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Chapter Text

Saturday 5th August 1978 

The first time James slept at Alphard's house, he got up early and went down to the kitchen, careful not to make a noise, ready to prepare breakfast. A sweet smell came from the pots and pans, not nearly as delightfully warm and nostalgic as when Mrs Potter cooked breakfast in the mornings, but good enough to get Remus to wake up to the pleasant scent. 

Lupin went down first, then Peter and Sirius, who were much heavier sleepers. Sirius slumped onto the counter, letting his unruly morning locks spill over onto the marble, as he watched James move the spatulas and spoons a lá Muggle like it was the most interesting thing he’s seen all week.

It wasn't the first time James had been to Alphard Black's house, but it was the first time he'd slept there since Sirius and Remus had finished clearing out the rooms and putting away the collections and junk. It was comfortably bright, with windows in the most unlikely places, and had an unchanging smell of garden and nature. 

"Pete," he called out. He was looking at the short, stocky boy next to him, who was wearing an apron and clumsily cutting mushrooms. "Put that on the pan, then help me with this."

Peter had made up his mind to help, even though the culinary arts were clearly not his strong suit. Before going over to James to help him hold a bowl in which he poured a bittersweet-smelling mixture, he tossed a handful of mushrooms into the pan and jumped back as oil sprayed around the stove, drawing Sirius into a laugh.

With all that growing up and becoming an adult thing, everyone was starting to feel that pressure to become a little more independent. At the moment, James was the only one who wasn't looking for a flat in the city or a cottage in the countryside, but he supposed he'd have to get down to it soon. He was already –almost– in university, he couldn't live with his parents forever!

Immersed in the delicious smell of food and the subtle, empty morning small talk –which James mostly ignored to avoid distracting himself from his cooking– they nearly jumped when they heard the front doorbell ring.

James straightened, looking out the window that overlooked the back garden, as if by leaning far enough he could see who was in front of the house—evidently to no avail.

"Are you expecting someone?" Sirius asked. They all shook their heads. "Weird."

The tension of the newcomer's unknown identity dissipated as soon as they heard a scream coming from the porch: 

“Open up lads! We’re roasting out here!" exclaimed the voice of Frank Longbottom, followed by the shameless giggle of Alice Fortescue.

"This house’s massive," Frank commented once Remus showed them the way to the kitchen. "How do you even find your own bedroom?"

James kept moving the pans back and forth in the least orderly way conceivable. He raised his head for just a second to anticipate Sirius and Remus' response:

"Oh, I don't think they leave the bed much." 

Peter gasped, then giggled mischievously. Sirius and Remus told James to fuck off as Alice let out a light-hearted laugh. Frank rolled his eyes, too busy lifting a heavy basket and putting it on the table. “Watch out when you open this,” he told them, “Alice's dad sends you ice cream. There's a freezing spell in there. Leave it loose and your kitchen’s gonna look like Hogwarts in late December."

James put the basket away in a cupboard and Peter began to help plate up the breakfast. Alice and Frank took seats next to Sirius as Remus got up to offer them tea. Sirius pushed aside the Daily Prophet and the bunch of magazines he had on the table and faced Alice and Frank:

"So, how's the wedding going?"

Alice put a hand to her forehead. James noticed that her hair had grown noticeably. It looked like she’d used a hair-growing potion, probably preparing for the wedding. She showed a tired expression to the boys and sighed. 

"Exhausting," she replied, "Do you have any idea how much planning is there to do for a wedding? And with such short notice! It was a miracle we managed to book the venue! We’ve received so many Howlers saying how we’ll be interrupting everyone’s vacation…”

Alice went on ranting about how much trouble her relatives were giving her regarding the date, venue, dress code, and menu. When Frank went to the bathroom, she also took the opportunity to mention how ridiculously expensive wedding dresses were and how picky Frank's mother was regarding hers.

“I wanted a Muggle dress, I had Lily show me shops around Muggle London and everything! But Frank's mother is determined that we do it the traditional way, with tunics and wand threads and all that stuff… Do you know how expensive it is to make a tunic using hornbeam threads at this point? I'm getting married in a month!" She shook her head, a little shaken by the turn of the conversation. “And if that isn’t enough, my dad’s trying to persuade us to leave him in charge of the desserts… Look, I like Muggle ice cream as much as the next person, but Frank's family is… Very traditional. They don't want any extravaganzas. No Muggle music or fruit desserts or low-cut dresses. Meanwhile, my parents are all for cultural integration."

She picked up the iced tea Remus set in front of her and took a sip as her eyes closed wearily. Sirius patted her back a couple of times and gave her a pitiful smile before asking: "How about you stop listening to the parents and do whatever you want to do?"

" Me? " Alice echoed, “I just want to get married! I don't care if it's in a turtleneck or wrapped in gift paper. Say my vows, kiss Frank and start our life together!" She set down the teacup harshly. "I'm fed up with organizational details, talking about tableware designs and colours for napkins... Ah , but I'm not here to bore you with details, Frank and I are stressed enough ourselves." As she took another sip from her cup of tea, Frank's footsteps were heard down the hall. Alice smiled as he retook a seat next to her. "We just came to bring some good news, yeah? You'll be happy to know that we finally have a date.” She reached into her bag and pulled out four white envelopes. "I know it's short notice, but hey, the whole thing’s short notice."

A general congratulatory murmur spread through the kitchen. When James received Alice's outstretched hand with an envelope with his name on it, he noticed the sparkling engagement ring on her finger. Then, he opened the envelope and took out a small card from inside:

‘Together with their families Frank and Alice invited you to celebrate their love & union.

Saturday, September 2nd, 1978, at four o'clock in the afternoon.

Crowley Abbey.’

"It's a new moon that night," Frank pointed out. "We wanted to make sure the lunar cycle wasn't an issue." Remus flashed them a grateful smile. "You can bring guests, but we'd prefer it if you didn't. Still, I'm assuming Sirius and Remus aren't bringing anyone. James? Peter?"

Sirius tried to question Peter about that girl he had a date with on Valentine's Day, Ava Green, but he flatly denied the possibility of asking her out: "We exchanged letters and stuff, but... No, inviting her to a wedding would be weird." He scratched the back of his neck, then looked at James for reassurance. "It’d be weird, wouldn't it?"

James shrugged his shoulders. "Just do whatever makes you feel more comfortable, Wormie,” he told him simply. He was examining the fine decoration of the invitations –probably Mrs Longbottom’s doing– when he noticed that the room had fallen silent. He raised his head and discovered Sirius watching him attentively. "What?"

“Aren’t you inviting anyone?" He asked, making James roll his eyes. "A certain red hair, perhaps?"

"Are you, by any chance, suggesting that I invite Evans?"

Sirius grimaced. “She’s way out of your league.” James rolled his eyes. “Unlike a certain future Auror, who’s just your perfect match. So, Alice, be a dear and book James a date too, yeah?”

Jame shook his head. "Alice, don't listen to his bollocks."

" Do listen, Alice; James’ got a friend who would love to come to your wedding–"

"Alice, he's just talking crap."

"Trust me, Alice, he— "

Despite Alice maintaining her composure with a tiny smile, when she finally snapped “ Enough !” they both instantly shut up. The firm tone in her voice sounded strange. Miss soon-to-be Longbottom was capable of anger? Who'd say! “I don't have the energy to put up with non-sense, I'm warning you. Decide now . In case you haven't noticed, I'm getting married in a month and I need to have the tables arranged in two weeks.”

Strangely, she kept smiling. James suspected that she had such an amount of stress on her that she was pretty much a walking time bomb waiting to explode. He gave Sirius a dirty look for nagging her and added, cavalierly: “Don't worry, he's just talking crap. I won’t be taking anyone with me."

She gave a sharp sigh and widened her grin. " Brilliant . If you change your mind, try to do it within two weeks. Ideally, though, try not to change your mind.”

"I won't." Sirius snorted irritably next to him. James nudged him. He gave him a look like a mother would give a misbehaving child. “Thanks for the ice cream, and the invitations. And I hope your parents give you a break.”

Alice seemed to relax the slightest bit, but you didn't need to have Sirius' canine sixth sense –yes, that was a thing– to realise she was more stressed than anyone should be before their wedding. 

With the excuse of delivering more invitations, they said goodbye rather soon, Alice firmly grabbing her bag and standing up, leaving the kitchen hand in hand with her soon-to-be husband, with Remus showing them the way to the exit.

“Oh shit, I almost forgot!” Alice exclaimed as they were stepping foot into the hallway. James decided to pretend that hearing her curse hadn't surprised him. "There you go, James." She reached into her bag and pulled out two more envelopes. "For your parents."

James grinned even wider as he grabbed the invitations with his parents' names eagerly. "Mum nearly started cheering when I told her you two were engaged."

Alice smiled fondly, but she didn't stay long to make small talk. As the couple walked out the front door, Sirius made an attempt to nag James on the subject of Gideon, but he turned a deaf ear.

Sirius had become a much more insistent matchmaker given recent events. He was convinced that a certain redhead was the key to making James forget about all his problems — plus he was a direct connection to the Order and Moody that they couldn't waste.

The official consequences for sneaking into the spy operation had been a bit more severe for Gideon than for James. He’d received a good load of admonishments and had to make many apologies, while James had been treated as little more than an immature teenager.

On the subject of new Voldemort’s recruits, the Order was keeping a close eye on them. Unofficially, of course. Sirius had tried to go watch Grimmauld Place himself and help the Aurors by keeping an eye on his brother, but he hadn't managed to catch even a glimpse of Regulus when he wandered around the house disguised as a stray dog.

James had to admit that if he had been the one to have joined the Death Eaters, he wouldn't want to leave the house either.

For the first time, Sirius and James weren't pestering each other to uncork their emotions—no, each was coping in their own way, and in both cases, that way included not talking about it.

There wasn't much to talk about, really. What could they say that they didn't already know? That they were hurt? That they felt betrayed? Disappointed? That they drowned in regrets and at the same time couldn't help being deeply resentful? They already knew all that without having to say it out loud.

He didn't know how Sirius was handling it on a personal level – he’d always been much better at hiding his emotions than James– or if he confided anything to Remus in private, but he supposed he was just as screwed up as he was.

As much as he hated to admit it, and even though he wasn't being as direct as Sirius would’ve preferred, he was somehow drowning his sorrow in Gideon. 

He was so comfortably opposite to Regulus that it seemed like a joke that James was ever able to find appeal in both of them. Not just physically, where Gideon's bright blue eyes and strikingly ginger hair made Regulus appear drawn in black and white, but also emotionally. Gideon was warm and electric and his strong personality glowed with determination and clear ideas, while Regulus was cold and soft and painfully weak-willed. As different as night and day. Fortunately, he was at a point in his life where he appreciated warmth much more than sharp coolness.

Since the day of the recruitment, they hadn't heard from Voldemort or the Death Eaters, let alone Regulus Black. And certainly, James couldn't say that he had any complaints. He didn't need to know more about his situation, other than that at that moment he had a mark on his arm and was probably conspiring to kill all his friends.

