Jamiespxtter - ¬ James.

8 Days of Simon Lewis Positivity: Simon Smiling + Blue

nighttimestorrm​:

who: @jamiespxtter​ when: 1st january 1959 where: potters home

Despite how quickly Sirius had rushed to Godrics Hollow he couldn’t bring himself to go up the door. Instead he paced up and down the street, trying to control his shaking hands and his beating heart. Still none of this felt real. It must be a dream or some sort of hallucination. But there Godrics Hollow was, just how he remembered it before he came here on Halloween to find destroyed. He could still remember that night. The images would forever be in his memory, never to go away and instead would haunt his dreams. He could still hear the sound of Harry crying. He could remember begging Hagrid to give him to him. He was his Godfather. It was up to him to take care of him. But, no. That had been taken away from him. Just like everything else.

Shaking his head he forced himself to come to a stop and stared at the front door. What if they weren’t there? If it were only him that had been brought back to this time then it would feel as though he had lost them all over again. And he wasn’t strong enough to suffer that. If he walked in there and the place was empty. Or worse…the same as he last time he had saw it. That would break him beyond repair. So he just stood there. It was still early enough that the street was still quiet. Yet he knew he couldn’t stand there forever. So, not being brave enough to go up to the front door he tried to quietly make his way around the back. He would look in the window and see if there was any sign of life. And if not…then he didn’t know what he was going to do.

But as soon as he stepped into the back garden he froze. He just stared as there stood James, looking back at him. And he didn’t know what to do. There was a chance that James knew nothing of what was going on. That it was only Sirius that was effect by…whatever this is. So he knew he should at least try to act somewhat normal. But he couldn’t. A lump formed in his throat while he blinked away tears from his blurring eyes, scared that if he couldn’t see James he would disappear. Part of him still believed this was just a dream. But he didn’t care right in this moment. Because there was James just as he remembered him. A little bit younger but…still there. Alive.

He couldn’t move. If he did he knew he would just fall to his knees. All these years of missing his friend, his brother, came crashing over him like a wave threatening to drown him. There were so many things he wanted to say but he didn’t even know where to begin. He just wanted to forget about everything else for just a moment. Right now he just wanted his friend back. Yet he were afraid to reach out in case he were nothing but a ghost. And still, he would take that over nothing.

“J-James.” He finally managed to choke out and before he crumbled and let the sob he had been holding in take over him, a tear escaping down his cheek. “Are you…you’re real…right?” 

--

It’s been a long morning.

It aches in his bones, and over his shoulders. In his eyes, where he’s cried until he simply can’t cry any more, and deep, deep in his chest, an ache of a loss he can’t quite face yet. It’s not a question of where is Harry, because he’s simply not there any more, taken from existence like he meant nothing to the world. To them.

He knows Lily feels it, too. He can see it in the way she avoids going upstairs, the way she lingers around where his high chair used to be by their little kitchen table. So much of their life, their own existence, had been so entirely centered around him. Everything James had known about himself had shifted, geared into something newer, something better; a father, and a husband, a man who made promises, and kept them. And while he had wanted to believe he had done everything right, had put up the best fight he possibly could have to keep his family safe, the odds had been stacked against them. He barely stood a chance. Voldemort had the upper hand, had all the insider information to come to their home, to take what was theirs, to target their son.

He can’t face Peter. He refuses to.

He’d barely lasted two seconds in his own fight against Voldemort. It eats him up inside.

Breathing is hard. Living with that fact, is hard. It clings to his skin like ice, keeping him tense and cold, and for the second time that night, James finds himself out on the back step, the action familiar and foreign all the same. His hand is shaking as he lifts the cigarette to his lips, and he uses the tip of his wand to light it, frowning when he just can’t seem to steady his hand. It’s easier, in front of Lily, when he has to keep a brave face.

Alone? James is close to cracking.

There’s a sound by the side gate, and everything in him freezes up.

It’s too soon. It’s too much. Before he can help it, his heart is pounding in his chest, hard enough to hurt, and he raises his shaking hand, wand trembling in his grasp. They’ve faced too much to deal with this, again. He can’t handle this, again.

- only it’s Sirius, who comes around the side of the house, stopping dead when he spots him.

Time is suspended, for a moment. It hangs in the air, a weight between them he hasn’t experienced in the ten years they’ve been friends, brothers. James can see him, the way he had been, older and tattooed and so tired as they stood beside Harry in the forest, - and when he blinks, Sirius is nineteen again, crying as he looks at James.

“Pads, -” he manages, voice strangled, and James takes a step, and another, wand dropping until they’re barely a distance apart, “- Sirius?”

nighttimestorrm​:

He was real.

That was the first thought that he had when James pulled him in for a hug. Instantly he wrapped his arms around his friend and clung onto him, hands grasping onto his shirt as though he was afraid he was going to just disappear. But right now he was here and he was real. James had always been the one Sirius ran to when things got too hard. He just knew what to do and say to make it seem easier to deal with. Yet, in this situation, he doubted anyone could make it feel better. Afterall, he was mourning for a life that technically hadn’t even happened yet.

“You and me both.” He whispered and managed a laugh as he hugged James tight. Where do you even begin trying to make up for lost time when you never even thought it was a possibility that you would ever see them again? Sirius could never have prepared himself for this.

“It’s been…it’s been a really long time, prongs.” He said and finally let go of James to look at him. He needed to pull himself together. Falling apart wasn’t going to help him figure any of this out. And if this was a second chance they needed to start changing things now. But, selfishly he just wanted to spend time with James and forget everything else.

And he was also just tired.

