The Hogwarts Games: In Ruins

Chapter 19: James

I felt overwhelmed. There were so many familiar faces, but I didn't know which to go to. Mum beckoned me to her.

"Mum, I-" Words failed me.

But she seemed to understand. She nodded slowly and solemnly, "I know, dear."

I ran into her open arms, wishing I had done it more in my life.

"I don't know how to say goodbye," I murmured into her shoulder.

"Don't. This isn't goodbye," she insisted firmly, "Merely a good luck."

"The chances are slim, you know that," I told her, "It's okay, I can handle the truth."

She cried and held me like she would never let me go. "Take care of yourself. I love you."

"I love you too."

It seemed like too much and she left, heading towards Albus who was currently speaking with Uncle Ron.

"She really does care for you, you know," Aunt Hermione said quietly, "She rarely cries."

"I know."

"Never forget that. Try to survive, please. You Potters have an annoying characteristic to put others before yourself," she gave a watery chuckle as if it were some kind of inside joke.

"I will," I responded.

"You must forgive me, James, but I don't really believe you."

"Any other words of wisdom from the all-mighty Hermione Weasley?" I attempted at a joke.

"Yes. Stay safe," and she left.

Ron smiled after her. "I've never been the best with words," he looked at me, "But I think I can just sum it up to one sentence. You've always been like a son to me. I know that you sometimes feel as if you're not much."

I opened my mouth to retort but he cut me off, "Don't bother. I know, James. But always remember that you are so loved."

I wrapped my arms around him and he whispered, "And honestly, I loved the pranks."

I laughed for real, "You always managed to make me laugh, Uncle Ron."

He smiled, pat me on the head, and left.

Dad had come over. We momentarily just stared at each other, not sure what to say.

"I'm proud of you," he finally said.

"What for?" I asked, puzzled.

"For being there for your brother and sister. For being there for me," he answered.

"Dad, you love me, right?"

He looked startled, "Of course."

"Then, in the arena, if I don't manage to get one, send me a flask," I said.

"What for?" His eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Oh, you know," I tried to sound casual, to not give away anything. "A flask has many uses. Like water, potions, other things..." My voice trailed off and I mentally scolded myself, Real smooth, James, he'll figure out what you're up to any minute n-

"Okay," he replied.

"Do you have any last words of encouragement?"

His one was serious, "I thought your mother already told you. This isn't the last time."

"It's possible," I pointed out.

"Even though it's not, I'll still tell you. I love you as nothing will ever change that."

I emptied my face of any signs of guilt. If he knew what I was planning...

"That's deep, Dad. I didn't know you could be that sentimental. I love you too. I'll make you proud," I insisted firmly.

He looked me right in the eye, his emerald eyes bright, "James Sirius Potter, never doubt yourself. I was proud of you from the minute you were born. And I still am."

"Are you done?" A someone else cut in.

He nodded and walked off.

This goodbye would be especially hard. We had never dwelled on the great possibility that I could end up in the Games. We shared laughs together, pulled pranks together, gotten detention together (even if they were separate because no teacher was dumb enough to put us in one room alone together).

He stood there, hands in his pockets, and grinned at me with his same old mischievous smile as if everything was right in the world.

"Hey, cousin," Fred said, "I'll miss you. I'll be pulling a few extra pranks for you while you're away." He made it sound like I was simply going on vacation. "Then again, I'd do that anyway."

I had resisted the tears for so long. But out of all people to cry in front of, it just had to be Fred.

I turned around so he couldn't see my face and the tears silently flowing on them. But he must've known because he put a reassuring hand on my shoulder and murmured gently, "It's okay, James. It's okay to cry. I'm here for you."

I whirled back around and buried my face into his shoulder. My crying still made no sound, but my shoulders trembled.

"I'm sorry," I cried, "I shouldn't be-"

"Don't apologize. You're still the bravest person I know. Even the strongest people cry," he reassured. "What are you bringing into the arena?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

I pulled myself together, "Just my watch."

"It seems like you're going to go soon," he nodded his head towards the doors, where Bellatrix stood.

"Yeah. Prank a few Death Eaters for me," I said, trying to lighten the mood.

He pretended to salute me, "I shall, sir Prongs."

I laughed, which was quite rare these days, "And get into some trouble."

"I'll make sure to earn detention as well," Fred was bursting with laughter. For a second, it was like we weren't saying goodbye. It was like when we were younger, happier, just admiring our brilliant ideas.

And then realization came crashing down. But I didn't tell him. I managed a smile.

And together, for maybe the last time, we said together, "Mischief managed."