Chapter Text
JAMES POV
James was sitting at the dining table, ignoring his parents’ concerned glances . The thunderstorm outside roared like a dragon ripping the sky to shreds , but he was too enthralled in his own whirlwind of thoughts to notice it .
Unlike his parents, he didn’t jump when a clap of thunder shook the whole house. The china in the cabinet trembled. Raindrops hit the windows like pebbles, the house quivered under the force of the howling wind.
James glanced at the dark, stormy window before looking back down at his supper. He had barely touched it and was now pushing the bits of vegetables with his fork.
“ What’s the matter, Jamie? ” his dad said, barely audible over the clamour.
“S irius .”
“ What’s serious? ” his mum asked.
“ No, it’s about Sirius ,” he sighed. “ He hasn’t owled me in days. ”
“Mr. Potter chuckled. “Reckon that owls can fly in this weather?”
His mum reached for his hand. “James, I’m sure you needn’t worry. Sirius is a big boy!”
His fork clattered on his plate. “But you don’t know the lot he’s with. They’re complete nutters. And he was supposed to owl me five days ago...” His voice levelled off as he said it.
“I’ll tell you what,” his mum said intertwining her fingers. “If he hasn’t owled you back in two days, your father or I can apparate with you to his house.
James felt some weight lifted from his chest. He knew his mum was right; Sirius wouldn’t let anything happen to him without putting up a fight. And yet, he couldn’t help worrying. Owls were n’t the only way for James and Sirius to communicate. They both had a two-way mirro r that allowed them to talk more away from neighbours or household members’ prying eyes. The problem was that, in this last week, every time James had tried to call Sirius, he hadn’t answered. James wouldn’t have been worried if it were Remus or Peter on the line – they were probably busy. But with Sirius, it was different. He had never gotten along with his parents and, these last couple of years, his relationship with them had become downright hos tile. He had almost decided not to go back to their house during the summer holidays.
James couldn’t imagine what it was like to live in a place where you were constantly insulted, humiliated, beaten down, and treated like a worm. He had never seen it with his own eyes of course – Sirius would never let that happen –, but he had grasped enough of it through Sirius’ accounts that he always laughed off as it they were a funny joke.
James pushed his chair back. “I’m not very hungry.”
His dad sighed. “James, starving yourself isn’t going to make Sirius answer your letters any quicker. Try eating some more.”
James was about to protest when the doorbell rang . The tone seemed to resonate like a gong, louder than the thunder and pouring rain. The room went silent. James’ parents exchanged worried looks.
“Whoever is out there utterly mental!” Mrs. Potter said, breaking the silence.
They heard the door open. The gust of wind that pushed through the house made the hairs on the back of James’ neck stand up. The door shut with a slam.
A house elf scurried into the dining room. “Ma – masters,” she squeaked, trembling. “There’s a – a young man, he ’s wa – waiting in the foyer!” The three Potters froze. At the look of outraged shock on their faces, the elf’s trembling worsened. “He – he – ”
“Pokey! You let a stranger into the house!” Mrs. Potter shrieked.
Both Mr. And Mrs. Potter reached for their wands. Pokey covered her eyes with her long spidery fingers.
“P – Pokey is sorry, Masters. Pokey didn’t want to let the stranger in, but – but he was most –most persistent ! He – he stepped past Pokey and sat in the foyer. S – said his name is Sirius Black!”
James exploded out of his chair, causing it to fall backwards with a clatter. Pokey and the Potters jumped.
“Sirius Black?! Are you sure?! Did you recognise him?!”
“James, settle down please,” Mr. Potter said.
“Po – Pokey could hardly see his face, he was all bloodied up!” she sobbed.
“Bloodied up?!” That did it. James ran through the double doors where a corridor led to the foyer.
“James, wait! He could be a fraud!” his mum said.
He ignored her and barged into the unlight foyer. He heard his parents hurried steps behind him. At the sight of his friend, James’ insides gave a nasty pang. Sirius was sitting on a parlour chair , leaning forward, his hands clasped on his face while his hair and clothes dripped onto the carpet.
