days when dad goes silent. When uncle Ron can barely move due to phantom pains. When mom can’t leave her bed. When aunt Hermione won’t sleep.
How Teddy doesn’t have parents.
“Do you think we can change it?” Louis whispered it so quietly James thought he was imagining it; a stray thought from the depth of his mind. Something he had pushed farther and farther back anytime it came to front.
“What?”
“Do you think we could change it? Go back to before Voldemort was born, make it so his parents never met or something.”
“He was conceived due to a love potion.”
“I hate how you know that.” Louis propped himself up onto his elbows to look at James. His stark blonde hair hung in front of his eyes at an angle. Yet, James could still see his eyes. He could see the idea forming in Louis’ mind; sticking like gum to his brain. “We could go back and change it. We could get a time turner, find a way to enchant the sand to go back further. Keep his parents from meeting, maybe seduce or kill his mom or something.” James laughed at the vastly different options. “I’m serious!”
“Why are the options to kill or fuck Voldemort’s mother?”
“First thing that came to mind.”
“That’s concerning.”
Nonetheless, James was thinking about it. Louis had a habit of getting what he wanted. James always accused it of him being a veela. People fell head over heels for his smile. It was quite pathetic, but they could use it. Louis could get a time turner and James could play with the enchantments. He was always the best in his year at charms. Advanced at it, even, as Flitwick agreed to give him private lessons since he couldn’t turn down the opportunity of furthering James’ potential. Achieving his full potential, as Flitwick would say.
They could go back and fix everything. This wasn’t just about them, but about their families. It was about the people who died because of an egotistical man. It went further than their lives.
Even if they caused themselves to never be born, they both knew it would be worth it. In their eyes, their lifes did not measure to the hundreds, maybe even thousands, gone. Both wizards and muggles were killed. James didn’t mind not existing for them; might even be better than being James Sirius Potter: the disappointment.
“Yeah,” James murmured at first, before turning to Louis with faux confidence in his voice. “Yeah, let’s do it.” He held out his fist to Louis. “To changing history?”
Louis cracked a smile and bumped his fist with James’. “To changing history.”
It was, of course, a bit harder than they expected. Besides for the fact that James had never even seen a time turner before, research about them was hard to find. He had to find a whole different book about it as any book he currently had, or was in Hermione’s library, only talked about time turners for maybe a couple sentences. He went to store after store, mainly under the illusion of taking Lily to get ice cream or buying a present for Rose’s birthday (something he actually had to do, but didn’t want to). The book was hidden and incredibly small. It only contained about a hundred pages and could fit into his pocket.
While most of the time turners were destroyed in the 90’s, clearly it was a lie from the government as Louis showed up with a small hourglass necklace. There was golden sand inside; it glowed in all lightning and sparked beautifully to the eye.
“So how are we doing this?” Louis asked as he placed the time turner onto James’ bed.
“I don’t know yet.” He sighed as he crouched down and analyzed the small object. It was odd to think how such a small thing could cause so much destruction. Catastrophic consequences. “These are only meant to go back a few hours; there is only one known incident of a wizard going back years.”
“What happened?”
James’ eyes trailed from the bed to Louis’ face. His curly hair brushing against his cheek at the tilt of his head and a reminder of the haircut he desperately needed. “She died. In 1899, a witch was trapped for five days in 1402. When she returned to the present, her body aged five centuries and she died in St Mungo’s. Along with that, twenty-five people vanished in the present as they were un-born.” James smiled humorlessly. “Still want to do this?”
Louis didn’t hesitate. This is what made them best friends. They didn’t go back on their decisions. They stuck to what they believed and they did not waver when things became difficult. At this moment, James knew they had the same thought; the world would be better without Voldemort, no matter what happened to them and others.
“Absolutely.” James took out his wand and grabbed the time turner. The government had lowered the age to fifteen, after their OWLs, for wizards to use magic outside of school. He carefully took apart the time turner in the air and took two single grains of sand into the palm of his hand. “You have an idea?”
