He began wearing the watch his father had given him Christmas morning.
It was slim and gold, practically weightless when he held it in his palm. When worn for the first time, however, James felt as if he was wearing an iron bracelet, easily noticeable among his friends. It wasn't until a week after he had begun wearing it that Troy Quiver saw it- "New watch, James?"- and none of the Marauder seemed to take interest in it at all. Sirius, at least, knew the watch had been given to James the day his mother died, but whether he knew that James had taken to wearing it wasn't clear. Peter once asked for the time, but didn't care when James told him as opposed to his usual "Dunno, ask Moony."
James thought Lizzy would've noticed; the feeling of cold metal running along one's skin is difficult to misinterpret. However, James' wrist rarely touched those whom he was no longer dating, especially when it was broken off due to "exam pressure". To be fair, Lizzy needed an "E" in every one of her N.E.W.T.s in order to become a Healer, but in James' mind it was still an excuse, and a bad one at that.
Why his father thought the watch was so important, James didn't know, but he wasn't about to ignore any words said by him. He had a single card left- and he wasn't about to waste it.
The watch was also invaluable in testing the Marauders' Map, a project they had on their minds for quite some time but no incentive to begin. Now, they were provided with a very compelling one. When the D.E.W.B.s returned to school next term, the Marauders wanted to be ready. It'd been lucky that Lizzy had heard Madeline, but what if she'd been stashed in a closet on the floor above? What if she'd been thrown into a bathroom or an unused classroom? While Remus pointed out they could hardly be expected to check the Map every second of every day, James remained unwavered. Peter always supported whatever James said, and Sirius was eager to use the Map for mischief, so the project went on.
Remus was the best artist out of the four of them, so he drew the school as close to scale as possible on a sheet of parchment. Peter scouted for rooms that even they hadn't discovered yet, and Sirius and James retreated to the library to figure out some way for the Map to work at all.
It is odd how life's circumstances interrelate. One problem often becomes a solution to another; a card that disrupts a straight figures into a full house. One is rarely able to predict how all the cards will play out, though many claim to. Even they, though, are not in control of how one reacts to those cards. It is those reactions to circumstances, planned or unplanned, that defines a player. That defines a person.
James would never realize how many defining moments he had, because his concept of defining dealt much more with fighting and scars than it did with words and mentality. It was a pity that he would never realize this, because if he had, he would've known that every moment of every day has the potential to be defining. So it would be best if one didn't fuck up.
According to the watch, it was 11:05 p.m., not that James was paying much attention to it. In fact, his arm that wore that watch was hung around Sirius' shoulders as they walked down the hall, their steps quite even though each held a half-consumed Firewhiskey. Remus was upstairs, watching the Map to check its validity. Peter was supposed to be on a different floor than Sirius and James, but neither could quite blame him for not wanting to be alone.
"You two are such fucking poofs," Peter proclaimed, watching as Sirius and James chuckled at some inside joke.
"At least we've been fucked," Sirius pointed out, taking another swing from his bottle. "By girls, no less. More than you can say."
"We need to find you a bird, mate. You haven't had a date since Heather-"
"Rebecca," Peter interjected.
"Whatever," James continued. "And she wasn't that good-looking anyway. Nose was a bit off-center. You could do better."
"Do you think so?"
"No," Sirius said. James and him lapsed into chuckles, Peter joining in half-heartedly, but unable to stop once started. The alcohol was making all of them light-headed.
"No, really, Wormtail," James said, the laughter still audible in his voice, "I'll talk to Evans tomorrow. She likes you well enough, I'm sure she'll have a suggestion."
"Since when have you been so matey with Evans?" Peter asked, his steps slightly more wobbly than Sirius' or James'. "You two talk now without yelling. It's weird."
James shrugged. "We made a truce. A few months ago, when we all had detention. And, I dunno, she seems fine enough since I've stopped asking her out." He finished his drink with flair, throwing it against the wall so it shattered. It'd become somewhat of a habit ever since the shards had saved his life in the Shack.
"You never mentioned it," Sirius declared disdainfully, finishing his drink as well, but he passed the empty bottle to Peter instead.
