Unravel | Jeverus

Part 9

James woke up but didn't open his eyes.

He felt hands raking through his hair and arms around his waist. Two sets of hands, one hugging him from behind and another playing as a pillow under his head.

He felt warm from all sides, his legs tangled with someone else's.

" Are you awake?" Severus whispered and James opened his eyes.

The hands playing with his hair was Severus', separating the rough pieces and massaging his scalp. He didn't realise but he had hit his head at some point and the sore spot was still hurting.

" yeah..." James whispered.

" Lily's asleep like usual." Severus said softly.

Every moment they've had together, Lily was there. He didn't know if it was helpful of frustrating.

" She's always asleep." James smiled but it was so small that is Severus wasn't already looking at his face he would've missed it.

" I know."

They stayed silent but Severus' small, comforting movements didn't stop. Severus didn't dare move closer until he saw that James' eyes had closed. He didn't hold onto him tighter until his breathing evened and he didn't place a kiss on his head until James' body relaxed.

He'd never let James feel alone again. He'd never let him feel vulnerable.

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When James woke up, for real this time he was alone. The clock read 12pm and he realised it was probably lunch time now.

There was a small note on his side table that read We had to go. Classes :( If you need us call for us ok? And James muttered a quiet ok to himself like he was responding to them.

He laid back down and ran his hand up and down his arm. It was like a habit, a weird one. He felt the scars through the shirt fabric and let out a shutter. He turned to his closet where a fresh uniform had been hanging for days now. Even on days he went out of the tower he didn't wear a uniform.

It would show too much and the red, his once favorite color sent chills down his spine.

But today when he looked at it he didn't shiver. He didn't want to throw it in the trash and burn it, he didn't turn away to hide away from it like a coward.

He stood up and pulled the white shirt off the hanger. He discarded it onto the floor and dug into his closet for a dress shirt his father gave him before he left. A clean, slightly too big dress shirt in the color black. His father only ever wore dark shirts. It made him look intimidating but strong.

He pulled it on over his thin turtleneck and pulled out his dress pants. Charcoal grey and tailored by his mother. Even if he couldn't be with them he could wear what they gave him.

So to cheer himself up, he figured he'd look his best.

Gold cufflinks, brand new black robes with the Gryffindor lion stitched onto his left front. His mother got him new robed every quarter because he had a habit of destroying them in practice.

And dress shoes. Italian, just like his Uncle Will's. Eventually he only had two things left, his glasses sitting on the floor and the tie next to it. When he looked in the mirror he didn't see who he was used to.

He didn't see a cheerful, bright, over energetic and in a rush for adventure Potter like he used to. The Gryffindor Seeker that everyone knew the last name of but never his first. The one girls fawned over and who chased after them just as well.