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Fennel


James knew there was something wrong when he walked through the door and Sirius wasn’t there waiting for him. Every day that week, when he’d come home from St. Mungo’s, Sirius had greeted him at the door in true fashion to his inner dog. James stood in the frame of the door, absently pushing it closed behind him. “Sirius?” he called.

It was raining outside, so James shrugged off the rain jacket he’d been wearing and hung it up. Still no Sirius… and the lights were all off.

James already felt horrible, the idea of having to deal with Sirius throwing a tantrum over James pushing him away the night before was really not something James wanted to have to go through... It had been a long day. They’d had to scrape scales from Charlus’s arms and face three times in the last nine hours and Charlus had actually cried in front of James from the pain of it. He’d never seen his dad cry before. Not really cry. Not like Charlus had done while they were scraping those scales. It had made James feel so very, very small in a way that he couldn’t explain.

“C’mon Sirius, mate, I can’t deal with this tonight…” he muttered.

He climbed up the stairs, heavy, and feeling a little annoyed. Selfish mutt, he thought -- he was probably hiding away in his room being dramatic and stupid about it and Sirius was probably going to complain how terrible James had treated him. He could almost hear the words. I know you’re going through hell but, fuck, Prongs, you don’t need to treat me like shit! And Sirius would be right - he didn’t have to treat Sirius like shit, but damn it, James couldn’t even fall apart over something like this? Something like his dad dying and --

He stopped in the hallway, losing his breath a moment. He pressed his palm to the wall and shivered.

He’d thought the words so smoothly.

His dad was dying.

James felt dizzy.

He looked at the door to his parents’ bedroom, thought about all the times he’d crawled in bed between them when he’d had nightmares or when there’d been thunderstorms that had rocked the house… That small feeling filled him up again, that same small feeling he’d had when Charlus had started sobbing, begging the healers not to scrape his skin anymore…

James clutched his arms about himself.

“Sirius,” he called again, more broken this time because he really needed his friend to just understand that he was sorry for pushing him away but none of this made sense. Charlus Potter was a constant, a beacon of strength, a pillar that James had always leaned on and now -- now he’d seen his father cry. Now the pillar was breaking apart and James had nothing holding him up. “Sirius, please, I’m sorry for last night… I’m just… I’m falling apart, I’m so scared of what comes next, I dunno how to do this… I dunno how to handle what I feel and --” he was yelling the words as he walked down the hall to Sirius’s bedroom - the door was open ajar - and he pushed it in and waved his wand to turn on the lights… and… and it was empty.

Sirius wasn’t there.

James stared about the room.

There was something very ominous about it.

He looked about for a note, there was nothing, no indication of where Sirius had gone. But his stuff was still there - the stereo, the tapes, his clothes, his rucksack… Sirius couldn’t be far. James turned and ran back down the stairs, afraid something had happened… The Fidelus was still on the house, nobody could’ve come and taken him…

James was shrugging the wet rain jacket back on when the door opened and Sirius stumbled in. He was wearing his jeans with all the safety pins all over them, but no shirt. His torso was pale and dripping with water and his hair hung in thick, soaking strands, running rivers over his skin as he practically fell into the room. Sirius was clutching a bag from the market that was nearly as soaked as he was and his eyes were wide in a funny sort of way.

“Fuck, fuck, you’ve beaten me back, my darling harem…” Sirius drawled and he reached up and slapped his palm across James’s cheek and dragged it over his jaw as Sirius walked past. He wasn’t even wearing his boots. He was barefoot.

“Sirius?” James looked at him, confused, “Where are your shoes? Or, hell, your shirt, for that matter?”

Sirius was past him, already several steps down the hall, his feet leaving wet prints on the floor. James followed after, his rain jacket dripping to add to the water. He drew his wand and waved it at the floor to dry it as he stepped into the kitchen behind Sirius, who was dumping the market bag onto the table. Several odd items fell out - a fennel, for one, and two boxes of instant hot chocolate mix, a jar of peanut butter, and two bags of some sort of muggle candy that were like colourful little circles labelled Smarties. Sirius threw the soaked bag onto the floor and he fell into the seat where Dora usually sat and he said, “James, it’s pouring outside.”

“Yes it is. Where are your shoes?”

Sirius said, “The earth is spinning, James.”