"I kinda had a lot going on," James replied, matching his mate's disdainful tone. "What's with you lately? Every time I bring up Evans, you start being a little bitch."
"Oh, get it, 'cause I'm a dog? Clever, Prongs," Sirius evaded, messing up James' hair as he pushed him away. "You know this whole 'truce' business is going to disappear as soon as she catches you having fun, right?"
"Probably," James admitted. "But might as well enjoy it while it lasts. At least I can bloody talk to her now without her glaring at me."
Peter set the empty bottle on the ground. "Yeah, that'd be cool if you'd talk to her, mate. I do need a bird. Do you think she'd be able to get-?"
"PRONGS!"
The scream came from James' pocket, which he suddenly noticed was radiating heat. His hand pulled the two-way mirror out, Remus' frantic face greeting him. For a second, James wondered why Remus' face was usually where Sirius' was, but then he remembered they'd left it in the dorm so he could contact them in case of an emergency with the Map.
"What's wr-?"
"Lily is coming down the hall! Take the passageway to your left- quick!"
The three boys turned as one, Peter and Sirius scrambling through the tapestry of Alexander the Great, James moving to follow them. Something rolled from under his foot, and his slowed reflexes only barely caught him as he fell forward. The clink of the bottle hitting the wall echoed in the corridor, Sirius and Peter's hurried whispers urging James up, but he had only just gripped the tapestry when he saw the dreaded light out of the corner of his eye.
"James?"
It takes him a moment to comprehend the tone of her muffled voice: not the accusatory disapproval he expected, but an apprehensiveness he had rarely heard. He lets the tapestry slip from his fingers, moving away from the wall just in time for the light of Lily's wand to wash over him.
"Yeah, it's me," he said unnecessarily, musing up his hair half-consciously. "What're you doing out this time of night?"
"What am I doing?" Lily asked, raising an eyebrow and her wand. "I'm patrolling. You, I'm guessing, are not. What are you doing-? Never mind. I don't want to know." She shook her head, but James could see the smile. "Do you ever learn?"
"Occasionally. Do you ever have fun?"
"Occasionally," she mimicked. James smiled, suddenly thinking perhaps he wasn't doomed to detention after all. It was the last week of the year, maybe she'd take pity on him...
"Are the Marauders with you?"
"Nah," he lied easily. "It's just me. Couldn't sleep."
"Well, you're certainly not the only one."
"Mind if I walk with you?" The question left his lips before he'd even begun to think about it, but everything felt like a good idea right then. Her face wavered, clearly caught in some sort of dilemma, but James flung his arm around her shoulders before she could answer.
"I'm so delighted you agreed."
"Are you drunk?" Lily asked, suddenly affronted as she pushed him off of her.
"A bit," James admitted, deciding lying wasn't really an option at that point. "I'm legal, now, aren't I?"
"I don't care if you're older than Dumbledore, it's not permitted for students," Lily argued as though she'd said the same line several times before that night. She probably had.
"Come on," he urged. "Have some fun. Better yet, let me have some fun. A week before bloody school ends. Are you really gonna give me detention?"
She shifted her weight on her other foot, but he could see her resolve breaking. James grinned what he hoped was a charming smile, but it did nothing to change Lily's expression. She placed her hand on her hip, a bad omen, and he knew he had to act fast.
"What if you take points off?" he suggested. "That'd be fair. Then you are doing something to deter me, after all." It was of little consequence whether she took five or twenty points- after the last Quidditch match, Gryffindor was up by eighty points, a gap not likely to be filled in the last week of school.
Lily took her hand off her hip. "Alright, then. Five points from Gryffindor." She grinned, clearly relieved to have been given an alternative. "As for wandering the halls, let's just say you were helping me with patrols, yeah?"
James laughed. "Okay, Evans, you got yourself a deal. I'm helping with prefect duties," he stated sarcastically. "Do you make exceptions for Dorcas with the rules? Because you know she sneaks out after hours."
"Of course I don't. Just because she's my friend doesn't mean I give her special treatment," Lily objected. "But if I were to find her or any other friend in the hallway after hours I might be a little more inclined to ignore the... the... extent of their wrongdoing."
