August [j.p]

032- I didn't know if you'd care if I came back

Pulled the car off the road to the lookout
Could've followed my fears all the way down
And maybe I don't quite know what to say
-
this is me trying

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

"James we're not having a Scottish band at our wedding."

"But they have bagpipes." James retaliated. One arm wrapped around his fiancé's waist and the other holding three shopping bags straining with the weight of all their purchases.

"I don't care."

"Fine, no bagpipes, no sex."

August looked up at him and widened her eyes, "Do you see the care in my eyes. You're not even that good."

James gasped dramatically, "You take that back right now."

"No." She argued back, failing to hide a grin.

"Do you need a reminder." James brought his face closer to hers and raised his eyebrows.

"You'll have to wait until our wedding night." She sang back slightly swaying against his side.

James hummed in content, the cold air sneaking in through his collar but the warmth radiating from the girl next to him and the feel of her making a cold afternoon walk feel like heaven.

He supposed this is what it was like to find your soulmate. Ordinary things became beautiful, dreaded things became worthwhile. As long as it was being done together.

"I was thinking about asking Sirius to walk me down the isle." August piped up as the house came into view.

"I just thought I'd ask, since he's your best man. If you don't mind sharing?"

"I don't mind at all darling. If anything he'd be thrilled." James smiled.

"Has your dad passed?" James asked tentatively.

"I don't know. I've never met the man." August replied, her expression hostile.

James understood that some things she wasn't ready to talk about yet, knew that it was unrealistic to expect them to go into their marriage with no secrets. After all, he had one that he would take to the grave.

But a part of him longed to unravel the complicated mess that was August's family.

"When I was four, my mother remarried, Maximillian." She added as an afterthought.

"He's not a good guy then? Assuming you moved halfway across the continent to get away from him?"

"No, he's not. For a while he was but I suspect it was just a front."

"What did he do?"

"Listen James, one day I'll tell you but that day isn't today. And I need you to respect that."

"Anything for you, darling." He reassured, placing a soft kiss on her temple.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

"Sirius?" August knocked on the bedroom door hesitantly, her heart beating wildly in her chest.

"Just a second." She heard him shout from the other side with shuffling and stumbling to accompany his statement.

He threw the bedroom door open, hair wild and lips swollen.

"It's seven in the morning, Merlin Sirius." She tutted mockingly.

"It's wake up sex." Remus shouted from the bed.

"Morning to you too Remus." August smiled sweetly. If possible he looked even more disheveled than Sirius.

"What's up?" Sirius asked.

"Take a walk with me?" She asked.

Not long after the two were strolling down the garden path and following the sound of a small stream.

"You're not having second thoughts about marrying my best mate, are you?" Sirius joked.

"On the contrary. Merlin, I'm excited." She sighed dreamily.

"I suppose everything is ready then."

"I suppose. I'm just waiting on Lori's reply. We had a fallout."

"I see." He replied sympathetically.

"That's beside the point. I was going to ask you if you'd walk me down the aisle."

Sirius stopped in hid tracks and stared down at her. His mouth gaped open and his eyes were as wide as saucers.

"If it's too much to ask then-" she was interrupted by his strong arms gathering her against him.

"Godric. I would love nothing more." He smiled against her cheek and sniffled."

"Are you crying?" She laughed, tears threatening to spill over her own eyes.

"'Course not!" He denied.

"Sure."

"Life's been pretty hard on me August but moments like this, they make me realize how badly I want to live."

August placed her palm on his cheek, "We'll be alright."

"Yeah. We will."

Once they reached the Potter house again it was almost time for lunch and August could smell the pot roast Euphemia had been cooking all morning.

She looked across the street towards her own home, it wasn't really a home. She wondered what her own mother was doing and tried to bury the sympathy she felt.

The woman deserved no sympathy. Not for what she did.

A mother was supposed to spend the weeks stressing with her daughter over wedding caked and table placements not breaking her down and tearing her apart at every opportunity presented.

August was learning that love wasn't supposed to feel like a reward or something that had to be competed for.

Love was omnipresent. In small actions, in small touches, in small words. Looks from across the room and sneaky smiles. Love was a table full of people laughing and a kitchen buzzing with banter. Love was patient. Love was there when there wasn't anyone else. Love didn't abandon and love didn't blame. Love was good and love was kind.

And how lucky she was that she had found it.

Maybe if her mother did, it would've been different. She'd have a father to walk her down the aisle and seats reserved for her own blood.

But she also knew that frankly, her mother had no excuse. Whether she found love or not she could still have fought to be a better person.

It truly did show character. Who was willing to fight to be better and who was willing to just give in.

For a second she contemplated setting another plate at the table and dragging a chair but then she remembered the empty dining room in her own house and her small pink desk chair and thought better if it.

In order to heal and be the best version of herself she could, she needed to get to the root of her trauma and inviting her mother to the table would only water the plant instead of poison it.