The atmosphere in Professor Dumbledore's office was typically warm and inviting, with the soft glow of enchanted candles dancing around the room. However, on this particular day, a somber tension filled the air. Albus sat behind the desk, his half-moon spectacles glinting in the light, as he leaned forward, listening intently to the Ministry official standing before him.
"Unfortunately, I must confirm that the Potters have fallen victim to an unusually severe outbreak of Dragon Pox," the official said, his voice fraught with reluctance. He straightened his dark robes, the heaviness of his words weighing on both Albus and Minerva in the room.
"Fleamont and Euphemia Potter were taken rather quickly; they exhibited symptoms but had no idea how severe their situation had become."
Albus's expression turned grave, the twinkle in his eye dulled by sorrow as he eyed Minvera closely, seeing her dab her eyes softly.
"They were such resilient individuals. I cannot believe what I am hearing," he murmured kindly. "The Potters were beloved members of our community."
The official nodded, a grim look on his face. "They affected many lives at Hogwarts and the wizarding world at large. However, the outbreak has been particularly virulent, and there is little else we could do once they contracted the disease. Their legacy lives on through their children."
A heavy silence fell. Albus looked down at his cluttered desk, his thoughts clearly racing through the implications of this tragic event. Fleamont and Euphemia Potter were not merely parents to promising young Gryffindors; they were friends and dignified members of the magical society, having made significant contributions to both potion-making and magical inventions throughout their lives.
After a moment, Albus spoke, resolute in his task.
"We must inform them, immediately," said Minerva sharply feeling the heaviness in her heart for James and Emily, even Sirius too. Albus took a deep breath, his normally calm demeanor now reflecting the weight of what was to come. "I cannot allow them to hear such news from anyone other than those who care for them. We must approach it with care and compassion."
The Ministry official made a low, resigned sound of agreement. "Of course. There will be the matter of the Potter's estate which the eldest will need to handle now. James, I believe? Yes, okay, yes James Potter is of age, as he's seventeen. Emily, though is shy of her seventeenth birthday, so discussion will need to be had for her welfare. Both can be handled when either of them are ready. We will pause everything in regards to their passing and begin the paperwork for transfers when young Mr. and Miss Potter are ready. I will leave everything else to you, Headmaster. I … I am sorry for your loss as well."
"Minerva," Albus began, "Where are James and Emily, Sirius too?"
As the weight of their loss began to sink in, Minerva nodded, her heart aching for the siblings. She could only imagine how they would take this news.
"Yes, James and Sirius are in Charms, and Emily is in Herbology," she clarified, a painful resolve crossing his features.
"They shouldn't hear this from anyone but us," said Albus nodding to the Ministry Official to leave.
With a firm but compassionate nod, McGonagall stirred into action. "I'll bring them. They're young, but they deserve to know the truth."
Albus watched her leave, his heart heavy with foreboding. He knew how close the Potters were as a family, and the idea of splitting that bond with such a heartbreaking fracture chilled him. He settled into his chair, steeling himself for the difficult task ahead.
As Minerva stepped out of the office, the contrast between the solemnity of her task and the lively atmosphere of the castle was stark. The sound of students' laughter echoed down the corridor, and the enchantments lining the walls shimmered brightly, a stark reminder of the joy and freedom of youth that now felt so fragile. Steeling herself, and quickening her pace as her heels clicked purposefully against the enchanted floor. She had taught some of the most gifted young witches and wizards in the wizarding world, and today her heart ached at the thought of delivering news that would shatter three of them.
The bright afternoon sunlight streamed into the Charms classroom, casting a warm glow over the students as they diligently practiced their wand movements. James was deeply focused, a flick of his wrist sending a cascade of colorful sparks into the air. The spell was simple, one he was confidently mastering, but today.
Just as he was about to perform the charm again, the door swung open, and Professor McGonagall entered. The usual brisk pace she carried was replaced by something else—an air of solemnity that instantly captured the attention of every student in the room. The chatter ceased as she scanned the classroom, a firm determination in her eyes.
"Professor Flitwick," she said, her voice steady but low, "may I have a word with Mr. Potter and Mr. Black, please?"
Filius looked up from the desk at the front, his brows knitting together in concern as he eyed the two young men. James's laughter faded as he turned, a flicker of confusion crossing Sirius's face. They equally shared a look of concern. Surely they weren't getting called out in front of everyone for some misdeed….
"Of course, Professor McGonagall," replied Filius, his high-pitched voice somewhat tremulous as he nodded toward the two boys. McGonagall gestured for James and Sirius to step forward. A sense of dread clawed at her, twisting in the pit of her stomach.
"Uh-oh," Sirius mouthed silently, his earlier playful demeanor vanishing in an instant.
With their hearts pounding, James and Sirius followed McGonagall into the corridor. The thick stone walls loomed around them, a testament to the weight of the news that pressed upon their shoulders.
"Professor, what's wrong?" James asked, trying to keep his voice steady, but it trembled just enough to betray his rising panic. "Is it about Quidditch practice? Did something happen?"
Minerva remained quiet as she led them both toward the greenhouses, which were warm and fragrant, filled with the rich scent of blooming magical plants. Sunlight streamed through the glass panes overhead, illuminating sturdy work tables where students experimented with various herbs and potions.
"C'mon, just give it one more try! You can do it!" came a soft voice through the door. Whoever it was encouraged, a voice bright, trying to uplift someone nearby. Opening the door quietly, James and SIrius peeked in after Minerva stepped in calling for Professor Sprout.
