Link to continuation: /works/10613394/chapters/23470500
December 1975
(James)
''I don't understand why you would tell me that, mum. I am always nice to her. I might not like her, but I do know how to act like a civilized human being.''
''Good'', said Mrs. Potter while checking on the bread in the oven. ''Use that knowledge.''
''No matter how much I love your sister'', James continued, ''it does not change the fact that her daughter is a complete pain in the a -''
''Language'', Mrs. Potter warned, but James saw in the reflection in the window how she could not help but smile a little. ''Your cousin talks a lot, like yourself. If you find her so horrible that you do not consider a nice family christmas is worth having to stand her for one day, you could have stayed at Hogwarts.''
''You know I would never do that to you, mum.'' James jumped up on the kitchen counter. ''You and dad would miss me too much.''
''You did it the past three years.''
''…so it was about time I came home, right?''
''I'm not complaining'', Mrs. Potter said, smiled and waved her wand. A pile of plates passed James head by a centimetre and flew out to the dining room.
No matter how much James loved spending Christmas at Hogwarts, there was something special about being back in his family home for the December holiday. He was not sure if it was the smell of cardemom, the sound of the radio that was playing Christmas songs twenty four hours a day, or maybe even the bickering about cousin Vilda, but everything felt a bit more real - a bit more like Christmas.
In the middle of Silent Night, the door bell rang.
''Please tell me it's not her already! You said they would not be here until tomorrow!'' said James and reached for an apple. His mother gave his hand a gentle slap.
''It's not them, and don't ruin your appetite. Dinner is in half an hour. Get the door, will you?''
''Fine. Just let me starve.''
James jumped down from the counter and went out in the hall to open for the unknown guest.
''What are you doing here?''
The boy stumbled in over the treshold. His clothes, soaked from the rain, left a puddle of water on the floor. His eyes were bloodshot, and James could not tell if it was from the rain or from crying.
''What happened, are you okay? You're not hurt or anything, are you?''
He did not get an immediate answer. A million other questions were running through his mind, but he chose to ignore them and pulled his friend in to a hug.
''I'm - I'm sorry'', was the first thing Sirius said. He was cold and wet, but James kept holding him.
''Shut up'', he said. ''Don't say you're sorry.''
He had been constantly worried about his friend since they said their goodbyes three days earlier - he had begged Sirius to come with him or at least stay at Hogwarts, but Sirius had been stubborn as always and told James that he made a promise to Regulus, and that he intended to keep it.
''I'm sorry'', Sirius said again. ''I didn't know where else to go.''
''Shut up'', James repeated. ''I'm just glad you're here.''
He let go of Sirius to step outside, grab his trunk and pull it inside. He closed the door behind him and the intense sound of rain faded. He turned to his friend again, and then he spot the giant purple mark on Sirius' cheek, right below his eye. By the time Sirius noticed that James was looking, it was too late - James had already reached out to get Sirius' hair out of the way and take a closer look.
''I'm going to kill him'', he said bitterly when he saw how swollen it was. ''I'm going to fucking kill him.'' Sirius looked away. ''Padfoot, do you want to tell me what happened?''
Instead of an answer, there were eyes full of tears. James put a comforting hand on his friends' arm and turned his head to the kitchen.
''Mum! Could you make some tea, please?'' He turned to Sirius. ''Let's get you warm and clean, shall we?''
''Tea?'' they heard Mrs. Potter's voice from the kitchen. ''But we haven't even had dinner yet!''
She showed up in the doorpost, and saw the boy in her doorway who looked back at her, scared and soaking wet. ''Oh, dear Lord…''
The woman, beautiful for her age, with the same brown eyes as her son, let go of the the cutlery she was holding and pulled Sirius in to a rib-cracking hug. James could see how Sirius was fighting the tears - Sirius, who always had to be the strong one, Sirius, who always had to be a champion.
''It's okay to cry, mate'', he said and put a friendly hand on Sirius back. ''We won't tell.''
He could feel that Sirius was now shaking. Mrs Potter, shorter than the boy, held him closer.
''You won't have to go back there again, Sirius'', she said calmly. ''I promise. You are safe here.''
