February
Same directions, same unassuming cottage. James stood in the late winter mud of the country lane. The members of the Order now hid from each other. Only a promise to deliver a message made it possible for him to stand here. Things had not been going well. Only Dumbledore knew everyone's location and by tonight, he would not be able to find Sirius again. But for now, he knew who waited behind that door.
James smiled as he squelched through the mud to the cherry wood door. The curtains moved as he approached and Sirius flung open the door. He stood there vibrant and alive. His incredible smile flashed in the darkness of the entry way. "James!" he waved excitedly for his friend to enter. James obliged, rushing in. Sirius rocked back and forth on his heels as he waited for James to climb out of his muddy boots and black coat.
The house smelled of sweet spices. Someone had been baking. "It smells lovely in here. Are you cooking?" James asked as he hung up his coat.
"Me? No. I just arrived. Whoever lives here left a moment ago. They set out a wonderful trifle." James laughed at the eager look on his friend's pale face.
"A trifle?" Sirius nodded. "Alright then," he sighed and shook his head as Sirius led the way into the back of the house. A breakfast nook looked out over the back garden. James sat on one side of the table. Sirius brought over dessert cups and spoons. He sat down opposite James. Raspberries and rum. James took a small bite.
They ate in silence, smiling at one another. James wrapped himself up in Sirius' happiness. It was his own Patronus against the evil that had befallen their world. He sighed. "If only we could sit here forever," he whispered. His smile turned sad. Sirius' own smile faltered.
"Don't James," he shook his head. "Let's just eat. Let's talk like we used to.' James smiled again, forcing it to stay.
"Sorry, Padfoot. You're right." They lapsed into silence. It was easy enough to say "let's pretend". It was another to actually do it. Let's pretend Voldemort isn't attacking wizard families across the country. Let's pretend he isn't actively hunting us. Let's pretend our lives are normal.
"So, what are you naming your son?" Sirius asked.
James smiled, "We don't know it's a boy."
"Sure it is! How about naming him after me?" James laughed. An old joke about adopting flashed through his mind. He smiled.
"But that would make him Sirius Potter Jr. And that doesn't make any sense." Sirius laughed.
"James Potter Jr. then." he suggested.
James shook his head, "Naw. Lily doesn't like the whole junior thing. His middle name is going to be James."
"James Potter?" Sirius paused, savoring the name. James laughed. "I like it. It has a certain ring to it. I think I've heard it before."
"Henry James Potter," James said after a minute. Sirius pulled a face.
"Michael James Potter."
James let out a harsh laugh. "Steven James Potter," he supplied.
"Orion James Potter," Sirius said, nodding.
"How about Peter James Potter?"
"Or Frank James Potter."
James laughed at his friend's suggestion. "I think it ought to be Remus James Potter if we're going to name him after one of us." Sirius snickered.
He held out a hand, signaling for silence. "I propose Sirius Remus James Potter. . . Jr. if you insist. Though really, your parents never officially adopted me. I'm still a Black. So we could leave off the Jr. for Lily's sake." They laughed together.
"Maybe something from Lily's family," James said at length.
"What? A Muggle name?" James shrugged. "I'm sure there are plenty of Wizard names--" James glared at him as the words died. "I can't believe I just said that," Sirius finished, blushing. A pained horror crossed his face.
"Don't worry about it, Mate."
"No! No! My family's poison has leached out again! Now I'll never forgive myself if you don't choose a name from Lily's family." Sirius buried his face in his hands. James sat thinking, staring at Sirius in the morning light. He seemed so worn and thin. I wonder if I look like that.
"Harry," he whispered.
Sirius looked up, "Hairy?"
"Harry James Potter."
"Who's that then?"
James smiled. "My son. I'll name him after Harry Evans." Sirius tilted his head, puzzled. "You remember him, right? He was at the wedding." Sirius retreated into thought.
"Oh, yes. Short, fat, bloke." James let out a sudden laugh.
"Tall and balding. . . Like you."
"Balding?" Sirius ran a hand through his hair. James laughed. Sirius smiled at him, dropping his hands to the table. Love. There was no other word for that light in his gray eyes. A half-formed thought tickled at the back of his brain. He explored it temporarily.
"That's not why we're meeting, Prongs," Sirius said into the silence. His face had closed down. It was his 'business mask'. He wore it when they talked about killings. Who was still here, who was not. Where people were hiding and how Voldemort knew.
James reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a rumpled envelope. "I have a message from Moony." He passed over the letter. Sirius fingered the unsealed envelope flap.
"Did you read it?" he asked, not looking up at James.
"I just helped you finish off somebody's Raspberry and Rum Trifle. What do you think?" A wry smile twisted Sirius' features.
"What's it say?"
"That he's going out of the country for a few weeks and he'll meet you at the usual place and time." James watched thoughts slide behind Sirius' eyes.
"And he's meeting you too, of course," he said. James shrugged.
"I didn't get a note. But I hardly ever see Moony, anymore." The words hung between them. Sirius nodded slowly.
"You had better go," he whispered, looking up at James. "I'll clean up before I leave." James stood slowly. He stared out the window. The last gasp of winter held sway over the world.
"Watch yourself, Prongs," Sirius continued in a whisper. James pulled his eyes back to meet his friend's gray ones. There was nothing there while Sirius wore his 'business mask'. He might just as well have read emotion in a wall of glacial ice.
"I'll be careful," James promised. "And you do the same, old friend," he said.
"Don't I always?" James chuckled at that and turned away. He showed himself to the door.
