Being James Potter
Chapter 1
Sometimes, he really hated being James Potter. Nobody would have believed it if he'd told them (after all, he was Quidditch Captain, popular, made top marks in every class, and was rich, to boot), and he would have never told anyone anyway, except Sirius, who would have called him a nutter, or maybe Remus, who would have nodded in that quiet way he had, and understood. But he didn't, because it just wasn't something they did.
There was someone else he'd have liked to tell, but he didn't think she'd care to listen. He played with the potatoes on his plate, pushed them around in an attempt to look like he was eating whenever Remus glanced at him, concern visible on his face. Peter breathlessly praised his latest exploits on the Quidditch pitch, recounting the game as if James hadn't been the one who'd scored a record number of goals and generally made life a living hell for the Ravenclaw keeper, and James wished he'd shut the hell up, but didn't have the heart to tell him so anymore.
He looked across the table to where Remus and Sirius sat, heads together. He knew that, under the table, Sirius was holding onto Remus's hand for dear life, grateful to finally be forgiven for his gross stupidity in sending Snape to the Shack a few months ago. Sirius had barely left Remus's side for the past two days, since Remus had offered Sirius a Chocolate Frog after Sirius had got another Howler from his mum. It wasn't that James was jealous, really. And he didn't care that Sirius and Remus were queer. He just wanted to have that kind of focus on someone -- well, he did have that kind focus on someone, and he glanced down the table to see Lily, who flushed and looked away -- he just wanted to have it returned, the way Remus seemed to reflect Sirius's brightness back at him, and Sirius's hard edges seemed softened, diffused by that reflection.
He shook his head. He was tired; otherwise he wouldn't be so soppy. He looked over at Lily again, whose attention seemed to be riveted to her plate, and he noticed that she was pushing her potatoes around as well, peeking out from under her lashes at him. He felt a foot connect with his shin, and when he looked up, Remus was nodding his head in her direction. He quirked his mouth in a half-grin when he met her furtive gaze, and she flushed again, the red clashing horribly with her hair. Maybe being James Potter wasn't so bad after all.
End
I hope you liked it. It was my first attempt at a fan fic. Please read and review so I can write more.