Emily, gentle and gifted, was kneeling beside a tangle of roots, her focus on a restless Mandrake. She was assisting a second-year student who looked apprehensive, clutching her wand tightly. The Mandrake squirmed under her hands, its roots thrashing wildly as it let out a series of annoyed squeaks. Just as the second-year student was about to lose her nerve, Emily guided the student through the steps to quiet the creature down before turning not hearing her name being called several times by both Minerva and Pomona The mandrake was being extremely loud.
"What?" Emily asked softly, instinctively sensing that something was amiss. She straightened up, brushing dirt from her hands, her heart beginning to race.
"Miss Potter," Minerva replied, her voice steady but underscored with an unmistakable gravity. "I need you to come with me immediately. It's urgent."
Emily exchanged worried glances with her second-year companion, whose eyes were wide with concern. "But I'm helping —"
"Just a moment, Miss Potter. Please collect your bag," Minerva reassured, before turning her attention back to Pomona, who was nodding, a grave look on her face too now.
Outside, Emily spotted James and Sirius standing in the corridor, both wearing anxious expressions. James had his arms crossed and was leaning against the wall, while Sirius nervously scratched the back of his head. The contrast between their carefree laughter earlier in the day and the tension now felt stark, as if the cheerful world they inhabited suddenly turned murky. Emily frowned at them harshly before crossing her arms.
"Professor," Emily exclaimed, swift urgency filling her voice. "What's going on? Is this about my falling asleep in class? I'm really sorry, I've been tired lately with everything –"
"No, Miss Potter," Minerva replied with a soft firmness, her heart aching for them. "It's something far worse."
James clenched his jaw, his breathing quickening as he looked at Emily and Sirius.
"What's wrong?" he demanded, trying to keep his voice steady, but a tremor betrayed him.
Sirius stepped forward, instinctively moving closer to James. "It can't be bad," he whispered, though he looked as frightened as James felt.
"Let's go speak to Professor Dumbledore," Minerva whispered, her heart aching for the three of them. "He is waiting for you."
Together, they walked, hearts heavy yet somehow determined to navigate the uncertain path ahead. Even Emily looked at the boy's confusion, riddling her brows. The hallway seemed to stretch endlessly as they moved toward the Headmaster's office, the heavy atmosphere suffocating under the weight of unsaid words. Each step echoed loudly, a grim reminder of the seriousness of their situation. They seemed to struggle in comprehending the urgency behind Minerva's presence to them.
"What do you think it could be?" Emily whispered nervously, a quiver in her voice to either of them listening.
"I don't know, Em … We've barely been in any trouble this year!" James replied.
"Yeah, but she seemed so serious," Sirius interjected, his face taut with concern. "She wouldn't drag us out like this for nothing."
As they reached the door to the Headmaster's office, the familiar chime of the magical knocker rang in their ears. Minerva hesitated for a fraction of a second, visually steeling herself before finally raising her hand to knock. The door swung open, revealing Professor Dumbledore seated behind his desk, surrounded by the comforting clutter of books and magical artifacts. The warm light of the enchanted candles flickered, momentarily illuminating the grave expressions on the three adults— Albus, Minerva, and the Ministry official quietly standing to the side.
dot*
Beneath the light, the students entered the office, the door closing softly behind them like a curtain falling on a scene of joy. James and Emily felt the change in atmosphere the moment they stepped inside. The room that usually radiated warmth seemed to hold an ominous chill.
"Ah, Miss Potter, Mr. Potter, Mr. Black," Professor Dumbledore said gently, his piercing blue eyes softening as he met their worried gazes. "Thank you for coming so quickly. I understand this must be troubling, but there are matters of great importance we need to discuss."
James felt a wave of dread wash over him.
"Professor, what's going on?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Is it about school? Did something happen in Charms or Herbology?"
Professor Dumbledore's eyes flickered with sadness, and he took a moment to gather his thoughts.
"No. This isn't about your classes. It concerns your parents."
At the mention of his parents, James felt his heart drop. Emily looked over at Sirius feeling the air chill even more. Sirius frowned as he stepped closer to her, sensing a brooding overwhelming pressure.
"What do you mean? Are they okay?" asked James loudly, his eyes widening in fright.
Professor Dumbledore's gaze steeled with gravitas.
"I'm afraid I must deliver very tragic news. Your parents have passed away … due to an outbreak of Dragon Pox. It happened suddenly, and I cannot imagine the shock this will be for you."
"Dragon Pox?" Emily repeated blankly, disbelief evident as the term swirled in the air. Their hearts raced, a dissonance of emotions crashing within. "But there are remedies …"
"They ... they can't be…" James's voice faltered, as he glanced helplessly at Emily standing wide-eyed beside him.
A profound silence blanketed the corridor, as Professor Dumbledore's words hung in the air. James's face paled, disbelief flashing in his hazel eyes. Next to him, Emily felt a wave of sorrow crash over her like a tidal wave, tears springing to her eyes. She held up her hands in a silent gasp as Sirius stood frozen as he stared at both Potters.
"No," James whispered, shaking his head in denial. "No, that's… that can't be true!"
"Please tell me it's a mistake!" Emily cried, her voice breaking, helplessness clawing at her heart. She was trying to wipe away the steady tears coming out now.
Professor McGonagall stepped closer, her voice gentle as she observed her three students.
"I know this is unimaginable. They loved you all dearly. They would want you to know that their love remains in your hearts."