“A thought.” All the sand was sand, it was the enchantment that gave it power. The hourglass gave the enchantment a vessel, but otherwise had no use. The magic placed on the sand came off of it in waves and made James’ magic shake. It was overwhelming and he took deep breaths to keep himself stable.
Maybe it was the movement that caused time travel? The hourglass provided a concealed way to move the sand and an easily recorded way. There was a way to go back further in time, it has been done before, but the enchantment had to be strengthened and moved on a larger scale.
He took his two grains of sand to the dying plant on the windowsill in his room. He had neglected the flower more than he wanted to admit; Al had the greenthumb in the family. He dropped the two grains directly on the wilting leaves and watched as gold encased the flower. Before his very eyes, the flower bloomed and then unbloomed. It became smaller until it was merely peeking out from the dirt.
“That went back further than a couple hours.” James noted to Louis. “That’s months, and only two grains of sand.” His stomach clenched as he forced his magic to continue holding the sand. The enchantments on the sand were stronger than anything he had ever encountered. It didn’t feel like this when he merely held the hourglass. If he feels like this just by holding the sand with his magic, he should have been able to feel it with the hourglass. “The hourglass has a dampening spell on it. It’s the debasement caused by the hourglass that limits the time, the power, of the sand.”
Louis picked up the hourglass, held it tight in his hand, and tried to perform a spell. He pointed his wand at the pen on James’ nightstand and said in a clear voice, “ Accio .” The pen lifted off the nightstand, shook two feet and then fell to the ground. He looked at James, clear blue eyes hard with determination. “How many months did the plant go back?”
He sighed and hated his life for a second. Louis opened the time turner and James carefully guided the sand back into the container. They sealed it and Louis put it around his neck and under his shirt.
James didn’t know anything about plants, but he lived with someone who does.
There was one door in between their rooms. Something they loved as children as it was quick to get to each other's rooms, but something they began to despise as they both aged. Al hated hearing James in the middle of the night since he and Louis never slept. Instead, they preferred to cause trouble or play games too loudly. James hated how easily Al could overhear him and rat him out to their parents.
It wasn’t that James disliked his brother. He would kill and die for him, be the first to protect him, but he would also be the first to say he was an idiot. He would insult his brother for hours but punch the first person to say the same things to the idiot. Al wasn’t like James. Al was quiet, introverted beyond belief, and soft. The idiot would never admit it, he probably wasn’t even aware of it, but he was incredibly soft. The world would ruin him and it was James’ job to insure it didn’t.
James would burn the world before he let it hurt his brother.
He did two single knocks on the door before pushing it open. Scorpius was over, apparently, and barely gave James a single look. The blonde was looking through Al’s collection of vinyls to put on while Al ate a chocolate frog.
“Who did you get?” James leaned against the door and looked down at Al. For some reason, he had a preference for sitting on the floor.
Okay, so did James, but it was different.
Al held up the card between two fingers, an unimpressed look on his face. “Another dad. Is it too much to ask for a Circe?”
“Apparently. Do you know when aunt Luna gave us those flowers?”
“The one you killed?” James nodded. Scorpius set up a vinyl, a muggle band James didn’t listen to, and messed around with the volume as Al thought. “Probably around a year ago. She put an enchantment on them so they wouldn’t die quickly, so good job accomplishing that.”
“And how long would it take for it to go from a sprout to now? With the enchantments.”
Al’s rich brown eyes flicked up to James. James had been jealous of Al’s eyes for his entire life. They were big, almost doe like, and made people feel comfortable around him. Even if he didn’t speak an entire word, people still found Al approachable. He looked innocent. Never the one to mess around with potions and plants and cause an explosion in the boys bathroom. No, of course James would be blamed for that. After all, who would blame Al when his doe-eyes pleaded innocent.
The brat.