He knew they had to fight to change everything. Save everyone. But…he had already fought. He had done it once and failed. On more than one occasion. Was it really selfish to just…rest. He felt like it was. Especially when it was his friends lives on the line. But he had been through so much that the thought of doing it again made him feel sick.

What if they couldn’t change anything?

He’d rather stay dead than have to go through Azkaban again.

“What do you remember?” He asked gently. “If you want to talk about it. If not I get it. We don’t need to talk about it just yet.”

--

How long?

He wanted to ask the question, but it caught in his throat, fear strangling him then and there. He didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to try face the idea of Sirius ever having to go on without them, couldn’t, - and while they had all made plans, and written their wills, and came to their agreements and arrangements for the possibility of one of them ever dying, none of them had anticipated a situation like this. How could they?

It was like no magic he’d ever seen. 

Clearly it was something. If Sirius was staring at him like he’d come back from the dead, which he had, and Harry was nowhere to be found, any trace of him gone from the house. The Daily Prophet had confirmed the date, and still, it was a hard pill to swallow. Without any logical reason, something had dragged them all back from the brink of death, - 

And as much as James wanted answers, for a brief moment, he just wanted his brother.

He kept a hand on Sirius’ arm, using his grasp to tug him back over to the door. The back garden was cloaked, at least, not only in trees and greenery, but in enchantments that had been cast on the house for centuries. Ways to keep muggles out, and keep the magic in. It offered them some peace of mind, knowing they could live their lives without second guessing any peeping neighbors or passers by, and James was grateful for it as they took a seat on the back step, using his wand to light up a second cigarette. He passed it to Sirius, certain it wouldn’t be refused, and lit up another for himself.

What did he remember?

“.. you know what I know,” he admitted finally, staring out at the garden, noticing the tiny details of how much time had reversed. “He knew where to find us. And he did."

His mouth twisted up, fighting a pained frown, and James stayed quiet for a beat. He let out a breath, heavy, and shaking. The reason hung in the air between them, Peter’s name bitter on his tongue. 

“Lily didn’t get away in time. I tried to give her a headstart, to get out, but I - I couldn’t. I couldn’t stop him. And we - we don’t know what happened to the baby, but, -”

He’s not here. He’s not here. He’s not here.

“.. it’s like we never had him at all, Pads. The nursery’s gone, the food, the pictures, his things. They’ve disappeared. The house is full of - fucking boxes, like we just moved in a week ago.” He shook his head as he said it, almost in disbelief. James lifted a hand to rub at his eyes, fighting back the tears. “None of it makes any sense.”

ofmollyweasley​:

Who:​​​ @jamiespxtter Where: order meeting

it didn’t matter how old molly got, her brothers knew how to piss her off. and they had a way of perfectly timing it so her anger could boil over after them leaving. this time, it was giving her oldest son a bunch of candy right before she got home only for her to come home to a sugar rushed child. then they left, sighting an order meeting, before her realizing how bad it truly was. 

if they were going to act like children, she will absolutely stoop to their level. she will go to them and absolutely destroy them. she knew it was childish, but she needed the rare occasion to let her inner child come out, especially with everything going on and what was to come.

molly probably knew too much about the order meetings than she should considering she wasn’t an official member, but she also had her brothers to protect and if it meant keeping a close eye on them, she would do it. she had grown up with fabian and gideon and she raised seven children after all. she was good at detective work (maybe she should join if only for her nosiness). 

with her children safely in bed and her mother-in-law watching them, she flooed to the order meeting and peeped her head into they room they were in, only to see harry’s face looking at her. she scanned the room for her brothers before looking back at the face she thought was harry’s. her face fell. it wasn’t harry’s. it james potter.

--

The Order meetings had been a bad decision.

A good decision, in the beginning. A great one. James knew they were fighting for a good cause, had been so willing to do his part to make things right. When he was eighteen, and Dumbledore had approached them with a request to join forces, with the belief that he had seen great things in them that could save the world, - and they had caved, fallen under his spell, toppled like a house of cards. It was hard not to, when he had been promising a better tomorrow.

The days never got better.

Now, attending the meeting made him feel suffocated. He stayed by the door just in case, all too aware of the clawing feeling that climbed up his throat and threatened to make him sick all over again, but he did his best to will it down, expression stony as he watched the group around them discuss their next steps. Half of them hadn’t even shown up.

Neither had Peter.

Very few people knew about the Order. Knew what they were doing. Those who knew were usually those who were fighting alongside them, - and still, when movement caught his attention out of the corner of his eye, the last person he expected to see standing just outside the door was Molly Weasley. For a brief moment, he had been sure he was imagining it, - though that red a hair was hard to fake.

He waited, only a moment, before taking his leave and slipping out the door, only to find Molly waiting at the end of he hallway.

“Your brothers haven’t shown up, yet,” he started softly, in explanation, a hand reaching out to pull the older woman into a hug. “What are you doing here?”

KATHERINE MCNAMARA AS CLARY FRAY IN ‘SHADOWHUNTERS’ 2X13

Send a word and I will write a drabble or headcanon based on it

Sunlight

Alone

Darkness

Streets

Cupboard

Snacks

Doubt

Joy

Peace

Moment

Rain

Hum

Kitchen

Bedroom

Family

Friend

Garden

Relax

Stress

Job

Fury

Betrayed

Absence

Vices

Pets

Absolve

Stars

Scorn 

Praise

Laundry

Papers

Smoke

Wine

Couch

Kiss

Doors

Tree

Dirt

Flowers

Collect

Remove

?+ add your own.

“You have me. Until ever last star in the galaxy dies. You have me.”

— Amie Kaufman

Marauders (click to enlarge)