Fuck him , he repeated to himself.

Remus and Peter pretended not to know anything about the whole issue, Sirius kept quiet every time an article came out about the overwhelming number of radical wizards –a shitty name the press had for euphemizing fucking Death Eaters– who were now joining the ranks of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and the three of them nodded silently every time James jumped into a rant about filthy Death Eaters and how badly he wanted to make them all pay.

Besides that, the summer continued without news, if perhaps the most exciting event in sight being the highly anticipated wedding of Alice and Frank. Which, James, as hard as that was to admit, wasn't too excited for. After the recent events, the thought of enjoying the endless love of another couple and watching them swear to live their lives together was not a pleasant prospect.

They ate breakfast and trained and did things within their comfortable routine that kept them distracted from the whole situation they were experiencing. When he got back to his house, almost at nightfall, he cursed accepting Sirius’ offer to walk him back when he saw a car parked in his front yard.

The predatory smile Sirius gave him pulled a glare out of him as he approached the blue Ford Anglia and tapped twice on the window for the driver to roll it down. His blue eyes smiled at him.

"Is there a problem, officer?"

James intended to ask if he’d been waiting long, but Gideon's innocent look and silly joke got him laughing before he could say anything. He checked his watch and told him to wait as he said goodbye to Sirius.

Sirius's wolfish grin only widened.

"You didn't tell me you were meeting him," he crooned in a whisper. "Or has he come unannounced? That's even more romantic–"

This time James delivered a proper punch to his shoulder. "Idiot, shut up," he mumbled. "He’s teaching me how to drive." Sirius's eyes widened even more, grinning like an idiot. "What? You got your motorcycle license by reading a fucking book. Everyone’s got their methods."

"He’s teaching you to drive? Like boyfriends do with— "

"Naff off Padfoot."

Sirius grabbed James's arm before he stepped away to remind him what a good couple they’d make, and James shoved him onto the garden grass with a laugh. He jumped up –his physical form had improved admirably since James had trained him for the Auror academy– and only managed to wave before James got into the car.

Before the vehicle started, he heard a crack , and when he checked in the rearview mirror, he found that Sirius had disappeared.

"Trouble in paradise?" Gideon asked.

"I'd hardly call this a paradise," James muttered, adjusting his seatbelt. "Sorry I'm late, I lost track of time.”

"It's alright. I've been here for, like, five minutes." He turned the key and the car sped away, making that rusty sound that James always found particularly unpleasant. "How's their new house going?"

James nodded, hinting that it was fine. They lost a couple of minutes with some small talk. Gideon lit a fag, offered it to James, and chuckled when he turned it down like he always did.

It was Saturday and the traffic was a bit heavier, so Gideon drove all the way to the clearing by the side of the road. He was surprised to find another car, but they didn't let that bother them. Things changed when they began to make small sharp noises from inside the reddish vehicle parked several feet from them. When James felt the car lurch vaguely from side to side, he raised his hands to his eyes and shared a startled look with Gideon. 

“Hope they’re using protection,” the oldest said calmly. “Having a baby in this economy? Go figure. D’you know what inflation is? Muggles go crazy with that stuff."

"I'm afraid I'm not as up to date with the modern economy as I'd like."

"Of course not, you're rich, fucking prick.”

James gave him a little nudge, laughingly. He was about to comment that his father did keep up with financial matters, but was interrupted by a particularly loud growl coming from inside the car next to them. "My goodness, are they shagging or having the bloody child already?"

Gideon shrugged, taking another sidelong glance at the car. "You wanna leave?"

"Us? We're not the ones disrupting public order!"

"Fine, wanna disrupt public order too?”

James tightened his hands around the neck of his beer bottle. He laughed as Gideon shared a couple of giggles too, ignoring the knot in his stomach that was sliding down.

He wasn't getting aroused, was he?

It’d be pretty fucking hypocritical of him, getting hard after all the times he'd told Sirius that there was nothing between him and Gideon.

He pretended to stare at nothing as he glanced sideways at Gideon, who was leaning back, looking up at the stars as if he didn't have a care in the world— and to be honest, sometimes it really seemed like he didn't.

Partly, that was what drew James to him in the first place.

They met on the Quidditch team, when James was admitted in his third year and Gideon was in his fifth. Being two troublemakers with a penchant for Quidditch, it wasn't surprising that they clicked from the start, but they didn't become close until photos of Sirius and Remus graced every cover of the Wizarding tabloids in England. 

Gideon had just finished his first year at the Auror Academy, and James was about to start his last year at Hogwarts. They reconnected when a letter arrived at the home of the Potter family –and at the time, Sirius’ as well– telling them that everything that was happening in the press was pathetic. After that, it didn't take long for him to confess that he was into blokes, too, and it was when James began to feel attracted to another guy with the same tastes and hobbies and an admirable determination that he realised that maybe he wasn't just into girls.

He thought about having his revenge against Sirius and Remus by keeping their relationship a secret, but after the first time he kissed Gideon, it didn't take him two seconds to run to Sirius's room and tell him every little detail, seized with his own excitement. It was never official, just sex and fun. Just when it looked like they might get something formalised, the new term came, and James didn't see Gideon again until May, when the only thing on his mind was Regulus.

At some point, he’d stopped sneaking glances at Gideon, and now he was simply staring shamelessly at him. When Gideon gazed back at him, his blue eyes, made brighter by the whitish moonlight, took him by surprise, causing him to look away least sneakily and pathetically possible, taking a sip of the bottle in embarrassment. 

If Gideon was still looking at him, James didn't know, because now he was staring intently at the ground with his cheeks turned red.

"Just so you know," Gideon began, "Next week there's a… Something at the Ministry. Some kind of Aurors meeting before the bigwigs go on vacation." James had the feeling that Gideon held himself back from going on a ranting about how outrageous he found that. "I was wondering if you might wanna come with me. I'm already hardly invited, so why not both of us? I'll sneak ya in, and have a laugh in Crouch's face if we get caught. It’ll be fun. Also, you'll get to see Moody in a suit shaking hands with people— Formality’s not his forte. He’s more of a jumping-to-action kinda lad. And there’ll be food and–"

"You already convinced me when you asked if I wanted to go with you."

That caught Gideon by surprise. He smiled, not knowing how to react. James looked away, embarrassed by Gideon's embarrassment (if that was possible). The tension of the moment, however, was broken by another moan coming out of the car. "Oh, bloody hell," he mumbled, glaring at the car before jumping off the hood of the blue Ford. “C’mon, these fuckers are too annoying.”

Before James had time to ask, Gideon urged him to follow him toward the shoreline, jumping over the varnished fence.

As they slid onto the beach, James kicked his shoes onto the sand and plunged his feet into the water, which was cold enough to turn his skin red. Gideon followed close behind. He took off his sweatshirt and left it on a group of rocks, walking towards the sea with his full torso exposed.

He didn't look like the boys at Hogwarts, more like the dudes in the sports magazines. The baggy clothes he used to wear hid the width of his arms, not to mention the toning of his stomach. He felt equal envy and arousal.

"Stop showing off," James told him, grinning widely. He splashed a few drops of seawater on him, which made Gideon squirm in a most undignified way.

"Enjoying the view?"

James bit his tongue, snapping at him again. This time, a seaweed went with the water, leaping up into Gideon's face. He scrupulously pushed the plant away, tossing it at James again. They began a back and forth, lassoing all the seaweed they found in their path, clumsily chasing each other through the water. James' clothing ended up soaking wet, the light-coloured shirt becoming see-through, leaving little to the imagination.

When Gideon managed to catch James in their little tag match, they were wrestling with each other between guffaws when a wave knocked them both off balance. Gideon grabbed onto James's arm, and James fell helplessly with him. They were close enough to shore that Gideon was only vaguely submerged, still with his face exposed. James dropped his arms against the sand ground on either side of his head, steadying himself.

Gideon leaned on his elbows and rose as James crouched in front of him. His face had a slight expression of pain mixed with a permanent smile, having fallen flat against the water. James brushed his hair out of his face with his wet hand, managing to keep the strands back.

“ Ouch ,” Gideon sighed, “That—fucking hurt!”

"Y'okay mate?"

He nodded, leaning back on his two hands as his legs remained dipped in the water. His breathing was ragged, and as James looked at him, he stared up at the sky. "Oh fuck, I'm exhausted," he whispered, "I hope I never have to chase a criminal in the water because they’ll get away before a banshee can sing."

"I'll be there in case you get tired."

Gideon chuckled, looking down at James. "Don't act so full of yourself, I caught you."

James showed a smirk. "Just because I let you."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, is that so?" he asked, pushing himself up with his hands to sit up. James stepped back. His glasses were splattered, and seeing Gideon in a mosaic only made him laugh more. "See if you can get away now!"

Gideon lunged at him, and James bucked against the seawater as he screamed and roared, nearly gasping for air. Crawling across the wet sand of the sea floor, there was a point where his chin brushed the surface of the water. Alerted that his glasses might be damaged, he jumped, which Gideon took advantage of to grab him and pin his hands to the ground, holding him under him.

"Who let who catch who, you said?"

James's chest rose and fell with excitement as Gideon blocked his view of the starry sky.

A lot of images began to flash through his head. He’d be lying if he said that Regulus didn't appear in any of them, but he’d also be lying if he told himself that every time he thought of Regulus, he didn’t only feel like getting even closer to Gideon.

 Sirius's words bounced off his ears again, every hint and every knowing smirk.

Gideon's hands on his as he drove. The taste of beer that lingered on his tongue when Gideon left. The smell of his car. The colour of his eyes.

If James stared into those blue irises, most of his problems seemed to vanish.

Why was he resisting so hard?

Gideon was stunned for a moment, as was he. James swallowed, feeling even more encouraged.

Their first kiss had been something like that. James got caught by surprise when Gideon’s hand travelled to his cheeks when they were fighting over the Quaffle, kissing him on the ground of the Quidditch pitch in his backyard.

Maybe it was James’ turn now. Perhaps Gideon was also waiting for him to make the first move.

Well, so be it.

“Should we go back for another–?"

James will never know what Gideon wanted to go back for, because before he finished the sentence, taking firm grip on his shoulders and placing his lips on Gideon’s. 

His mouth tasted like beer— the Muggle kind. He pressed closer to him with a slight jump, causing Gideon to lean back and James to be submerged as well from the hips down. 

The world didn’t stop around him, the butterflies in his stomach didn’t furiously flutter. It wasn't like their first kiss, and nothing close to Regulus's kisses. But still, it was the best he’d felt in weeks.

The kiss deepened as James's hand gripped the back of Gideon's neck, and Gideon's hands travelled to the small of his back hesitantly. The sound of their lips colliding was drowned out by the ocean currents and the offshore wind. Several seconds passed before Gideon placed a hand on James's chest to push him back.

James backed away slowly, keeping his feet firmly on the ground so the currents wouldn't knock him off his feet. His eyes were closed, and for a second he didn't dare open them.

The warmth under his fingertips was a reminder of who he was kissing—and especially, who he wasn't. The texture of Gideon's short hair, the broadness of his back, and the steadiness of his hands. It was all a nice reminder that he was kissing someone other than Regulus Black.