“What’s with the sudden interest?” Al questioned, an innocent look on his face but suspicion in his voice. “Not like you care about plants; your dead flower as an example.”
“School thing.” James brushed it off. “It’s for Louis.”
“That makes no sense.” Al turned and gave his full attention to James. “What are you up to, Jay?”
“Why can’t you just answer a simple question? I always fucking cover for you for every single fire you’ve started, but you won’t answer a question regarding plants for me?”
“Correct,” Al remarked with a dead face.
Anger crawled up his chest. Cruel burning fire pooling smoke in his lungs. “Forget this.”
To James’ annoyance, Al didn’t call him back as he left the room. No last minute answer or care for him. Wasn’t surprising, Al only cared about himself. He cared about what someone could do for him, never the other way around.
“Over a year,” James told Louis. Luna had given him the flower in full bloom, and if it has been a whole year, it would be at least a month for it to go from a sprout to a full flower. “I could get us to a rough time frame. I’ll examine the sand a bit more if you want to pack and say goodbye to anyone.”
“They won’t even know.” Louis said and pain squeezed James’ chest.
“No, but this is for the best.” Uncertainty seeped into his brain like a stain. “Right?”
“Right.”
It took another two days until they were ready. Louis found an hourglass at some muggle store and James emptied that sand to put in theirs. Without the dampening spell, this would give them the ability to go back further. It gave them more power, power so strong James could taste it. Two grains of sand put a flower back over a year, and Voldemort was born in 1926. They would be going back ninety-six years, so they would need either 192 grains of sand and one flip, or ninety-six grains and two flips. They weren’t sure what would happen when they did go back, as the sand disappeared when James dropped it on the flower. They decided to split it up. Forty-eight grains in the hour glass, flipped four times, and the rest in a pouch.
They had a plan — one that neither included seducing or killing Voldemort’s mother. They each had a backpack with clothes, a bit of money (in case it took longer than they thought), toothbrush, and a notebook full of notes he had taken from his history books of main points.
Breakfast was an odd affair. His heart was begging for a few more minutes with everything. More time with his mom before she went off to train. More time with his dad before he took Lily to her summer art class. More time with Lily. More time with Al.
He hugged each of them tight before they left. Harry pulled away with a worried furrow in his brow, but didn’t have time to do more than tell James he loved him before Lily pulled him away. Teddy wasn’t even here for him to say goodbye. He lived in his own apartment with his partner (it was for the best, he would never leave James alone after a hug like that). Al was confused but pat James on the back hesitantly.
“Are you okay?” Voice buffering, James nodded with a hum. “Okay,” Al whispered. He went to his room while James went to his own. Louis would be over in twenty minutes, and then this would all be gone. His life as he knew it would be gone. He could be gone and never even know it.
James considered the sand in the hourglass. He wasn’t stupid enough to move it around while holding it, but the glow was mesmerizing. He knew there was a reason for why wizards didn’t mess with time. Time was unstable and uncontrollable. There is no wielder of time; those who attempted had arrogance of gods and would be punished for it.
A true Gryffindor, he was.
“Are you ready?” Louis had a small pack over his shoulder and his hair tied up in a small half ponytail.
“As ready as I can ever be.”
“What the fuck are you doing?” His head snapped to the side, and there stood Al. Confusion coming off of him in waves and his wide eyes surveyed the scene before James could say a single thing. “Is that a time turner? How do you have a time turner? Jay, put it down.” He came forward quickly, faster than Louis could stop him and James could only put a hand to Al’s chest.
“Al, it’s okay. It’ll all be okay.”
“I thought you were going to fucking kill yourself this morning, and you don’t sound much better right now.”
“We’re going to fix things,” Louis tried to explain.
“Shut the fuck up Louis. You shouldn’t be encouraging this. Time isn’t supposed to be messed with. The effects could be catastrophic.”
