The Rise And Fall Of The Stag And The Doe

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When he was a boy, he cried often. James would try to fight it or hide it, but even from a young age he was sensitive and felt things far deeper than someone his age should have. His father tried not to coddle him. He did things purposefully to teach his son lessons, and instill a strong moral cord in his son. But he had to work hard to do so because James was naturally defiant. Every time something wouldn't work out the way he thought it should he'd throw a tantrum and become inconsolable. Mr. Potter would send him to his room to calm down, and sometime later Mrs. Potter would come up with some tea to talk to him. She would still be stern with him about controlling himself and learning to adapt to situations in a mature manner, but she would never be cruel or mean. Both of his parents always went out of their way to ensure that he knew that everything they did for him was out of love.

When a person would look at Sirius and James they often thought they were very different, but that wasn't true at all. They grew up differently, had different families and were supposed to go down two completely different paths, but they didn't. They both were so erratic and at times so passionate, that they let it over take them and consume them entirely. The similarity was in their nature and that was what bonded them and made them brothers.

In a cemetery, about a half hour from the Potter mansion, the two stood, shoulder-to-shoulder, their chins raised in unison and their hands curled into fists. Their eyes scanned the names on the large plaque in sync as fat water droplets rolled down their faces and fell to the damp grass ground.

There were 100 names on the plaque. All lost the day of their graduation from Hogwarts. Some buried or trapped under the debris, some burned to death, some died from the blast and some...some died in the arms of their loved ones.

None of the survivors made it out uninjured, no matter their physical state they were all irrevocably damaged.

Out of the 100 names on the plaque, there were only seven that stood out to them. Hazel and grey eyes lingered on these names and ignored all of the rest.

Colton Hayes

Hope Lupin

Lyall Lupin

Esmee Cooper

Joan Cooper

Michael Cooper

Everett Cooper

Evelyn Potter

James ran a hand through his soaked hair, his lips jaw locked and his eyes hardened. It had been almost a month. The funeral had been three weeks earlier, but James couldn't do it. He couldn't go. Lily did. She set the whole thing up and made sure that it went the way her soon to be mother in-law would have wanted it. But James and Sirius didn't go.

They didn't want to grieve with the masses. It wasn't real if they did it with all of the other families. It wouldn't have sunk in.

Now it did.

Now that they finally had gone through the Mansion and gutted it out throwing away things they didn't want to keep and storing others, it was time to finally say goodbye.

They shifted, and moved to the place where their mother was buried, with their father. And silently, they cried.

If it were up to either of them, they would have never come. They would have let the rage that had been building inside of them grow until they became bitter and twisted, but Lily forced them both to push through. Sirius tried to fight her, but she didn't listen. Because as someone who had lost their own mother, Lily knew that holding it in and never expressing grief doesn't make it go away; it makes it fester and rot your soul.

James couldn't see through his glasses, there were too many splashes of rain on them and they were rendered completely useless, but James couldn't tell. His lack of vision didn't even faze him, because he already had seen what he had to see. The fact that he was now an orphan had long been demonstrated. Standing there now did absolutely nothing. His parents were long gone, and standing in a field of stone with his best friend did nothing to erase or fix that. The longer he stood there, the arches of his feet began to ache, but still he didn't move.