The familiar warmth of the Hogwarts castle seemed to dissipate, the vibrant colors fading. The laughter of students echoed faintly, but now it felt like a distant memory overshadowed by profound loss. Yet in that moment, as their childhood flickered like a dimming flame, an instinctive break formed from their years as siblings. Instinctively James reached out, grasping Emily's hand tightly as she slapped it back in disgust. The words fell like heavy stones, weighted with the sorrow they carried. James blinked rapidly, unable to process their meaning. Emily's face went pale, her breaths coming in quick, shallow gasps as she clutched her chest.
"No. No, no …" Emily whispered, shaking her head in denial as she gripped around the edge of Professor Dumbledore's desk. "They can't be gone. They were fine! Mum and Dad were fine!"
"I just saw them during the Christmas holiday!" shouted James a moment. "Em's not seen them since September!"
"Mr. Potter —" Dumbledore began gently.
"What are you talking about?" he exclaimed, anger mingling with devastation as his emotions boiled. "This can't be true! You're wrong!"
"James," Professor McGonagall's voice cut through the chaos. She stepped closer, her expression full of empathy, urging him to see the reality of the situation. "Please, we are here for you. We loved your parents dearly."
"No." Emily's voice, usually soft, now held a sharp edge.
"You … you're lying! They were okay! They were always okay!" shouted James now louder than before.
Tears brimming — she blinked against them furiously, as if shoving away the terrible truth would somehow bring them back.
"We're so sorry, for all of you. Miss Potter, Mr. Potter" the Ministry official spoke up, stepping closer to the siblings and Sirius. "They were loved within the community, and it is a tragic loss for all of us."
James felt as if the ground beneath him had split open. "I need to see them! I need to … to —"
His voice broke, emotions clawing up his throat.
"James, listen." Sirius placed a hand on his shoulder, anchoring him to the present. "We'll get through this. We'll be together."
Professor Dumbledore observed the turmoil before him, his heart heavy with understanding as he contemplated the gravity of their loss.
"As you begin to process this, please remember you are not alone. We will support you in any way possible. Your parents were remarkable people, and they would want you to find a way to honor them, even through this unfathomable pain."
Inside, James felt the walls closing in, the room spinning as he fought against the tide of grief. The comforting words from Professor Dumbledore felt insufficient, mere shadows against the stark reality of his loss. Emily gripped the edge of the desk, eyes glistening with shed tears, her sobs echoing through the office.
"I … We don't want to be orphans," he murmured, so quietly that even he hardly recognized the small voice that escaped him.
Professor McGonagall stepped closer, her heart breaking for the trio. "You are not alone, I promise you. Hogwarts will always be your home. You will have all of us. You will have each other."
Emily clung to herself, her brother's presence momentarily anchoring her amidst the storm of emotions. But she remained distant from James and Sirius.
"What do we do?" she asked, her voice trembling but filled with resolve.
Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat gently. "One step at a time. Let's take this together. For now, it is important that you grieve, that you express your feelings, and allow yourselves time to process this. We will handle all the logistics regarding … everything else in due time. The Wizarding World has lost two brilliant souls, and unfortunately, you will indeed need to face this alone, as their names and legacies deserve a proper tribute. But right now, allow your friends and family to support you."
As reality settled like an avalanche around them, James tightened his grip on his sister, who for once wasn't fighting him. In that moment, Professor McGonagall wished she could take the pain away, to spare them from chaos and grief. The bond of the Potter family had been shattered, leaving behind the fading echoes of laughter, love, and the warmth of home.
dot*
Easter Holidays, 1978
In the weeks following the announcement, the weight of the Potter family estate pressed heavily on James's shoulders. He had been forced to leave Hogwarts alongside Sirius before the holiday, the abrupt end to his final year that felt like a stark violation of the natural order of things. Navigating the complexities of the Potter estate now felt like stepping into a cavernous labyrinth without a map. Fleamont and Euphemia had taken care of every detail, shielding their children from the arduous responsibilities of adulthood. Now, however, it was up to James to manage the remnants of their lives — a task he felt woefully unprepared for. He spent hours pouring over ledgers and documents, most of which were written in a legalese that seemed to mock his lack of experience. From the family vault at Gringotts to the intricacies of their property holdings, everything felt alien.
Determined to untangle the mess, James knew the first step was to establish Emily's own vault at Gringotts. While the intricacies of investments and property management felt like a foreign language, setting up a separate account for Emily was something he could grasp. The goblins had been understandably curt, their expressions inscrutable as they reviewed the accounts. James tried to absorb the information, but it felt like he was wading through a fog; every number and notation swirled together, blurring until they lost meaning. After several tense conversations with the goblins, who regarded him with a mixture of impatience and curiosity, he was finally able to establish a vault under Emily's name solely, that would become hers fully once she reached of age. He felt a flicker of accomplishment — something that at least resembled competence amidst the chaos. At least she would have it set up in case anything happened to her or if Sirius had any issues with the Black family estate.
Once that was sorted, James and Sirius carefully divided the family assets. Sitting at the kitchen table, surrounded by piles of documents that seemed to loom larger than life, they worked together through the process. The ledger showed his parents' extensive goodwill, suggesting a bond that went far beyond just financial means. Emily arrived sometime during the first few days of the holiday with a scowl on her face. The once vibrant household had grown eerily quiet. The fireplace crackled as he occasionally summoned Sirius for help, only to find himself wrestling with the reality that their carefree teenage antics were gone, replaced by the demands of adult life.
While the three of them had been spoiled by their parents' resources and loving attention, Emily's resentment toward their new circumstances manifested in silence, leaving James to feel even more isolated in his attempts to fill their parents' shoes. With each passing day, he grew more proficient at simple tasks, like ensuring the bills were paid on time and the house was stocked, but the deeper issues — the emotional turmoil and the weight of their parents' absence, remained unresolved. He longed for guidance, for the warm embrace of reassurance that their parents would have given, but without them, the burden of every decision each day began to feel suffocating.