"Well, then, I'm glad we're mates now."
James felt his chest expand almost painfully as she smiled sincerely, her eyes glinting as she stared at him. "Me too," she said, starting to walk down the hall with him. "And I'm incredibly relieved that you've stopped asking me out. Finally given up on a challenge, have you?"
"Something like that," James agreed, falling into step with her. "Though now that you mention it, would you go-?"
"Potter!"
"-left? I have a nasty feeling Flitwick saw me near his office."
"Oh," she sighed, looking abashed. James chuckled, glad to have predicted her so easily. He stumbled over his own foot and had to grip the wall for support. Lily giggled, and James suddenly started laughing for no reason at all.
She raised an eyebrow as she stared at him incredulously. He held his stomach in an effort to suppress the chuckles from rising, but he felt the painful vibrations and a few stray tears slide down his face. Lily smiled nervously, looking torn between joining him and taking him to the hospital wing.
"You must be so smashed," she stated when he had finished his laughing fit and wiped the tears from his eyes.
"Nah, just a little over the edge," James corrected.
"Then why were you laughing?"
"Why do I need a reason?" he asked. "Since when do I need a reason to laugh?"
It was a question that nonplussed Lily, but it couldn't be simpler to James. She didn't understand the fun of throwing cards on the table randomly, strategy forgotten, playing for time, not victory. It wasn't something James was very likely to do in a real game of cards, but life was different. To him, cards were not a gamble. Life was.
"Mr. Potter?"
Dumbledore stood at the end of the hallway in brilliant blue robes, smiling softly. Lily's eyes widened in panic, clearly searching for an excuse as to why she'd allowed James to wander the school after hours, but Dumbledore raised a hand to stop her. "Thank you, Miss Evans, for locating Mr. Potter for me. I'm afraid he can be quite difficult to find, seeing as he is never where he should be." He walked towards them, appearing to glide since his robes extended to the floor. "We're going back to look in the Mirror, Mr. Potter. You're welcome to join us Miss Evans."
Lily's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but she nodded, curiosity getting the better of her. James was not very fazed, his face impassive. Part of him cared as to why Dumbledore was taking him to the Mirror again, but the mystery wasn't particulary enticing with firewhiskey smothering his brain. He was slightly concerned about Lily's presence while he revealed his deepest desire, but not enough to voice any objections. The pair followed the Headmaster down the corridor, both making an effort to lengthen their strides to match him.
Yet he did not lead them to the classroom James expected him to- instead, they went all the way down to the dungeons. They passed Slughorn's classroom, walked around several suits of armor, and took a few turns that even made James confused as to where they were. Dumbledore suddenly grasped the handle of a door in an alcove without any warning, making Lily run right into James.
"Sorry," she mumbled, but hurried into the classroom right after Dumbledore. James smiled, imagining how curious she must be and felt instantly superior.
The Mirror had been placed directly in the center of the classroom, as though the person who had put it there had realized the pointlessness of trying to make the gigantic golden shape inconspicuous in a completely empty room. Dumbledore closed the door after James, and a loud click alerted them all that the door was locked and that whatever happened in this room wouldn't be shared outside of it.
"What is it?" Lily asked after an awkward silence, staring into the reflection of the three of them.
"A damn good-looking bloke, I'd say," James said, spotting Dumbledore smile out of the corner of his eye. Even Lily flashed him a smile, and he felt a warmth seep through his chest. He reminded himself that the only reason she deigned to beam at him was because of their newfound friendship, and the warmth became cold very fast. "It shows what you want the most," he continued seriously. "Only if you stand right in front of it, though, and only you can see it."
Lily turned back to the Mirror with a new respect, and James was sure he saw a bit of fear in her eyes before she blinked it away. Dumbledore stood purposefully off to the side, and James understood what he was supposed to do, though not why.
He stepped in front of the Mirror, and saw something he did not expect.
There he stood with the Marauders on either side of him, all grinning, but he was older, though it was only noticeable by the few inches added to his height and a slightly broader frame. His arm was slung around Sirius' neck, much like it had been that night, watch and all. The group was standing in front of a house, his house, a Christmas tree visible in the window.
