The Rise And Fall Of The Stag And The Doe

Make It Without You

James sat up with a huge yawn and reached over to his bedside table for his glasses. Stretching out his naked torso, he twisted around to crack his back and neck. When he finished, he yawned again and looked around the room. Until that point he'd been fine, a little annoyed that he had to wake up, but other than that, everything perfectly normal.

Except, that it wasn't.

Both Remus and Peter were sound asleep in their beds, but Sirius wasn't there…and there was nothing all right about that.

He didn't even lie to himself and try and think that he'd get used to it. His natural instinct in the morning was to check for Sirius. Sometimes Sirius would just be getting in, a sleazy grin planted on his face from the night he spent shagging some Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. He would regale James with stories of his conquests, before passing out or jumping into his Quidditch gear. But Sirius's bed had been empty for a week now, and it never ceased to pain him.

James was happy that Remus was still a student, and that Snape was forbidden from telling anyone. It was a huge weight off his shoulders and absolutely fantastic news, but it still didn't put everything back to the way it was. Nothing was the same without Sirius. It had been a week, and he still wasn't anywhere close to being okay with it. He kept forcing himself to focus on everything else, but that was nearly impossible; there wasn't a single thing in his life that wasn't connected back to his best friend. James couldn't even go to Quidditch practice without being less than a few feet away from him. It was the worst thing he had ever had to go through.

James knew that he had always had a fairly easily life. He was spoiled since birth, became best friends with Marlene and the Marauders, became popular, aced all his classes, and was Quidditch Captain. His life was extremely blessed and he was extremely lucky, but that didn't make this easier. It actually made it worse, because he couldn't enjoy a single minute of it without his best friend at his side.

It was like someone had thrown him into a ditch, with every toy imaginable and an endless supply of food. He could survive and play with all the toys, but he would never thrive, because he didn't have his best friend to share it with. Hell, they could throw them both down there without anything and they'd get on just fine, they die from starvation with laughter still fresh on their lips.

That was the thing about a real best friend, people often called anybody they spent a lot of time with their best friend, but that wasn't it. When you are inseparable from someone, when you have to tell them a joke, or a tagline from your life, that's when they're your best friend. When you know you could depend on them in any situation and trust them with every shameful piece of information on you, that's when they're your best friend. Being best friends with someone is having an unbreakable bond with that person. James often heard students around him use the term loosely and he always resented it, because they didn't use it right. James would lay down his life for Marlene, Sirius, Remus, and Peter without any hesitation. He would put their lives in front of his without any notice or warning. Because being best friends with someone is loving someone more than you love yourself.

And now, the highest person on that list was…gone.

He'd like to think that he'd done the honorable thing for Remus's sake and cut every trace of Sirius out of his life, but in doing so he cut out such an irreplaceable part of himself. Everyday for the past seven days now he just felt raw, unsettled and angry.

Eventually, James picked himself up and forced himself to take a shower, the one place where he could deal with all of this thoroughly. Taking off his boxers and glasses, he placed a silencing charm on the door, and did what he had done every day before this. James coldly trudged into the shower, turned it on and began screaming. He let out everything; every ounce of daggering rage was projected at the white brick walls. He demanded to know why this had to happen, and how the hell he was supposed to get over this. And then, when his voice grew hoarse and his body grew weak, he would let the jets of scorching water wash over him as he crumbled to the floor. No one could see him, and no one would ever know, but James Potter had never looked as pathetic and alone as he did then. There were no take-backs, no second chances; this was the lonely life Sirius had trapped him into living, one Marauder down.