Author's note: Sometimes I think about the Marauders and get sad, ya know? I'm technically supposed to be writing the next chapter of the Lily Lives!AU, but last time I wrote a James Lives oneshot you all seemed to enjoy it; so I hope you enjoy this too!
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the canon, world, and characters portrayed below and you can tell I'm not J.K. Rowling because #transrights
Hogwarts: Assignment 8, Celtic Deities Task #4 Write about someone brewing a potion
Content Warnings: Mentions canon character death and grief; Survivor's guilt; chronic illness; low self-worth
That Would Be Enough
"You're still doing this?" Remus asked when he walked into the potion laboratory, freezing on the last step of the staircase that spiraled down to it. James looked up from the cauldron he'd been stirring—three times counter-clockwise, three times clockwise. Three times counter-clockwise, three times clockwise.
"I told you," James said. "If you don't want to see me brewing Wolfsbane, don't come down to the potions laboratory."
"I was coming to fetch your son since it's almost lunchtime," Remus said. He turned to where Harry was sitting in his playpen, hammering wooden blocks against one another. "Did you hear that, Harry? It's almost lunchtime, sweet boy."
Harry gurgled happily at that and crawled towards the edge of the playpen, knowing that Remus would come and scoop him up. Sirius had used his arsenal of Curse-Breaker strategies to make sure that the playpen was impossible to escape, which was why James was comfortable having Harry around with him in the laboratory—when Sirius was recovering from a night shift, and Remus was sleeping off a bad day. He had vague memories of his father doing the same with him, so maybe this was family tradition after all.
Regardless, the laboratory wasn't quite as disastrous as it could be—given James's usual disorganization and lack of focus. He wiped down the counters daily, he never left things on fire in the water bassin for long, he vanished the rubbish bin at least once a week, he usually remembered to clean his equipment, and he hung the equipment back on the corkboard wall—where his father had helpfully traced outlines to indicate where loose spoons, measuring cups, sieves, and other equipment should go. It had taken James time to readjust to living in the old Potter Estate again, even if Sirius and Remus had joined him so he wouldn't be totally alone after what had happened at Godric's Hollow. But the potions laboratory was a place James liked: it was a place to be busy not idle, creative not destructive…
"Are we going to reheat those mushy peas your Dada made for you yesterday or what?" Remus asked Harry. He reached down to pick up the little boy, and James didn't miss the way Remus's whole body winced as he leaned down and straightened back up.
Remus turned around, presumably feeling James's eyes on the back of his head.
"I'm fine," Remus said.
"I know you are," James said, Three times counter-clockwise, three times clockwise. "You're Remus John 'Always Fine' Lupin."
He kept on with his work, now reaching for the crushed violet leaves.
"What's that?" Remus asked, frowning."
"Violet leaves," James said. "It makes sense that they're on the ingredient list for this. I've been reading my dad's old notes and he wrote about how they're generally a good ingredient to deepen the effects of a potion, when you need a brew that will last a long time without losing its edge. Who knew, huh?"
"Plenty of people presumably," Remus said. He readjusted Harry on his hip uncomfortably. "Look, James… I'm glad that you're reconnecting with your dad through potions. I really am. And I'm glad that you're doing something that Lily loved and was brilliant at too. You genuinely look happy when you're down here, puttering away, and I love seeing you happy. But you don't have to brew me Wolfsbane."
"I know," James said. "But I want to."
"James—"
"It's a potion that will make your transformations safe and so much less painful," James said. "Of course I want to brew it for you, Remus. I want to brew it for you, bathe you in it, and pour it down your throat."
"It's a difficult and expensive potion, James," Remus said—pushing past James's nonsense with that slow, methodical, matter-of-fact voice he took when James's nonsense was particularly potent. "Don't burn through valuable and rare ingredients on my account."
"I don't think you understand how rich I am or why the Potter family has a fortune in the first place," James said.
"James, I'm not—"
"You're not what?" James asked, defensively. "Worth it? Remus, twelve years of friendship have proved that you're the absolute worst person to be the judge of that."
"Will you let me—"
"Do what? Languish? Suffer more than you have to? I don't understand you."
"This isn't about me, James…"
"Listen—my parents both died in a dragon pox isolation ward, alone and far away. And Lily…" James had thought he'd be able to get through it without taking a deep, deep breath after saying her name but he'd been wrong. So he took that deep, deep breath. "And Lily died alone, protecting our son, because I made a mistake about who to trust. I can't do anything about that. But I can help you so I will, and don't you dare try to stop me. I'd say that better men than you have tried, but there aren't many of those—which is the whole point of this."
