Fairytale Scars
Not all fairytales have a happy ending. That's the first thing I think when I finally see him. His eyes are bloodshot – from tears or lack of sleep I don't know, but it's probably a combination of the two. There are dark circles around his eyes, and his skin has gone pale, a sign that he has not been outside this house for the past two weeks. I guess I can't really blame him – he just lost the one thing he lived for. The one thing he had lived for for the past decade, give or take a year or so. It's the first real taste of the real world that any of us have had. Our parents – who were never really children – have made sure that we got the childhood that they never had. But now it's taken until James was 24 to realise just how cruel life can be.
A shrill cry breaks us both out of this strange staring contest we have gotten in to – me trying to find my brother in this ghost that has confronted me, James trying to find a semblance of normalcy in his first contact with the outside world. I follow him into the house, into the room that once belonged to our sister. Apt really, that she should be placed here. The second ever Potter baby girl in generations, sleeping in the room of the first ever Potter baby girl. Even the flowers on the walls fit – Lillies for Lily, Daisies for Daisy. I pause in the doorway, not knowing if I should go in. The scene inside is so special, and shows a side of James I never knew existed. My crazy, loud, fun-loving brother is sitting in a rocking chair, cooing to his tiny daughter. The daughter that would never know her mother. Despite myself, I feel my eyes tearing up. But I can't let them; I have to say what I came here to say.
"James, I want you to come to lunch at the Burrow with me." There is a reason I was a Slytherin, not a Gryffindor. It took almost all of my courage just to say that one, simple sentence.
"Albus, I can't. You know I can't." His voice is dry from unuse, and I can tell that even those seven words took a lot of effort. I am looking at the shell of my big brother, and I am not leaving until a bit of the old James has returned.
"James, you can't stay here forever. It's been two weeks, and while I know that this must be hard for you, you have a little girl who so far has only met her paternal grandparents. She needs this. And so do you, you know it."
He opens his mouth to answer me, but suddenly something comes over me and before I know it I'm dragging him towards the Floo, grabbing the baby bag that I know Mum has had made up for the past two weeks on our way out. I don't let go of James' arm until we are in the backyard of the Burrow, looking out at our parents, Aunts, Uncles, Grandparents, sister, cousins, nieces, nephews and the people who may as well have been our Aunts, Uncles and cousins. To the casual observer the yard is full to the brim, but I know we could fit countless other people in there if we wanted to.
"Look around James." I have to physically take Daisy off him to make him look up. Not exactly how I envisioned my first cuddle with my niece, but it's better than nothing. "Open your eyes and look. See all these people? We're all here for you James. Everyone here knows what it's like to lose someone special to us. Fred and Amelia lost their baby last year, all the adults here lost loved ones when they were younger than you and I. We may not have lost our wife James, but we all lost Lauren too. You are not alone James. Yes, it hurts. And yes, it will take a while to heal, but it will heal. Just another scar to add to your long list, only this one isn't as visible. But if you let us help, it will get better. I promise."
I walk away now, sitting down with Daisy next to Lily and week-old Henry. With any luck, these two will grow up to be great friends. Two-year-old Charlie comes over too, indignant that his Daddy is holding anyone but him, but suddenly he is in the air, squealing for joy. I look up, and once again tears threaten to fall, but this time they are happy ones. There is James, a small smile on his face, tickling my son whilst being introduced to his new nephew – I don't even know if he had known about Henry's birth before today.
You know what? I think James will be ok. Not because time heals all wounds – it doesn't. But love heals all wounds, and soon this one will be a mere scar, tender to the touch and always there, but no longer red, raw and bleeding. And that's all we can hope for really.
A/N. Written for the Connect the Weasleys challenge with James/Albus: open your eyes; Scrabble challenge using the quote "It has been said that time heals all wounds. I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue, and the pain lessens, but it is never gone." -Rose Kennedy; Story Beginnings Challenge using the sentence not all fairytales have a happy ending.
So, let me know what you think! Thanks for reading. NG.