Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the show so please don't sue.
Warning: Talk of child abuse.
Stripping down to his boxers, James crawled under the duvet on his bed, blowing out the candle on the table next to him before settling down to go to sleep. He had just closed his eyes when the loud gong of the doorbell reverberated around the large mansion, waking up its inhabitants. Not bothering to dress, James followed his father down the winding stairs, and hung back slightly by the wall as his father opened the door, only to suddenly rush forward as he realised it was Sirius Black, his best friend.
The normally cheerful boy looked close to tears while the cold rain water trickled down his face and shoulder length black hair, sinking into his clothing, and causing the bedraggled boy to shiver as the cold settled into his bones.
'Sirius!' Harold Potter exclaimed before James could, 'quickly, come inside, we need to get you warm and dry.' He commanded, pulling the dark haired boy inside and allowing James to guide him to the kitchen while the older Potter took the trunk that Sirius had brought and pulled it inside before banishing it to James' bedroom.
'Who was it dear?' Anna Potter called down as she stood at the top of the stairs, her hands shaking as the normally do. She seemed small and fragile as she stood there, dressed only in a night robe. Her pale brown hair seemed almost blonde in the dim lighting blending into her pale face.
Harold was quite different with a deeper olive skin and black hair that, like James', seemed to stick up in random directions while his hazel eyes were framed by a pair of thin wired glasses.
'It's Sirius, he's run away, and this time I think permanently.' Harold answered knowing she wouldn't go back to bed until she had found out everything. Anna gave a sad smile before drifting away upstairs, only to return a few seconds later with a pile of blankets clutched in her trembling hands, but Harold knew better than to try and take them from her, she'd only tell him she can manage; she isn't weak or helpless. It always brings a smile to his face to see the fire in his wife.
The two of them enter the kitchen to see James trying to apply pressure to some of the bleeding cuts on his friend's body, whose wet shirt is now lying crumpled on the table, but only being able to attend to one at a time. Taking his wand, Harold dried Sirius off before applying heating charms to the blankets which James wrapped around him.
Anna took out a saucepan and began to pour a large amount of hot chocolate into it with her son's help while Harold used his skills as a Healer to get rid of the scratches as well as bruises and broken bones before allowing on to put back on his now dried tee-shirt. Sirius looks at him gratefully before finally allowing the tears to fall. Harold wrapped his arms around the shaking boy and held him, allowing all Sirius was feeling to come out while James came and sat next to the two of them, allowing his own tears to fall at what had happened to his friend while wrapping his own arms around Sirius' waist and buried his head in Padfoot's shoulder, not minding that his glasses were digging into his face, and causing Sirius to relax even more and accept the support he was being given.
Eventually though, the tears ran out, but no one was ready to let go just yet until Sirius finally pulled back, scrubbing at his wet face, noticing that James was doing the same next to him, although more discreetly as he turned slightly away.
'James sweetheart, could you bring over the drinks please,' Anna requested, breaking the silence that had descended heavily on the room. Her hands seemed to be shaking more than usual as she picked up her own half filled mug of hot chocolate and sat down across from the beaten boy, around the circular table. James did as his mother asked, after the first accident where she had burnt herself with boiling water, his father had banned her from carrying hot drinks that were filled, restricting her to half mugs of hot drinks, and either him or his father carrying the full ones.
Setting the mugs down on the table, each of them took one and accepted the warmth that filled them from the drink, allowing Sirius to talk in his own time.
'I ran away.' Sirius stated after a few minutes of staring into his drink, unable to look anyone in the face. 'He was after me all holiday; taking out everything on me whether I did something or not, he just didn't stop beating me, starving me on occasions. Even the bloody house elf did it.' His voice cracked at the end of his sentence as he tried to keep back the hysterical laughter at this. James placed a hand on Sirius shoulder, giving him a look that suggested he understood what he was talking about, a notion he quickly pushed away, after all, James had a perfect home life, how could he possible understand what it was like to be beaten and abused by his own family?
