See The Rainbows In My Eyes

The Truth

Saturday 27th March 1976

The sliver of a waning crescent moon hung low in the sky and a breeze from their open window carried earthy, fresh rain. Before anyone else could wake up, Sirius snuck out of his bed, treaded quietly across their room, and opened James' curtains just enough for his body to slip inside.

His friend was pass-out, mouth gaped, hair spanning all over his forehead and pillow. Indentations from his glasses still marked little red bruises on the bridge of his nose. Sirius nudged his side and James jolted awake, eyes wide and rounded as if he'd seen a ghost.

"Bloody hell," he gasped, startled and delirious, resting a hand on his chest to stop his heart from beating so rapidly. "Is...Is something- fuck you scared the shit out of me..."

Sirius bowed his head apologetically, realizing how frightening he must look, trapped in a shadow. "Sorry, mate."

"No worries, you alright?" he asked, sitting up on his elbows.  

Without a second thought, Sirius attacked the boy in a hug, wrapping his arms around his neck and clinging to him tightly. James' body was as warm as a furnace, exactly how he pictured love to feel.

"Happy birthday Prongs," Sirius whispered, eyes starting to sting. Emotions snuck up on him like a slap at the back of his head, unexpected and unavoidable.

James sat there stunned for a moment, elbows still propping himself up, but he snapped to his senses and hugged Sirius back. "Couldn't have waited for the morning to tell me you git?"

He pulled away, swallowing his sentiment. "I wanted to be the first to tell you."

"Blimey, well, guess you are."

Sirius wished he could say more, ramble about how thankful he was, how much James meant to him. But he couldn't, all sappy words felt odd on his tongue. 

Friendship isn't about who you've known the longest but about who walked into your life, said "I'm here for you," and proved it.

James did that in every way, shape, and form. That boy had saved him, dragged him out of his deepest holes, showed him that regular beatings and being yelled at wasn't love but abuse.

He understood Sirius the most when the world didn't understand him at all.

When his mother sent Howlers, James burned them to a crisp; when Sirius broke down, James listened; when he was too tired to talk, to even move, James would be there, speaking utter nonsense. But it was comfortable nonsense like: "I wonder what muggles study in uni?" or "Ever notice how you can't lick your elbow?"

Sirius never thought he was deserving of love and then here came this boy with so much warmth and life it practically leaked out of him like an over-soaked sponge.

James was his first taste of sunlight after years of drinking darkness. He was a soul too pure for this world who chose to be friends with a minted, beat-up bloke.

Why? Sirius still didn't know. He was an actual mess, moody at times, raised by prejudices, had unhealthy habits of smoking and shutting down. In Sirius' opinion, he'd never be friends with himself, but James saw every imperfection and accepted them.

He was his brother. It didn't matter that they weren't related by blood.

Instead of stressing over saying all the wrong words, Sirius hugged him again, and James knew all the things he was trying to say.

***

Euphemia sent a whole banquet that morning; pumpkin pasties, blueberry pie, cucumber sandwiches, hot chocolate in a thermos. She failed to remember that they lived in a castle supplied with its own cooking staff who provided tremendous amounts of freshly baked treats. But James knew how happy it made his mother to spoil his arse, so he complained nothing on the matter.