unspeakable | jegulus

winter is blue

chapter title: winter is blue by vashti bunyan

TW: suicidal ideation, mentions of self-harm.

If you'd like, you can add:

'Liar's Love' by Title Fight / 'Gardenhead/Leave Me Alone' by Neutral Milk Hotel / 'Farewell to All These Rotten Teeth' by Carissa's Wierd

to your queue <3

A student found the body in the dead of night, not a teacher. By the time James made it to breakfast, everyone knew that Filch was dead. Not only that he was dead, but the precise manner in which his body had been found: crushed and maimed, with the mark of the Dark Lord painted in blood on the stone beneath his corpse.

"Do you know who did it?" James welcomed the question as an excuse not to sit with Regulus and his friends. He narrowed his eyes at Peter mischievously and held a finger to his lips, shh. Peter grabbed his arm and hauled him to the Gryffindor table as if they were still the closest of friends, their estrangement forgotten. "When something happens around here, at least you're in on it. I used to be in on it, when we were properly friends. Being a death eater seems like it'd be a lot more fun than fighting them."

"Are you fighting them?" There had been no real conflict between the death eaters and the Order within the school, not since James switched sides. Before he'd been wrapped up in Regulus' web, James had actively hexed and fought any Slytherin unfortunate enough to cross his path at the slightest inkling they may have been a death eater... for Lily, who bore the brunt of the blood supremacist bile they were spewing. In their seventh year, he'd grown more cautious, and most of the conflict was reduced to cold looks or whispered hexes. That had been fighting; foolish fighting, but fighting. The implication was not lost on his old friend. Peter turned red. "It's always more fun to be on the winning side, Peter. I think that's always true. You're not as competitive as I am. Does it bother you that you're losing?"

"It bothers me more that we aren't doing a goddamn thing. What have we accomplished? Starting a stupid bloody duelling club. It's boring, without you. Nothing has been the same since you left."

"I'm right here, aren't I?"

"Right here." Peter's bright eyes looked brighter than ever all of a sudden. "Say, you smoke don't you? Maybe we could step out a minute and you can tell me whatever it is you're being so secretive about."

"Have you taken up smoking?" Peter shook his head, no. James grinned at him, looking for all the world like nothing had happened yesterday at all. He was going to deal with this alone. He was going to handle this himself. He'd gotten too used to relying on other people. He used to be so good at crushing everything he felt, looking perfectly fine on the outside, no matter what was burning in his chest. He could get good at it all over again. "Would you like to?"

Outside in the snow, they wandered side by side through the courtyard and settled under a tree. It was the type of winter day that was so dry and cold all the snow that got kicked up when the wind blew felt like needles of sand cutting into your cheeks. James lit himself a cigarette. Peter didn't reach for it so he kept it to himself, quite happily.

"So, you know who did it?" Peter was watching him rapturously, the way he always watched James when he had him alone. Once, Peter had been the closest friend he had, when they were too little to know what either of them would grow into. Did Peter ever miss that? Was that the meaning behind these long looks, and the hungry attention he always paid him when it was just the two of them all over again? Peter sat on the snowy, cold bench beside him. James smiled at the snow and buried his feet in it, digging the tip of his shoe into the ice. "Unless you can't tell me."