Same directions, same unassuming cottage. James stood in the late winter mud of the country lane. The members of the Order now hid from each other. Only a promise to deliver a message made it possible for him to stand here. Things had not been going well. Only Dumbledore knew everyone's location and by tonight, he would not be able to find Sirius again. But for now, he knew who waited behind that door.
James smiled as he squelched through the mud to the cherry wood door. The curtains moved as he approached and Sirius flung open the door. He stood there vibrant and alive. His incredible smile flashed in the darkness of the entry way. "James!" he waved excitedly for his friend to enter. James obliged, rushing in. Sirius rocked back and forth on his heels as he waited for James to climb out of his muddy boots and black coat.
The house smelled of sweet spices. Someone had been baking. "It smells lovely in here. Are you cooking?" James asked as he hung up his coat.
"Me? No. I just arrived. Whoever lives here left a moment ago. They set out a wonderful trifle." James laughed at the eager look on his friend's pale face.
"A trifle?" Sirius nodded. "Alright then," he sighed and shook his head as Sirius led the way into the back of the house. A breakfast nook looked out over the back garden. James sat on one side of the table. Sirius brought over dessert cups and spoons. He sat down opposite James. Raspberries and rum. James took a small bite.
They ate in silence, smiling at one another. James wrapped himself up in Sirius' happiness. It was his own Patronus against the evil that had befallen their world. He sighed. "If only we could sit here forever," he whispered. His smile turned sad. Sirius' own smile faltered.
"Don't James," he shook his head. "Let's just eat. Let's talk like we used to.' James smiled again, forcing it to stay.
"Sorry, Padfoot. You're right." They lapsed into silence. It was easy enough to say "let's pretend". It was another to actually do it. Let's pretend Voldemort isn't attacking wizard families across the country. Let's pretend he isn't actively hunting us. Let's pretend our lives are normal.
"So, what are you naming your son?" Sirius asked.
James smiled, "We don't know it's a boy."
"Sure it is! How about naming him after me?" James laughed. An old joke about adopting flashed through his mind. He smiled.
"But that would make him Sirius Potter Jr. And that doesn't make any sense." Sirius laughed.
"James Potter Jr. then." he suggested.
James shook his head, "Naw. Lily doesn't like the whole junior thing. His middle name is going to be James."
"James Potter?" Sirius paused, savoring the name. James laughed. "I like it. It has a certain ring to it. I think I've heard it before."
"Henry James Potter," James said after a minute. Sirius pulled a face.
"Michael James Potter."
James let out a harsh laugh. "Steven James Potter," he supplied.
"Orion James Potter," Sirius said, nodding.
"How about Peter James Potter?"
"Or Frank James Potter."
James laughed at his friend's suggestion. "I think it ought to be Remus James Potter if we're going to name him after one of us." Sirius snickered.
He held out a hand, signaling for silence. "I propose Sirius Remus James Potter. . . Jr. if you insist. Though really, your parents never officially adopted me. I'm still a Black. So we could leave off the Jr. for Lily's sake." They laughed together.
"Maybe something from Lily's family," James said at length.
"What? A Muggle name?" James shrugged. "I'm sure there are plenty of Wizard names--" James glared at him as the words died. "I can't believe I just said that," Sirius finished, blushing. A pained horror crossed his face.
"Don't worry about it, Mate."
"No! No! My family's poison has leached out again! Now I'll never forgive myself if you don't choose a name from Lily's family." Sirius buried his face in his hands. James sat thinking, staring at Sirius in the morning light. He seemed so worn and thin. I wonder if I look like that.
"Harry," he whispered.
Sirius looked up, "Hairy?"
"Harry James Potter."
"Who's that then?"
James smiled. "My son. I'll name him after Harry Evans." Sirius tilted his head, puzzled. "You remember him, right? He was at the wedding." Sirius retreated into thought.
"Oh, yes. Short, fat, bloke." James let out a sudden laugh.
"Tall and balding. . . Like you."
"Balding?" Sirius ran a hand through his hair. James laughed. Sirius smiled at him, dropping his hands to the table. Love. There was no other word for that light in his gray eyes. A half-formed thought tickled at the back of his brain. He explored it temporarily.
"That's not why we're meeting, Prongs," Sirius said into the silence. His face had closed down. It was his 'business mask'. He wore it when they talked about killings. Who was still here, who was not. Where people were hiding and how Voldemort knew.
James reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a rumpled envelope. "I have a message from Moony." He passed over the letter. Sirius fingered the unsealed envelope flap.
"Did you read it?" he asked, not looking up at James.
"I just helped you finish off somebody's Raspberry and Rum Trifle. What do you think?" A wry smile twisted Sirius' features.
"What's it say?"
"That he's going out of the country for a few weeks and he'll meet you at the usual place and time." James watched thoughts slide behind Sirius' eyes.
"And he's meeting you too, of course," he said. James shrugged.
"I didn't get a note. But I hardly ever see Moony, anymore." The words hung between them. Sirius nodded slowly.
"You had better go," he whispered, looking up at James. "I'll clean up before I leave." James stood slowly. He stared out the window. The last gasp of winter held sway over the world.
"Watch yourself, Prongs," Sirius continued in a whisper. James pulled his eyes back to meet his friend's gray ones. There was nothing there while Sirius wore his 'business mask'. He might just as well have read emotion in a wall of glacial ice.
"I'll be careful," James promised. "And you do the same, old friend," he said.
"Don't I always?" James chuckled at that and turned away. He showed himself to the door.