Lion Heart³ | James Potter

ten

"Calm down, old man," Sirius chuckled, ducking away from Monty's hold. Monty gasped loudly and stood, making his chamomile tea spill on the table. "How dare you, sir! I am middle-aged!"

James laughed along, but he knew it wasn't true.

For years, his father had been rocking the one streak grey in the front of his crazy hair. Years after that, he rocked the greying sides, making it blend brilliantly with his black.

Now, he had no black strands left, all of it grey on top of his head, his beard matching it. It was still as full as James', just grey.

But they couldn't deny it. He was old now.

Sirius nudged James in the side, making him snap back with a guilty look. He was looking at the clock again. 

Andrea had left at the start of the day and she still hadn't shown up. James looked at his watch once again and let out a long breath. He accepted the clean plates Peter passed him and put them up in the cupboard, the last of their dinner cleared away.

They all sat down in the sitting room to join Sirius and Monty, everyone with a hot mug of tea with them.

Mia set the box of leftovers down on the table in front of James. "Take this back for Andrea, would you? She's probably forgotten to eat if she's working. Shame she couldn't make it today."

She said it with a smile, but James knew she was worrying as well. Ever since they all told his parents about the Order, she worried daily about her kids being in danger. 

James knew his parents were proud of him for joining the fight through the Auror department, just like they were doing. 

But the Order was a different thing.

They were the front line.

James sent his mother a tired smile, appreciating the care even if they didn't live at home anymore.

You always worry and care for your loved ones, even if they aren't there.

Most times, that's when you worry most. Because then you can't see their pain. And it's harder to fix it.

-//-

11th of June, Monday, 1979

04:45 AM

(Fire On Fire//Sam Smith)

Andrea bit down on her tongue as a whimper wanted to escape. She limped slowly up the three steps leading to the front door, still hoping strongly that James had gone to bed.

But that was wishful thinking.

As soon as she opened the front door, she noticed most of the lights were still lit and she heard the scraping of a chair being pushed back come from the kitchen.

She kept her eyes on the archway where she knew her fiancé would soon appear, forcing a relaxed smile onto her face.

But he didn't come. 

She pursed her lips and walked slowly, trying to soften her limp with miniature steps. She reached the archway and fought hard to keep her lips from slipping into a frown.

James had definitely moved a chair when she arrived because she had heard it. But now he was still seated at the kitchen island, his back to her.

Without turning, he slowly slid a plate to the seat next to him, a chill going through Andrea at his cold demeanour even before he spoke a word. 

"Mum wanted you to have some leftovers seeing as you couldn't make it for dinner," he said in a clipped tone.

Andrea rolled her shoulders back and held her head high, not wanting to fold first. "Thank you," she said casually. She started striding confidently towards the fridge but slowed her steps as her limp became very obvious.