James heard Sirius let out an involuntary sob.
''Th - thank you. Thank you.''
''James'', said Mrs. Potter. ''Prepare a bath and find some clean towels for your friend, will you?''
James nodded and disappeared up the stairs. He could still hear the voices from downstairs.
''Mrs Potter, I… I don't know what to… I'm so grateful.''
''Take a bath and put on some dry clothes. James will bring up some ice for you to put on that horrible blackeye.''
''Thank you, I…''
''Up you go'', she said. ''And you can call me Mia.''
When James came back after getting an ice pack and a cup of tea, Sirius was sitting on a chair in the bathroom, his hand playing with the warm water. He was wearing a white t-shirt, and James immediately saw the huge blood stains on his shoulder. After a quick decision to stay calm, he put the tea down and wrapped a towel around the ice pack.
''Here'', he said, forcing himself not to ask about the shoulder. ''Hold it to your cheek. And take your shirt off.''
''Prongs, I'm flattered, but I don't like you that way.''
''Not the time for jokes, Sirius. Let me take a look at it.'' He sat down at the edge of the bathtub as Sirius clumsily pulled the t-shirt off. James' stomach twinged as the wound was revealed.
''It's bad'', said James, trying to keep his face and voice calm, ''there are pieces of shattered glass. Does it hurt?''
''Nah'', said Sirius, and James ignored the lie. ''You don't have to do anything about it.''
''It's gonna get infected'', James insisted while he was looking for the right tools in the bathroom drawer. ''Just shut up. Or do you want me to ask mum? She'll ask questions.''
Sirius shook his head.
''I thought so'', said James. ''Sit still.''
With stable hands, he used a tweezer to pull out the small fragments of glass. Sirius stayed quiet, but James could see the muscles in his face twitching as he touched it.
''Are you sure it's okay that I just showed up?'' Sirius mumbled after a while. ''I mean, just before Christmas and everything.''
''Of course'', said James. ''We've told you a thousand times, the doors are always open for you here. And you heard mum. You won't have to go back there.''
''My mother wouldn't even let me in if I came back'', said Sirius bitterly, clenching his fist as James reached a sore point with the tweezer.
''You don't need her'', said James. ''I'll be your mother, goddammit!''
Sirius laughed. ''To be honest, Prongs, right now, you're all I got.''
''And hopefully, I will succeed in being all you need.'' Sirius let out a painful whimper. ''Sorry, did I hurt you?''
''It's fine'', said Sirius. He made a stupid attempt to take a look at the back of his own shoulder. ''Is it bad?''
''Well, it may look gross, but at least it's not very deep.'' James put some of the potion he had found on a clean tissue. ''This might sting a little.''
Sirius closed his eyes and bit his lip hard when James pressed the potion drenched tissue to the wound, but he did not let a single sound escape his lips.
''Done'', said James. He put the potion back and gently cleaned the tweezer. ''It's gonna be fine.''
''Thanks, mate'', said Sirius.
''Bathtub is full'', said James and put a gauze bandage roll on top of the cabinet. ''Wrap the wound with this when you're dry. Come down for dinner when you're ready, all right?''
Sirius nodded and smiled. James closed the door behind him and went down to the kitchen again.
''Is he hurt?'' said Mrs. Potter immediately while stirring her stew. ''I didn't want to attack him with too many questions as soon as he got in through the door, but I'm worried about him. Is he hurt?''
''A little'', said James. ''I took care of it.''
''Did he run away or did he get kicked out?''
''I don't know. He didn't seem ready to talk about it yet.''
''Oh, poor thing. I'm glad he showed up. I hate it when he's there.''
''Me too.''
James set the table and went up with Sirius' trunk to one of the guest rooms. The walls were plain and white - Mrs. Potter had always planned to make the room a little more homely, but other things had always come first. James made the bed with clean sheets and ran to get some of the Gryffindor flags and pictures of their friend group from his own room. He decorated the walls with them and put some pens from his dad's study into a mug and placed it on the desk. After he was done, the old guest room looked like a place where someone actually lived.