'Sirius, we've always considered you our son, even from the first day we met you; we have. We'd love it if you lived with us, permanently and not just for the holidays.' Harold told the boy seriously, sharing a smile with Anna and James, who nodded in agreement. Sirius looked at them in shock.
'You really mean it?' He asked as though he had barely realised he'd spoken.
'Of course sweetie, you're my baby, even if you were taken by those other people.' Anna answered. Sirius smiled, he'd always gotten along well with James' parents no matter how different they both were. Anna was always most caring with him, treating him just like James while being quite a quiet figure, as though one gust of wind could blow her over and yet often showed hidden depths. Harold on the other hand was more confident but was equally as kind and generous, and very often seemed to be able to read peoples minds as he knew exactly what they were planning or thinking, sometimes even before they did themselves.
'Thank you, thank you so much.' Sirius' words rushed out before he hugged both of them tightly, James smiled at how well they were accepting his friend and at the same time glad Sirius finally was going to get the love he needed and deserved.
'I think both of you need to rest now, it's late and it has been very stressful and tiring for you especially Sirius,' Harold told the two boys after catching each of them yawning multiple times. Neither looked to be about to protest.
'C'mon Siri, you can sleep in my room,' James offered as he took all of the empty mugs and placed them in the sink before Harold used wand to clean them and put them away. As his mothers magic was often erratic, her husband had eventually convinced her only to use it for emergencies, not that Sirius knew this, since most spells seemed to go wrong for her as she couldn't get the correct motion from her wand with her hands.
The two of them stumbled to the stairs, exhausted by the day and struggling to keep awake. Following James' example earlier that night, Sirius stripped down to his boxers and crawled into James' bed, a tradition the two of them had kept up since the first summer Sirius had stayed over. Neither wanting to put in the effort of putting up another bed, they'd shard a bed that night before the next night when Harold transfigured James' bed into two, the tradition had stuck, and Sirius was glad for it, knowing his friend would be able to wake him from any nightmares that may plague him.
They were just about to blow out the candle when the door of James' room creaked open; revealing James' father looking in. He crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, next to James who was nearest the door.
'I know you two probably think you are far too old for this, but if you have any problems tonight, any nightmares or just want to know we're here, wake us. We won't mind, just come to our bed, and I do mean for any reason, okay?' Sirius looked amazed at the offer, which brought fresh tears to his eyes. His parents had never done anything like that for him, if he'd had a nightmare, he had been firmly told it wasn't the Black way to complain about it and so he was on his own. So choked up, he could only nod in understanding.
'Sure Dad, we will; promise.' James answered.
'Good,' Harold stood up once more and kissed each of the boys on the forehead and ruffling their hair before wishing them a goodnight, blowing out the candle and leaving the room, quietly closing the door behind him.
'I...I...' Sirius tried to start but just couldn't think of the words to say.
'I know,' James nodded, a small but sad smile danced on his lips as he rolled over to face his friend. 'I couldn't believe it when he first told that to me, I think I was sobbing when he did though.' Before Sirius could ask what he was talking about, after all, Harold was James' father, surely he grew up with that offer; James was asleep. Following his friends example, Sirius eventually drifted off to surprising calm sleep for most of the night. Unfortunately James' sleep wasn't nearly so restful.
Sitting up sharply, the scruffy haired boy gulped in air, the sweat on his body causing him to shiver as the duvet slipped off him and pooled in his lap. He dug the heel of his hands into his eyes in an attempt to hold back the tears before reaching over and grabbing his glasses. Putting them on, he sighed when he saw it was three in the morning, far too early to be up, he was just fortunate he hadn't woken Sirius up with his nightmare. Slipping out of bed, he decided to take his fathers offer up.
He crept silently into his parents' room and shook his father, who after waking up, didn't look particularly surprised to see James there. He put a finger to his lips to motion he should remain quiet before taking a blanket that had been lying on the floor and took his son outside the room and slightly down the hallway so they were nearer to James' room before sitting down and placing the blanket over both of them.