It was a December 25th of the future, one where James was smiling, not crying; one where his arms were wrapped around his very alive friends, not a dead mother. It was a Christmas where James was not grieving, where he had healed and was living his life.
James could not tear his eyes from the image, feeling the guilt stain him. How could he want a Christmas where he wouldn't remember his mother? Was he that selfish that he didn't even want to mourn on the day of her death? He tried to convince himself that maybe this was just a Christmas where her death hadn't happened, but the watch on his hand betrayed a wish consistent with the past. Besides, where was his mother in the Mirror if he wanted to be with her? He was so disgusted with his deepest desire, but he couldn't look away.
"James?"
He didn't respond, deciding not to hear the voice demanding his attention. He looked so happy in the Mirror, so content with life. Even as he watched his other self threw his head back and laughed so thoroughly that James could hear it. How could he want this? The James in the Mirror seemed completely oblivious that this was the anniversary of his mother's death, more concerned with making jokes and shoving Peter's face in the snow.
"James?"
But he pushed the voice out of his mind as the Mirror blurred, clearing to show himself, the same James who'd been shown only a few moments before, in front of a grave. He didn't need to hear his voice to know what his other self said, didn't need to see the other half of the gravestone to know that he'd placed a flower on the ground. The Mirror blurred again, and he was back with his mates, laughing as Remus pulled snow out of his trousers.
A hand closed around his shoulder the same instant he felt the relief of recognition wash over him. The James in the Mirror had not forgotten his mother's death. He'd just made peace with it. James' chest ached with the desire for this to be reality, but he understood the Mirror's danger. He could not become obsessed with the image; he would not.
"I'm fine," he answered automatically, and Lily gingerly slid her hand off his shoulder. He didn't need to ask what Dumbledore wanted, and Lily's presence didn't bother him anymore. His desire wasn't selfish, it was empathetic and necessary. "I see myself having made peace with my mother's death," he admitted, his voice strong and controlled.
At James' words, Dumbledore nodded, as if he was a proud father looking at his son. "Very well. Thank you, James. I know I have asked so much of you, and I think the courage you have displayed in front of this Mirror is equal to any you have previously shown."
He wanted to point out that fighting a werewolf had been a lot fucking scarier than admitting his deepest desire in a room of two people, but he decided that it probably wasn't to most people.
That, and Lily suddenly embraced him with enough force to stop Hagrid in his tracks.
"Ooph!" his exclaimed, regaining his balance at the last second. "Lily! What're-?"
But he stopped speaking as soon as he saw Lily's eyes focus on the Mirror. The force of the gesture had knocked James slightly to the side, and Lily was now directly in front of her greatest want.
Her mouth dropped slightly, her arms slackened around his torso, and she took a tentative step forward. Dumbledore stopped in mid-step towards the door, and Lily let go of James completely to stare at whatever she was seeing.
"I hope Hogwarts presents the two of you with a pleasant evening."
Lily and James turned, but the door closed with a final click, Dumbledore already on the other side. James knew it would be a hopeless endeavor to run after the Headmaster, but the the questions in the back of his mind propelled him forward, caused him to lean out the door, made him shout, "Professor!" into an empty hallway.
Why did he want to know my deepest desire anyway? Why again?
He looked back at Lily, the pair of them locking eyes. Her hand was pressed against the glass, and James half-expected her to say what she had seen. He stared at her, both for a possible motive for Dumbledore and a description of her deepest desire, but Lily only slid her hand off the glass.
"You should probably get back to bed."
James understood. Not everyone could be expected to share what they saw in the Mirror. Not everyone could be as open and trusting and faintly idiotic. Some people were cynical and smart, and James could hardly blame them. As he left Lily alone in the room, he wondered what it would be like if he kept his hand closer to his chest, if he didn't lay it out on the table for all to see.
"Prongs!"
He turned, Peter and Sirius coming up behind him, practically shouting that the Map worked, that they'd finally gotten it right. The rest of the night would be about celebrating their own brilliance and their new omniscience. At the moment, he didn't want to think about whatever Lily and him and seen in the Mirror, and why Dumbledore had brought them there. It would all be reflected out, one way or another.