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CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
a wind's symphony
THE STUDENTS OF Hogwarts were thankful that winter holidays approached so quickly for more than one reason that year. It was late at night, when the students were supposed to be deep in slumber, and when four students came alive for the first time all day. However, after a very successful prank and three of the four went to retire, leaving the brightest star to linger in the sky — melancholy, alone, like he'd always been — staring at his brothers and sisters at the top of the Astronomy tower — his eyes never truly leaving the Leo constellation for more than a few moments.
"Fuck." was only a whisper heard in the dead of night as the cigarette smoke left his lips, dreary from its journey so far and carried with the sharp wind and the sporadic snow. The tip of his nose glowed red as the end of his cigarette flaring ever so often with each drag. Euphemia had told him to quit and he really wanted to, but sometimes he had to remember that he wasn't a Potter, not by blood and not by upbringing. However, he'd wasted enough expletives on that reality, so he didn't bother to curse that fact, rather something different.
A voice cut through the air, making the white cigarette tumble and snuff out in one great puff. "We'll be there for him this year, mate."
"Prongs!" Sirius barked as he turned his head around to see the familiar be-speckled boy. "Fucking kill me before we get the chance."
"Then I would've done the world a service." Sirius could feel the smile on James's face as he sat down next to him. Sirius looked at though he should have hypothermia, but the heat coming off of him told James a rather short tale of casting a warming spell. James, however, opted for the muggle alternative. Pulling his wool coat tighter around his body, his new black leather gloves stretching as he did. Two noses pink and four eyes shining as they faced the infinite night sky.
"Shut up," Sirius mumbled, mirthlessly, "out of all days . . . "
"They're not even Christian," James reasoned with a weak smile as he turned towards Sirius.
"Yeah, but Hope liked to celebrate Christmas — the joy and all of it, you remember — and it's their first one without her," Sirius whispered as tears crowded his eyes, making the stars somehow seem brighter.
"Well . . . then . . . we can just do Christmas another day," James offered, "Christmas isn't about the day, it's about the feeling, the people."