The estate was more than a collection of possessions; it was a living testament to the love and legacy of their family. James couldn't help but feel that if he failed to honor it, he would also fail to honor their parents' memory. He often found himself questioning how he would ever reconcile such weighty responsibility with the carefree life of a seventeen-year-old. The paradox was unbearable. It was a bitter reality that he had to embrace, whether he was ready or not.
Tomorrow he and Emily would bury their parents. Tomorrow everything else will be different.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold, a somber atmosphere enveloped the Potter household. James and Emily had laid their parents to rest in a quiet glade at Godric's Hollow, one of the few places that had always felt like home. The funeral service was attended by a mix of family and friends, but the presence of a multitude of Ministry officials — wizards and witches whom their parents had helped or influenced over the years — added an air of formality that felt profoundly out of place. James had taken charge of the arrangements, his heart heavy as he made decisions no seventeen-year-old should ever have to face. Emily had clung to his side, a silent partner in their shared grief, but her eyes betrayed her profound sorrow. As they stood together beneath the oak tree, with the wind whispering through the branches, they listened to the eulogies that celebrated their parents' lives. Stories of kindness, bravery, and laughter floated through the air, each one a painful reminder of what had been lost.
As the final echoes of the eulogies lingered in the air, James's gaze drifted toward Emily, who stood beside Luke. His presence was a sharp contrast to the somber atmosphere, his face a storm of anger and disbelief that simmered just beneath the surface. James felt a pang of irritation; he didn't need anyone else's emotions, complicating the already heavy load on their shoulders. But he also understood, to some degree, that grief manifested differently for everyone. He also knew that he was only there because Emily asked for him personally and given the anger she'd shown, James was compelled to agree to his addition.
Luke had always been a steadfast figure in Emily's life, her confidant through thick and thin over the many years. They had shared so many memories, often escaping the pressures of their lives through shared laughter and the natural camaraderie of youth. But now, as the snake stood by her side, the anger radiating off him was perceptible and unsettling. It was not just the loss of her parents that fueled Luke's ire; it was also the sense of injustice, the feeling that there was no place for someone like him at a Potter family funeral, particularly after everything that had transpired. Emily, however, seemed to find solace in his presence, even amid the storm of his emotions. She clung to Luke's arm with a quiet resolve, drawing strength from his fury as if it somehow justified their emotions in a world that often demanded they remain stoic. James stole glances at them, noticing how Luke's expressions would shift between anger and concern as he checked on Emily, his own pain reflected in her grief. Luke's instincts were protective; he wanted to shield her from the harsh reality looming ahead.
"Why is he here?" James could almost hear the silent question in his own mind, unwilling to voice it aloud. Emily would take comfort from Luke's righteous anger, but James couldn't help but feel a hint of possessiveness over his sister. In that moment, he recognized the fragile landscape they were navigating together. The familiar bond of childhood was shifting — those unbreakable ties now hanging by a thread as each of them processed this loss in their own way.
As they placed flowers on their parents' grave, James noticed the fierce look of determination etched on Emily's face, bolstered by Luke's fiery presence. He realized that, though their bond had changed irrevocably, it was not entirely shattered. They were still connected by shared memories and dreams, even if those dreams had been altered by tragedy. He was wrong he realized, when she left with Luke without saying a word
Several hours later, he sank deeper into the well-worn leather couch that had been a staple of their childhood home. Staring blankly at the wall as the ambient sounds of the house—his parents' laughter echoing in the corridors, the clinking of potion vials in the kitchen, even the soft rustle of books being opened — had turned into haunting memories in the wake of his parents' untimely death. But now, it was all gone, leaving only a hollow ache in his chest. The walls felt as though they were closing in, and he could almost hear their voices, urging him to step away from sorrow and pick up the pieces.
He let out a heavy sigh, rubbing at the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger. It was almost surreal to think that just a few weeks ago, he had been navigating the usual challenges of being a seventeen-year-old wizard — pranking Snape, preparing for his upcoming birthday, and figuring out how his date idea with Lily Evans to Hogsmeade would be. Now, he was faced with expenses, bills, and arrangements for his family's estate, and it was weighing on him like an insurmountable burden.
Being the eldest son came with responsibilities, and that responsibility felt monumental on his shoulders right now. He was still grieving, and in the quiet moments when the world fell silent, the pain struck him anew, threatening to engulf him whole. Only a few days away from turning eighteen, he was already legally considered an adult in the wizarding world, and yet, part of him felt like a lost child without his parents' guidance. He rubbed his temples, fighting off the rising frustration. While he had always been fiercely protective of his sister, he was at a loss for how to navigate this new territory. Her resentment toward him and Sirius had become evident in recent weeks, especially after whatever had or hadn't happened at the Christmas Ball. She had gone silent, retreating into herself, and James didn't know how to reach her. He hated that their lives had spiraled in such a short time, that the pressures piled onto her small shoulders while he was still just trying to figure out how to keep their family afloat.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the front door creaking open, and a familiar figure stepped inside. Emotionless Emily entered with her head down, her long hair cascading over her face. Even from a distance, James could feel the tension radiating off her. He opened his mouth to greet her, but the words caught in his throat. He could sense the rift between them, a growing chasm fueled by grief, anger, and misunderstanding. She looked older than her sixteen years, the strain of the last few months evident in the shadows under her eyes. James felt a pang of sympathy mixed with worry.