His throat was tightening and air was getting hard to breathe. The magic from the sand was still affecting him deeply, stomach twisting and heart constricting. It was more magic than he could handle, as ever handled before, and a twisted part of him wondered what would happen if he could always feel this way. After all, a wizard’s magic came from within. Wands and spells were just vessels to control the magic.
Why should he limit his magic?
“Al, it’s going to be okay. We’re going to fix things.” Al’s head tilted, a clear look of explain? in his eyes. “We’re going to keep Voldemort from being born.”
It was silent for a long moment, so much so that James thought Al was going to approve.
“ What ?” He screamed.
Of course not.
“That is absolute insanity. Have you even thought about the effect this would have on the world? The people who won’t be born, the people who will be born, the lives this will affect. Doing this could make someone even worse appear in history who, like, destroys the world. James , you can’t do this.”
“I’m going to.”
“There is no way you will come out of this. You are the one who is always babbling about chance and the statistics of our lives happening are one in a billion or trillion or whatever. This is… James this is suicide.”
“I know.”
It was his first thought. A life away from being James Sirius Potter. A better world for others, and no longer having to exist. A world where nobody knew of him so nobody could grieve him. It was a win-win situation.
Al’s doe-eyes widened further, hurt brimming with tears as he looked from James to the hourglass in his hand. “Please,” Al begged. “You’ll destroy the world as we know it.”
“For the better,” James insisted.
He looked towards Louis and nodded his head. His hand left Al’s chest and he reached towards the blonde. Looking back on it, James would not be able to explain the series of events that caused this. All he knew is he was looking at Louis, hand reaching towards him, as he began to flip the time turner. There was a loud, “ No !” in his ear, and then he was falling to the floor. The time turner fell from his hand and, in a moment of panic, James lept towards it.
It broke.
Grains of sand went flying out over his hand as a body hit him. It punched air from his lungs as gold encased him. He could briefly hear Louis yell as the world around him changed. Even worse, looking down, there was Al. James muttered a curse and wrapped an arm around his brother protectively. He could beat his ass once they stopped moving through time, but he would not be lost to the time space continuum.
The idiot probably didn’t even have his wand.
When everything finished spinning, James was seconds away from throwing up. Al was ahead of him and was throwing up, luckily not on him, all over the ground. James stood up and looked around. They were in exactly the same spot as before, only, their house was gone. In fact, they were two miles from the outskirts of London in some sort of meadow.
Al looked up just as James grabbed his arm and apparated them ( thanks Flitwick ) to London. In the twenties, fashion was about elegance and sophistication as people copied what they saw on the big-screen. It was glitz and glamor while being simple. An oxymoron of fashion that the twenties challenged post-World War I. There was a romantic look to simple dresses. They would probably be seeing pinstripe suits on the men and flapper dress shapes on women.
So when James saw the punk and disco inspired clothes, bright colors, and trousers on most of the women, he cursed loudly and looked at his brother. “What have you done Al?”
Dark-eyes bugged and looked at James incredulously. “ Me ? I was trying to stop you!” He looked around, face tinged green. “Where are we?”
“London.”
“Fine. When are we?”
James scoffed and ran a hand over his hair. This was all wrong. They weren’t in the fucking twenties and what was he supposed to do with that. He had a plan, and now the plan was ruined. They weren’t even before the horcruxes, so he couldn’t just find Voldemort and kill him. He wouldn’t be dead. They were somewhere in the sixties or seventies.
He went and grabbed the first newspaper he saw, flipping off the man selling them and cursed when he saw the date.
June 04, 1976
He gave the paper back and relayed the date to Al.
Think think think , what could he still do? Even worse, they didn’t have a way back. The time turner was broken and Louis had the rest of the sand. Even if time was somehow still going for him, Louis had no way to tell where they were.
“Dad isn’t even born yet,” Al murmured to himself.