Finally.

Not just the tickling of his lips. Everything about it felt right. Finally.

I’m over you, you fucking knobhead.

He heard a sigh escape the other’s lips, and James leaned in for a second round, surprised to find himself held still by Gideon's hands on his chest.

His eyes were closed and his lips parted, and James watched his short strands flow in the seawater while the white light of the moon illuminated his traits. He leaned back instinctively, but Gideon was back up before he could, bringing him to his knees on the sand.

James didn't dare say a word, holding his breath as Gideon lifted his hands from the water and brought them to his forehead. His chest seemed static too, like he didn't want to breathe.

Without either of them saying anything, the waves crashing against the shore sounded louder than ever. The tension broke with a small hum, which escaped Gideon's lips as he looked away.

“Bloody hell.”

James swallowed when he saw that Gideon was avoiding his gaze.

“Sorry if I made you…” he stammered but was interrupted by Gideon holding up a hand.

"You already did it," he told him, "So that's that."

"I–" James backed away, flushed with embarrassment. “I thought that–”

" I thought you were hooked on that boy." James's eyes widened in surprise. Gideon finally deigned to stare back at him. "Y'know, Black."

James's head began to jerk from side to side almost instantly. "No," he replied flatly. Gideon raised an eyebrow. "I meant what I said. I promise. I'm not going to let him continue... Having power over me. It's over. I–I'm over."

"It didn't seem over when you saw him at Little Haggleton." James's lips trembled. Suddenly, the seawater felt cold on his skin. Gideon felt bad about what he’d just said almost instantly. "No, Merlin, I… I don't wanna be a git over this, yeah? But..." 

" I –I'm sorry if I mis – Did I misinterpret? I thought…"

"Yeah. I mean, no. I mean–" He sighed. "I... I liked it, alright?” That didn't help ease the tension in James's shoulders. "But I… James, I just– I don't wanna be your rebound."

James blinked a few times, stunned. " Re– ?"

"You know what I mean," Gideon went on, licking his lips as he still didn't seem to know where to fix his eyes. "You broke up with that bloke less than a month ago."

"But that– That doesn't mean anything!" he exclaimed. "I... I hate him. God, how could I not? He has–"

"Yeah, I get it, you hate him because you have to."

"I do not –"

"Because life's a bitch and that's the way it is. And honestly, I feel terrible for you. But I don't want to be the one you use to get over that tosser."

"But I wasn't–!"

"James," Gideon interrupted once more, "I get it, I really do. But no... No. Nothing's going to happen here." He pointed to the space that separated them. "I'm certainly not a fan of being used. And I really think you should work things out with yourself before you jump on someone. You know, the right way."

"I'm honestly really fucking tired of doing things the right way." James snapped. His eyebrows turned down as he sat up as well. "Why do I have to let him decide what I do and with whom? I'm fucking tired. I don't love him, not anymore. All my relationships from now on are beyond him. He no longer takes part in my life. At–all. "

The steadiness in Gideon's gaze wavered. "You say that but–"

"Why would anything else matter other than what I said?"

Somehow, the roles had reversed, and now the one who seemed to be giving a scolding was James, whose hazel eyes appeared fiery, and Gideon cringed silently, not knowing how to refute him.

"So you're trying to tell me that suddenly kissing me has nothing to do with everything that's going on in your life? After we called it quits a year ago and you dated another guy for months in between?"

James licked his lips thoughtfully. "We didn't really call it quits... I just started Hogwarts and you started the Academy and–"

"Are we really going to do this?" Gideon cut him off. "Fine, yeah, maybe we didn't put an official end to all that friends-with-benefits thing. And? You fell for another dude in between. And you're still in love with him."

"I'm not!"

"Yes, you are!" Gideon exclaimed impatiently. "And I really fucking like you! But I won't be the one you use to get over him! I simply won't!"

The last sentence took James by surprise. Gideon also seemed to curse under his breath when he realised what he'd said. A stupid stammer left the younger's lips: "You–? You like–?"

“Of course I fucking do, dickhead.”

"I–” James babbled. “I thought we were just having fun. No strings attached, you said so last summer…”

"Yeah, that was the plan. We both went our separate ways, had our fun, no one got hurt. But it didn't fucking end there.” Gideon admitted sourly. "Then we were at the concert and I thought I was toying with you all night, but you just wanted to be with that other guy and— I don't know. I didn't think you could leave me wanting more like that. And then it's summer and you spend all that time with me and..." He ran a hand through his hair, laughing bitterly. "And of course you just wanted to forget that dude…"

James fell silent at that moment, without having the slightest idea of what to say. Gideon's cheeks had turned pink—It wasn't a usual sight, to see him flush.

"I wasn't with you just to forget about Regulus," James assured. He regretted spouting that name as soon as it left his lips. Likewise, Gideon wrinkled his nose. "We're friends. And I like you. In... In a lot of ways. If you don't want anything to happen between us, it won't, but... But don't think it's all because of him, because it really is not." Gideon's hands went back to his hair, stroking his short locks. He was looking at James out of the corner of his eye. "Does this... change anything?"

"You want it to?"

"Not really,” he admitted. "We’re friends. I want to keep doing friend stuff with you. And, you know, this . I don't want it to change. And I don't mean to guilt-trip you into anything, but for things to change between us because of something that has to do with Black would make it all a thousand times worse."

Gideon laughed, a little listlessly. "We're still mates," he stated simply.

"You sure?"

"Yes, I bloody am. Don't overdo it. You know I'm not good at sappy crap."

James laughed. This time, Gideon joined in with a bit more enthusiasm.

"Wipe that smile off," the redhead growled jokingly, making James grin even wider. In response, he slammed his palm into the sea, splashing James with salty water. "Fuck off!"

James snapped back, and Gideon covered his face with his hands as he prepared to take his revenge.

When they got back to the car they were dripping, and the tension seemed to have lifted from the air.

James didn't miss the way Gideon glanced at his lips as he sipped from a beer bottle on the way back to Godric's Hollow, but he certainly had no intention of commenting on it.

If it had to be that way, that's how it’d be.

What James was certain about was that Regulus Black wasn't going to fuck up one more relationship for him.

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Saturday 26th August 1978— Ministry’s Auror’s meeting

Wizard clothes were fucking uncomfortable.

They were long, heavy, and not even the lighter summer versions kept you from sweating after two minutes of wearing them.

James's parents were the classic type, long robes and pointy shoes, as was the case with most older people. Among younger people, there seemed to be a tendency toward Muggle garb, especially for people like James, who had a good load of Muggle-born friends. Sirius, especially, was something of an expert in Muggle clothing—basically because his parents hated it, and Sirius was an expert in everything his parents deemed unworthy. Unfortunately, though, that day James couldn't follow Sirius's fashion advice regarding garments.

"Put on a tunic, not too coloured, something that doesn't attract attention,” Gideon had said, days before the Auror department meeting he’d invited James to. “If they notice you, they could tell us off."

He was nervously changing from one tunic to another—covering his white shirt and black pants with those heavy garments he only wore at Christmas to see his relatives. Some didn’t reach his feet, others, inherited from his father, were too wide around his shoulders, and he dragged them like a veil. In general, they all weighed horrors and felt painfully stifling (even though the weather wasn't even that hot—or at all).

He wasn't the type to get nervous about his clothes. He didn't know if it was because of Gideon, because of the possibility that a plant full of Aurors might find out that he was doing something against the rules, or because he had already tested the ground enough with Moody and Kingsley after the recrutiation night. Whatever the case, nothing seemed to look right on him.

He almost jumped when a horn blared in the garden.

James peeked out the window briefly to spot Gideon's blue Ford.

Gideon honked again, the headlights coming from his car illuminating the garden, the hours of night already fallen. He sighed as he took one last quick look at the clothes on his bed and settled on the thinnest of them all (which was almost nine years old and barely hit his shins).

He ran downstairs, hearing another honk as he passed the kitchen, and waved goodbye to his parents as he hurriedly closed the door. When he stepped out into the garden, he found Gideon standing in front of the car, smoking his last cigarette for the night.

"Night," he greeted with a grin that went from ear to ear. As he pointed to the open car door, he noticed that Fabian Prewett and Hestia Jones were also in the car, smiling excitedly at him. "C'mon, get in, we don't got all night."

With all the hustle and bustle of paperwork for the Auror Academy, James pretty much knew the Ministry inside out.

He recognised many faces of grumpy employees who’d given him enough red tape, and the hallway to the Ministry function room was only a short detour from the path to the Wizengamot meeting room (where he’d had to swear allegiance to Britain and the Minister for Magic and the Wizarding World and blah blah blah). When they entered, they found themselves surrounded by the classic black tiled walls with sconces hanging from the ceiling, lit on candles whose wax did not melt.

The room was full. So much so that hardly anyone noticed them when they stepped foot into the place. There were many faces he recognised from newspapers and magazines—He even caught a glimpse of that scavenger reporter Regulus talked about like she was crap on the sole of his show: 

"Rita Skeeter," Hestia Jones mentioned when she noticed where James's gaze was straying. "Oh, she's given even Moody headaches, has no mercy. She entered the Daily Prophet as an intern about seven years ago and her career grew like wildfire. No one knows how she gets the information or from whom—The Head Aurors have kicked out enough employees accused of moles, but she keeps getting scoops.”

"She used to be under suspicion of being a Death Eater," Fabian joined in, listening to their conversation as they made their way through the guests. "She was a classmate of Bellatrix Lestrange, shared a room and everything. To survive seven years with that psychopath, you can't be sane— Soon she began to release news of the Death Eaters too; thwart plans, reveal locations of kidnapped people… Moody tolerates her because sometimes he too takes advantage of her Machiavellianness."

"If she can find out about all that, why isn’t she helping the Order?" James asked with slight indignation. "Whose side is she on?"

"Hers," Hestia replied dryly.

James kept walking, frowning, turning his head to keep an eye on Skeeter, who was hopping through the guests, carrying a camera with a blinding flash and a notepad and a quill writing by itself. There were more reporters, though neither Gideon nor his friends commented on what ruthless scavengers they were, so James supposed Regulus was right when he said Skeeter was a different breed.

Glancing around the room, he continued to recognize familiar faces. There was one that caught their attention particularly; h.e even saw Hestia hit Gideon and Fabian on their arms to get their attention.

Dumbledore wasn't the type to show up at such events, so it felt unheard of when James saw him, towering over everyone else thanks to his height, head bowed speaking to a young couple. He hadn't bothered to put on a suit or comb his hair in any particular way, and he didn't appear to be accompanied. James wasn't going to pay too much attention to his figure, but suddenly, something in the young couple he was talking to caught his eye.

"D’you have any idea if there were any... extra guests , apart from us?" James asked Gideon. He shook his head. "Then what the hell is Lily Evans doing here?"