"Hey, Em," he said softly, forcing a lightness into his tone that he didn't feel. "How are you holding up?"
Emily's gaze flickered toward him, a mixture of anger and hurt in her eyes.
"Fine," she replied curtly, making her way to the kitchen without a backward glance. She lifted her head at the sound of her name again, and for a brief moment, their eyes met. James felt a pang of hope — perhaps she'd open up to him, let him help. But then her expression darkened, and she turned away, heading straight for the kitchen without answering. The door swung shut behind her, and that small moment of connection evaporated.
The silence that followed was deafening. Sirius arrived shortly after, his usual exuberant self dampened by the somber atmosphere. He had been trying to support both of them, but he too felt the strain of Emily's discontent. He exchanged a glance with James, and they silently agreed to tread carefully. But with each moment spent in silence, he felt time slipping away, and he knew the clock was ticking down to a moment he desperately hoped would allow them to confront the pain openly.
"Emily!" Sirius called into the kitchen, his tone gentle. "Can we talk?"
James leaned back against the couch, uncertainty swirling within him. He could only hope that this time would be different, that they would break through the barriers between them, and their hearts could find a way back to each other.
"Emily!" Sirius called out again, following her into the kitchen. Getting up, James followed him, seeing her standing at the sink cleaning a dish. She turned to face them, her brow furrowed.
"What's there to talk about? You both seem pretty well concerned about our family's estate. Been busy making all sorts of decisions without me." Her voice wavered, reflecting the whirlwind of emotions she was struggling to contain.
"Em, we thought we were doing what was best," James interjected, his tone pleading. "The last thing we wanted was to push you away. We're just trying to keep you safe."
"Safe?" Emily echoed incredulously. "You think making choices for me without even asking me is keeping me safe? You couldn't be more wrong!"
Sirius flinched at her words, his heart sinking. He knew they had made mistakes, but he hadn't realized just how deep the wounds ran. "We never wanted to hurt you. I love you, Emily. I want to be there for you. We both do."
James nodded fervently, stepping closer. "We're here for you, no matter what. Please, just talk to us. Tell us what you want."
Emily's expression softened momentarily as she looked at her brother, then at Sirius, but the distance remained palpable. "I want to be treated like an adult, not some child you have to protect. I need you to trust me."
James felt his frustration bubble to the surface. "We do trust you! But you're still—"
"Pregnant," she finished for him, her eyes blazing. "Yes, I know. But that doesn't mean I'm incapable of making my own choices. I need you two to understand that I'm not a helpless little girl."
Sirius approached her slowly, his heart pounding in his chest. "We care about you, Emily. We just want to ensure you have everything you need."
"I don't need you to fight my battles for me," she snapped, tears pooling in her eyes. "What I need is for you to be out of my bloody way! You have never been there; never will be! So shut up James!"
Emily's eyes blazed with a fire that seemed to ignite as the emotions she had been bottling inside came spilling out. The clouds of hurt and anger hung over them, ready to unleash a storm. She squared her shoulders and faced her brother and Sirius, fists clenched at her sides.
"Do you think I want your help?" she shouted, her voice cutting through the silence like a knife. "You both don't see me; you see a problem to be fixed. Well, I'm done playing along with your little fantasy that everything is going to be okay if you just put on a brave face!"
James recoiled, hurt flashing across his features. "Emily, that's not what we—"
"Shut up!" she yelled, cutting him off. "You think you can just make decisions for me? You think you're protecting me? Mum and Dad are gone!" Her breath hitched as the words tumbled from her lips, raw and haunting. "They're dead! And here you both are, trying to control my life like I can't take care of myself!"
Sirius took a step forward, desperation etched into his face. "Em—"
"I don't want to hear it!" she thundered, tears streaming down her cheeks in anger and frustration. "You keep talking about being there for me, but all I see is your bloody incompetence! You're useless!" Her voice broke with emotion. "Pining after Lily for so many years while our lives are falling apart! You've been so busy chasing after her that you can't even see how much you're failing me!"
James's features fell, the accusation hitting him like a sucker punch. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came as hurt swept through him like a crashing wave. Emily seethed, eyes blazing with fury. Taking a step back, his heart sinking under the weight of her words, the truth slicing through him.
"Emily, we never meant to—"
"Stop!" she roared, cutting him off again. "Just stop! I'm sick of being your charity case, your project. I don't need saving; I don't need you to protect me! I want to—!" Emily's voice trembled with indignation as she struggled to finish her thought. "I want to be treated like an adult and not like some little girl you're ashamed of!"
James clenched his fists, anger now mixing with a deep sadness. "We care about you, Emily! We've always cared!"
"Caring isn't enough!" she screamed, her face flushed with fury. "Caring doesn't fix anything! You both think you can handle this alone, but you cannot! You have no idea what I'm going through!"
The room fell silent except for Emily's ragged breaths as she stared at them, the air crackling with unvoiced emotions. The realization of how far apart they had drifted hit James hard, but he refused to back down completely. Fueled by a sudden surge of determination, he took a deep breath.
"We can work on this together," he tried again, softer this time, though the tremor in his voice betrayed his fear. "But you have to let us in. Please, Emily."
"I don't want your help! I want you to stay out of my bloody way!" she shouted, her anger radiating like a force field. "You can't save me, James! You can't save anything!"
The anger simmered in the air, thick and heavy, as Emily turned away, tears now streaking down her face, forming a dam to keep the hurt inside. She wrapped her arms around herself, the walls she had built around her heart feeling thicker than they had before.
"Just leave me alone," she said, her voice barely a whisper as she faced the kitchen counter, the distance between them becoming insurmountable.
