the pact (pt. 1)
what if james had been the only one to die on October 31st? what if Lily did as he said and took harry and ran?
sirius attempts to reconcile with the weight of raising james's kid(s) and the weight of doing this life without his best friend.
(a belated sad-sirius sunday series; similar to fault lines, mercy, and the best worst thing to have ever happened, will be told in installments, only for tumblr.)
about 2k.
They made a pact.
At seventeen when they went to the seaside Sirius’s second summer at the Potters, the two of them sneaking off to the rocks on the side of the shore. Barefoot and balancing on sharp edges of stone, laughing and nudging one another to see if the other would fall, until they were able to sit on a flat one together.
“Mum’s going to kill us…” James said, though his tone wasn’t particularly worried, even as the bottom of his foot was bleeding. Sirius dabbed at it with the sweatshirt he had thrown around his shoulders, prepared to make a makeshift bandage if he had to.
“Which one of us first?” he asked, grinning.
“Probably me.”
“So I’ll have to survive a whole 5 minutes without you? That’s not on.”
“And you think its okay for me? No way.”
“She’ll have to kill us both at the same time then. Is that possible?”
“You’re the one with the creepy family, shouldn’t you know?”
“I wasn’t exactly invited to their creepy meetings, nor was that conversation over the dinner table.”
“I think it would’ve been acceptable though,” James teased, and Sirius rolled his eyes.
“Father, is it possible to produce a killing curse so powerful it kills two people at once?” Sirius mocked, pretending he was sitting at his parents’ dinner table, adopting a posher accent than usual, consonants all clipped and neatly organized.
James snorted, “I don’t think Mum would do that…Probably hang us out upside down by our ankles…”
“That’s a slow death. Cruel. And in that scenario, you’d die first too because of your fat head.”
“Oi!” James reached over to nudge him, and Sirius laughed, stopping his ministrations on James’s foot that had finally started to clot. He put the sweatshirt down and looked out at the sea, light reflecting off the water. “You’ll probably go first though, won’t you? With all that smoking…”
“This is morbid, babe.”
“And we all know I’m pants at healing spells…I’ll step on something in the woods, and it’ll get infected and I’m a goner…”
Sirius rolled his eyes turning his attention back to his best friend, the talk of death and dying suddenly dampening a cheery disposition. No longer joking because James, like Sirius, had been reading the papers in the morning. James, like Sirius, had been eaves dropping on conversations had by his parents and Slytherins around school. Everything was changing.
Sirius put his hand on the side of James face, “Hey, idiot. We’ll…make a pact.”
“Yeah?”
“We die at the same time. That’s just how it’ll work.”
“Mum will actually kill us if we make an unbreakable vow, Sirius,”
“A metaphorical pact,” Sirius clarified, “You know, I’ve read in…some weird healing texts that sometimes people die of broken hearts…like sometimes with older wizards? One goes, the other follows after….I think we’ll be like that.”
“If I die first your heart will break? That’s almost sentimental, Pads,” James teased, with a smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes.
“You worry so much…”
“You think it’ll work like that? You and me?”
“Yeah. Merlin knows I wouldn’t make it a day without you. Who else am I going to talk to about my day?”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
“Promise.”
But like all other promises made at sixteen (like the one made at 3am that stipulated James would never wear dress robes again, and the one made not three minutes later that Sirius would never fall in love) this one was broken too. Because Sirius was very much alive when he arrived to Godric’s Hollow. The safe house now in cmplete shambles, Sirius tiptoeing around fallen concreate and ruptured floorboards the same way he had balanced on the rocks of the sore. He had boots on this time though.
And he was too late to save James.
Sirius knew what to do when there was blood and bruises.
He could manage tears and sweat and dehydration.
But James, his perpetually moving, best friend lying still and lifeless in what once was a sitting room…Sirius had no idea what to do with.
Lily and Harry where nowhere to be found. Sirius had frantically gone through the rubble after noticing the crib was empty and the wall that Sirius had painted a fantasy mural on had been torn down, only to find nothing. Heart racing for no reason, because the worst had happened.