No, “No, but someone else is.” James whispered. Oh he thanked his younger self for always being the one listening to dad’s stories. “The Marauders, as dad called them, are around. This is before they joined the Order of the Phoenix; they would still be at school. Trouble-makers who will act as martyrs for what they believe in.” James could see in Al’s eyes the moment he realized what his brother meant. A smile spread across his face at Al’s disbelief.
“You’re not…”
“I am. They were trying to stop him the first time, we just happen to have more information. We know about the horcruxes, we know what they are, and how to destroy them.” His smile promised trouble, a smile that went up more on one side as he tilted his head. “C’mon Al, don’t you want to change history?” But that wouldn’t be enough. Al didn’t want to change anything. He wanted his life (as most would if they were not borderline suicidal). “Save dad from being an orphan.”
Got him , James thought when seeing the resolution in Al’s eyes. The kid had a tender-heart and could never bear to see his dad sad. It was probably the reason he went to check up on James; not care for his brother, but for his father.
“Fine. What do we do?”
“Let’s go to Diagon Alley. I have some money for somewhere for us to stay, for now. We’ll need to buy you some stuff, though.”
His soft-hearted brother instantly looked guilty. Guilty at costing James money and probably realizing now how he didn’t have a change of clothes or a wand.
“I’ll take care of it, got it?”
“But—”
“Al,” James interrupted. “I’ll take care of it.” He had to. It was his job. “C’mon, we’re going to draw attention with our clothes. We’re in London too, not a great place to not be white in the seventies.” He made it a point to look at Al. Al who had darker skin than him and stronger desi features. All the mixed genes showed in James. His skin looked more like a tan with dark auburn hair. He still had similar features to his dad, but took after his mom (and they assumed his grandmother) more. “You happen to be unlucky and take after dad more.” Unlucky for this time period, at least. He walked as he talked. Al didn’t interrupt and looked around in wonder. James would save the looking around for when they’re in the wizarding world again.
Besides, he would have to get a job. He brought extra money along, thanks anxiety , but not enough to sustain them through the summer. Especially since they would have to buy books, robes, and all other clothing. Other school supplies too. There was so much to buy and James had only brought seventy-five galleons, thirty sickles, and ten knuts. Of course, this would be a lot for a week long trip, but this would sustain them for maybe a week here. Especially because he didn’t know how much a room would be at the Leaky Cauldron.
The Leaky Cauldron was as crowded as normal. Being an in-between place between the worlds, it was an uncomfortable place to pass through with figures James did not trust. Many men and women looked their way, interest-filled whispers towards them. Al kept his eyes on the floor, but James would look each one of them in the eye if he could. He kept a firm grip on Al’s shoulder and pushed him through the pub quickly.
When at the front desk, James schooled his face and looked the man in the eye. “I need a room.”
“How long?”
“I’ll pay by night. Two single beds.”
“Two sickles a night.” Holy fuck, James forgot about inflation. This would be at least a galleon a night for his time. He didn’t question it, or even let himself look surprised, as he dropped the two coins on the counter. The man gave him the key and James led them through to the room.
Al was quiet through it all. Not quite concerning, Al was often quiet, but James was worried for his mental health. They were about fifty years in the past with only each other as company. He didn’t have a wand, which will be the next thing they do, and they would be risking their lives to destroy Voldemort before he can rise too high in power.
“We need to find a way to get into contact with McGonagall. Or, I guess, Dumbledore. We need to go to Hogwarts in the fall.”
“How?”
James looked at Al with a teasing smile. “Looks like we’ll have to brush off your French. We’ll say we’re from Beauxbatons and are transfer students. We’ll even change our names. We can use Delacour, it’s aunt Fleur’s maiden name. Also the only French last name I know.”
“You won’t be able to stop calling me Al.” He so could… it would just take time. “I’ll be Alex. What will you be,” Jay wouldn’t be a bad name . “Jay?”
“I’m not that uncreative.” He protested. “I’m… Jamie.”