James and Sirius exchanged glances, the weight of her words settling in the space between them like an immovable object. They stood frozen, uncertain, unsure of how to bridge the gap that had widened and deepened in mere moments.
"Em, we—" Sirius began, but the words died on his lips, the emptiness in the room growing darker and heavier than before. Her anger bubbled just beneath the surface, and without another word, she turned sharply on her heel and stormed out of the kitchen. The sound of her footsteps echoed against the wooden floor, firm and resolute.
"Emily, wait!" James called after her, desperation creeping into his voice. But the only response was the muted sound of the front door slamming shut, reverberating through the house like a thunderclap. Sirius stood frozen, shock written across his face as he processed the intensity of the moment and the gravity of their confrontation.
"I think we just lost her, James," he muttered, his heart sinking deeper into despair.
James pulled a hand through his messy hair, his mind racing. "No, we haven't lost her. She just… needs space. She's hurting, and we pushed too hard," he replied, though doubt lingered in his heart.
"That's an understatement," Sirius said, his tone tinged with frustration. "We were trying to help, but it all backfired spectacularly. I didn't think she would explode like that."
James took a step back, leaning against the kitchen counter for support. "I thought she was finally going to let us in. I don't understand how it went so wrong. I just wanted—"
"To protect her," Sirius finished, his frustration morphing into understanding. "But how do you protect someone who doesn't want to be saved? She feels trapped, James. We're not helping her if we're trying to control every little thing."
A heavy silence hung between them as they let the weight of her words settle. Together, they were left grappling with the realization that they might have pushed Emily further away, and the prospect of mending that rift felt daunting.
dot*
March 22 1978, 18:18
London England
As the evening sky darkened and the hospital's fluorescent lights flickered to life, Emily held her stomach, clenched tightly in the grips of another brutal contraction. The sharp pain coursed through her like a bolt of lightning, and she couldn't help the wave of frustration that swelled alongside it. As Potter and Black wheeled her into the delivery room, she was keenly aware of the agitation simmering within her. Beneath the sterile beeps of the monitors, a storm brewed—one that had been gathering for months. Lily, the one woman she felt could offer some semblance of support, was burdened with the baggage of her relationship with her brother, and Emily couldn't shake off the feeling of betrayal that would loomed over her like a heavy cloud.
Potter had been her brother, but he had lost the title in Emily's eyes the moment he put himself first at every turn, even after she had needed him most. And then there was Black, who had left her to navigate the confusion and emotional wreckage from the Christmas Ball. She felt that same gnawing disappointment whenever she looked at him. A desperate scream escaped her as another wave hit, the intensity almost blinding. The room was filled with well-meaning faces, all radiating concern and warmth, but she felt none of it. Instead, she could only see the fractures in all their relationships, the unresolved tensions that bound her to them in a web of complicated emotions.
"You're doing amazing, Emmy," said Black, his voice gentle but filled with an infuriating calm.
"Am I?" she huffed, the words laced with desperation. "This is absolute hell, and I want to speak to Arlo."
The thought of her dear friend, a budding Healer-in-training and far less tangled in their emotional chaos, provided a glimmer of hope — a voice of reason she desperately craved. Very briefly she was taken back to the evening at the Christmas Ball when he confessed to loving her and how he held her with such tender care.
"Arlo?" Potter echoed, confusion etched across his face as the monitor beeped rapidly with her rising heartbeat. "He's not here, Em. He's at home for the holiday. There's no way to reach him."
The frustration boiled over, igniting a fierce rebellion against the love and sympathy flooding the room. Lily reached for her hand, trying to ground her with a soothing touch, but Emily pulled away.
"Don't! Just don't!" she shouted, a mix of anger and pain directing her ire. "Where is the support when it truly matters? You lot have never been there for me!"
"Emmy, please," Black implored as anxiety crossed his features. "You need to focus. The baby is coming. It's all going to be alright."
"Is it?" she shot back, voice trembling with emotion. "Or are you all just pretending that everything is fine because it's easier that way? You … you abandoned me at the Christmas Ball! And now you want me to believe you're here for me? It feels like a cruel joke!"
The heaviness in the room grew palpable, and for a moment, silence hung thick. The gentle beeping of the monitor was the only sound piercing through the tension. Potter and Black exchanged a look with Lily, but Emily bypassed their concern, her focus entirely on the ceiling. She wasn't ready to forgive or forget. Not yet. Not ever.
"I want my friend here," she repeated, her voice quieter but filled with steely resolve. "I want Arlo. I need someone I can talk to who isn't tied up in all this bloody mess."
"You won't get any better care than here," the Healer chimed in, stepping closer, her face calm yet firm. "You're surrounded by people who care, who will support you through this."
But Emily shook her head vehemently, her heart racing with a mix of pain and adrenaline. "Support? You mean feeling like I'm drowning? No, thanks!"
Black winced at her words, guilt flashing across his face. "We're all here for you, Emmy. Please, don't shut us out."
"You don't get it, do you?" she scoffed, bitterness dripped from her words. "You don't know what it's like to feel so utterly alone while surrounded by people you thought were your family."
As another contraction seized her, she breathed heavily, struggling against the tide of emotions threatening to overwhelm her.
"YOU," she said, turning her icy gaze toward her brother, "You don't get to act like the concerned brother now! You've been so wrapped up in your own bloody shit that you've ignored me for years."
"Please, Emily, just breathe," Lily urged, her voice cracking slightly, caught in the whirlwind of hurt and anguish. But Emily was relentless as she looked away from the red head.