Gideon leaned in. He didn't know who Lily Evans was, but he guessed it was the red-haired girl in the sundress holding a glass of wine. He was surprised by her stoic posture and folded arms. If he didn't know better, he'd think she was arguing with Dumbledore. "She’s your age?" he asked, vaguely remembering her from the concert. When James nodded, he couldn't help but gape. "What the fuck is a recent Hogwarts graduate doing at a ministry Auror meeting?"

James shook his head, cluelessly looking forward. Without saying anything to Gideon, he started walking towards Dumbledore and Evans. He realised as he got closer that there was another young man with them; he was fair-haired, strikingly tall, and also seemed a bit older, around twenty-five. Dumbledore appeared to be speaking particularly to him while Lily occasionally chimed in on the conversation. The first to notice Gideon and James approaching was her, who gave her companion a tug on the sleeve. He and Dumbledore looked in their direction, and while the blonde bloke remained indifferent, a smile spread across the headmaster’s face:

"Mr Potter, Mr Prewett," Dumbledore greeted, "How nice to see you. I was just pacing around, greeting acquaintances. I hope life after Hogwarts is treating you well."

Gideon and James had to exchange a couple of sentences with Dumbledore out of sheer compromise, impatiently looking at Lily and the blond bloke, who kept whispering to each other. When Dumbledore became satisfied with the small talk, he patted both boys on the back, and before walking away he turned to Lily and the boy to say:

"I'll wait for you first thing Monday morning."

Lily's eyes widened angrily. "He won't be able to–!"

"First thing Monday morning, Miss Evans."

Lily had her arms crossed, and James had only noticed that her cheeks were red and her eyebrows downturned. Could it be that she was bickering with Dumbledore? What business could Lily Evans possibly have bickering with Dumbledore ? 

He had to wait a few reasonable seconds until Dumbledore was far enough away. When he made sure they were safe, James wasted no time in grabbing Lily's arm roughly and asking her what the hell was going on. Lily still seemed tremendously irritated by her interaction with Dumbledore, and her response to James wasn’t overly pleasant:

"It’s none of your business, Potter."

James narrowed his eyes at her, like he had trouble understanding her words. "Are you aware that this is a meeting of Ministry Aurors?" She rolled her eyes. The boy, next to her, remained silent, not even bothering to look at Gideon or James. He seemed a bit of an arsehole, judging by plain looks. Lily just hummed, unbothered. "Then what the hell are you doing here!"

"The actual question is, what are you doing here?"

James huffed. "I've come with Gideon," he mumbled, pointing back, to where the latter was watching the conversation in silence. Hestia and Fabian had gotten lost in the crowd, not wanting the headmaster to see them. "Again, what the hell are you doing here?"

Lily tossed her hair back, then took a swallow from her glass and said with the utmost simplicity: "I'm part of the Order, obviously."

The sentence took several seconds to reach James' brain. He gaped groggily as he looked at Lily the way a Muggle would look at a ghost. “What do you mean you’re part of the Order ?”

Lily tilted her chin up smugly, like James was terribly slow and that annoyed her greatly.“ The Order of the Phoenix , doesn't ring a bell?"

"I know what–!" He realised that he was about to yell, and lowered his voice before drawing too much attention. "I know what the Order of the Phoenix is, what I don't know is why the fuck you’d be a part of it."

Lily rolled her eyes. She put the wine down on the tray of a passing waiter, not bothering to drink the last bit of it, like she’d grown tired of holding it. The blond boy stayed still behind her, and she leaned in to whisper something in her ear.

"This is Harry," she added, once turning her attention back to James, not even bothering to answer his question. "He’s also a member of the Order."

James barely eyed the man for a second. He was tall and broad, but his gaze seemed absent. He didn't bother to greet James, so James didn't greet him. “Why are you a member of the Order?" He kept querying. "You're not even an Auror!"

She side-eyed him angrily, like she found it really unreasonable for James to keep demanding explanations."So what? You don't consider me talented enough to be a member of the Order? Is it just nepotism and meritocracy in this realm as well? Or maybe it's because I'm a Muggle-born?” 

James' jaw dropped. "Are you really pulling the Muggle-born card right now?" He exclaimed. Evans just huffed. Getting no further response from her, his attention went to the blond, Harry. "And what about him? Is he another inexperienced teenager who somehow ended up working for Dumbledore?"

"We don't work for anyone, much less Dumbledore, is that fucking clear?" Lily snapped. Her tone turned bitter and harsh. Harry grabbed her shoulder to calm her down, and James frowned at the confidence of the gesture."This is Harry, and he’s in the Order. That’s all you need to know."

“What the fuck, Evans,” James growled irritably, trying to contain his tone of voice, which turned angrier by the minute. “Are you telling me that a teen who just got out of Hogwarts and some dude just out of nowhere belong to the Order of the Phoenix?”

She shrugged her shoulders. "Why is that so hard to believe? People sometimes just do nonsense things."

"I'm glad we both agree that this is utter nonsense!"

Lily rolled her eyes for the upteenth time. Harry, next to her, kept looking at the ground without saying anything. James couldn't do much more than demand an explanation, and before he could repeat the same question for the tenth time, Lily decided to turn away.

"We'll see you around, James."

James stared agape as she walked away from him, his jaw dangling. He was about to chase after her, but Gideon held him back, afraid he’d draw attention. James had to resign himself to sighing and holding on as Lily linked her arm through Harry's to drag him far away from them.

They continued walking through the party, luckily without running into another Hogwarts classmate unexpectedly. Gideon kept James hidden among his group of friends as he gave him a brief introduction to the guests. A woman with short grey hair walked past them, wearing a somewhat old-fashioned skirt. Even Gideon, always rebellious and with a certain enjoyment in contempt for authority, felt the need to bow his head as he saw her pass.

"That's Porpentina Scamander," he whispered in James’ ear. Potter too had bowed politely. "A legend. She's American, worked side by side with Dumbledore to imprison Grindelwald. Apparently, she was dismissed for attacking a Muggle –a No-Maj , as they're called across the pond–, and returned to the Magical Congress of the United States with Grindelwald's head, the big way. Needless to say, she was named Head Auror after that.” 

James turned to see the woman walk away. He couldn't help but gasp. He wanted to say how cool she looked but didn't want to sound childish.

It wasn't long before Gideon leaned over to James to point out another particular guest. "And that one over there, Theseus Scamander. Porpentina’s brother-in-law. He's in the books too —not only was Head of the Auror office during the revolution, but his love story was something of a key player in the war against Grindelwald." He shook his head, looking sadly at the man's back, who walked hunched, and in his wrinkles was the ghost of an ancient beauty. "His fiancée was murdered. She fell into the flames that Grindelwald conjured up with a Protego Diabolica … You'll study that in Dark Arts. That spell’s hard as fuck. She’s said to be a hero, and apparently, thanks to her death several key pieces against Grindelwald were uncovered, although her descendants aren’t exactly living up to her name— Leta Lestrange."

It took James a few seconds to process that name. " Lestrange? " he repeated. "You mean like…?"

Gideon nodded, vexed. "I wonder what that woman would do if she knew Bellatrix Lestrange bears her last name now."

James nervously loosened his tie. God, he was surrounded by fucking important people— And not just because their last name said they were important, or their money, or something like that; he was surrounded by people who had made a name for themselves through their achievements. That made him feel even more nervous.

Sometimes he felt like an idiot for turning down all those offers for the Quidditch teams. He imagined himself flying on a broomstick and throwing the Quaffle and doing one of the things he loved most in the world, and being world renowned for it, and man, it was so— ideal!

But now, he stared at Mrs Scamander's back and wondered how it’d feel to have people bow when you walk by. To be respected enough to whisper your name in admiration. That twenty years from now kids at Hogwarts will study your name and talk of you as a hero.

Hell, Kenneth Hastings was cool, but for someone to look at you the way Gideon's friends looked at the veterans had to be otherworldly.

Not all were old glories. Gideon was also pointing out some young Aurors who were accomplishing some merits; Kingsley, whose virtues in the department were only extolled by his youth, or John Dawlish, whom they ran into by chance while hanging around the corners of the party, surprising him talking with a couple of serious-looking adults and some youngsters near them.

James admired the young Auror's expression, his fascination delaying the moment of taking a look at the rest of those present. When he did, however, his stomach almost dropped. He had to grab onto Gideon's arm to keep from falling.

"Shit," he muttered. "What's Crouch doing here?"

It took James only a few seconds to recognize the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and the same with the young man who was standing next to him, arms folded, looking at everything with boredom. "Oh yes, the mini Death Eater," Gideon whispered, "Moody talked to his father. They say he turned white when he was told there were rumours his son was hanging out with the wrong people–"

" Rumours? " James repeated. "We literally saw him go into Voldemort's house!"

"Well, we can't tell something like that to a Ministry employee– Let alone Crouch! He's a rule nut! If he finds out that Dumbledore’s doing something as unorthodox as the Order... we'd all be in trouble."

James gazed at Gideon and then at Crouch and then at Gideon again without understanding. "Why does the system seem to put more trouble in taking down Voldemort than Voldemort himself?"

"Because the system sucks, James," he declared with cold crudity. "Whatever the case, it doesn't look like his son’s a Death Eater. Or at least, he doesn't have the mark," he continued, "I highly doubt he used Veritaserum– God forbid he flouted the rules in such a way. But I don't think anything in the regulation prevents a father from forcing his son to show his arm."

James wanted to smash his glass on the floor. "He's a Death Eater, I'm sure of it," he insisted. Gideon looked at him curiously. "He and Regulus...they were close— maybe still are. He wanted to join, Regulus told me. He wanted to rebel against his father—and he was in the house! I don't think Voldemort would let people just come and watch!"

"Even if that's true, there's no proof–"

"Fuck having proof! I'll prove it myself if I have to!" James tried to walk towards Crouch and his son, but Gideon put his arm in the way. His face had turned somewhat red. "He deserves it," he whispered. "They all deserve it, but he..." he swallowed, then met Gideon's eyes. "He’s hurt us all so much." 

Gideon frowned, not seeming to understand. James sighed before beginning to explain:

"He sold Padfoot and Moony to the press," he stated. "Remember? Skeeter's article? It was him, he caught them and sold them away, he tried to ruin my best friends' lives— Honestly, sometimes it seems like he succeeded."

Gideon's eyes had widened, and his grip on James was less tight now.

James nodded sourly, sharing the slight grimace of surprise and indignation.

"It was some kind of…revenge, I guess. Crouch was Regulus's friend, Sirius and Regulus weren’t in their best moment. Crouch saw his opportunity and used it." As he spoke, his jaw tensed.  "When Regulus found out, he felt betrayed, but... There was always something that kept him from hating Crouch, that pushed him to defend him. And I was there, listening to how the guy that had ruined Sirius's life was not as bad as he seemed ."

"That Regulus guy sounds like a true bastard."

James shrugged his shoulders. Something inside of him also kept him from cursing his name at the slightest opportunity. He looked at Gideon with embarrassment shining in his eyes. "Crouch deserves to pay for what he did. If not for what he did to Sirius and Remus, then at least for being a Death Eater. I need to see justice win at least once."

Gideon's pupils were eating into his irises. James lightened his frown, embarrassed as Gideon continued to stare at him. 

