Previously in the Darklyverse: James watched from afar as his parents, who both had been infected with spattergroit, grew weaker. Over Christmas, James confronted his mum about his parents' codependency and admitted to her that he was involved in Liz and Millie's deaths.

Revised version uploaded 30 January 2022.

xx

March 3rd, 1978: James Potter

The news arrives in the form of a Ministry owl carrying a black envelope that gets dumped into James's pumpkin juice at breakfast. The second he sees it, he knows what it is; the only question is whether it's Mum or Dad whom James is supposed to be mourning.

The letter is short and to the point: the Ministry regrets to inform him of the passing of—

—of—

—James drops the letter with shaking hands, and it falls into his waffles and immediately gets sticky with syrup. Not both of them. It can't be both of them.

Can't it?

"Prongs, mate, you okay?" says Sirius, thumping him on the back, but Peter picks up the discarded envelope and says, "Padfoot…"

"They're gone," James croaks. "They're both gone. Both of them. I thought I had more time—if nothing else, I thought Dad would have longer than Mum would, since he caught it later—but…"

Sirius stops slapping him and shifts into a one-armed hug. Remus says, "It wasn't—they can't have been killed by Death Eaters, can they? They're purebloods, and they're not thought of publicly as blood traitors."

"It was the spattergroit. It got both of them this week. I…"

Peter reaches across the table and grabs one of James's hands for a moment. "I'm so sorry, Prongs."

"Whatever you need, you just let us know," says Remus.

"Thanks, man. Thank you all," says James. He clears his throat and wipes his eyes on the back of his cloth napkin. "I have to—I'm going to need a few days to make funeral arrangements and—and get their affairs in order. I'm going to have to miss Potions and History of Magic today. I should—I need to talk to Professor McGonagall and get permission to leave the castle for a while."

He grabs the letter again and stands up. He immediately feels like he's going to topple right over, he's so shaky on his feet, but Sirius jumps up and claps a hand on James's far shoulder. "C'mon, Prongs. You don't have to go alone."

So Sirius leads James up to the High Table, on the far end, where McGonagall is sitting and eating with Professor Sinistra and Professor Vector. "Do you need something, Potter, Black?" she asks, setting down her fork.

"It's—my parents are dead," James says weakly, holding up the letter. "The spattergroit got them."

"I—I'm so sorry to hear that, Potter," says McGonagall haltingly.

"I need a few days to take care of things. Can I—?"

"Yes, of course—you can use the Gryffindor fireplace to Floo home."

But James can't go home—he needs to air the manor out if he doesn't want to catch spattergroit, too. "Padfoot, can I use your place as a base?" he asks as they're walking back to the table, where Peter and Remus get up, too. "I don't want to get infected back there."

"Of course."

"The bodies are a biohazard. The Ministry will have burned them by now, I'm sure. It's probably mentioned in this," he says, brandishing the letter. He'll have to finish reading it to know what to do next. There are so many things he'll have to do to take care of business. So much work for people who won't be there to help out…

"Prongs, are you sure you don't want one of us to help you take care of matters?" says Remus.

At that moment, Lily and Marlene step into the Great Hall. Clearly sensing that something is wrong, Lily walks over. "Everything okay?" she asks with a frown.

He can't bear to say it again, but Sirius mutters, "His parents both just passed away," and Lily's expression morphs into one of sympathy.

"Oh, James, I'm so sorry," she says. She reaches up to hug him tightly around his neck; he loops his arms around her waist and allows himself a moment to fall apart with his face tucked into her neck before he gathers his composure and lets go.

"Sirius, will you come with me?" he says.

"Of course. Anything you need, mate," says Sirius quickly. "Let's get back to the common room. Pack our bags and read the rest of the letter. Okay?"

It's easier, having Sirius to tell him everything to do next. They make it up to the dormitory, each packing an overnight bag, and then it's time to read the letter to get instructions on what to do next. He sits down on his bed; Sirius sits next to him, keeping his hand on James's shoulder again.

He lost them both in one fell swoop. How could he have lost them both?

xx

There's some paperwork to take care of—he knocks it out at the Ministry this morning—but overall, there aren't a lot of affairs for James to have to get into order. The main thing is the funeral: going through his parents' address books, scheduling a ceremony at an event venue, sending out invites, writing a eulogy, greeting the guests, holding the memorial, sorting casseroles and sympathy gifts, mailing thank-you notes. Sirius keeps James moving forward, prompting him to choose stationery and phrasing for the invites, to choose between floral arrangements for the venue. He's not sure how he would manage to do all this without Sirius. Wouldn't manage at all, probably. Would curl up in his bed back at Hogwarts and never leave it.

None of the other Gryffindor seventh years (besides Sirius) were particularly close to James's parents—they got along just fine with them when James had them over during the holidays, sure, but he wouldn't say they had individual relationships with his parents—but Sirius insists on sending memorial invites to all of them. "This isn't just for your mum and dad; it's for you, too, and for the people who want to support you," Sirius argues. James goes along with it. It's easier to do everything Sirius says than it would be to make his own decisions.

He has no idea what to do about the eulogy—he knows he needs to write one, but he can hardly even think about his memories of his parents right now, let alone memorialize them like that—but blessedly, Sirius offers to write and deliver it instead. James doesn't want to be alone (ever again), so Sirius writes it while James is in the room, running sentences by him and asking for advice on word choice.

They schedule the ceremony for Sunday evening, so that James can be packed up and ready to go back to school on Monday. Like nothing ever happened. He doesn't have a clue how he's going to do it.

