The Pensieve

Fairy Tales are Real

Warning's for this fic just being flat depressing. Complete tear jerker as James goes through a beginning and end with his mother. Please be kind to yourself. If you've recently suffered the loss of a close loved one, consider this either a cathartic condolence or skippable.

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"Mommy! Something's wrong with Griff!"

Euphemia sighed, the pot was about to boil over as her son crashed into her knees and interrupted her charm now and the bread would burn if she didn't keep an eye on it. "Are you sure honey, I'm positive he's just taking a nap-"

Then she heard the sob, looked down to see her son's wild black hair buried in her skirt, wrapping it all around him like he could hide in the folds, but not quite covering the crumple of grayed feathers in his fist. "Oh dear," she gasped, clutching him up in her arms now, though he was getting too big for such a thing as she rushed into the living room to see their old bird with a bald spot and eyes still closed. "Oh James, love," she sighed as she held him tighter, the material still clutched in his hand exposing half her leg and draping across his back as he clung to her like her own wings could envelop him from all sides. Only his father's inherited mess was still visible as she pressed his face painfully hard down into her shoulder, crushing him to her chest.

"I didn't do it on purpose!" He wailed, half terrified he was in trouble. "I was just trying to wake him up and gum got stuck and now he's not moving-"

"Shh, shh love, I got you," she rubbed his back and held him like that until his raspy sobbing subsided, hurrying back to the kitchen to turn all the food off before it burned, dancing around the multiple candy wrappers he'd left out before sinking onto the couch and trying to come up with some way to handle her sons first brush with death. Fleamont was at work, and she couldn't exactly owl him to come home early now.

Whispering a sorrowful apology as she sent the snowy gray-white owl out into the garden to be buried later with a little pop, the idea didn't connect until she was cleaning her son's hand of the gummy mess when an idea came to her. His eyes were still red rimmed and he was sniffling more in confusion of the shock as she ruffled up his hair, dreading to ask how long he'd been prodding around the old bird and growing more terrified by the moment at the lack of movement. She made sure he could see her smiling as she infused as much warmth into her voice as she could. "Go get your Beedle's story honey, mommy wants to read something to you."

The task helped right away, he gave a shaky smile back and ran off to do something helpful and was back in moments, throwing himself into his mum who let out an exaggerated 'oof' as if he hadn't done this a million times and smiling as he began ruffling through for his favorite. The Tale of Three Brothers had spooked him plenty, but he'd usually tuned out or fallen asleep by the time they got to the second brother, he just loved the idea of that powerful wand and his dad's silly theories that was their very own cloak in the story. She didn't want to ruin that for him now, instead Euphemia caught his fingers and said, "let's hear a different one now, it's about Griff honey."

The silver in her sleek brown hair was trailing loose from its bun, she fussily tucked it aside before leaning over him. She let it stay in his lap as she flipped to Babbity Rabbity and her Cackling Stump. "A long time ago, in a far-off land, there lived a foolish king who decided that he alone should have the power of magic..." He followed along her finger and interrupted every few sentences to laugh like always as his mum did the funny voices for all the characters! He went very still though when they got to the part that had come to mind, her voice turning into just a soft whisper when the witch could not bring back the king's guard dog.

James stayed quiet the rest of the story even as his mum continued in the same way, watching the perch where the family owl would never be again and waited until she was done to whisper, "I thought magic could fix anything." His dad's glasses, poof, the shards always went right back together. His toys he threw too hard down the stairs, the dents always came right out. Even some of mummy's vegetables in her garden could spring back up and turn the right color she wanted with enough potions and the right wave of her wand.

"Not everything James," she sighed as she threaded her nails against his scalp. They'd needed magical assistance to even have their lovely son at their age.

"Oh," was his sad little whisper.

...

"Hey mum," James's voice broke, but he kept the watery cheerfulness up as her strained eyes barely fluttered open and she gave him a tired smile while he squeezed her hand. They'd relit the candles so the smell of earthly garden was even stronger now, it gave just a last dash of color in her cheeks she'd been missing on the crisp white blankets and pillows. "Heard about, about dad, sorry I-"

"Shh," her voice was quieter every time he came, it couldn't even be a whisper now as she brushed her thumb across his. "Lily had a scare, you're going to be a daddy soon. She needed you. Sirius was here."

"Right, yeah, saw him in the hall." Stop, steady out that breath before you kick off or keep going. "He always was dad's favorite." One last tease.

She didn't even have the energy anymore to swat him on the nose as she smiled again. He took the effort to clear his throat and make sure she heard the smile still in his voice, her hazel eyes were already closing again. "I um, brought something back. Like me to read you a story mum? Got it for, for the baby, but, I've never read to anyone before. You, ah, taught me all the important stuff, thought you might, like it."

She laughed just like she always did through every rotten letter he got from school and teaching him how to dance with a lady. How to do his letters and wand safety, she laughed at everything her only child did. Her hand squeezed his again, the softest yet. "I'd love that."

He cleared his throat several times before he cracked open the fresh spine of an old book. "A long time ago, in a far-off land, there lived a foolish king who decided that he alone should have the power of magic..."