James kneeled in front of him. “Sirius? What in the bloody hell?”
Sirius was trembling. He wasn’t wearing a cloak and the rain had soaked right to his bones. James took off the jumper he wore over his shirt and co vered his friend’s shaky shoulders with it. Sirius looked up at James as a flash o f lightning hit his face. Sirius had a gash across his cheek and another one across his forehead that was still feebly bleeding, the crimson drops making his face look ashen. One of his eyes was swollen shut, but the other one was wide open in terror. James shut his mouth, knowing that Sirius wouldn’t like it if he reacted strongly to his injuries.
“What – what happened?”
“James, I can’t go back there.” His voice was barely a whisper . “ I’ve nowhere to go. I – I’ve nowhere to go !” His voice broke and his eyes shone with tears.
James had never seen Sirius look so vulnerable. He felt as though someone was standing on his chest, crushing it. He wanted to say something, anything. Anything that would stop Sirius from looking like this. He opened his mouth and his mind blanked.
“Sirius, I – I – ” He looked back at his parents searching for help. They were standing by the corridor, th eir eyes laden with anguish, looking as lost as he felt.
“James, I can’t go back there!” Sirius cried.
He dissolved into tears while his shoulders shook uncontrollably. The feeling in James’ chest was unbearable, but he wrapped his arms around Sirius’ shoulders and held on to him tight.
James was sat at the kitchen table, opposite Sirius, glancing at him whenever he wasn’t looking. Sirius looked much better than what he had two hours ago. James had given him some of his muggle clothes to wear and he was now sipping a cup of tea that Mr. Potter had brewed . His face had almost gone back to its usual attractive state. Mrs. Potter – who had a knack of conjuring healing spells – had mended his injuries quite well. All that was left of them were two thin white lines where the cuts had been and a circle of pink skin around Sirius’ eye which still looked a bit sore. Despite his friend’s healthier appearance, James couldn’t help the squirming sensation in his chest. He wasn’t thick enough to believe that a change of clothes and a cup of tea would magically make things better. He wanted to talk to Sirius, but he didn’t know where to start.
“So, er – ” James said tentatively. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”
“No.”
James frowned. “What do you mean ‘no’?”
“What you heard.”
“Sirius, you’ve got to tell me something, mate!”
“Fine. I got cross with my parents. I ran away. End of story.”
“Is that all you’re going to say?”
Sirius locked his eyes with James’. The latter crossed his eyes. “Listen, you can’t just barge into my house half beaten to death and expect me to not ask any questions!”
“You can’t expect me to give you any answers.”
“Padfoot, you’re not being fair,” James said in an accusing tone.
Sirius body stiffened. “Fair? You think I’m not being fair?” He slammed his fist against the table Damn it, Prongs! What’s the matter with you!”
“I’ve just been worried sick about you!” James said defensively. You haven’t owled me in days, you haven’t answered my calls either, and then you come into my house in the middle of the biggest storm with your face all bloodied up and you expect me to say nothing?!”
Sirius looked at him though narrowed eyes. “Do you reckon they left me any choice?” he hissed. They wouldn’t leave ma lone for a split second. The house elves tacked me down wherever I went! There was no p oint going near any of the owls; Kreacher would go fetching my mother! And if they had caught me using the mirror I might as well have said goodbye to it! Do you reckon this has been fair to me?!”
James opened his mouth to retort and then shut it. Sirius dragged the chair against the tile floor. “That’s what I thought,” he said, getting up and storming out of the kitchen without a backward glance .
James let his head fall on the table, judging whether to go after him or let him be. He went with the latter. He got up and dragged himself up the stairs to his room. Once inside, he flung himself into his bed hoping to fall asleep quickly, without bothering to change into his pyjamas.
When he heard a knock at the door, James didn't know what time it was – or who was knocking for that matter. He just knew that it was either very late in the night or very early in the morning and that he had barely slept at all.
He heard the knocking again.