He went down again for dinner, said hello to his dad who was back from work, and after ten minutes, Sirius showed up in the dining hall. He was still pale and his cheek was still purple, but it was not as swollen as earlier, and his previously soaked, messy hair looked neat and tidy.
''Sirius!'' said Mr. Potter. ''It's great to see you, son, welcome! Sit down, eat something. The food is still warm, I think.''
Sirius lit up when he was greeted in this heartily way. He sat down at the table, not quite looking like he felt he belonged there, even though he had spent weeks with the Potters in years past.
''It's nice to see you too, Mr. Potter'', he smiled. ''The food looks amazing.''
''Call me Fleamont, boy, you're a part of the family'', said Mr. Potter and smiled back.
''You look like you haven't eaten in days'', said James, and his stomach twinged again when he realized he might be right. He loaded Sirius' plate with food and quickly changed the subject. ''We were just talking about dad's issues at work today.''
''This little kid was upset because his mother was too ill to come home for Christmas'', Mr. Potter told Sirius. ''Refused to move when the nurse tried to do her daily routine check-up with the patient. Wouldn't stop screaming. Poor Susanne almost had a nervous breakdown. I took the kid aside and tried to talk to him calmly.''
''And then what?''
''He calmed down and really seemed to listen!'' Mr. Potter continued.
''That's great, then, is it not?'' said Mrs. Potter.
''Until he threw a dungbomb in my face and ran away.''
James almost choked on his food. ''This kid is my idol!''
''James, it's not funny!'' said Mrs. Potter while fighting her own laughter.
''It's fine. Once I had gotten the smell off me - and may I tell you, it took a couple of hours - everyone just felt sorry for me.''
''I'm sorry to tell you, dad, but I can still smell it.''
''It's not possible'', said Mr. Potter desperately, ''I showered for hours and put on brand new clothes.''
''James is right, dear'', said Mrs. Potter while involuntarily wrinkling her nose.
Sirius laughed and his eyes met James' across the table. James smiled back, promising himself that no one would ever hurt his best friend with impunity again as long as he was alive.
After dinner and hours of conversation, Mrs. Potter insisted that Sirius should go upstairs and make himself at home while the rest of the family cleaned up the dishes.
''Mum, can I sleep in the guest room? I really don't want him to feel lonely. Not tonight.''
''Of course'', said Mrs. Potter. ''But don't get used to it - you two will just stay up talking all night.''
''We live in the same room all year 'round, remember?''
''Yes, and I do get weekly reports from Minerva McGonagall about your nightly adventures.''
''Anyway'', said James, suddenly eager to change the subject. ''Where is the extra bed?''
''Under the bed in the guest room'', said Mrs. Potter. ''I'll help you. You were right, you should sleep there - I remember he told me he gets nightmares after the holidays at home.''
''Poor kid'', said Mr. Potter while lighting a cigarette. ''I adore that boy. Good thing he finally got away from them - I met Orion at the hospital a couple of weeks ago. Horrible man. I pity his liver.''
''I pity his family'', said James.
''Hospital workers are not allowed to talk about their patients'', Mrs. Potter reminded her husband.
''What are we going to do?'' said Mr. Potter, ignoring her. ''With the boy?''
''Sirius is going to stay here'', said Mrs. Potter. ''With us.''
''As much as I approve, we can't do that, Euphemia'', said Mr. Potter. ''It doesn't work like that. There are rules about these things.''
''Sirius wants to stay, dad'', said James.
''It's not up to him to decide, and neither is it up to us. no matter how welcome he is here'', said Mr. Potter bitterly. ''Sirius is not seventeen yet.''
''As awful as it is, I don't think his parents would come looking for him'', James said. ''I really don't.''
''And if they do, then we report those monsters for child abuse and adopt him'', said Mrs. Potter sharply.
That settled it. There was no more discussion of the matter - Sirius Black was, and remained, a part of the Potter family.
James woke up that night, hearing panicked mumbles from the bed next to his. He soon realized that Sirius was talking in his sleep - his face was buried in his pillow, but James reached out to grab his hand. The mumbling soon turned into muffled sobs as the boy woke up, but James did not say anything. He stayed awake, holding his friend's hand, until he was sure that the boy had fallen back to sleep.