"I'm sorry if–"

"If you can prove he's a Death Eater, I suppose we could do something," Gideon spoke for him. "But be careful.”

First James raised his eyebrows, and then a smirk spread across his face. He was still gripping Gideon's arm, squeezing it as he stopped himself from jumping. "I– I absolutely can do that," he whispered, determined. "I won't let you down."

"You couldn't possibly let me down." That made him turn a slight pink colour. He looked down, and while continuing to nod slowly, turned back determinedly. "Wait–! Where are you going?"

James answered without turning around. "To find Crouch!"

"But— Now ?"

"When else?"

Gideon didn't want to shout to avoid attracting attention, but James was already too far away to speak in a normal tone. Before he disappeared among the guests, he just yelled "Don't do anything stupid!"

Crouch hadn't been the only one to bring his son. It seemed to be a common practice among high-ranking Ministry employees. James came across quite a few young people his age, even some of his classmates— he could swear he recognised Charlotte Bletchley, the girl who’d emptied a pumpkin juice glass on his head, pacing among the guests hand in hand with an old man ( hopefully her dad).  Many had separated from their parents and the rest of the guests, Crouch among them. He, in particular, was in a group with five other boys, all of whom looked particularly similar; stuffy, rich and insufferable. He wasn't participating too actively in the conversation, and in general, it seemed that whatever his peers were talking about, he found it terribly uninteresting.

To the naked eye, Regulus and Crouch seemed as different as two people could be. In the little details, James could tell everything they shared; the remissive nod that made it clear he wasn't really listening, the bored expression, the condescending fake smile. If he tried hard enough, James could almost picture Regulus there with Crouch, talking to each other while pretending to belong. 

He almost felt bad stealing Crouch's mate; then, the image of Regulus walking a few steps behind him and Rosier through Little Haggleton’s greenish, dark forest jumped into his head.

It took time to find him alone. His father came over every once in a while to make him greet people, and he obediently nodded and shook hands with a dry and tired expression, not a hint of sympathy. He didn't seem like the rebelliously outspoken bloke he was at Hogwarts—he wondered if that was a common theme among Slytherins, being an entirely different person when it came to their parents.

Finally, after what seemed like hours (though it was probably just a few minutes) Crouch went to the bathroom, and James, who was standing behind a pillar and using the passing waiters to hide, began to run through the guests before Barty got out of sight.

It wasn’t Crouch’s first Ministry party, and James had no doubt of that when he saw him move swiftly among the guests and quickly find the hallway leading out of the room. James stood at the doorway for a few seconds watching him walk down the hall alone until he was sure it was safe to follow.

The Ministry was large and had convoluted corridors. James didn't have much space to hide in a hallway without pillars or statues, so he had to let Crouch walk a fair distance from him so he wouldn't be noticed. When he stopped at a door and went inside, James finally started to run. However, as he was about to grab the doorknob and burst into the room, a hand caught his forearm and pulled him back.

"What in the world could you possibly be doing?"

James recognized Lily's voice without having to turn around. When she pulled him, James saw the shadow of the tall, blonde boy accompanying her. "Are you following me?"

"I don't know. Are you in need to be followed?"

"I'm not twelve, Evans, I don't need to be watched."

"Then why do you keep acting like a twelve-year-old?" She sulked, yanking James back away from the boys' bathroom door. "Harry, make sure no one's here."

The blond boy seemed to have some complaints to make, but he still turned around and went to check the hallway, making sure no one was coming.

"Crouch? Really? You were following Crouch ?"

James seemed deeply irritated with the way Lily was holding him back. "He's a Death Eater," he stated. "I fucking saw him. At Voldemort's, he was with Regulus."

Lily shared a look with Harry, then turned her attention back to James. "This is full of Aurors, if you think he's a Death Eater just accuse him–"

"I already did! Moody already fucking knows! But they haven't been able to prove it because Ministry’s rules fucking suck."

"So you were going to take justice on your own?" she asked incredulously. "What were you planning, threatening him until he showed you his mark?"

"That'd be a great start, actually!"

"You have no chance against–"

"I'm not fucking talking to you, am I?" James cut off Harry, who had finally dared to speak. James didn't have time to utter more than two syllables before Lily jumped to defend him:

"Don't talk to him like that." She grabbed Harry's arm. James couldn't help but scoff. "He's right. You can't just jump Crouch in the middle of the Ministry and, fairly speaking, if he's a Death Eater…"

"He is a Death Eater."

"...Then he sure has less scruples than you. He won’t hesitate to use black magic."

"Do you think I will hesitate?" James rebuked irritably. "That bastard ruined Sirius's life. For all I care, I should be using unforgivable curses on his arse."

"Potter, don't be fucking—" Before Lily could finish her sentence, Harry grabbed her arm. James raised his eyebrows. "What?"

"Don't you hear that?" Harry intoned in that deep voice. Lily raised her eyebrows. "They're coming—Get behind this, quick."

James didn't hear anything, but judging by Lily's face, she must have also heard the footsteps that alerted her friend, because she quickly just grabbed his robes and dragged him behind the nearest black marble column with them. He was about to complain, but Lily jumped up and covered his mouth with her hands so he couldn't emit a single sound, looking around vigilantly. Seconds later, the bathroom door was pushed open.

"This is a pain in the arse, huh?" James, Lily and Harry held their breath so as not to be heard. Accompanying Crouch was another boy with his back to them, with broad shoulders and golden blond hair. They seemed to be the same age, judging by the youthful, disdainful voice. "Your father invited us to dinner."

“He tends to do that often,” Crouch's voice replied.

“Yeah, I've noticed. He recently invited the Minister, right? But got rejected."

There was a certain derision in the tone of whoever had just arrived. James recognized the voice, but he didn't quite fit it to a face.

“Wait,” Lily whispered, so low it seemed she was just moving her mouth in silence. "That's McLaggen!"

James frowned at her. "Elliott?"

Lily nodded effusively. "He and Emmeline had a thing, I've heard his voice more times than I care to admit this year. He's an arse. What the fuck’s he doing here?"

Harry whispered something in Lily's ear, and she clung closer to him while keeping her gaze fixed on Crouch and the boy with the golden locks. There was a confidence in the way they interacted that definitely made James uncomfortable.

"No surprise here, his father’s a big shot," Harry said out loud.

"Yeah, he was busy. Almost better. I wouldn’t want to spend an entire dinner listening to gossip and vanity,” Barty snapped back. “If I have to listen to the story of when your father got caught in bed with a Polyjuiced Rita Skeeter again, maybe I'll Avada Kedabra myself.”

McLaggen didn’t respond to that one.

They were still standing in front of the door. McLaggen fixing his hair, Crouch the buttons on his tunic. When it seemed that Barty was making up his mind to leave, McLaggen stopped him:

"Where's Black?"

James swallowed. He searched for Lily's gaze, but she seemed more focused on Harry. Harry, for his part, remained unfaced. James guessed that he didn't know who Regulus was.

"Black?" Crouch repeated. There was a dryness in his tone of voice that hadn't been so evident before. "You mean Regulus?"

"Well, I sure don't mean his disowned older brother."

James wrinkled his nose. He didn't like McLaggen's tone, or the fact that he was talking to Crouch at all.

"He doesn't have any more business here than Regulus,” Barty said. “Mr Black’s activities are with The International Confederation. Little has his son to do at a gathering of British Aurors.”

Barty's shoulders had tensed, and he no longer seemed to have any intention of leaving. McLaggen, for his part, seemed to be still busy with his hair. "Well, since his father has gotten worse, I thought maybe he’d start showing up in these things on a more official level.”

James wasn't aware of any news about Orion Black getting worse, so he thought that maybe Walburga was interested in keeping that kind of thing away from the general public. Whatever the case, he forced himself to swallow any doubts about Regulus' well-being.

It wasn't his business anymore and he had to remember that.

"Although, you know." McLaggen nudged Crouch playfully. James wondered if he didn't notice Barty's obvious discomfort, or if McLaggen was just cold like that. "Rumour has it he’s got enough to worry about on his own."

"And what’s that supposed to mean?"

James was silent for several seconds, his gaze fixed on McLaggen and he watched as he gave Crouch a knowing smile, as if to say don't play dumb .

"Is it true what they say? That he's a poof?" He asked, leaving a silence in the hallway that was only drowned out by Lily's gasp. "And with Potter? The James Potter? No less?"

James nearly lost his balance on the marble column and collapsed to the ground. Thankfully, Lily grabbed his arms at just the right moment, and Harry, with his broad build, managed to get them both upright.

Lily's eyes were wide, looking at Harry as if she expected him to have an explanation. James' gaze drifted to Lily's companion for just a second; he was avoiding eye contact with him. From his uncomfortable face and wrinkled expression, James guessed that he was one of those homophobes. He clucked contemptuously before turning to Lily again:

"How the fuck do they–?" she asked in a whisper. She looked at Harry but then turned her attention back to James. “You told–?"

"Are you stupid? You think I'd tell McLaggen?" James spat, also under his breath. He heard Crouch and Elliott pick up the conversation, and James lightly slapped Lily’s arm to silence her.

"Yeah, Lestrange told Avery, Avery told Belby, Belby told me. It’s basically an open secret.” James shook his head, clenching his fists. "I didn't know Potter was queer, though. I mean, I heard he'd done something with Macmillan…? I assumed it was a rumour. People love to make things up these days. Black had indeed been hanging out a lot with those four, but I guessed it was because of his brother." 

"If you already know all the gossip, why do you need me to tell you?"

"Cause it's just… so weird, mate. And Potter… he seemed like a good lad."

" In what world? "

McLaggen chuckled. "I knew that Black—Sirius, I mean, we all knew he was queer. Never gave him a hard time, of course. God, I wouldn't want to cross him and Potter on the wrong side. But what I didn't see coming was that he was a pansy too."

"Birds of a feather."

McLaggen clicked his tongue. "I wouldn't say that too loud, Black and you were thick as thieves, weren't you?"

"Take that however you like."

Silence fell. Then McLaggen burst out laughing. "Don't joke about that stuff, mate," he muttered. "So, it's true, innit? About Black." Barty's silence as Elliott finally finished with his hair and leaned against the wall was telling enough. "Bloody hell. His family sure didn’t take it well. And with Potter, on top of it all?"

"Catastrophic, yeah."

"To say the least! I guess he won't be showing up in public for a while, then. They’re the ones you least expect, huh?"

James was starting to feel the heat running through his body. He clenched his fists until his nails dug into his palms, noticing how his breathing quickened. McLaggen kept spouting words like pansy or poof as he continued to talk to Crouch, mentioning Sirius or Remus— or worse, Regulus. Between the hatred he felt for Crouch and the contempt he was gaining for McLaggen, he was starting to feel beside himself.

Finally, the final straw was Harry, who intervened with a simple: "Don't do anything stupid."

Lily's attempt to contain him was futile, because James separated from the column, knocking her off balance and having to be helped by Harry. He revealed himself to the two youngsters chatting in front of the bathroom door, who took only a second to react. When they finally came to terms that James Potter was in front of them, looking like some mad dog, Crouch wasted no time in pulling out his wand as James lunged for McLaggen.