The sympathy cards start flooding in on Saturday. James doesn't know why or how the owls are making it to Sirius's flat instead of the manor or Hogwarts, but he doesn't question it. So many people, and yet James feels totally, wholly alone.

Lily ends up Flooing in that night to check in on him. He's sitting in the living room staring despondently at the floor while Sirius paces, holding his notes for his speech in his hands, muttering to himself. "James," she says, and she sits down next to him and lays her head on his shoulder.

"Thanks for being here," he says. It's the most he's said—all day, really.

"I can stay the night through the memorial tomorrow, if you'd like."

"Yes, please," says James without a hint of humor.

James is—to say he's surprised by how many of his current and former classmates turn up at the memorial on Sunday would be a dramatic understatement. Totally floored is more like it. All of the Gryffindor seventh years make an appearance, as well as Eddie, Benjy, and Frank from the Order; Mary's boyfriend, Reginald Cattermole; Gideon and Fabian Prewett and Dorcas Meadowes; and even Damocles Belby, which totally startles James until he remembers Belby's working relationship with Remus, figuring that Belby wants to be at least grudgingly civil by association, and anyway, the name "Potter" still commands some respect in pureblood circles.

Marlene seems to have set aside her issues with—basically everyone—for the night, politely asking Sirius where the restroom is and how James is holding up. For his part, James over and over thanks people for coming, tells them he's fine, tells them they lived happy lives and wouldn't want anyone to have regrets on their behalf. He doesn't really believe the words as they come out of his mouth, but everyone else seems to buy it.

Finally, seven o'clock rolls around, and James calls the room to attention. "My friend Sirius Black would like to say a few words about my mum and dad, Dorea and Charlus Potter."

Sirius pulls out his scratch parchment and looks anxiously around the room, where everyone has fallen silent and is eyeing him expectantly. He clears his throat.

"Charlus and Dorea were not my parents," he says, his voice sounding scratchy and raw, "but their son, James, is the best mate I have in this world, so we saw each other a fair bit during the holidays over the years since James and I were eleven." He loses his voice for a moment there, but he gets it back and gets himself under control quickly. "Charlus and Dorea may not have been my parents, but they were family, and that's how they treated me. Anytime I came round to meet up with James, I was welcome for dinner. But their kindness went a lot farther than that when I was sixteen: when I ran away from home, they welcomed me into theirs for the rest of the summer until I inherited a bit of gold and was able to get my own place.

"They were great people: Charlus was well-known and well-loved in the Ministry of Magic, and Dorea was a celebrated Healer. But they weren't just great: they were good, too. Mr. and Mrs. Potter—"

James hears Sirius break off, but in his haste to run out of the room and get away from Sirius's speech, he doesn't bother to stop and see Sirius continue. He knows he can't just Apparate off the premises, but he makes a run for the men's bathroom and locks himself hastily in one of the stalls, then buries his face in his hands and lets himself fall apart.

No one else comes into the loo for a good ten minutes, and when the door finally opens, it's Sirius. He can see Sirius's shoes as Sirius walks past the stalls and checks for feet. "There you are," he says. "I was worried you'd be out of the building completely."

"What, and miss out on bathroom confessional time? Never."

"People are going to start trickling away soon," says Sirius. "Did you want to come out so you can say goodbye to them, or do you want me to handle it?"

"I'll come. Just—just give me a second."

"Sure," says Sirius easily, and James can see his feet as he turns around and leans against the bathroom wall.

He thinks he's just going to collect himself and go, and he surprises himself as he hears his next words come out of his mouth. "I told my mum about Liz and Millie when I saw her over Christmas."

Sirius doesn't reply right away. "You—you never told me that."

"I didn't tell anyone that. I didn't know how to talk about it. It just felt—private, you know? Between me and her. But now she's gone, and I…"

There's another pause, and then Sirius says, "Are you decent? I'm about to break down your stall door if you don't come out here and look at me."

James forces out a laugh and opens the door. Sirius's face crumples, and he steps forward and hugs James fiercely.

"And I confronted her about Dad," James continues, his voice all muffled. "I told her I felt like he abandoned me when he insisted on taking care of her at home, where he could catch it from her."

"What did she say?"

"She said I was right. I asked her how not to be like that, and she said she didn't have an answer."

"James," says Sirius earnestly, drawing back and looking him in the face, "you are not your dad, okay? You are your own person, and if Lily or I ever catch you trying to sacrifice your life like a dumbarse just because you've lost one of us, we'll be on you faster than you can say Lumos. Do you understand me? You're going to be fine."

James laughs again; it sounds choked, strangled. "It's a little ironic, isn't it? The people I'm codependent with holding me accountable not to be—well—codependent."

"Shut up and come here," says Sirius, going in for another hug.

Most of the other Hogwarts students leave right away, but Remus, Peter, and Lily hang behind and don't seem to take it personally when James's words come out clipped and blunt. There's a lot of stuff to sort through—mostly food, though a few people brought photos that James tucks into the photo album he picked out for the occasion. There's no way James can eat all of these casseroles himself, so he and Sirius start on some of them for dinner and then bring the rest to share later when they Floo back to the castle.

He may not have heard most of Sirius's eulogy, but the bits he did are ringing in his head all night. Charlus and Dorea weren't just great: they were good. They weren't my parents, but they were family. He thinks about the last things his mum ever said to him—that she was proud of him, even if she didn't agree with his vigilantism.

How, how, is he supposed to go on without them?