Nova

James Fleamont Potter

When Remus returned, Sirius straightened up immediately.

"And," the hope in his voice shattered something in James' heart, "what did he say? Is he coming?"

Apparently his friends words had a similar effect on Remus because his expression was softer than James had ever seen it. He shook his head lightly and said, "I'm sorry Pads, I don't think he's ready." Then lowered himself beside Sirius on the couch, wincing a little at the movement.

"Oh," Sirius blinked, "oh that's okay, maybe next time," he said, forcing a smile and then letting his head fall back, his hair spilling black ink.

James watched as Peter scooted a bit closer to Sirius, touching his arm gently and talking to him in a soft murmur. He got up then, grabbing a few of the empty beer bottles and carried them into the kitchen and began washing the dishes.

Soaking the plates he almost startled when a tall shape appeared beside him. Almost. He was used to the wolfs silence, but Remus was still a sneaky bastard sometimes.

Glancing at the mischievous glint in the others eye he laughed and bumped his shoulders with Remus'.

"You twat, I'm gonna have a heartattack because of you one day."

Remus let his head drop in consideration, taking one of the dishes off of James hand and started drying.

"Oh I think if you'd just cut back on the junkfood you might still have a few good years ahead of you. Maybe even a decade ..."

James grinned and Remus smiled.

They worked quietly for a while and James waited for Remus to work out what he came here to say. At the end, it was a question.

"Was it like this with Sirius?"

"When he got out you mean?"

Remus nodded.

He considered for a minute. "No. Sirius was ... It was really strange. He was ecstatic about these little things, like dessert or something. And he seemed content most of the time. But then," he paused, looking directly at Remus, "then he sometimes just broke down, over nothing. He spilled a glass of milk once and he was just ... I couldn't get him to calm down for hours.

"And he was convinced my parents would throw him out, every second of every day. No matter how good they were to him or how often we told him he was family now."

Remus had his intense gaze hefted on James and gave a quiet humming sound in understanding.

"I guess those words don't mean a lot if the only family you've ever had abandoned and abused you."

"Yeah," James agreed, something heavy lodging in his throat. He picked up another plate, swallowing harshly.

"And Sirius was here on his own accord. He wanted to be here, he loved us. That kid," he jerked his head vaguely into the direction of the terrace, "has no reason to trust us and has been taught very thoroughly every reason to hate us."

Remus shook his head lightly, "I don't think he hates me. He tries to, but I don't think he does anymore."

"Yeah that's the problem with that whole pureblooded ideology shit innit? It doesn't really make sense. I mean sure on paper it works, but then you go out and you meet people," he sent Remus a meaningful glance, "good people, who are also werewolves and all of a sudden nothing makes sense anymore."

A bashful smile appeared on Remus' face and he ducked his head.

"I guess so ... But," his smile faltered again as he looked up, "Jamie I don't think he's getting better. I think it's robbing him of the last bit of something to hold onto and there's nothing new to replace it. He's spiralling I can tell."

"Well, at least he's still here right?" James asked carefully, "I was pretty sure he'd be a goner sooner or later. That's gotta mean something ..."

"Yeah, mean's he's got nowhere else to go Prongs," Remus watched him carefully, "you know I think I understand it a little better than most people, his ah aggression?"

James didn't like labelling people. He found it restricted them. Forced them to act out things they might've left behind ages ago. But there was no denying that some of Regulus patterns where not very peaceful. Not to others, and definitely not to himself.

"How do you mean?"

"Well," Remus pondered a moment, "I hated myself and my life and my fate for a really long time you know. And all that comes with a lot of anger, there's just this rage at everyone and everything, because no one understands and no one can help and you don't want anyone to help and you're so desperate you just get angry.

"My fury wasn't outside a lot. I was an angry kid but it was .." he searched for the right words.

"Quiet." James finished and Remus smiled a little.

"Yeah I was quiet with it. But then, then came the wolf," something flashed through Remus eyes, a warning, a threat, "the wolf wasn't quiet. The wolf was violent. And I tried to keep that inside and that just makes you hate everything more."

He walked to the cabinets, beginning to pile glasses inside and chuckled, "I hated you lot you know?"

James couldn't help but laugh as well, "oh trust me: I know. Sirius was devastated, he wanted to be friends with you so badly. He kept stuffing chocolates into your pockets in hopes you'd 'get a little sweeter'," he said, adding air quotes with his pruned up hands.

Remus turned with genuine surprise on his face. "That was Sirius?" James gave a nod, "And I always thought the house elves just really liked me."

They both grinned and Remus came back, taking up the last remaining dishes and stowing them away. Then he leaned onto the counter, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"You know I didn't hate you because of anything you did, I hated you because I thought you could do all the things I never could."

He looked at James, who gave him an encouraging nod. Remus took a deep breath.

"I thought that the only reason Pete could be all soft and vulnerable was because he had never known a harsh word in his life. I thought that you could only be so kind because your parents had shielded you from all the wrongs in the world. And I thought that Sirius could only come up with more mischief than Peeves because he had never seen a monster in flesh and blood," there was something bitter in Remus' tone at that last sentence.

"And then he came back with those scars in second year ..." Remus swallowed, holding James' gaze with his amber eyes, "and I could hear him cry in your bed all through the night. And I watched him every morning as he gathered his wits and kept going despite of knowing a monster, breathing and all."

"And then Peter told us about his anxiety, the way some people bullied him and your mom got sick and that's when I got it. You guys were nice and soft and wild and happy and sad despite all of it. And I ... I was hiding behind my lycanthropy because sometimes being alone seems like your only option."

James took his friend in, then started playing with one of the golden rings on his fingers.

"You think that's how Regulus feels?"

Remus frowned. "No."

He leaned towards James, "I think Regulus feels ten times worse."

"Shit," James shook his head, "you think we can help?"

Remus considered this, "he has to want it Jamie, he has to want to get better, otherwise it's hopeless."

James nodded, a familiar sensation of determination washing over him. Hopeless was not a word in the Potter's dictionary.