“Potter?” Elliott asked, backing away. He was wearing the same type of outfit as Crouch, formal and stiff with a touch of messy nonchalance. "How long–? You've been there all this–?" He found it impossible to finish his question, however, because James had thrown him against the wall, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. “ I—! ”

"What were you saying just now about Sirius?" He asked. "That I am a what ? I didn't hear you correctly. What are the ones you least expect?" McLaggen tried to get James to let go, but he didn't budge. "Can’t hear you!"

James's face was red, his eyes watering. An irremediable sense of shame had been added to his anger, while the sudden mention of his relationship with Regulus had felt like a slap in the face.  Upon seeing his expression, McLaggen only grew nervous. “I didn’t–! Mate I didn’t mean–!”

"James for fuck's sake!" Lily bellowed, cutting McLaggen off. She was hiding Harry behind her –which looked quite ridiculous, considering how enormous he was in comparison–, and had drawn her wand as well. Crouch looked from one to the other, but didn't seem to intend to say anything yet. “ Focus! ”

James ground his teeth. He progressively tightened his fist on the collar of McLaggen’s shirt, who futilely resisted his grip. It wasn't until he heard his cough as he began losing his breath that he focused on him again. He let him go with contempt, allowing him to stand unsteadily. James made a move to punch him, just to stop at the last second and scoff at seeing him squirm.

"Get out of here," he ordered with a snarl. Lily couldn't help but roll her eyes.

As McLaggen collected himself and stormed out, James drew his wand and pointed it at Crouch as well:

"How the fuck does he know about Regulus and me?" He questioned as he moved closer. Crouch backed up, but only a couple of steps. "Tell me! How the fuck does he–!"

"James!" Lily squealed again. This time her voice sounded a lot more impatient. "This is certainly not what we’ve–!"

"I don't give a fuck, Evans!" James cut her off. His gaze was still fixed on Crouch, furious. "What the hell were you and he talking about?"

Barty was staring at James in incomprehension. He glanced at Lily and Harry, who looked greatly distressed. He kept his wand glued to his thigh, pointed at James but not quite drawing it. "You should know," he replied. "Is he here? He shouldn't–"

"James, this is a terrible idea," Lily insisted, stepping forward to grab the arm James was pointing at Barty with. James held her with his other arm. "You can't—!"

"Evans, fuck off!" he exclaimed, pushing her away. Harry caught her before she collided with anything. "Crouch! How the fuck did he know–?"

"He didn't tell you what happened at Malfoy's wedding?" Barty cut him off, watching suspiciously as Lily pulled herself together, smoothing down her dress. It's not all roses on the good guys' side either, huh?  Before continuing he looked around. "You can't be here, seriously, it's–"

"It's you who can't be here," James cut him off. "What could a fucking Death Eater possibly be doing at an Auror meeting?" He grimaced. "You can't even feel shame, can you? Your kind ."

Barty raised an eyebrow. He was looking at James as if they didn't speak the same language—James decided to ignore that. Whatever technique Crouch intended to use to throw him off, it wouldn't work. 

"Yeah, don't bother denying it," he scoffed. I saw you. You were with–"

" James! " Lily chimed in a third time. This time James only bit the inside of his cheek. "What the hell are you doing!"

"What I’ve got to do, Evans!"

"You're not supposed to talk about that !"

“Talk about what ?” Barty asked.

James glared at him, pointing his wand closer. “None of your fucking business,” he spat. "How the hell did McLaggen know about Regulus and me?"

Barty was quieter than usual—James had expected a more direct confrontation, some shouting, some hexes, but it was difficult to fight someone who didn't even have his wand pointed at him. He supposed that, like Regulus, the Death Eaters were taking a toll on him—well, no one could stand in Voldemort's presence while keeping sane, he supposed. He was haggard and distant. It was quite telling how he kept looking over his shoulder, as if he were afraid someone could appear behind them—wether it was his father, someone from the Order or some other higher-ranking Death Eater, that James didn't know.

"The word got out after the wedding, it's an open secret," Barty explained shortly. "Seriously, I shouldn't be talking to you–"

"Why? Voldemort won't let–"

"Don't say that name!" Barty cut him off, eyes widening in fear. "If I see anything I'll have to report it, Regulus knows that. Don't be a fool and get away while you can. This place is full of them."

Crouch started to walk away, as if the wand James was pointing at him was a toy, as if he didn't really consider him a threat.

‘This place is full of them’, you'd have to have balls to say something like that , James cursed.

Lily and Harry shouted his name in unison. His face really made it clear that he wasn't listening to anything or anyone. Barty tried to pull out his wand, which he was already putting away in his jacket, but James stopped his hand with his knee, trapping his fingers.

"You knobhead, what the fuck!" Barty roared, glaring at James with eyes full of anger—ah, that felt more familiar. Crouch feisty and fighty. Wouldn't be fun any other way. He struck out at the arm holding him; James had to struggle to keep him in place, but he managed. "You've got Regulus, man! Why the fuck are you coming here looking for a fight?"

" I've got Regulus? " James spat out the name. "That's a bloody funny way to put it!"

"This is a bloody funny way of putting your life at fucking risk!" Barty struggled some more. James tightened his grip on the knee that was pressing his fingers against the wall, eliciting a little cry of pain from him. "You've got all the Death Eaters chasing both of your arses, and you're coming to pull one of these? Are you fucking joking? Jeez Reg! You fucking know how to pick them!"

It took James several seconds to respond. "What?"

Barty frowned. "What?" he repeated impatiently. "Regulus left a good mess when he ran away. The Dark Lord wants his head on a platter—and you come here to directly provoke–!"

"Regulus ran away?"

Barty stopped talking at that very moment. He looked James straight in the eyes, all hostility gone from his own. " What? "

"James," Lily interrupted once more. "He's manipulating you, let's just leave this and go, seriously—"

"I'm manipulating—? What the fuck are you talking about!" Barty repeated skeptically, looking at Evans like she'd grown a second head. "He's with you, isn't he? He has to be."

James repeated, feeling himself go light-headed: "He ran away?"

Barty felt James' grip on his chest loosen, almost letting him go. Barty stood in front of him, still. He looked at Lily, who seemed to have a lump in her throat, and at Harry—he’d never seen him before, and he had rather no intention of asking his identity.

"He's been missing for weeks, Potter."

James leaned against the wall. "He hasn’t."

Barty was growing paler by the second. "We’ve got orders to look for him. He was assumed to be hiding with the Order."

"He's not."

"He's not with you?"

"He’s with you , you're fucking lying."

Barty opened his mouth. “ Wha–? ” Then he shook his head.“He’s told you to tell me this? Is this your way of getting me to admit something?"

James’ wand almost slipped out of his hands. Silence flooded the hall, and for a moment all James and Barty looked at was each other's confused gaze.

"What does he even want from me?" Barty exclaimed, somewhat agitated. "Get me caught? Throw me straight into Azkaban? Is he the reason my father went ballistic on me a few days ago? You've got to be kidding me–!"

"The reasons your father went ballistic on you is because you're a fucking Death Eater!" James accused again, as if regaining confidence. He squeezed Barty's chest again—his face didn't show as much confidence, nor as much anger. "Cut the crap, you won't be able to fool me."

Every refusal from James, every phrase from the other that just didn't seem to get through, put Barty a little more on edge. His eyes were denoting real alarm.

"What does he get out of making you say this?" Barty muttered, cracking his brain until it seemed to hurt. James barely seemed to hear him. "He's with the Order, he has to be. You're lying to me aren't you? Is this your little revenge; for what I did to his brother, or for being a— " He gulped. "No, no . He's here, isn't he? You wouldn't leave him alone. He's hidden watching and laughing, isn't he? Come out, Regulus!" he exclaimed, pushing James's chest back so that his voice echoed through the hallway. "Come out! Don't hide anymore, you bastard!"

"Both of you shut it!" Lily yelled at once, afraid that they would attract the attention of the guests.

" You shut it! Tell me where the fuck’s my best friend!"

James's hands had started to shake. Barty was growing nervous. Neither of them knew if the other one was playing with them, and neither of them wanted to trust too much.

" Your best friend betrayed me—betrayed all of us. Broke my fucking heart, and now he’s out there acting like Vodldemort's little dog along with all of you rats," James finally spat out, as if recovering the last few ounces of courage he had left. "So stop fucking playing, Crouch.”

Barty shook his head. His chest heaved. "Tell me you're kidding," he ordered, though it sounded more like a plea. "I'll admit to anything you fucking want, yeah ? Tell me it's all a fucking joke and that you're trying to manipulate me. Regulus is with you— He’s got to be, he—He’s got nowhere else to go."

Barty's eyes filled with tears. It was that exact moment when James decided to lower his wand.

It could've been a trick, but something about the desperate way Crouch tried to maintain his tough appearance while holding back his tears made James' blood run cold.

He took a step back, but couldn't even make an attempt to ask anything, because Crouch took off down the hall, disappearing into the door that led back to the guest lounge.

"We can't let him do something crazy," Harry told Lily.

"Don't fuck with me, Harry," she cursed.

James missed the mess of blonde and red hair running off, too busy hyperventilating to pay attention.

The tunic began to squeeze too much, and without thinking he unbuttoned it and threw it to the ground, leaving himself in trousers and a shirt.

Soon, he felt the need to sit on the ground.

He ran away. He has to be with you. He’s got nowhere else to go.

If Regulus wasn't with the Death Eaters and he wasn't with the Order, where the hell was he?

Was Crouch lying? Or were the tears streaming from his eyes and the trembling of his hands too genuine to be lies? Such great actors were the Death Eaters?

James felt a knot tie his throat and his breath not entering his chest. He sat in the hallway for a few minutes, silent, replaying the conversation in his head.

He felt his vision tunneling, the corners darkening until he could barely see the pattern of the hallway tiles. He was hot, and cold, and hot again.

What finally snapped him out of her reverie was Gideon, who suddenly appeared stomping down the hallway to the bathroom.

"Crouch was running away with that red hair chasing him—" He stopped suddenly, crouching down to James. "What happened? Did he attack you?"

James shook his head. Gideon started checking on him anyways. 

"We've talked for bit."

"If he confessed we can–"

"He hasn't confessed," James cut in quickly. "No, not at all.” Or had he? He couldn't tell. “Wish he had."

Gideon frowned. He thought maybe Crouch had cast some confounding spell on him, and checked his eyes for some strange appearance. It was of no use, however, as James finally came to his senses when he grabbed his hands and sat up straight.

"Gid," James began, "is there any chance Regulus isn't a Death Eater?"

Gideon gasped, pulling away from James a bit. " What are you taking about?"

"Crouch said–"

"I’m sorry, are we trusting Crouch for anything to do with pinpointing Death Eaters?"

"I know how it sounds," James said hastily. "But— He seemed so... confused... When I tried to accuse him he seemed so convinced that Regulus was with the Order–"

" With the Order? " Gideon repeated mockingly, unable to keep in the chuckle. "James. I know you want to cling to whatever hope you get, but he's a Death Eater, that's what they do, lie ."