'I had a nightmare.' James stated quietly, Harold nodded in understanding before wrapping an arm around the 15 year old.
'I thought you might.'
'I can't remember if it was real or not, but it felt it. It was Him and he was doing the usual and stuff, I just…' he trailed off. It wasn't the first time he'd had a nightmare like that, he was sure his father must have heard all the different variations of nightmares it could produce over the years, but this one had shaken him more than normal.
'I think what's happened with Sirius may bring back some of the worse memories, what happened to him was just too close to home.' Harold reassured the boy, holding him tighter. He hated the way the nightmares had plagued his son, but was thankful he'd been allowed into James' trust and been told about them, allowed to help the boy through them. Recently though the nightmares had faded, lulling most likely both of them into a false sense of security that they had gone. He supposed all they would ever really need was the right trigger, but it was good to know the haunted boy could have some rest every so often.
'Yeah, thanks for being here for me.' James sighed as he leant into the hold. He may be 15, but he still liked the security his fathers arms gave him, especially after a night like this.
'You never have to thank me. This is standard, I should be thankful you let me in.' Prongs met his eyes.
'You're my father, how could I not let you in?' Harold shook his head.
'I may be your step father, but I'm not your real father.'
'Yes, you are. Blood had absolutely nothing to do with being a father; it's your actions that mean you are. You are my father and nothing will change that, ever!' James shot back forcefully, as though daring Harold to argue back.
'And you're my son.' Harold told him instead, causing James to smile even more than when Harold had asked if he minded him marrying his mother, giving him a new father. Although they had a father son relationship, this was the first time it had been said that James was his son, it was normally step son if James asked directly, which brought to him more happiness than he though possible.
'Thanks Dad, you have no idea how much that means to me.' James choked out, twisting in the embrace so he could hug the older man. His father smiled.
'I think I have an idea son, I think I have an idea.' After a few more moments in silence, they stood up, James feeling a lot less shaky than before the talk. 'You feeling better now?' The younger Potter nodded.
'Thanks Dad, for everything.'
'I could say the same to you. Now off to bed with you, if you or Sirius needs to see me, my sleep is free to interrupt, okay?' James nodded, his eyes shining brightly, he was so lucky to have Harold in his life. 'Good night Jamie.' The older man kissed the top of his head before going back to his own room, James doing the same in the opposite direction. Slipping back into bed, he was relieved to see Sirius still asleep before drifting off again himself.
A loud bang woke James up the next time. Bolting upright once more, he hastily put on his glasses before noticing that he was the only one in the bed. Crawling over the rumpled blankets, he wasn't too surprised to see Sirius sat on the floor, shaking almost as much as he had been the previous night.
'Siri?' James called out softly before getting off the bed and sitting next to his friend, wrapping his arms around the boy in comfort.
'Sorry, didn't mean to wake you.' Sirius mumbled, still trembling, his eyes closed.
'Don't worry about it, I'd rather be awake than have you on your own.' James reassured him.
'I just…I just don't understand why they couldn't accept me for who I am, I'm their son, and they beat me; their own flesh and blood.' Fresh tears began to trickle down his face, but he didn't even try to wipe them away. James gave a sigh.
'I thin that's one of those questions you'll always ask yourself, but never get an answer to Siri.' James was forced to tell him regretfully. Sirius nodded in understanding but James continued as on his opinion. 'I think it could be that they are so caught up in blood politics and creating the perfect heir to continue the name they forgot about you being their son, someone to love. They were brought up like you were with little love and a lot of rules, so when you broke the rules they didn't know what to do.'
'You're defending them!' Sirius looked at him incredulously and in shock.
'No! What they did was wrong in every way and they had absolutely no right to do that to you, but it is a possible reason why they did it, that's all I can offer for an explanation.' The boy told his friend, not surprised at Sirius' reaction, after all, it was what he had done when Harold had had given him an explanation to what had happened to him those years ago.
