Disclaimer- I do not own Harry Potter or anything to do with it.
Summary- Drabble. Peter reflects on James. Contains hints of Slash.
Peter sat on the window ledge, gazing down onto the face of one of his friends. He couldn't explain why he had felt it necessary to get out of bed, only to look down at one of the faces that he saw for most of his waking hours. He supposed that it some sort of instinct that had caused him to do it.
The few precious hours that he had been asleep had been restless, and he had had dreams that had left him both confused and frustrated. Even though he had made the decision to retire early, turning down Remus' offer of a game of chess and the chance to catch up on some homework, he had not drifted off to sleep any time sooner than he would have done if he had gone to bed at his usual time. It has seemed as through he had only closed his eyes for ten minutes, before they cracked opened once again, and he was staring at the familiar ceiling of his dormitory. He had laid there quite comfortably for a couple of minutes, before he had found himself glancing to the other side of the dormitory where he presumed his friends were sleeping. It had still been pitch black when he had last looked out of the window, and he had had decided to drag himself out of bed, and go and get himself a glass of water, before he settled back down again.
As he had padded across the room, he had involuntarily glanced down at James' bed. The curtains had been open like they usually were. James had never liked to have his curtains closed when he slept, in the six years that Peter had known him they had not closed once whilst he had been slumbering. The moonlight had been shining down onto his face, giving him an almost ethereal, angelical look. Peter had snorted at this, James was certainly never angelical when he was awake. But in sleep he looked as through he could do nothing wrong, and his expression looked peaceful and oddly innocent.
It was then that Peter had found himself taking up residence on the windowsill where he now sat. He didn't have the opportunity to sit and watch one of his friends, and to just witness their company anymore. Everyone had had been quite busy lately, and besides their friendship wasn't nearly as strong as it had been in their first year. The four of them had changed, some of the changes had been good, but some had just resulted in the four boys becoming more apart from each other. Peter couldn't even remember the last time that he had had a proper conversation with either James or Sirius. They didn't really interact that much anymore, and Sirius and James preferred to keep together, and he didn't know that even they realised this. Even Remus, who Peter spent most of his time with, had changed since first year. He had adopted an air of detachment that definitely hadn't been there when they had first met. He still talked to them, Pete especially, but the passion that had been there when they were younger was gone. But at least they still had proper and friendly conversations.
Peter could remember a time when the four of them had been practically inseparable. They had shared absolutely everything with each other, and had thought of themselves as being four parts of something whole. Looking back on it now, he decided that that period of time had been a 'honeymoon' period of sorts, when they were just started to get to know each other and wanted to know absolutely all there was to know about each other. They had had midnight feasts and had camped out on each other's beds, conversing way into the early hours of the morning. He had a particularly memory that took place in this 'honeymoon' period. One that he would always hold dear to his heart. One that summed up their level or friendship quite nicely.
It had taken place in their second year. James had gotten a letter one lunchtime, telling him that his Grandmother had passed away. He had been devastated, as he had loved her dearly, and had missed a whole bunch of classes as a result. The other three Marauders had been deeply worried about him, and had been eager to see them throughout the whole day. Unfortunately Sirius and Remus had managed to get a detention for that evening, so it was up to Peter to see if James was alright, and pick up any pieces if necessary.
He had been nervous when he had entered the dormitory, even through James was his friend, he really had no idea what to expect or what state his friend would be in. James' curtain to his bed had been closed, which had been unusual and some muffled sobs could be heard coming from them.
He had cautiously approached the bed, had drawn back the curtains with a pair of trembling hands, and had been greeted by a sorry sight. It had been obvious that his friend had been crying, as he had supported a pair of red-rimmed eyes and a runny nose. James had looked into his eyes, and managed to convey his pain with a single glance. Peter had felt himself squirm, and had leaned over to give James a manly pat on the back. However, James had been in no mood for any stiff upper lip nonsense and had practically thrown himself into Peter's arms. This had caused the smaller boy to freeze for a couple of moments, before awkwardly returning the hug.
The embrace itself had felt utterly right to Peter, and had seemed like the perfect way to comfort his friend. James had seemed to like it anyway, as he had snuggled into his neck and managed to calm down a little bit. Peter had tentively reached out a hand to stroked his friend's hair, and when he received no rebuff, had gently run his hand through it. It had felt very soft and silky to the touch; James had seemed to like it anyway and seemed to find it soothing.
They had ended up falling asleep that day, and when they had awoken James had still been in his arms, he had even managed to give him a smile, albeit a sad one. And Peter felt privileged that it had been him who had made James feel better, even if it was only slightly.
Those days were over now, and he doubted that him and James would ever be that intimate again. A pang of loss went through him and he found himself moving over to James' bedside and carefully kneeling down. He knelt close to his friend, and noticing that a lock of hair was astray, gently brushed it out of James' eyes like he had done four years previously. He continued to gently stroke the other boy's hair, feeling glad now that the other boy was in the realms of sleep. He would certainly be disgusted if he knew what Peter was doing. Peter stopped his administrations and gazed down at his gaze once again, before following his whim, and carefully giving the black haired boy a light kiss on his cheek.
No. Things definitely couldn't go back to the way that they once were.
He smiled sadly, feeling the loss acutely, and fought down the urge to make a verbal sound at the unfairness of it all. He gulped, fighting down a sudden wave of emotion, before climbing to his feet. He gave James one last longing look, taking in his sheer beauty, before returning to his own bed once again.