Surprisingly, waking up from death was very much like waking up from a
dream.
James's thoughts flickered incoherently, bumping into memories and long dreams, in the thick darkness of sleep. Warmth filled every inch of his body under the pleasant weight of a thick quilt over him. He stayed that way for a long while, savoring the feeling of warmth of his forgotten dreams and the softness of his pillow, trying to focus flitting thoughts unsuccessfully. Languor pressed against his mind comfortably. After a moment of absolute, stifling contentment, James decided to open his eyes.
The first thing James Potter saw after waking up from death was a pair of electric blue eyes watching him with fierce intensity. He smiled through his sleep at the familiarity of the blue.
"Mmm. . . G'morning." James mumbled, blinking heavily, his mind quickly slipping back into the warmth of sleep.
Suddenly, a sharp pinch on his nose caused him to choke.
"Oi! Padfoot!" James growled, automatically flinging an arm out, but it was caught in mid-fling with familiar ease. Grumbling, James sat up and threw and annoyed glare in the direction of the offending pair of blue eyes.
Shock seeped into him as he saw the face of his dearest friend, older and more worn than he could have ever imagined, caught in a nervous, tight smile of exquisite pain.
"Sirius." James whispered, before snapping his head around. He suddenly realized the small, dimly lit room was full of familiar faces and a scent that was unmistakably Hogwarts. A sudden rush of blood to his head brought a rush of thoughts, colliding and confusing. He turned his attention back to the man who had his arm in a deathlike tight grip with a trembling hand.
"Is that you, James?" Sirius asked in a strained voice that seemed to crack under the tension of the room.
"Of course, you dolt-who else could it be?" James couldn't help but grin. He absently put his hand over Sirius's shaking hand, steadying it, as he looked around the room, picking out faces that brought back a truckload of memories. Albus Dumbledore sat in the corner with a quiet smile. McGonagall stood by a door, staring at James in plain disbelief. Next to her was Snape, frowning slightly. James offered a cheery wave. Snape left the room abruptly.
Madam Pomfrey was bustling around, muttering about medicines and rest, tears running openly down her cheeks. On the other side of his bed, there was a boy, a young man with dark hair sitting with his head down, seemingly absorbed in trying to tear a hole in his robes. A young blond who looked impossible familiar sat by his side. Behind them, a tired Remus looked apprehensively at James, then at Sirius.
Sighing softly, James picked up Sirius's still-trembling hand, and traced the lines of his palm lightly. "Could someone just tell me why I'm back from the dead?"
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James's thoughts flickered incoherently, bumping into memories and long dreams, in the thick darkness of sleep. Warmth filled every inch of his body under the pleasant weight of a thick quilt over him. He stayed that way for a long while, savoring the feeling of warmth of his forgotten dreams and the softness of his pillow, trying to focus flitting thoughts unsuccessfully. Languor pressed against his mind comfortably. After a moment of absolute, stifling contentment, James decided to open his eyes.
The first thing James Potter saw after waking up from death was a pair of electric blue eyes watching him with fierce intensity. He smiled through his sleep at the familiarity of the blue.
"Mmm. . . G'morning." James mumbled, blinking heavily, his mind quickly slipping back into the warmth of sleep.
Suddenly, a sharp pinch on his nose caused him to choke.
"Oi! Padfoot!" James growled, automatically flinging an arm out, but it was caught in mid-fling with familiar ease. Grumbling, James sat up and threw and annoyed glare in the direction of the offending pair of blue eyes.
Shock seeped into him as he saw the face of his dearest friend, older and more worn than he could have ever imagined, caught in a nervous, tight smile of exquisite pain.
"Sirius." James whispered, before snapping his head around. He suddenly realized the small, dimly lit room was full of familiar faces and a scent that was unmistakably Hogwarts. A sudden rush of blood to his head brought a rush of thoughts, colliding and confusing. He turned his attention back to the man who had his arm in a deathlike tight grip with a trembling hand.
"Is that you, James?" Sirius asked in a strained voice that seemed to crack under the tension of the room.
"Of course, you dolt-who else could it be?" James couldn't help but grin. He absently put his hand over Sirius's shaking hand, steadying it, as he looked around the room, picking out faces that brought back a truckload of memories. Albus Dumbledore sat in the corner with a quiet smile. McGonagall stood by a door, staring at James in plain disbelief. Next to her was Snape, frowning slightly. James offered a cheery wave. Snape left the room abruptly.
Madam Pomfrey was bustling around, muttering about medicines and rest, tears running openly down her cheeks. On the other side of his bed, there was a boy, a young man with dark hair sitting with his head down, seemingly absorbed in trying to tear a hole in his robes. A young blond who looked impossible familiar sat by his side. Behind them, a tired Remus looked apprehensively at James, then at Sirius.
Sighing softly, James picked up Sirius's still-trembling hand, and traced the lines of his palm lightly. "Could someone just tell me why I'm back from the dead?"
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