Al rolled his eyes as Jamie dragged him out the door. “Yeah, because that’s so much better.”
“Shut up. Let’s go get your wand and then I’ll go get a job. We can go shopping for your new clothes later.”
“I’ll get a job.”
He scoffed, Diagon Alley was not a place for fourteen, almost fifteen, year olds to get a job. Especially not Al. He would be eaten up and spit out with the kind of people who stay around here. At least at the jobs that will actually pay.
“Absolutely not.”
“You can’t do everything, Jay.”
“You want to do something? Fine, you’re in charge of contacting Dumbledore and doing research on what’s going on right now. Pop culture stuff, so we don’t completely stand out. Work on your French, while you’re at it. Oh, also, we need to make up my OWLs. That should keep you busy.” It would take some stuff off of James’ plate. The pressure on his shoulders was increasing. He wouldn’t have to worry like this if he had Louis with him. Al being with him was a liability. He would never be able to focus without worrying if he was okay.
“You’re getting terrible on all of your OWLs.”
Working at Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour was better than he thought it would be. He was allowed free ice cream on his shifts and worked early afternoon so his mornings were always free. Most people he served were children and teenagers, but most were relatively nice. They could be a bit indecisive, but most allowed Jamie to choose ice cream for them. He only made twenty knuts an hour, but he didn’t expect much when a room was only two sickles at the Leaky Cauldron and Al’s wand was only fourteen sickles.
Mr. Fortescue was incredibly nice as well. Harry would talk about how much he appreciated him when he spent three weeks in Diagon Alley and Mr. Fortescue would talk to him and give him free ice cream. It was those stories that pushed Jamie to walk in and ask for a job. Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour didn’t exist in his time. Now (futurewise), it’s a cafe.
Around seven o’clock, as River (his favorite co-worker) came in to switch shifts with him, someone stumbled in through the door. It wouldn’t be too alarming if it wasn’t for the red staining his clothing. Black hair spilt like ink over his face blocked any other view of the boy. Jamie’s heart twisted and he waved River away to help him.
“Hi, welcome to Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream. What can I get for you?”
When Jamie started at Hogwarts, he spent weeks, months, practicing how to control his reactions. People found it amusing to ask an eleven year old if his father is cheating on his mother. They would ask if he could get his father’s autograph for them and other inappropriate questions about his parents. He could’ve gone to his dad (Harry Potter was a teacher at Hogwarts, after all) but he chose a different path. It would’ve been bad if he was labeled a snitch in the first week of school, and besides, he wanted to distance himself from the great Harry Potter. Instead, he stood in the mirror every day and taught himself how to control his expressions. He could display anything he wanted and react on the inside. Any emotion was hidden. From his face to his body, he was in control.
It was the only way he could control the gasp when the boy looked up.
His smile stayed in place, easy-going and calm, while his mind recoiled. Lacerations, both large and small, covered the boy’s face. Mostly-dried blood covered his chin and the small space between his mouth and nose. Bruises littered his right cheek bone, gathering to create a large, ugly black-eye. Jamie would bet ten galleons more bruises bloomed like flowers on the boy’s skin. Bruises laid on top of bruises and not even his silver eyes were spared. The left eye, a molted silver, provided an example of what they should look like. The right, however, was bloodshot and looked painfully irritated.
“Can I get an earl-grey and lavender in a cone?” The voice the boy spoke with was small and hoarse. Jamie didn’t even look at his throat with how bad his face looked. His poor neck had dark bruises around it, marks of clear struggle and strangulation.
“Of course.” Jamie scooped an extra amount for him and waved away his offer of money. “On the house, you look like you need it.”
The boy’s face dropped and anger marred the battered features. “I don’t need your pity.”
“Dude, you look like you had a house dropped on you, take the ice cream.” The boy hesitated but took the ice cream from Jamie’s outstretched hand. “If you need it, you can talk about your problems with me.”
“Why would I do that?”