He reached for his glasses and peeled himself off the bed. He opened the do or and last night’s events – which sleep had allowed him to forget at least temporarily – fell back onto him like a dead weight. Sirius was standing in the doorway, looking very small, something to which James wasn't used to. Sirius usually took as much space as he could. He would walk swaying his arms all over the place or lounge on every possible surface stretching himself as wide as he could. He even stood out i n a crowd. But this time, he looked different , completely shrunk , leaving an unsettling hollow in the space he usually occupied . He didn’t meet James’ eyes .
“Prongs, I – I – ” He took a deep breath to steady his voice.
James sat on his bed, wordlessly inviting him to come in . Sirius shut the door behind him. He looked around him with darting eyes, as if looking for a place to sit and then started pacing.
“James, I don’t know what took over me!” he said, breathing heavily. “I mucked it all up!”
James watched Sirius frantically pace in front of him while mutteri ng to himself. “Padfoot, look at me,” he said in a soothing tone. “Sirius, STOP!”
Sirius froze in his tracks and turned to James.
“Sirius, I want to help you! But you've got to tell me what happened.” he said, looking at him with pleading eyes.
Sirius took a deep breath and clenched his fists to make them stop shaking. “I – It's those bastards,” he s pat the words out. James immediately knew that he was talking about his parents. Sirius has picked up the habit over the last year of calling them by this epithet . “You know how they are , completely mental with that pureblood mania.” His voice bec a me steadier a nd he started pacing again. “They were talking about Muggleborns, and I walked in on them – but it's not like they've ever tried to hide their sick beliefs, they're always blabbering about how they think Muggleborns are scum – and they were using that word, th – that blasted word.” He clenched his jaw and paused for a moment, taking deep, forced breaths.
James’ brow furrowed. He remembered an eleven-year-old Sirius who used the word Mudblood freely, who thought himself superior to others who didn’t have the same magical heritage as him. He knew how hard it had been for Sirius to unlearn everything his parents had taught him and how guilty he felt about it now.
“And I – I don't know what took over me. I yelled at them; proper yelled at them. Told them they were the most repulsive, blinkered people I knew. Told them I hated being a part of their sick family a – and that I was ashamed of being a Black.” His hands started shaking again. “And my father got up and walked over to me – he was all red in the face, he looked at me as though I was the nastiest worm he'd ever seen – and he just slapped me. You should have seen the look on his face. He looked so proud of himself. He had this awful smile on his face... he enjoyed it so much he slapped me again, that bastard.”
“And then my idiot of a brother tries between us and my father just shoves him aside, without even looking at him. I look at my brother and he's sprawled on the floor,” he said , taking quick breaths. “And his hands are all bloodied up and covered in shards because he's fallen over one of my mother's hideous vases, a – and I don't know what happened, but the next thing I know is that my hand is aching like mad a – and that my father's cheek is glowing red and he's looking at me like he's about to kill me.”
“A – and after that everything happened so fast. My mother's is shrieking, but I can't hear what she's saying because my father's just punched me and my head is spinning and the next thing I feel is my back colliding against the wall. Then, my father, he starts throwing hexes at me and the cuts sting like hell, and – and – I wanted to protect him, James!” he said , running his shaky fingers through his hair, his eyes heavy with tears. Sirius could barely spurt the words coming out of his mouth. “I really did, but I couldn't. I – I couldn't stay there!” He sunk weak-kneed next to James. “So I legged it. I run as fast as I can to the door and I hear my father running after me, cursing. And I'm crashing into all the furniture, but I somehow make it to the door, I blast it open a – and I change into Padfoot and I just run.”
By the time he finished Sirius was trembling.
James was dumbfounded. He tried uttering an apology, telling him how sorry he was about all that had happened, how he didn't deserve the way they treated him, how he should have never let him go back to that bloody place, but the moment the words left his mouth they all seemed empty to him. The only thing that didn't feel meaningless was putting an arm around him and telling him that he could live with him, that this was his house now and that he could stay for as long as he needed. For as long as he wanted.