James closed his eyes in frustration. "I know, I know, I—Fuck, if you had seen it –"

"I’d have been fooled too? Doubt it."

"Lily can tell you!"

"I have no proof that Lily is any less gullible than you." James looked slightly offended, but Gideon licked his lips and gripped his shoulders comfortingly. "James. What was the plan?"

He swallowed. "Prove that Crouch was a Death Eater?"

"Exactly. And what are you doing now?"

"To…" He closed his eyes, defeated. "To question if Regulus is one."

Gideon smiled, humourlessly. "Damn. What a great outcome for Crouch, am I right?" James looked down. "They know where your weak point is, James. That's a very fucking dangerous weapon, you can't let them use it against you."

"I–I know, but..."

“We saw him go in, James,” Gideon interrupted. James clenched his fists at his sides. "Alright? I know you like him–"

“I don't like him. Not anymore.”

Gideon tilted his head toward him. He didn't argue, but his gaze didn't agree. “They’re just toying with you. They expect you to do something stupid, to fall into their traps, they use those kind of cheap tricks.”

James shook his head. Maybe Crouch was a heartless person, but Gideon couldn't be possibly lumping Regulus into the same pack. "He wouldn't–"

His sentence was cut off in the middle. He wouldn't? What the hell did James know about what Regulus would and wouldn't do? He also thought he wouldn't join the Death Eaters. He also thought he wouldn't break his heart. He also thought he'd be with him forever.

Was Regulus the type to weaponize his feelings in such a way? Well, for all James knew, maybe he was.

He bit his lip, his gaze fixed on the tiles. Gideon loosened the grip on his shoulders, and James dropped his head forward until his forehead crashed into his shoulder.

“Why does he keep doing this to me?” he helplessly asked. “Do I really deserve this? I loved him, Gid. Why’s he doing this to me?"

“You trust people too easily.”

"Yeah, that's what he said," James pointed out, "Maybe he was warning me about himself."

Gideon shook his head. He put an arm around James's shoulders as he tried to let all the emotions inside. James, feeling disgustingly lonely, wrapped his arms around Gideon's torso and laced his fingers behind his back. He clung to him, hiding his forehead in the crook of his neck.

“I hate him,” he whispered. “He knows how to hurt me. I hate that he knows how to hurt me. I hate that he can– Will use it against me. I hate him so fucking much… Fuck I just…"

Gideon nuzzled the back of James's neck.

“I wish I never fucking met him,” he confessed. "I'm such a fucking idiot, I just fucking wish I could forget him. I hate him so much." The more he talked, the more he squeezed Gideon between his arms. “I wish I could hate him like before I met him— No, fuck that, I just wish I had never met him."

Gideon squeezed James's shoulder gently. “It’s alright, we’ll work it out.”

James shook his head. “No, no , I don't want to work it out . I'm sick of doing things right, of trying to fix everything in the way it hurts the most. I want to nip it all in the bud." 

He lifted his head from Gideon's neck and, still clinging to his torso, looked into his eyes. There was a strange shine to them, and Gideon struggled to maintain his stare:

“Gideon,” he started, “I want you to Obliviate me.” When he saw Gideon's eyes widen, he clung tighter and quickly added. "Please. Please, I'm begging you. It’ll be better for everyone, just… Just make it so that he never existed, please…”

“James, that’s absolutely–!”

"Gideon please," he murmured. "Please, I don't want to feel like this. It hurts. It hurts so fucking much and I don't know how to make it stop. He can use all of this against me and I can’t help but care about him and it's so fucking draining. I hate him, Gid. I hate him as much as you could hate someone. I just want him the fuck out of my life."

"James, I get it, but–"

"Gideon please," he whispered. His voice began to sound muffled against Gdeon's clothing. "Please."

"James–"

" Please ."

James was still muttering pleas when Gideon forced him away. He grabbed his shoulders, but James kept his eyes on the floor, so he went up to his cheeks and made him stare up at him.

"James," he interrupted, trying to make him listen. "I understand it hurts–"

James shook his head effusively. "It's not just fucking pain," he cut in frantically. "Look what the fuck just happened," he whispered. The lenses of his glasses fogged up. "He tried to play me, in the most–" He let out a sob. Gideon brushed away a few tears that had fallen with his thumb. "He's made me worry about him again, despite everything, Gid. He tried to make me believe that– Oh, God. How can he be so evil? How? I don't get it, really. Why is he doing this to me? To us?"

Gideon felt like tearing up too as James's face flooded with tears. 

He hadn't snapped in such a way yet, not even when he'd seen Regulus go into Voldemort’s house at Little Haggleton, but it was clear this had finally been the last straw. It seemed that ultimately, Black had managed to finish him off.

"I loved him," James promised, like he thought Gideon wasn't going to believe him. "I would’ve done anything for him. And this is what I get in return? Being hurt in every way possible? Is that really what fucking love feels like?"

Gideon kept shaking his head uselessly, as if hoping that would inspire him to say something that would fix all of James's problems. "James," he called, "I'm sorry that your first love was someone who didn't deserve you. And I fucking understand that it hurts. But you're not alone. You can count on me and all your friends and… Obliviating you is really not–"

"Maybe it's better to be alone, maybe then no one could hurt me."

This time, Gideon shook his head frantically, kneeling in front of James to get closer. "No," he whispered, "No, no. Don't let him make you think that. Don't let them ruin you, James. You’ve got a pure heart and neither Regulus Black nor any of those bastards will ever appreciate it.” James's eyes were still glazed over. Gideon noticed his vision blur. “You hear me? People love you and you love people and that's a good thing. Hurting people and backstabbing—that's fucking evil. They are the ones who should be crying in a corner.”

James's eyes held an expression that Gideon had never seen before—that he didn't even imagine James could show. He looked so broken, it was devastating when compared to his usual unwavering joy and determination. He seemed so close to giving up that for a moment Gideon doubted he was talking to someone else entirely.

"Please make me forget him."

Gideon gulped. Potter’s voice sounded exhausted. "James, I can't."

"Why not? I'm sure they teach you to do that in the academy."

"I won't , James," he sentenced, "it wouldn't be fair."

"This fucking feeling is what’s not fair."

"That's precisely why I can't let you make such a decision now," he explained. James seemed to finally relax. Tears still fell from his eyes but with a much less hectic passivity. "You're fucked up. You were when you kissed me, and now even more so. I'm not going to take advantage of this, let alone make you forget about that arsehole because it hurts too much. I'm sorry, but I won't."

It came to a point where James simply couldn't see past the blurry specks in his glasses. He blinked as his lips pursed and his teeth nibbled at small flakes of skin, nervously trying not to sob. "I fucking hate this," he muttered brokenly. "I want him to pay for this."

"He will," Gideon assured, "I'll make sure of it, I promise."

James looked up almost instantly. His reddened eyes looked a lot softer when they were locked on him. 

Gideon's heart skipped a beat.

" God ," James muttered. He grabbed Gideon's wrist, whose palm continued to burn against the skin of his cheek. He finally seemed to give in to his own impulses as he leaned into him roughly.

If James had kissed him, Gideon would probably have had a hard time resisting, but luckily for both of them, he just wrapped his arms around him again, squeezing his back as hard as he could without hurting him.

One arm went over his shoulder, the other under his armpit, and James's hands clung to the clothing on his back with clenched fists. Gideon held his breath as he held on to a pillar to keep from falling.

“I just wish– Oh, God,” he mumbled, “Falling in love with you is the best that could happen to me.”

Gideon swallowed, then hugged James back tight.

The weight of the wand became tempting in his pocket, but he pushed that thought away as soon as it crossed his mind.

"Don't leave me alone, please ," James whispered.

───────────────────

Saturday 2nd September 1978— Alice and Frank’s Wedding

Alice and Frank's wedding was in a small farmhouse that Frank's parents had in the south. It was homey and had few guests, and Frank's mother seemed to be running everything while Alice's approached the guests with friendly smiles and apologized for her daughter's mother-in-law.

The music was soft and sparkled with short Muggle instrumental songs that could go unnoticed by the ears of Frank's traditional parents. Frank was wearing a heavy robe that looked too hot for August, but his discomfort was offset by the bright smile on his face.

James would be lying if he said he wasn't the slightest bit jealous, with Sirius and Remus holding hands and chatting with the guests and Frank with his seemingly constant bliss. He was alone, with Peter as his only company, while the girls were away with the bride—bridesmaid duties and all that.

Despite Sirius' insistence that James took Gideon, it wasn't until after the Auror meeting that James decided that maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea—unfortunately, Alice already had the whole thing organized, so James decided to let it be so as not to put more tasks on her shoulders.

Elves were strolling around with canapes, and Peter (who’d always been a little grossed out by them) moved aside to make way for them. He was telling James that the lists of students admitted to the Potions Academy had already come out (unsurprisingly, he'd gotten in) and that among them were a large number of Slytherins.

"Don't get me wrong, there are good people too. That group of Ravenclaw stoners? A bunch of them are there. Hope I can manage well."

"You can always make friends with the older students or with people from other schools—I won't be the one to encourage anyone to fraternize with the French, but a bunch of students from Beauxbatons come to England for their higher studies."

“Yeah, them too. I'm sure I'll find someone to talk to. It's just... You know, I haven't exactly missed Snape. Or Mulciber. Or any of them. And specially knowing everything they've done this summer." He gulped. "I know it doesn't really change anything and that they've always been like that but... damn . Death Eaters. It's... Feels so serious. So unlike Hogwarts."

James grimaced. "Yeah. Even if we always knew, it's... weird. Drastic. Scary ." He patted Peter's back, watching his face turn pale. He was determined not to discuss any serious and dark topics at the wedding. "But, c'mon, cheer up. You'll be alright."

Peter smiled weakly. "I know, I know." He rested his elbow on the table. "It's just... I just don't like having them around."

"Well, if something goes wrong, remember that we'll be a couple of streets down." He tossed his hair back. "And I can't imagine a better plan for a group of young Aurors than to beat up a few wannabe-Death Eaters."

Except they weren't just wannabes anymore. They were Death Eaters . Grown, evil Death Eaters. Not the kind that tormented kids in the hallways, but the kind that got imprisoned for killing Muggles. 

Damn. He couldn't believe he was going to miss cursing Mulciber's teeth into doubling their size. The next time they saw each other it would probably be a fight to the death.

When had everything gone so wrong?

James sighed, but tried to keep that thought out of Peter's head.

Pettigrew’s smile widened. His robe was definitely too long for him, and from time to time he stepped on the bottom with the toes of his shoes, stumbling clumsily. James put an arm around him and handed him a glass of white wine while he drank one for himself—Muggle wine, another concession granted by Frank's mother, just because it was a ton less alcoholic than its Wizard counterpart.

By the time Sirius, Remus, Peter, and James rejoined, the girls had already emerged from their hiding place, beaming with delight in their matching dresses as they led Frank to where the ceremony would take place.

