Colours and Feelings

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Colours and Feelings



James was sitting on the edge of his bed when Ned Veigler gently pushed open the door. James was staring down at his toes and muttering to himself in a low voice - "Don't be selfish, you can't expect him to sit about weeping for Moony when he has a chance like this. You're fine. You're not depressed like he was, he needs Remus and you're fine alone if you need to be. And nothing's going to happen anyway, James. Bloody hell, of course not, he's dad, he's going to be alright! Don't be an idiot. Don't be selfish... You march down there and tell Sirius you're happy for him and Moony. Go on. Do it, you great prat." But he couldn't... He sat exactly where he was, his lip trembling and he whispered, "Maybe just a minute more of being selfish. But then you go and you tell him... Alright." His throat felt like a great lump.

Ned cleared his throat, not wanting to startle James coming in the door behind him, and James turned about in surprise and stared at Ned for a moment. He stood up and he said, in a falsely chipper voice, which cracked along the edges a wee bit, "I was just - coming to get my trainers... so very happy -- Sirius and Remus... I mean..." He paused. Ned was just staring at him with these sympathetic eyes and James sighed.

"What's going on, James?" Ned Veigler asked gently and he walked over and pulled James's desk chair out and sat in it backwards, his beard hanging over the back of the chair as he watched James standing there looking confronted.

James shook his head.

"Don't want to talk of it?" Ned asked, "That's alright. I understand. Merlin knows I understand the idea of running away from bits of your life you don't much like," he added.

James murmured, "It's not that."

"No?" Ned tilted his head slightly.

James ran a hand through his hair, "I really am happy for Sirius and Remus, I wasn't just saying that. Really."

"Of course."

"They're my best mates," James said. "I'd... literally do anything for them." He thought of the time turner.

So did Ned Veigler.

Ned sat upright and rested his chin on the back of the chair, watching James.

James sighed and sat on the end of the bed. "My dad's sick," his voice was heavy. He paused then, "Dying, really. He's in the hospital. Dragon pox. The scales are growing so fast they have to scrape them nearly three times a day and I don't know what to do, he's my dad, he's - he's my hero - he's... --" James paused and shook his head, sweeping his hands over his damp eyes. "Listen to me. Selfish again. I mean, perhaps dying's a mercy to him at this point, I dunno."

"It isn't selfish to want him to get better, James," Ned said gently, "Nor to wish for your friends to be there for you."

"There's nothing they can do anyway. Sirius might as well be in Iceland as here. It doesn't really make a difference, does it? It's not as though Dad will be healed because Sirius is sleeping across the hall from me."

Ned said, "No, but you'll have someone to talk with about it."

James shook his head, "I can't talk about it with Sirius."

"Why?"

"Sirius has been depressed... And my Dad's basically his Dad. He gets as worked up as I do. It's just Sirius's way of dealing with things is to push it away until it floods him, so he'll ignore the fact that Dad's sick until one day it'll whomp him upside the head and he'll spin out and I'll have to bloody pick up the pieces and put him back together again. Me and Moony. Just like we always do. He's bleedin' Humpty Dumpty and we're the king's men, and --" James shook his head, "I can't talk to Sirius. I'm the strong one. I'm the one Sirius talks to about things like that."

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