Blackbird

Chapter 11: Maybe, Then Again, Maybe Not

We'd been walking in an uncomfortable silence for a bit before James finally spoke up.

"Are you okay?" He asked it as a normal question, not concerned, just genuinely curious. I found myself wanting to give a genuine answer, but I held back. I wasn't sure if I could... if I could trust him? If I could open up? If I even wanted to?

So I dodgedly asked another question, "What do you mean?"

He shrugged, continuing to face forward while I watched him warily. "I dunno. I haven't talked to you since..." since me and Sirius' first fight. Since our second one. Since my panic attack. He seemed to sense it wasn't a good idea to mention it and coughed awkwardly, "it's been a bit. I just wanted to know if you were okay."

I was stunned, honestly. James Potter was two years older, friends with a werewolf and the adoptive brother of a disowned pureblood. He had his fair share of things to worry about. And yet.

"I don't know. This school year is the most okay I've been in...a long time. But it's all still..." I struggled finding a way to put it into words, "Minette struggles a lot with her own problems, we all do except Willow really. But...but Felix was there. Her twin brother. Cast the full body bind on Willow to get to the bathroom where she was.

"And it's stupid I know. Because her struggles are terrible, I just couldn't help but wish... and that makes Sirius right doesn't it? Merlin, I'm so selfish."

I was closer to crying than I ever allowed myself to get with someone else. Blacks don't cry, especially not with other people. Not unless it's fake to get what you want. Emotions are a taboo, more or less.

They make you vulnerable, especially pain.

We're walking much slower than we started, but I still stumble when James slings an arm over my shoulders for an awkward sort of half hug. He keeps me upright, Merlin knows I'm not actually heavy enough for him to struggle. I mean, he's James Potter.

"You're not selfish. Sirius is just an idiot." He seems sad, his tone heavier than the weight of his arm.

It doesn't take long to realize what that means. "You got in a fight."

A long sigh is all the confirmation I need. It's a bad idea, but I lean into the strange half hug as we continue to walk. He's warm, and comforting, it's hard to explain.

"You shouldn't fight. He loves you." I don't know what the fight was about, but I know it wasn't worth splitting them apart. Nothing is.

"It was about you."

I pull away in surprise, and his arm drops. I miss it immediately. It's been too long since I've had anything near a hug.

No I don't count the one he gave me when I was having a mental breakdown.

"Why?" Why fight over me? It's his best friend, his brother in everything but blood.

"Because you deserved better."

By Morgana's cloak I shouldn't be sad. It showed that he cared, but this?

"No one gets what they deserve in this life James. It's not worth fighting your right hand man about." I think back to the boy we left in the kitchens and I get confused. "Lupin took your side?"

A wry smile appears on his lips and he shakes his head, chuckling. "You Blacks and your sides. Yes, he agreed with me. Abandonment is something Moony doesn't put up with."

It makes sense, and I nod, continuing on my way to Herbology. "Because he's a werewolf, right?"

There's a croaking sound, and James fumbles to catch up. "What on earth would give you that idea?" He's scratching the back of his head, looking adorably scatterbrained, and I can't help but raise a brow in amusement.

"Well first, you are a terrible actor. And secondly..." I can almost feel my smile disappearing as the sadness sets in. It always happens when I think about the past. "Siri told me. Before...everything. Did you all succeed in becoming animagi?"

He still looks flustered, but not overly so. "I can't give away all my brothers' secrets. Unlike some people apparently."

"So that's a yes?"

James groans, and begins pulling me faster across the grounds, "You're going to be late to Herbology."

"Touchy. You didn't turn into a Pygmy puff, did you?" I laugh as he begins to curse my brother, trying unsuccessfully not to smile. "I bet it was a pink one."

I get a laugh out of that. It's nice to see him happy. He should be happy, they both should.

"Go talk to him okay? This problem... it's between me and him. Don't let it tear your group apart." His smile doesn't disappear, but it's smaller, sadder.

"You too, okay? You both deserve to be happy."

I just shake my head, my own smile sad and worn. "I told you James, no one gets what they deserve. It's a dangerous way of thinking, you know. People think they deserve more, or nothing at all. But we can't always control things like that. Just what we do with what we're given."

If it's one thing this boy doesn't know, it's how to give up. "I still think-"

"You don't get it James. It doesn't matter what we think. Moony will still be a werewolf, my parents will still be terrible, and Sirius still left." I'm trying to get him to see my reasoning, until I remember that's not the point.

"This isn't your problem to fix. Your mess to clean up. Your best friend needs you."

His shoulders slump, resigned, before he looks me straight in the eye. "What about you?"

I glance ahead of us at the greenhouse and nearly let out a string of curses that would've made Peeve's ears bleed. "I, am going to be late. Catch you later Potter."

He laughs as I run, the sound chasing me down to the green house. I practically crash through the door, and I can hear him laugh louder.

Professor Sprout, a young, normally cheery woman, fixes me with a look that would've made McGonagall proud. "Ms Black, if you want to go on a nice stroll with Mr Potter please do it outside of class time."

I'm sure I'm nearly bright red from all the insinuations and rumors I can practically feel my classmates coming up with. I manage to force out a "Yes Professor." and make my way to a table with a few quiet Hufflepuff kids.

One of them leans over, "Was that really James Potter?"

I nearly bang my forehead against the desk. How fitting, James Potter is going to be the death of me.