James forced himself to forget about his troubles for an afternoon, to pat Frank on the shoulder, who was standing by the altar with flushed cheeks and cold sweat pouring down the back of his neck (which his mother made sure to wipe with a handkerchief made of cloth, knocking people off in her way with her wide hat crowned with a rather disturbing stuffed animal.) He forced himself to pretend that he loved being surrounded by joy and love and people hand-in-hand. He marvelled at how gorgeous Alice looked when the venue fell silent and she walked through the crowd, walking down the aisle with a bouquet of roses, clinging tightly to her father's arm.

He nearly shed a tear or two at the vows, and joined in the suggestive hissing of his friends as Frank leaned Alice over and planted a kiss on her lips. 

Love ruled , and it ruled a lot more when the person you loved wasn't constantly trying to tear you apart, and obviously Frank and Alice could brag about that (if it was something to even brag about).

James drank a few extra glasses of wine as they ate, sitting at the circular tables he shared with his Hogwarts friends—Marlene commented on the earrings and pendant Lily wore, which were apparently incredibly expensive, and she just smiled and hinted she had some help choosing her attire (which Marlene didn’t question, because according to her Evans’ style was no better than Professor Sprout’s). Dorcas, Peter and Emmeline enjoyed the children's menu (none of the three ever too fond of fish), and Remus asked the waiter to bring back another steak because his was overcooked (even though in James' eyes it was, basically, raw).

James, for his part, talked to Sirius about the academy and shared his excitement as the first day approached, while they received the occasional paper plane requesting a dance for later from other guests (Sirius winning by a landslide). His head would turn from time to time to look for his parents, finding them sat at the table with other old people, making sure they were having a good time.

He hadn't told Sirius about the Ministry meeting or what happened there, for he certainly didn't see the need to re-admit out loud how Regulus had toyed with his heart and then tore it to shreds—all without even needing to be there, on top of it all.

Now and again, the crowd started cheering for the bride and groom to kiss, and James joined in, waving his cloth napkin in the air and whistling each time they catered to the guests, like seeing their smiles and joyful eyes as they beheld each other didn't kill him inside. 

The first dance came, and he took Lily as his date while Frank and Alice showed off all the dance classes they’d taken in the last month. Sirius joined Marlene and Remus joined Emmeline (to fit a bit into the heteronormativity of the whole event, not wanting to make the bride and groom's grandparents faint earlier than necessary) and Peter was left stumbling awkwardly with Dorcas a little further ahead.

Lily was fairly beautiful, even if James hadn't ever taken much notice of her appearance. Her dress was delicate and elegant, long and tight—not too similar to the ones she’d normally choose, more loose and open and flowery. For a wedding with barely fifty guests in a farmhouse, she seemed to be dressed for the wedding of the Minister for Magic.

"Give your stylist a raise, they’ve rocked it."

She tossed her hair back as she let James put a hand on her waist. "Is it so difficult to believe that I’ve chosen this?"

"It doesn't really feel like your style."

She smiled. Her lips had a pink tint that contrasted elegantly with her hair. "It's not," she admitted, "Don't get me wrong, I like it, I just think it makes me look…"

"Snobby?"

"Yeah, that," she conceded. "If it’s any consolation, you clearly haven’t had any help getting dressed."

James raised an eyebrow. The music played slowly –so much so that it was getting boring– and he spun with Lily around the room as if he knew what he was doing. "Sharp-tongued, Evans! Didn’t have you for the silent killer."

"I have my virtues," she boasted encouragingly. She also took a look around her, tired of the parsimonious pace. "About what happened the other day at the Ministry..."

James cleared his throat, looking away. "We don’t need to talk about it.”

 “I just want to know how you’re doing," she said. "What happened with Crouch and... Well, all that stuff he said..."

"All bullshit, of course."

She hesitated for a few seconds, then she nodded hectically. "Yeah," she sighed. "Still, you seemed affected, I hope all is well."

James shrugged his shoulders. "As good as one could be. It was, in a way, the wake-up call I needed." Lily frowned as if asking for an explanation. "Is Black evil enough to do that to me? Great, so fuck him. Let him rot wherever he is. Right now the only thing I feel is fucking regret for having ever met him.”

 Lily made a pout. "You don't mean that."

"I most certainly fucking do," James retorted irritably. "And certainly Evans, I know you were fond of him, but the people he's precisely out there to kill are your people, so you might as well remember that."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I know, they're after Muggle-borns. You tell me that every chance you get. Have you ever considered not telling me how I have to live the oppression of my own people?" She narrowed her eyes. The makeup she was wearing made them look sharper, topped off by her green eyes. "I remind you that the one they want dead is me ."

James looked at her with a sigh. "I didn't mean it to sound like that."

"Well, that's how it sounded," she went on. "But you know what? There's no use in fighting. In the end, we’re all on the same side." James nodded. They took the next steps of the dance in silence. James looked around for Marlene and Lily for Remus, but they both seemed more than delighted with their own dance partners. "Still, I don't think how you're handling the Regulus issue is..."

"With all due respect, Evans, it's my relationship and I'll handle it however I want to."

"But the way you're using Gideon–"

"I'm not fucking using Gideon!" James cut her off. His pitch was a little higher than necessary, and Frank's mother (who happened to be dancing nearby with Alice's father) took it upon herself to hush them. After a few seconds had passed, Lily intervened again:

"You're still in love with Regulus."

"Not anymore," James hissed.

"Yeah, right," she muttered sceptically. "You're going to break his heart."

James raised his eyebrows. "I don't see how. Gideon’s everything I've ever wanted," he spat. "He's handsome, has convictions, he’s funny, and most importantly—he wouldn't even think of joining the other side. He doesn't have friends that get in the way or a family that makes decisions for him. He owns himself and his actions— And even, his actions only make me fall more for him."

James swallowed hard when he said the last sentence.

He was falling for Gideon, whether Lily Evans liked it or not.

"So I really appreciate your opinion, Evans, but I know how to run my own life."

Luckily for them, the song ended a few seconds later, and Lily was able to pull away from him, give a forced smile, and stomp away, letting her long red hair flow down her bare back.

James adjusted his shirt collar —as night drew near and Frank's mother filled herself with wine, she’d become a bit more pleasant to be around— and scanned the room for another dance partner; luckily, Marlene got to him without James having to exert much effort.

She also wore her own set of expensive jewellery and tight dresses, but on her, it was a more common sight.

The dress was satin, matching the colour of the rest of the bridesmaids, and her hair looked no different than any other day, golden curls falling down her back like she’d just stepped out of the sea. Her tanned skin and glossy lips made her beauty look effortless.

James smiled vaguely as he grabbed her hand and slid her down the dance floor.

"Evans looks pissed off."

"She always gets pissed off when she talks to me, I don't know how she manages."

"I don't know how you manage to piss her off with every word you say."

They shared a smile as James spun her on her own axis and the bottom of her dress twirled with the movement. 

"Well, if this is any consolation," she patted the shoulder of his jacket, as if wiping away dust. "If Black was here, he’d die if he saw you dressed like that."

James had to laugh. Marlene had never been an expert in reading the room—Or perhaps she was and just didn't care. "It's a tiny consolation."

"Works for me."

They kept dancing until the song ended, and then it was James and Sirius, James and Peter, James and Remus, and even in a moment of Augusta Longbottom's dim lucidity, James managed to get a couple of laps around the floor with her. He raised his wineglass each time the waiter came over to offer more drink, and soon he was swaying from side to side. Sirius would crack up in his sobriety every time James said something embarrassing or bumped into one of Frank's family members. Finally, Marlene, almost as drunk as he was, grabbed his shoulders and they started spinning around the floor, laughing each time something was knocked over. Upon leaving the compound, Euphemia told Sirius that they both still acted the same as when they were children.

James's parents had left a good handful of hours before, but he and his friends didn't call the night over until it was near dawn. Remus and Peter decided to help the girls get home safe and sound, while Sirius appointed himself James and Marlene's personal escort. He dropped the blonde off at her house, then left James inside his room, taking care not to wake the Potters.

"That chick's a nutcase," Sirius whispered as he removed James's jacket and laid it carelessly on his desk. "And you smell like a distillery, I hope you know that you’re banned from Christmas dinners at Frank's for life."

James bit his tongue as he laughed. "Look who's talking!" he exclaimed, taking a kick to the shin from Sirius that made him drop his voice almost instantly. "If you kissed Moony one more time near Mrs Longbottom I think she would’ve had a stroke."

Sirius chuckled mischievously. "What can I say, I love making old ladies faint." 

"And young ladies too—Did you notice how Alice's cousins were looking at you? They were about to eat you alive!" Sirius cracked up. "And Moony to eat them ."

Sirius just gleefully shook his head, waving his wand to close the curtains in James's room. "Tomorrow you're going to wake up with a hell of a hangover."

"I'll survive."

"I certainly hope you will," he whispered. "I'd love to stay with you," he said, "but Moony's waiting for me. Seeing people drooling after me all night has him a little—on edge. I'm in for a ride of a night–"

James covered his ears so as not to hear anything else, yelling at Sirius not to say such things. Sirius just cracked up giving him a couple of pats on the back. By the time James wanted to remove his hands from his ears, Sirius had vanished from the room.

He collapsed onto the mattress, drunk on Muggle alcohol and feeling something very close to floating. He undid his belt and a couple of buttons on his shirt and reached up to stretch his arms, releasing a satisfied groan.

Suddenly, in his hand, he noticed the reflection of a ring.

Weird. He didn't wear rings.

“You want one?” Regulus repeated. He turned fully, facing James, then leaned on one of his elbows and separated their hands, removing one of his rings. “I hope it won’t be too small on you.”

James let Regulus take hold of his hand, holding it in his cold digits, and slipping a silver ring onto his index finger.

Oh.

Right.

He removed the ring that had stayed on his finger all summer, refusing to take it off, clinging to some kind of…hope, or love, or God knows what stupidity.

He threw it on the bedroom floor, and it rolled under the bed out of sight.

Fuck you, Regulus, fuck you real bad.

He had enough people to love. He didn't need him and his fucking self-destruction.

I can be happy without you, he reminded Regulus, hoping that wherever he was, he could hear him.

He sat up in bed, not allowing his smile to fade from his face. He took in the starry sky, without a visible trace of the moon, turning orange with the first rays of the sun. 

He could be happy in so many ways that didn’t include Regulus Black, and he was finally realizing that.

Fuck you, Regulus, he whispered once more.

With his wand, he conjured up a piece of parchment, wrote something on it, and folded it into a poor paper aeroplane shape.

Yes, in fact , he was so happy that it only made sense that he would share his joy with someone. Someone other than Regulus. Someone who knew how to appreciate his smile and wouldn't take every opportunity to destroy it. Someone who really loved him and who was good for him.

He sat on the bed and threw the paper plane out the window, watching it disappear towards the mountains, towards Devon.

(...)

Gideon was dressing for his morning jog and was surprised when a piece of yellowed parchment pecked at his window, begging to enter.

When he reached it, he unfolded it sleepily and read it through his teeth. 

‘I’m drunk. Wanna come?

J. F .P ’