MINOR EDITS IN PROGRESS - The Forgotten Heir | Sirius Black (Marauders Era)

Chapter 16: A White Christmas

James Potter stood outside his family's cozy cottage, the soft snow crunching beneath his shoes as he took in the serene beauty of the winter landscape. The world around him was a pristine white, the snowflakes gently falling onto his messy, wind-tousled hair and settling on his scarf. The cold air nipped at his nose, turning it a bright red, but the sharpness of it was invigorating, a reminder of how alive he felt, how deeply he appreciated moments like this.

He had been home for the holidays for a few days now, and every moment felt like a treasure. His parents had met him at King's Cross with the same warmth and love they always showed, their faces lighting up the moment they saw him. They had wrapped him in tight embraces, his mother kissing his cheek and his father clapping him on the back with pride. It was a scene that repeated itself every Christmas, and yet it never lost its magic. James knew how lucky he was, how different his life was compared to that of his closest friends.

His cottage home was tucked away in a quiet village, far from the chaos of the world beyond. It was the sort of place one might see on a Christmas card, with its thatched roof, ivy-covered walls, and smoke curling up from the chimney. Inside, the warmth of the fire filled the air with the scent of burning wood, mingling with the smell of spices from his mother's baking. The house was small but filled with love, and the holidays were always a special time for the Potters.

Christmas Day was a big event for them. His parents had gone all out, as they did every year—decorating the tree with ornaments they had collected over the years, placing stockings by the fireplace, and setting the table with their best china. It was just the three of them, but that was all James ever needed. The simplicity of it, the closeness, made it perfect.

Now, standing outside, James let his thoughts drift. He wondered how his friends were doing, especially those who didn't have the same kind of home to return to. Sirius, Remus, Peter—each of them had their own struggles, their own burdens to carry, and James often found himself wishing he could do more for them.

As he stared out at the white forest in front of him, the trees dusted with snow, he couldn't help but think of Lily Evans. She was never far from his thoughts, and today was no exception. He wondered how she was spending Christmas—whether there were any special Muggle traditions that she and her family observed. He imagined her sitting by a Christmas tree, her green eyes sparkling with joy as she exchanged gifts with her parents and sister.

The thought of Lily brought a smile to his face, and he let his imagination wander. What would Christmas be like if she ever accepted his advances? He pictured the two of them, together, living a life filled with love and happiness. They would visit his parents' cottage for Christmas dinner, their two sons in tow, their laughter filling the house. Christmas morning would be spent in their pajamas, unwrapping presents beneath a brightly lit tree, before heading off to spend lunch with Lily's family. The day would end with a dinner shared with their closest friends—Sirius, Remus, Peter, and their significant others, all gathered around a table, the warmth of friendship and family enveloping them.

The vision of that future was so vivid, so real, that James felt a pang of longing. He wanted it more than anything—the love, the family, the simple, joyful life that he knew could be his if only Lily would give him a chance.

His reverie was interrupted by the sound of his mother calling him from the house. "James! Dinner's ready!"

He turned and saw her standing at the door, a warm smile on her face, her apron dusted with flour. The sight of her filled him with a sense of peace and contentment. This was home, and there was nowhere else in the world he would rather be.

"Coming, Mum!" James called back, brushing the snow from his hair as he made his way inside.

The dining room was filled with the rich aroma of roasted turkey, potatoes, and all the trimmings. The table was set for three, with candles flickering softly, casting a warm glow over the room. James took his seat between his parents, and they began their meal, the conversation light and filled with laughter.

As they finished their dinner and moved on to dessert—his mother's homemade cookies and a glass of milk—James couldn't shake the feeling of gratitude that filled his heart. He was lucky, so incredibly lucky, to have this life, these parents who loved him unconditionally. The world outside might be filled with uncertainty and danger, but here, in this cottage, everything was right.

But just as he was about to take another bite of his cookie, there was a sudden, frantic knock on the front door. The sound was so unexpected, so urgent, that it startled all three of them.

His father, always calm and composed, rose from his chair to answer the door, but James followed close behind, his instincts telling him that something was wrong.

When they opened the door, the sight that greeted them sent a shock of fear and concern through James's heart. There, standing on the doorstep, was Sirius Black—his best friend, his brother in all but blood. But Sirius was hardly recognizable. His face was bruised and bloodied, his clothes torn and dirty, and in his hand, he clutched a small suitcase.

"James," Sirius rasped, his voice hoarse and trembling. "Can I... Can I stay here?"

James's heart clenched at the sight of his friend, the pain and desperation in Sirius's eyes cutting through him like a knife. Without a second thought, he stepped forward and pulled Sirius into a tight embrace, careful not to hurt him further.

"Of course, Sirius," James said, his voice firm but gentle. "You're always welcome here. Come inside, you're safe now."

His father, understanding the gravity of the situation, stepped aside, allowing Sirius to enter the warmth of the cottage. James kept a protective arm around his friend's shoulders as they led him to the living room, where the fire crackled in the hearth.

"Thank you," Sirius whispered, his voice thick with emotion. He looked around the room, his eyes filled with a mix of relief and exhaustion. "I didn't know where else to go..."

"You don't need to thank us," James's mother said softly, her eyes filled with compassion as she approached. "You're part of this family, Sirius. We'll take care of you."

She exchanged a glance with James's father, who nodded in agreement. There was no need for explanations, no need for questions. They knew enough about Sirius's life to understand what had driven him to their doorstep on Christmas night.

As they settled Sirius onto the sofa, James's father retrieved a blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders, while his mother hurried to the kitchen to make him a cup of hot cocoa. James sat beside his friend, his heart heavy with both anger and sorrow for what Sirius had endured.

Sirius sipped the cocoa, his hands trembling slightly as he held the mug. He was silent for a long moment, his gaze fixed on the fire. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. "I left... I couldn't stay there anymore. It's over. I'm never going back."

James nodded, his jaw tight as he fought back the tears that threatened to spill. "You don't have to go back. You're safe here, Sirius. You're home."

Sirius looked at him then, his eyes filled with gratitude and something else—something that spoke of years of pain and loneliness.