James sat in front of the fireplace at the manor that chilly December morning. The manor had not felt the same since his parents' sudden deaths from Dragon Pox. Their home, once filled with joy and love, now seemed too quiet. In front of the flames, memories of his parents overwhelmed him. Every Christmas, they would gather in this very spot, sipping hot cocoa and laughing until the early hours of the morning. How excited and proud his parents were of every single one of his achievements, small or large, whether it was getting in on the Quidditch team or remembering his friends' favorite desserts. He swore he could still smell his mother's perfume and hear his father's booming laughter when he walked through the Manor.
It had been less than a year since he had graduated from Hogwarts when his parents became ill. Their deaths had come so abruptly, and the sickness had evolved so rapidly that James had been unable to keep up, even if he had wanted to. Now, James felt as hallow as the place he used to call home. All he could do was try to keep Padfoot afloat, not let him drown in his pain and loss. Sirius was James' brother, regardless of blood, and the Potters had loved the disowned Marauder like a son. Pads had found the caring parents he had never had with them. The day Sirius had shown up at his house, injured and scared, was a day James would never forget.
To this day, it pained him to only be able to watch as his best friend and brother struggle. It took months for Sirius to stop flinching every time anyone approached him. But his mother's warm embrace and his father's unwavering strength were able to heal the wounds. However, this was not the case anymore. And the war was not helping, with all the stress and the loss of friends in battles where the enemy was always a step ahead. It was James' responsibility to keep everyone together, to not let them fall apart.
He didn't have time, or at least he didn't allow himself some time, to think about the things and people he had already lost: his parents, his dreams of becoming a Quidditch player, his decision to become an Auror to help in the war, and his relationship with Regulus, doomed from the start as they fought on opposite sides of this conflict. As much as he'd like not to think about it, it was impossible to erase those memories, those what-ifs. As James watched the flames dance, he pictured the last time he saw Regulus, screaming at each other spiteful and hurtful words he regretted now, begging him to not choose the darkness of Voldemort's ranks. But above all, he remembered the all-consuming silence as they both walked away.
Sirius was in his and Remus' flat today. He spent most of his free time there, as the manor brought up too many painful reminders of the Potters' passing. He locked himself in his room for weeks after the funeral, refusing to speak to anyone, not even James. It hadn't been easy to bring him back, to convince him that life was worth living, that the Potters wouldn't have wanted him to give up. Pads was slowly recovering, putting all of his pain and anger into fighting the war, acting as if nothing could hurt him and that everything was fine. But James knew better. He knew that Sirius still broke down when no one was looking when the memories became too much to bear.
Yesterday, when James and Sirius had been on Auror duty, between fooling around and making jokes, Sirius had suddenly become deadly serious and uncommonly quiet. The conversation and revelations that followed were still fresh in James' memory.
"I'm going to ask Moony to marry me today. Even if we can't actually legally marry in the Wizarding or Muggle world. I might even take his name. I bet the Blacks will love that." Sirius declared as casually as he could as if he were discussing the weather.
James couldn't help but let a smile spread across his face. He thought it was great, maybe a little too rushed, but he can't blame them. Still, he couldn't stop the ugly feeling of envy and jealousy from bubbling up inside him, not because of Sirius or Remus, but more because he wanted that for himself. He wanted someone to share the rest of his life with. He used to dream about his future with Regulus, but those plans never materialized, crushed by the relentless war that had taken so much from them. He later thought he might have that with Lily, but their relationship crumbled under the pressure of everything going on around them, and the realization that maybe they weren't as suited for each other as they had hoped.
"Congratulations Pads, I'm really happy for you both," James said sincerely, ignoring his own selfish desires. After all, he was happy for them. He knew how much they loved each other and how extremely deserving they both were of this small glimmer of happiness in the darkness.
This morning, however, James felt a bit lost. The war was draining him, and the losses were piling up. Instead of dwelling on it, he stood up and decided to find something to occupy his only day off. He could go visit Pads and Moony, but his mood was a bit too somber for company. Perhaps he could go flying, that always made him feel better. Or he could go to Diagon Alley to buy Christmas presents for his friends. After deciding on the latter, James went to his room to get changed. Ignoring the red scarf his parents had given him for his 16th birthday, he was determined to face the cold without it. After getting dressed, made his way to the fireplace and he was about to step through the Floo when a blue mist caught his eye.