July 2024 Prongsfoot microfics

13. Composed

"How was today?" Sirius asked.

"I want to die. I am dead. Say goodbye to me while you can,"

"So, you're not recruited?" Peter asked.

"Leaving Scotland right now? That's what they demanded. Screw the war, my family and friends, academics! And, what's more, they couldn't even guarantee anything. Flip your life upside down, and then we'll maybe think about letting you in the not-even-good team,"

"So you refused?" Remus questioned.

"I don't know! I just— it was always so simple!" He exclaimed. "And now— I have no idea what to do or what my plans for the future are,"

"Oh! So interesting, James,"

James' eyes were wide, having realised his mistake and Sirius' genuine attempt at making him feel better. "Padfoot—"

Sirius spoke toke on a tone of offence as he spoke, though the glimmer in his eyes. "Your plans, not our plans?"

"Don't you take that tone with me, Sirius Orion Black—"

Remus saw this as his opportunity to do one of the things he loved so much, which was egging Sirius on against anyone (mostly James, of course). "Why shouldn't he? You betrayed him after all those plans you made together, after all,"

James would usually have asked them to do something else, but he needed a distraction. "Because I have not finished!"

"What else is there to add?" James would beg to differ if Sirius stated he wasn't like the other Blacks. He would holler at the reality of where Sirius got his dramatics from.

Peter decided to jump back into the conversation. "So what might you try to add to bring back the love you destroyed?"

"Yeah, what do you have to say for yourself?"

"I have no idea what the future holds for me, but I am confident it will be with you by my side as my lover and brother,"

"Oh!" Sirius said. "Maybe, just this once, I over—"

"Till death do us part,"

Peter frowned. "Where have I heard that before?"

"The last enemy to be defeated shall be death!"

"What's with all the death-related quotes?" Remus told him.

"Erm..." James began as Sirius stared at him intensely. "Mum and Dad may have, erm—"

"James, darling, there's more than the tryout failure, right?"

"Mum and Dad had dragon pox!" James burst out.

"You are surprisingly composed for somebody who found out their parents are on their deathbeds,"

"And I'm adopted. And I'm going to explode if I'm not super composed,"

"What's dragon pox?"

"It means James' parents are going to go green and sick and lose their memories and become weak and eventually die. There are rumours of cures, but people will be after James, and it's not possible to save someone at the age the Potters are in,"

"I'm fine! Don't mind me. It's—" Sirius kissed him, holding him close.

"Okay, we'll give you, erm, space." Remus and Peter dashed out.

"I got their letter just after tryouts. I thought they'd be proud I'd done something with myself. I honestly couldn't see much of life after Hogwarts. I mean, we're likely joining the war, and what next? What if next never comes? So I kept working for Quidditch because it's a constant in my life, and at least I'll have something to do and distract myself and live for, you know? That's always been Quidditch. But I couldn't accept that offer. I tried, Sirius, but I couldn't," James said, the words gushing forth.

"Of course, you couldn't. Accepting it would take everything you are away. It would be fleeing when you could protect others for nothing but the desire for a better life. It would mean leaving us all behind, leaving your parents behind. And I'd follow you anywhere, you know that, but leaving school on top of everything? Not having an opportunity to return, no less. And they couldn't even admit that they were nothing without the best player Hogwarts has ever had,"

"I feel better now. Not by much, but by enough,"

"Well, come with me and let me make you feel completely better, hmm?"

James smiled, following Sirius.