Chapter 601 - Reconciliations

After having the conversation with Rowan Prince, it took James more than a week before finally gaining the determination and sincerity required to apologize to Peter-. It was not that he did not know how to apologize, but rather he had not had much practice until he married Lily.

Wincing internally at the mere mention of his Lily, James painfully shoves her image out of his mind for the time being. Her presence would not be very conducive for the time being. And whether he wished to admit it to himself or not, he deeply missed his friends.

Ever since his outburst in the Gryffindor common room, James had been sitting mostly alone during mealtimes except for when Remus would take pity on him as a Prefect and sit with him. But even Remus was standing vehemently on Sirius's side and was not going to back down.

Which was a rather startling realization, because, with a sickly feeling, James had realized that Remus had never done so until the incident in the Shrieking Shack with Snape-. That had not been one of Sirius's finer moments, and both he and Remus had been absolutely furious with Sirius.

Still, in the end, James had forgiven Sirius, and so had Remus. But now he felt a painful stab at thinking that Remus could have only forgiven Sirius because he was afraid of being alone, and abandoned by his so-called friends? And if Remus had not forgiven Sirius would he have remained friends with Remus?

It was an absurd idea that he had never paused to consider before, and which left him with a haunting bitterness in his mouth. His cynicism only grew as James tried to recall if he had ever sided with Remus against Sirius over anything? But with great shame and bitterness, he realized that he never would have thought to do so even in a million years. In retrospect that did not paint him in a particularly good light nor as a very good friend. And worst of all, it had forced him to view and reflect on his friendship with Peter Pettigrew in a new light.

It was not something that James had intended to do, but in the end, that was the unexpected result of his soul reflecting. The more and more he recalled his memories of the past, the sicklier and ill he had felt. In every memory, Peter Pettigrew had always been pushed to the side or even teased. It was supposed to be funny, and yet, he would have never teased Sirius or Remus in that manner. Just when had he stopped viewing Peter Pettigrew as a friend? And was it those very same actions that had pushed Peter Pettigrew to the edge?

Wincing in pain, James blinks out of his thoughts and glances down at his clenched hands which had dug tiny red crescent moons into his palms. The reddened wounds smarted but had not quite broken through the skin. Forcibly unclenching his fists, he lets out a sigh, before raising a hand to rub his forehead.

Glancing around James stares at the empty shared dorm room. The Gryffindor's dorms looked much like they did in his memory. There were four poster-beds covered in red eiderdowns with red curtains. There is a nightstand next to the bed with their school trunks residing at the foot of their beds. To the side of their beds is a wooden chair and dresser with a lamp placed on the dresser. And hanging overhead their beds is a yellow banner that reads, "Gryffindor."

On the wooden boards next to their bed are posters of famous Quidditch Players. One of them is that of Ludovic Bagman, the English Beater that had played at the Quidditch World Cup. Apparently, Bagman was a hero of sorts for Sirius since Sirius was a beater.

The tiny Quidditch players on the enchanted poster zoom about, while the rosy-cheeked, athletic beater, Ludo Bagman tosses his golden hair and winks charmingly with his baby blue eyes at James, before zooming away on his broom.

James rolls his eyes and glances out of the dorm window that has red curtains pulled to the side. Down below the Hogwarts's grounds grow darker and as the shadows grow longer. It was almost dinner time, and he would have to sit alone again.

Not wanting to sit alone again, James decides to head down to the kitchens to eat. He did not want to face his former friends until he had more than ample time to voice his thoughts. Not waiting until it grew later, he headed down the stairs and past the common room. None of the Gryffindor's pay him attention and those that do merely raise their heads for a moment, before returning to finish their loads of homework in a preview of their O.W.L.'s that year.

With practiced ease, James makes his way down to the kitchens without being noticed. He would have taken his cloak, but in the day, it was too risky to use. Though that had never stopped him in his youth.

Shaking away memories of the past, James hurries down the grand staircase into the dungeons, before heading down another passageway. The broad stone corridor is brightly lit with torches and decorated with cheerful paintings that are mainly of food. A trace of a smile appears on his face as he subconsciously recalls all the times the Marauder's snuck down to the kitchens for a late-night snack. But his grin quickly falters as he halts midway unable to breathe at the startling pain of loss. They were all gone, gone.

Clenching his eyes tightly shut, James struggles to breathe and regain control of his facilities. He had begun to have these wheezing attacks ever since last Sunday. It was as though his emotions had grown dark and heavy, suffocating. And all the light in the world had vanished leaving him alone to stumble in the darkness.

Gasping loudly for some minutes, James finally manages to coax his shut eyes to open and unclench his frozen stiff limbs. Glancing down, he sees that his nails had dug so painfully into his palms that there were tiny, red, but bruised crescent marks. He lets out a soft pained grunt as he moves his stiff fingers, and lets out a wry, half-despaired laugh.

Perhaps, he was simply going mad, but the utter irony of that statement is that he more than welcomed such madness. It would make more sense than his current seemingly impossible situation. And despite being grateful that he was alive, it would have been better that he remained dead at least he would have been with his Lily.