“Yeah it usually is. Haven’t got a memo otherwise…” There was obviously something wrong. Very wrong. “You been drinking?” James asked.

“I HAD BEER, JAMES. ONE BEER!” Sirius cried, as though he’d been accused of something, as though James had been accusing him of it excessively, as though this was a confession. “Merlin’s left tit, can’t a man have a fucking drink?”

“Sorry,” James found himself saying.

Sirius got up and he grabbed the fennel off the table. “What the fuck is this thing?” he asked.

“A fennel,” James replied.

“It’s fucking stupid looking.”

“What’d you buy it for if you didn’t know what it was?”

“Did I?” Sirius put it down on the counter. “James. We should fly. Let’s go flying. Where’s your broomstick?”

“Hold up.” James grabbed Sirius by the wrist as he tried to turn away. “Wait. No flying. What’s going on with you? Where are your clothes?”

“I’m wearing them, obviously, this would be very awkward if I was naked.”

“Well you’re halfway there, mate.” James looked him over.

Sirius looked down. “Well shit.”

“Where are your clothes?”

Sirius laughed, “I must’ve -- when I left -- well.”

“Sirius?”

“I fucked Ace Dante, mate.”

James stared at Sirius.

“I’m really dizzy.”

“Sit,” James commanded him, pulling out a chair.

Sirius laughed uproariously. “IT’S FUNNY - IT’S FUNNY - BECAUSE I’M A FUCKING DOG.”

“Sirius.” James pushed him into the chair and knelt so he was looking up at Sirius’s face, concerned as hell. “Did you have the beer with Ace Dante?”

“YES.” Sirius said, then, “Where the fuck else? I can’t very well buy beer, can I? I’m sixteen -- mother of Merlin.”

“Never stopped you in Hogsmeade.”

“Because I’m a thief,” whispered Sirius. “I’m a fucking no good dirty rotten thief. And I’m a bastard. You know being a bastard means you have no father?”

“Sirius --”

“I’m a bastard,” whispered Sirius, conspiratorially. “You’re gonna be a bastard too soon…”

The words stung, but James pushed them away as much as he could… Sirius isn’t thinking straight, something’s wrong, he’d never say that otherwise, he told himself. And James clicked his fingers in front of Sirius’s face and Sirius looked startled at him.

Sirius stared at James for a long moment. “Have you always had purple eyes?”

“What?”

“Your eyes are… purple… and green… and… they’re… they’re… like… like mud…”

“How much beer did you have?”

“Only the one.” Sirius held his index finger up and pressed it against James’s nose. “WwwwwwwhhhHhhhh--unnnnnnnnn,” he said, drawing out the word into two syllables.

“No way did one beer mess you up.”

“I don’t think it was the beer, James, I think it was the sunshine,” Sirius said. He stuck out his tongue and pointed at his tongue. There was nothing there.

James raised his eyebrow, “What’re you on about?”

Sirius grabbed James’s shirt. “Ace fucked me, James.”

James made a face. “Before or after you... had... whatever sunshine is?”

“Afffffter,” Sirius murmured. “James. He touched my leg and it was hot but then he kissed me and I - I wanted Remus. I want Remus. Where’s Remus? Where’s Remus at, James?”

“You’re making no sense.”

“The floor is moving. Do you see it. Look at it.”

“Sirius.”

“Everything is moving and I’m still and I’m going mad. I’m going mad. The fennel was the last straw, James.”

“Sirius, you need to not go to Ace’s house again.”

Sirius stared at James, “But… but he’s my new boyfriend.”

James shook his head, “No he isn’t. He’s done something to you and it’s not alright. It makes me pissed off what he’s done to you. And I have a right mind to do over there and hex him right now for it.”

Sirius stared at James, then whispered, “James. The floor is moving.”

“It isn’t.”

“I want -- I want my Moony.” And Sirius started crying.

James said, “He’s in Iceland, mate.”

“Why doesn’t Moony love me anymore?” Sirius rolled off the chair, tripped and hit the floor on his knee. He pushed himself back up - James tugging his shoulder - and Sirius stumbled back to the counter and grabbed the fennel. “I got him a fennel, James, and he still doesn’t love me.”

James took the fennel and put it down on the counter. “Sirius…”

“I BOUGHT A FUCKING FENNEL, JAMES! A FENNEL IS FOREVER!”