Sirius couldn’t decide if it would’ve been better to arrive to the scene after the patronus came and find Harry screaming in his crib with Lily on the floor, or to have all three of them lying still in front of him. But as it was, it was just his James, in the ruins, and if there was a chance that somehow the curse didn’t work, Sirius wasn’t going to let James wake up from his deep, deep, deep, sleep alone. He made his way carefully to the sitting room, and sat down on the floor, pulling James’s dead weight over to him so his head could rest in his lap.
Like James liked to do when he got hurt from a Quidditch game.
Or when James had finally fallen apart over the reality of the war and cried in Sirius’s lap out of earshot of Lily.
Sirius sat, and stroked his hair, tears streaming down his face. Wasn’t there a muggle fairytale like that? Some Brothers or Some Other where Tears were Magic. Or was it a kiss? Sirius leaned forward and kissed James on top of the forehead, just in case.
Nothing.
“Fuck you…” Sirius muttered, “I was supposed to go first…”
--
Sirius laid there, taking James’s head out of his lap and choosing to lie next to him instead, staring catatonic at open hazel eyes and glasses that were askew. No charms. Wand, merlin knows where; if someone found him, they could kill him. If someone returned to Godric’s Hollow, maybe they would step over Sirius’s body as well, or else take him to Azkaban because he was the secret keeper. Dementors could suck out his soul, and Sirius wouldn’t have a single memory of thought of James for the rest of his existence—that could be quite nice.
“Sirius?”
Maybe if he didn’t move, no one would know.
“Sirius...Siri—baby…” Remus came into Sirius’s eyeline on the opposite side of James. It wasn’t the preferred order. See, Sirius liked being in the middle. At meals in the Great Hall, during sleepovers in the dormitory, at the end of the aisle where Sirius stood as Best Man. James was in the middle now and Remus was trying to reach across a body to get to Sirius.
“He’s dead.”
“Have you been here all night?”
“I dunno.”
“Let’s get you—”
“No.”
“Sirius, it’s not safe—”
“I’m not leaving.”
“Sirius, you have to. Lily and Harry are—”
“Dead?”
“Safe. They’re at Number 12, with the Order. James went to fend Voldemort off, and Lily took Harry and ran. Peter—”
“Fucking rat.”
“Yes, I know, I’m sorry, but they’re safe and we have to go. I came to look for you, everyone thought you were going to hunt Peter down and—”
“I don’t want to go anywhere. I’ll stay here.”
“Baby, look at me,” Remus said calmly, though there was a wavering to his voice giving away tell tale signs of nerves. It wasn’t safe here, Remus was risking everything to go find Sirius, to be out in the open like this. Sirius lifted his eyes up away from James’s face to look at his boyfriend. Eyes bloodshot and dark circles deeper in morning light. “We need to go. Someone else will come here, they’ll make sure that James gets a proper burial—”
“He wanted to be next to his parents. That was the plan. We talked about it.”
“Okay,” Remus nodded, “We’ll make sure, but you are not going to be any use to that kid of his if you say here. Both his kids.”
“What?”
“Lily’s pregnant, that’s….that’s why she left. They were waiting to tell us until…I dunno. Some time when it felt better.”
Sirius closed his eyes and took a breath.
This wasn’t the plan.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
Sirius wasn’t supposed to be doing this life without James, and James was supposed to be the one with the stupid big family and Sirius was supposed to be the one who folded their laundry and squandered his inheritance. Sirius was named Godfather and up until that moment hadn’t planned on taking the title seriously (unless it meant seriously spoiling every Potter that emerged with gifts and affection). He kissed James on the cheek quickly, whispering an apology into messy curly hair before standing up, body aching from having been lying on rough terrain the entire night, lost and vacant.
“Alright,” Sirius nodded, watching as Remus stretched out his hand for the first time in months. Olive branches. White flags.
Everything else seemed so petty now.
“See you later, Prongs…I have another pact to make good on.”
I need you to promise me that you’ll make sure my kid is okay. That Lily is okay. Give them a good life, make sure Harry knows how to cook and...remembers his grandparents, okay? Do the morning shift so Lily can sleep and she’ll take the afternoon and…you’ll love them, right? I know you will…I just…need to hear you promise.
Promise.
part two
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