Jamie shrugged as he took off his apron for the day. He created an ice cream cone for himself and a cup for Al. Al was boring and only ever wanted chocolate with raspberry syrup. Jamie tried something new every shift. Today, he tried chocolate chili with a raspberry syrup.
“Sometimes it’s easier to talk to someone you don’t know than people you don’t. I don’t know you, I have no expectations of you, and we likely will never see each other again. You get stuff off your chest, maybe even some unbiased advice, and I get an excuse not to head back to my brother yet.”
“Your brother will be mad if you let his ice cream melt.”
Jamie scoffed. “People eat the ice cream too fast to notice, but the ice cream doesn’t melt.” He smiled in the easy way people liked to see on his face. The way that had girls and guys tripping themselves over. The kind that made Louis call him a bastard and get a free milkshake. “Magic.”
With his ice cream in hand and Al’s in a concealed container, Jamie waved goodbye to River (and gave him a small goodluck). The silver-eyed boy followed Jamie out of the parlour and stuck to him like a shadow. Jamie walked until he reached some benches farther away from people and sat down. The boy sat down as well, uncertainty clear on his face but slowly began to eat his ice cream.
Jamie didn’t force him to talk. If he merely wanted someone to eat ice cream with, Jamie would be that person. He didn’t have his shift at The Green Dragon (a pub in Diagon Alley) until eleven. Al normally wanted to see him before that time as he wouldn’t be awake after Jamie’s shift there.
The Green Dragon wasn’t the nicest place in Diagon Alley (of course, not as bad as Knockturn Alley), but it hired for the most money. He was paid five sickles an hour, which was incredible but understandable with the absolute vile people he has to deal with on the regular. He also was given tips from customers, which can range. His stomach always twisted when the people who commented on how young he looked gave him the most. He found when he used a bit of makeup to make his eyes look bigger and more innocent (more like Al), he got more tips. It was another enforcer to keep Al away from places like that. He could deal with the creepy leering and suggestive comments (even if they are aware he is underage), but he refused to let Al deal with them.
Jamie was halfway done with his chocolate chili ice cream — not his favorite, but not the worst — when the boy opened his mouth.
“My parents disowned me,” and that’s when Jamie realized who he was.
He had only seen photos of the man. Pictures of him smiling and messing around, face clear of bruising with silver eyes sparkling. He heard more stories than seen pictures; there always seemed to be a lack of pictures. Jamie knew he would meet him and was unsure of how well they would get along. From some of the stories, he seemed egotistical, arrogant, with no regard for anyone’s well-being aside from his own. The stories made him seem larger than life. Loud, cocky, and god-like.
But Sirius Black was just a boy.
No smile in sight with his face battered, blood staining his shirt, and empty eyes. He was young, sixteen if Jamie remembered correctly, and he seemed so small . His personality reminded Jamie more of a skittish kitten than a lion.
Jamie hummed to let him know he was listening while continuing to eat his ice cream. Something in Jamie’s reaction made Sirius’ shoulders drop in relief and his body language opened up further.
“It was a long time coming, to be honest. I was never the son they wanted but… but now I was just… too much. I’m always too much.” He whispered the last sentence and Jamie’s heart twisted painfully.
“What’s your plan?”
Sirius looked up from his ice cream in shock. “What?”
“Where are you going to be staying?”
The boy, who was older than Jamie, shrugged. “I didn’t get that far.”
“Is there someone who could take you in?”
James Potter, Sirius’ best friend, was supposed to. If he didn’t, then Jamie could bring him back with him and Al. Him and Al could share a bed and Sirius could take the other. It would be a bit weird, but he was fifty years in the past talking to his grandfather’s best friend, he would get over it.
“My best friend probably would, but I don’t want to put that on him and his parents. They’re good people; too good for me.” He looked down again and his hair hung like a curtain around his face. “I’m poison; I destroy everything around me.”