"No more pretending. I want to talk to Arlo," she repeated, the firmness of her tone echoing across the room as another contraction gripped her.
The Healer stepped in again, but Emily glared at her, fiery determination igniting her gaze.
"I mean it," she said between clenched teeth. "I want to feel secure. I need someone who can help guide me through this, someone I trust."
Black opened his mouth to argue but faltered. The weight of Emily's pain bore itself, her anguish cutting deeper than they were prepared to face. With the distance between them thickening, he realized that desperation ran far deeper than he had understood. But Emily shook her head vehemently once more, determined to maintain her stance as her hand tightened around Black's. She felt the heat in her chest igniting with an intensity that demanded attention. The tension grew thick, suffocating as they all grappled with the realities surrounding them.
And in that moment of unresolved emotions, Emily recognized the stark truth: she felt vigor coursing through her, battling fatigue, anger, and fear. With every passing beep of the monitors, she braced herself against the negotiations of emotions swirling within. There was a part of her still clinging to the hope of connection and healing, but it was obscured by a refusal to let go of the pain and anger that had held her captive for too long. She needed clarity, and Arlo was her tether to that clarity, or at least the belief that such an anchor could exist.
"Find him," she demanded fiercely again. The weight of her declaration lingered, reverberating through the hearts of everyone in that room, while Emily fought for control. Black felt the tension coiling tighter around them all. The anger etched in her face was undeniable, and beneath it lurked a deeper pain — one that he could no longer ignore. He took a step forward, grounding himself in the chaotic reality of the moment as her emotional demands thundered in the space between them.
"Emily," he began, his voice steady but laced with urgency. "Stop this. Just … stop."
Her eyes flared with indignation, poised to shoot back a biting retort, but something in his tone halted her. The sharpness in her expression faltered slightly as confusion danced with her ire.
"What do you mean, stop? You think I can just lay idly while in pain?" Her voice trembled with the weight of her emotions, each word sharp and pointed.
"Yes, I do," Black countered firmly, his eyes raking over her tear stained face. "You need to understand that Arlo isn't here, and he won't be. He's at home, and it's not like we can just conjure him up in the middle of all this." He took a breath, letting the gravity of the situation settle around them. "I know you care about him, but he won't be the one bringing our child into the world. I will."
"But—" she started, but he cut her off gently.
"I am this child's father, Emily! And whether you like it or not, I'm supposed to be here. I'm right in front of you, ready to support you through this. I'm more than a warm body standing beside you — I'm the one who loves you, regardless of how things have fallen apart between us."
Her body stiffened at his words, anger and turmoil flashing in her eyes as they met his earnest gaze. The tension in the air felt electric, crackling with unspoken emotions, but the man held his ground. If she wanted honesty, he would give it to her. Emily's breath hitched, the stubbornness in her eyes faltering as she absorbed his words.
"Arlo can't help you right now. You want to believe that he can just swoop in and fix everything because he's safe, but he's not your partner. I am. I know this isn't easy for you," Sirius pressed on, softening his voice. "But you have to let go of the idea that he is the answer. You're the one who pushed me away, and I don't entirely get it, but this isn't the time for resentment, Emily. The time for that has passed — this is about our baby."
She looked around the room, feeling the weight of the others' gazes settling on her, their expressions a mix of concern, sympathy, and uncertainty. Potter and Lily stood off to the side, the tension emanating from Emily powerful enough that it felt like a physical barrier. The warmth of their support felt foreign, and it only added to the bitterness she was wrestling with.
"But I don't know if you can handle this," she whispered, a small crack forming in her emotional armor. "You hurt me before! You were gone when I needed you, Sirius!"
"I'm right here now," he replied, his eyes locked onto hers with unwavering focus. "I want to be here for you — right now, during this. You can lean on me, and if you still want to talk to Arlo after, you can. But not like this. Not while you're trying to bring a life into this world."
The warmth in his voice started to pierce through her resistance. Another contraction squeezed her body, pulling her from the thoughts abruptly. The overwhelming feeling left her breathless, pushing aside the thin thread of resentment she clung to. Forcing her eyes back to Sirius, she saw sincerity etched into every feature—his nervous energy danced with something deeper, something rooted in love.
"Fine," she whispered, trembling not just from the pain but from the shifting currents in her heart. "Be here. But don't expect me to magically forgive you for everything. Bloody prick!"
Black nodded, relief washing over him. The fight between them dimmed, receding into the background with every pained breath she took.
"We'll take it a step at a time, okay? For now, I just want you to breathe and focus on this little one."
Exhaling slowly, Emily locked eyes with him, and she felt the minimal trust settle softly between them, surrounded by the support of their family. Maybe this wasn't perfect, and perhaps it raised more questions than answers for them both, but it was real. And despite the chaotic history they shared, the most important thing remained unwavering — the tiny life that was about to come into the world was theirs.
Nodding firmly once more, she let out a terrible scream that followed with a burst of joy and chaos, as a small cry broke out a moment later. It was at that moment, a small tuff of curly black emerged, telling them that the baby was finally here. Their hearts surged with a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration as the small, wailing form was placed into her arms. The world around her blurred momentarily; all that existed was the tiny life cradled against her chest.
As she gazed down at their child, the chaos of labor faded into the background, replaced by an overwhelming sense of love. The baby's curly black hair framed a delicate face, and the way dark hazel eyes blinked up at Emily sent a swell of emotions crashing over. She couldn't help but smile through her tears, her heart swelling with pride and a fierce maternal instinct she never knew she possessed. Black leaned closer so that he could see their baby better, awe written all over his face.