'But how can you be sure? I mean, you have the perfect life; your parents love you and show it! You've never been beaten or hit by them or anything like that! Neither of your parents are like mine!' Sirius ranted, once again reminding James strongly of himself, they really were more similar than he'd ever thought before.
'My Dad grew up exactly like you did, without any type of love, but he didn't believe in their views and he stuck by it. He and his brother ran away from the house and went to live with my Great-Aunts who had always had a soft spot for them. And as for the perfect life…' James trailed off and moved away slightly from his best friend. He'd never told Sirius any of the things that had occurred before Hogwarts, hoping he could leave them there, in the past, but to help his friend, it may be best if he knew James really did understand what he was going through.
'James?' Sirius looked at him, concerned at where this was going. James got up off the floor and went over to his large bookcase, pulling out a very plain, brown notebook and gently throwing it at Sirius, who caught it easily. 'What is it?'
'Just read it, you'll understand. I'm going to go and start on breakfast, come down when your ready.' The be-speckled boy told him awkwardly as he pulled on an old tee shirt and jeans, planning on having a shower after breakfast. He hurried out of the room, leaving Sirius even more confused.
Opening the notebook, he read the first page, his eye's widening in shock at what he was reading.
Innocence. A child is supposed to be innocent, the ideal of innocence and perfection. So what happens when that lovely cocoon of blankets the child is wrapped in is torn away shoving them forcefully into the adult world? A word of cruelty and pain, a world that a child's eyes should never see; violence is a common occurrence and people who are supposed to love, supposed to care for you, can't fulfil their roles. What is a child to do when it is those people who are supposed to care for you who are the ones who rip those covers back so cruelly, allowing him to shiver in a world where he can no longer be a child, and yet will never be considered an adult?
Father. Is it a title one is awarded? You have had a child and so the name is presented to you or is it something to be earned? Wiping the tears from a child in pain, reassuring a frightened child when the monsters seem to be after them, being his knight in shining armour to hold back the darkness and showing his pride when his child learns a new skill or does something well. Those are the people who've earned the title Father. I have never called Him that. To me, he is Sir, my enemy, the man who causes so much pain, the man who causes so many of those tears a father would wipe away.
Can a person really be two so different people? Sir is. Everybody loves Sir, you can hear it in their voices, the pride, the admiration, yet we see the bruises, the tears, and the alcohol.
My Mum may have once been strong. The hazy memories of when she fought back. She fights no longer. He beat that out her so long ago. Now she smiles sadly, knowing one of these days may be her last, resigned to this hell she is now forced to live in. Mopping up the blood he forced from her, kissing my torn skin and murmuring those soothing words that heal my broken bones. She is my hope, my world, my reason for living. Those nagging thoughts that plague the back of my mind as I'm forced to watch that red essence escape my fragile body, the hope that this time I will not be forced to awaken and peace will take me at last; I must drive them back. She needs me as much as I need her, we will always be there for each other, we have to be, we are all we have. Books can only offer so much comfort and escape.
We escape as much and as often as we can, but in the end, reality will always win. Always.
Sirius' mouth opened in shock, Harold was always so nice to him, treated him like a son. He couldn't imagine him ever striking anybody even in anger. But James' words rang around in his head: Can a person really be two so different people? Sir is. But he said he never called him Father, only Sir, Harold has always been called Dad whenever Sirius was there and he had never ever seen him drinking alcohol.
The mention about books was of little surprise to Sirius, as he had quickly discovered James' loves for the stories. Sirius himself had never been a great reader, but after seeing how engrossed his friend was in them, asked James to read to him. His friend had a way of bringing the story to life, and so Tuesday evenings had begun when all the Marauders would stay in the dorm, and for a few hours James would read to them all, enrapturing them all into another world. Of course the rest of the school thought they were just plotting new pranks, little knowing they had done that in History of Magic earlier that day, and so their secret stayed safe.
What the hell was going on here? Sirius thought to himself.