Till Forever Falls Apart

Third Year: Another Year, Another Worry

September 1, 1993

Maybe I should be homeschooled.

Val had arrived thirty minutes early, standing before the Hogwarts Express with tantalizing energy. She watched as a boy (who was undoubtedly a first-year) hopped into the train while his teary-eyed parents waved goodbye.

It reminded her of her own dad who had blubbered embarrassingly just two years ago, full of dreams and hopes for her that had been somewhat plundered. Life didn't seem to take their happy anticipations into consideration.

Everyone, for the first time since she had started school at Hogwarts, had arrived to bid them goodbye and see Val and Remus off. Marlene had cut her hair over the course of the last few weeks Val had not seen her, now wearing a fashionably shortly-styled haircut that suited her well with Dorcas on her arm. Mary, now more protective than ever, had come to the house just yesterday to help sort her things and ensure that she would be safe, but was easing her own worries more than Val's.

James and Lily, of course, were present with Harry at their side, saying their own farewells and hugging him closely. He was now almost at eye level with James, which seemed to cause the father a bit of distress, wondering where the years of his son's life were going as both grew older. Lily kissed Harry over and over, wishing him good luck and promising that he would love his third year as much as she did, sharing the same proclamation she made every year.

"If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to write," she held his face in her hands, smiling gently. "Even if it's something as simple as missing a pair of socks."

"I've packed all of my socks," Harry told her. "I'll be fine, Mum...I'll miss both of you until quidditch matches."

Lily hugged him once again, squeezing her son tightly and hoping he still needed her as his boyish days were coming to a close. "We love you. And if you see someone struggling, or you are struggling yourself-"

"I know," Harry moaned, tired of hearing the same thing a thousand times over. "There's never any shame in asking for help, and it's good to help others."

James patted his head, beaming with fatherly admiration as he turned his sights on Sirius, standing gloomily off to the side while Remus and Val checked the time.

She hated that her dad would open the door of their house and have no one to go home to. She even more so disliked the thought of him sitting alone at the dining table, eating his meals in a quiet surrounding with no one to share his jokes with, or discuss whatever his mind thought of. "We'll miss you, Dad. I'm sure you can come and see us whenever you'd like now that Dad's a teacher there."

He drew her close, smiling faintly when he noticed that she was wearing the leather jacket he had given her last Christmas. "Don't worry about me, dear. I'll have things to do."

"That's precisely why I worry," she joked. He was always at his best when he made spur-of-the-moment decisions rather than lists and organized time frames. "Don't do anything rash."

Sirius' smile hardly grazed his lips. "I'll try."

His dark eyes flitted to his husband, Remus' eyes moving from his shoes to meet his. They shared a mutual, inaudible passing of words, knowing there was more to be said through their gaze. Upon seeing her fathers' look, Val unwound her arms from Sirius and stepped back, allowing them their own goodbyes while time permitted.

"I don't think I've said goodbye to you for such an amount of time in years," Sirius shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Doesn't sit right."

Remus stepped forward, holding him with both hands. He then leaned forward, whispering something in his love's ear before pulling back, watching as the light in Sirius' eyes changed, from dim to warped bursts of sun.