He gestured to the isle in the middle of the laboratory where his cauldron had been boiling for days now as he fussed with the finicky Wolfsbane potion. Today it was a somewhat beautiful navy blue that made James think a bit of the night sky the potion would ideally protect Remus from. He'd added tiny cushion bush flowers yesterday; they looked like small, grey speckles that reminded James of stars a little bit too.
Remus sighed and put Harry back down in his playpen so he could come closer and wrap his arms around James.
"That's why, James," Remus said, holding onto him tight. "That's why I'm so opposed to you brewing Wolfsbane. You don't need to save me. You don't need to save anybody. You survived a war, you get up every morning, and you're the best father Harry could ever have. That's enough. Let that be enough for you."
James let himself relax against Remus and lean his head against
"Not that I disagree but that's not the point," Sirius said.
Remus was so surprised that he dropped James and nearly tripped over himself, scrambling away.
"Where in Merlin's name did you come from?" Remus asked, hand on his chest. "Aren't you supposed to be at work?"
"No, I worked overnight instead," Sirius said. "I was just sleeping over there."
"Is that… is that a dog bed?" Remus asked, staring at the corner.
"It's surprisingly comfortable, and it gets nice and warm in the potions lab," Sirius said defensively. "Plus I get to overhear all these beautiful heart-to-hearts. Remus is right, James. This is going to be tough to get across your mythologically thick skull, but you literally don't owe anything to anybody at this point, no matter how or why Lily died—not that it was your fault. But Moony, you self-deprecating twit, that's not the only reason why James is doing this."
"You were a dog twelve seconds ago, stay out of this," Remus said.
"It's because James fucking loves you," Sirius said. "And I love you. And Harry loves you. And presumably you love us or you wouldn't be around."
"I… yes," Remus said. "Yes, of course I do."
"Well there you go," Sirius said. "Let that ne enough, both of you. Remus, James doesn't want you to fester in your guilt and grief. Remus, James is literally just trying to make your life better because he can and so he wants to. Yes, I know—Merlin forbid that someone care about you, Remus Lupin, wretched werewolf who walks this earth shrouded in woe or whatever. But that ship has sailed and we're here now. Let the man brew the potion, you don't get to just turn on and turn off how much we give a shit about you. And after what happened in Godric's Hollow—after Peter turning on us and after losing Lily—we have absolutely no reason to be sparse about giving shits about each other. Let that be enough, both of you."
James was quiet for a second.
"You were a dog twelve seconds ago, how did you get all of that?" James muttered. Not that Sirius was wrong or anything. That made it worse.
"Lily showed me Bambi once and I've seen Remus's werewolf self in action," Sirius said. "I'm keenly aware that even as a dog, I'm the smartest one here."
"And the cuddliest," James pointed out.
"Exactly," Sirius said. "So can we all just cut the nonsense and agree to love each other and ourselves? And can someone please get my godson those mushy peas before he eats through that stuffed Niffler?"
"Right," Remus said. "Right."
"I've got him," James said. "Potion needs to simmer for a bit anyways."
He crossed the laboratory and scooped Harry out of his playpen.
"Merlin, little mate," James said, propping the baby on his hip. "That Niffler's so slobbering wet, I reckon you made it aquatic."
"Abadoo," Harry explained.
"Right," James said, gently plucking the stuffed toy from his son—bit by bit to make sure he wouldn't melt down. Then he dropped it back down into the playpen for later. "Then let's get you some lunch, little mate."
He kissed the top of Harry's head but froze after he'd gotten up only three stairs.
"Remus? Sirius?"
They turned back to look at him.
"I love you two," he said. "I… I'm happy that you're here with me. Helping me with Harry and fixing the emptiness and keeping me sane..."
"I love you too," Remus said. "Thank you… thank you for taking care of me."
James nodded. Really, they were all taking care of each other—the last three Marauders, the three who had survived together and who would keep on surviving together. Well, not just surviving. It would get better with time. They would all get better.
"I lubayu," Harry babbled in James' arms so beautifully James nearly dropped him out of pure joy and shock.
"Yeah," James said, laughing to himself. "Oh, yeah, Harry, you're so right. We love you too."
WC: 1662