"She's perfect, Emmy," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Absolutely perfect."
His thumb gently traced the curve of her cheekbone, drawing Emily's attention back to him. Lily and Potter hovered close by, joy bursting from them like fireworks. Lily stepped forward first, her green eyes glistening with tears of happiness as she pressed a gentle kiss to Emily's forehead.
"You did it, Emily! You're incredible!" she beamed, her voice shaky with emotion.
Potter, leaning on the edge of the bed, couldn't tear his gaze from the tiny miracle before them.
"You were amazing, Em," he added, an equal mix of admiration and pride filling his tone. "We were all worried, but you…" he shook his head, still trying to process everything. "You were a warrior."
Emily smiled faintly, the ache of labor still present but now dulled by the miracle she held. Black leaned in even closer, gently brushing his fingers against the baby's soft, fragile skin. The baby instinctively turned her head toward him, a tiny grace that tugged at his heartstrings.
"Come here, little one," whispered Black, his voice heavy with love.
As if sensing his presence, the little one let out a soft coo, and he couldn't help but chuckle. Smoothly, he shifted to take her from Emily's arms, cradling her with a tenderness that made everyone's hearts swell even the attending Healer who was checking Emily over fully.
"I think she likes me," he said with a playful wiggle of his eyebrows, causing everyone to chuckle softly.
"Of course she likes you," Lily teased, joining them at the bedside. "You've got that whole charming rogue thing going on."
As he rocked the baby gently back and forth, her little eyes fluttering sleepily, the atmosphere in the room shifted once more. The beeping faded into a tranquil backdrop, the tension of the earlier moments dissipating. Emily knew in that instant that they were all bound together in this new chapter of their lives, a family forged from trials and bonds that could not be broken.
"Welcome to the world, Aurora," Emily whispered, her heart full, a newfound hope blooming within her. "You're so loved."
And as Black held their baby, her tiny form nestled comfortably against him, he looked up at Emily, understanding flashing between them. This was it. A beautiful, broken beginning filled with endless possibilities, laughter, and love. A losing love that would guide them through whatever storms lay ahead.
"Welcome to the world, little one," he whispered as Emily looked up at the clock.
23:08, or 11:08pm… Or the numeric version of Sirius's birthday.
dot*
James and Lily excused themself to Godric's Hollow as Sirius and Emily settled for their first night as parents. Between the Medi-Healers checking on Emily and Aurora, Sirius remained mostly beside them the entire time. He knew that he had to announce the birth to his family, but as he gazed upon their sleeping forms, he knew that their lives would never be the same again.
Here he was, a father, and Emily a mother. It was probably several hours later, his eyes finally closed as he nestled them in his arms. Surrounded by the chaos and beauty of birth, they knew this moment was to last a lifetime and would cherish this moment forever. A moment of pure magic and wonder as they watched Aurora coo in her sleep. His heart bursted with love and emotions, knowing this little girl would bring joy and light into their lives – and he couldn't wait to see what the future held for them. Reaching out with a shaking hand and gently stroking Aurora's soft hair, feelings of emotions overwhelmed him. He had never felt this way before. He had never imagined that he would be capable of loving someone as much as he loved Emily, and now … now he had a child to love too.
As they watched Aurora's tiny fingers curl around Emily's hand, the stillness of the room was punctuated only by gentle beeping. Emily turned her head toward Sirius, a contemplative expression crossing her face.
"So," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "we need to talk about her godparents."
Sirius raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Already? I thought we were going to bask in the glow of parenthood for a little longer."
Emily rolled her eyes, a smile breaking through her seriousness. "This is important, Sirius. I think Lily should be one. She's perfect for the role."
Sirius nodded, considering this. "That makes sense. Lily is brilliant with kids. But—"
"But James? A godfather?" Emily interrupted, her voice rising slightly in disbelief. "Absolutely not."
Sirius blinked, momentarily taken aback. "Wait, what? You don't want James as her godfather?"
Emily sat up straighter, her expression unwavering. "No, I don't. Can you imagine it? James would have her flying on a broomstick before she can even walk! It's ridiculous."
"Okay, okay, I get it," he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "But who else would you suggest? We can't just leave that position open."
"Arlo," Emily declared, her tone leaving no room for doubt. "He's caring, thoughtful, and has a level of maturity that my idiot brother definitely lacks right now. Plus, he knows how to handle things with a calm demeanor. I want him as her godfather."
Sirius's face morphed into a mix of surprise and concern. "Arlo? But what about—"
"Look," Emily pressed, her voice steady. "We have to think about what's best for Aurora. My brother is not responsible enough. Arlo would take it seriously."
He scratched his head, glancing from Emily to the sleeping baby. "You really feel that strongly about this? You want to fight James on it?"
"Absolutely," she asserted. "And I will. If we're going to ensure Aurora has the right support, we need to make this choice together. Think about it: would you rather have James, who will probably turn every serious moment into a prank, or Arlo, who will be there when it matters?"
Sirius let out a long breath, the weight of the decision settling over him. "Alright, I see your point. But he's not going to take this lightly."
Emily crossed her arms, her expression fierce yet affectionate. "Good! Let him argue. I'm not backing down. Arlo deserves the chance to step up, and I believe he will."
Sirius met her gaze, and in that moment, he knew she meant every word. A small smile crept onto his face as he nodded in defeat. "Okay, Arlo it is."
As they settled back into their quiet watch over Aurora, the budding sense of unity between them filled the room with warmth. They were embarking on a journey together—one that would challenge them but also weave their lives together in ways they couldn't yet imagine.
dot*