It's midterms time, I feel like hell, I was trapped in an elevator, and it's bedtime. What better time for writing? Be warned, the focal point shifts occasionally, just go with it.
It starts as a twisting in the pit of his stomach and a funny tingling at the back of his neck. James ignores it and kisses Lily on the cheek and claps Peter on the shoulder before turning to his best friend.
"They're running late," he says apologetically, even though they have never been late. He is the one who always runs late.
"Of course," nods Sirius, scanning the crowd. It takes him a moment to notice Remus is still standing at his side. "We'll be alright, Moony. You can go." The golden-haired boy nods and walks off the platform, into the station.
The two boys stand side by side for a moment, watching as first years struggle to hold onto their trunks and rush to meet parents while looking over shoulders at their friends. A redheaded boy's trunk flies open, and James rushes over with too much eagerness to help him gather his underthings and books.
"Thanks," he croaks, awed by the presence of the Head Boy in his personal space.
James smiles his infamously dashing smile and the little boy instantly relaxes. "No problem, you see your folks?" The boy nods and James pats him on the back and carries his trunk to the red headed couple looking anxiously in the wrong direction.
Sirius smiles lightly as he watches James introduce himself to the boy's parents and apparently offer to take the trunk to their car. The red headed man shakes his head, so James makes a little bow and escapes back to his friend.
"It's a busy traffic day," he explains. "We… we should go find them in the station. Maybe by the car." Sirius simply nods and notices that James has run his hand through his hair four times in the last two minutes, and he's rubbing his fingers together as he talks rather than making explosive gestures.
The two wander meaninglessly through the station, James searching every nook and cranny, Sirius searching every crevice of his friend's expression. "Maybe we missed them," he finally suggests.
"Of course," breathes James, relief in his voice, "it was a silly idea to leave. They know where the platform is."
Sirius closes his eyes as they pass back through the divider to Platform 9 3/4. He knows by the disappointed whimper beside him that they aren't there. He expects James to stand there, or sit down, or begin to talk nervously about quidditch. He does not expect the swish of air and the blop as his friend goes back into the station.
By the time Sirius remembers to follow James, the boy is almost out of sight. He puts all his strength into an all-out run as he follows the blue t-shirt and jeans that is a rapidly retreating James. They weave through the station in a matter of minutes, Sirius making steady progress on the bespeckled teen.
It doesn't occur to James that Sirius might not follow. The tingling in all his limbs has become unbearable; he needs to run. He pounds through the meaningless hallways, listening only for his name on his mother's lips as she calls for him to stop. He bursts through the crowds, feels the texture beneath his feet change, but needs to keep running in time to the pounding of his heart. Someone is following him, but it is a comfortable chase, not a real pursuit. It feels like their moonlight nights in the forest, and James isn't afraid of being caught.
Sirius grabs his best friend's hand as they pass the parking lot and move into the streets beyond. Not a moment later, he feels all his limbs being contorted as they apparate to Godric's Hollow. He wonders for an instant if James has realized what he is doing.
James has no idea what he is doing. All he can think is home, home, home. He feels his limbs stretch and his rib cage contract, an extension of running. He lands on his feet, sees the car in the driveway and the lights off, and knows. He keeps running, running towards home, but he can feel his heart break into shreds and fall away behind them. Dumbledore catches him at the gate, but nothing is going to keep him from getting home.
Sirius watches James' fist collide with Dumbledore's chin and watches the bearded man fall to the side. It seems as if everything is moving in slow motion, and all he can think is James, James, James. His every sense seems enhanced, he can feel everything too much, and they tell him something is wrong. Something in the house, something magical. It is dangerous; it is wrong. And James is running towards it.
James is in the doorway when something picks him up. Strong arms hold him from behind and wrestle him away. He fights, kicking and clawing and jerking. He needs to go home. But the arms hold him tight, one around his waist while the other strokes his hair as they take him away. They whisper in his ear and he relaxes into the voice. It says "gone".
Sirius recognizes the feeling of dark magic and knows what it means. He grabs James and takes him away. "I'm sorry," he whispers and James screams in frustration, "they're gone, I'm sorry." It is a litany, a prayer, and he prays inside that he is wrong. But the feeling on his neck and the pictures behind his eyes tell him he is right. He holds James until the boy finally turns around and begins sobbing into his arms. He strokes his hair and holds him tight. "They're gone, I'm sorry." Sirius blinks away his own tears, and shakes his head when Dumbledore steps forward.
That is the moment when James loses control, when he knows what it means. They are gone; they are never coming to pick him up from the train, or see him graduate, or kiss his children. He screams, and sobs and loses all his air. He wants to hit and kick, but he needs Sirius close more. Needs the voice in his ear and the arms wrapped tight around him. Finally, his breathing calms a little and he nuzzles into his friend's shoulder to wipe away the tears. He stands shakily, Sirius' arm at his waist, and looks at the man with the half moon glasses. "My parents are dead," he says.
"Yes," says Dumbledore. Sirius closes his eyes for a minute, and sees everything is about to change. He feels James move forward, towards the man who knew. He knows James will want to fight, and avenge, and fix. Sirius takes a deep breath and does the only thing he has ever done – he follows James.