“I doubt that’s how your friend thinks, and shouldn’t you let him make that decision for himself?” At Sirius’ silence, Jamie pushed a little bit harder. “He’ll find out you were disowned eventually; how do you think he’ll react if he finds out you kept it from him?” He tapped on the table and made certain Sirius was looking in his eyes. “It is not a crime to let people care about you.”
The thin frame of Sirius Black retracted, shoulders going up to his ears like a scared child. “You seem like the type of person who should be taking his own advice.” Apparently Sirius liked deflecting, that was okay, Jamie could roll with that. Harry always said Teddy deflected when it came to his problems, so Jamie had taken it upon himself to trap him and get into his head.
“But you have no way of knowing. I’m a complete stranger.” Jamie smiled again and Sirius’ shoulders loosened once more. “You don’t have to take my advice, but friends often like to take care of their friends. It doesn’t matter if you’re in a fight or are at the peak of your friendship, the good friends want to be there for you. Is your friend a good friend?”
“The best.”
“Then talk to him. Let him care about you. It is not weak to be vulnerable; it just makes you human. Hubris is the greatest weakness you can have.”
“Fuck, you’re right.” Jamie laughed, clear and genuine. “Oh, that’s what your real smile looks like,” Sirius murmured. Jamie covered his bewildered expression with a calm expression and only the slight turn of his lips. “Thank you.”
“Anytime. Now, if you excuse me, my little brother will gut me if I’m not back soon. He worries. You’d think he was the one with anxiety.”
He would have to prepare Al for seeing people they’ve only heard tales of. Sirius Black was already very different from the picture he had in his head (although, that may be because he saw him at his lowest).
Inside their room, Al breathed a sigh of relief when Jamie showed up. His own ice cream was half eaten but, true to his word, Al’s was still frozen, like it was freshly scooped.
“That took you longer than normal.”
“Yeah, I ran into Sirius Black.” Laughter bubbled out of him when Al began coughing, choking on a single bit of ice cream. “ Siriusly —”
“I fucking hate you.”
“He was just disowned and I convinced him to go to his best friend, James Potter .” The name was said with more venom than he meant to. He would have to control that soon. It wouldn’t do well if people around him thought he hated James Potter.
“Crazy.” Al stood up from his bed and opened their closet. “I got you something.”
What? Why would he… oh .
“I haven’t named her yet, I thought you should do it.” The kitten was a grey British longhair cat. She was incredibly small, couldn’t be older than two months, but she didn’t seem scared. Her eyes looked around the room curiously and lifted her nose to Al’s fingers.
“How did you even get her? I have, like, all the money.”
Al carefully took her from her crate and handed her over to Jamie. She was absolutely tiny with incredibly soft fur. Her eyes rivaled Al’s and a coo escaped his mouth without him realizing. She bumped her head against his chin and his heart melted.
“I did a bit of translating for some French wizards. They were insistent I take some money and then I figured I could do some more translation. I translated a book from French to English and Obscurus Books is going to publish it. I got some money upfront and I get a percentage of the sales. Not much, but some.”
Jamie would like to take credit for Al knowing French. For the first month they were in the past, it was the only language Jamie would converse with him in. Al knew some French from childhood, an unforeseen consequence of acting as Jamie’s shadow for most of their lives, but it was incredibly rusty. Now, he sounded closer to a native thanks to the accent they both soaked up like sponges when hearing Fleur talk.
“Thank you, Al. I love her.” His fingers ran through her fur without realizing it. The small heater warmed his chest further and he enjoyed every moment. “ Lilas ,” Jamie named her.
“Mom and dad’s wedding flower,” Al commented. “I miss them too.” Jamie held Lilas close, a pretty French name as appreciation for Fleur, but the meaning surrounded by the parents. For how desperate he was to get away from them, he can’t help but try to hold them close with memories as the only piece. “Happy birthday, Jay.”
Sixteen… he thought he would be dead by now.