The dormitory had a mournful silence and he didn't bother to interrupt it, a bubbling of grief in his own gut. He looked around. The house-elves hadn't had a chance to clean before the grave news had arrived.

The entire house had heard by now, Sirius was sure. He'd been on the Quidditch pitch most of the day, practising on his own and had heard from a third year Hufflepuff who'd had the guts to talk to him. He would had rewarded their bravery with a snarl if the news hadn't been so horrible.

Now his main priority wasn't impressing the girls on the first match on Saturday or exploiting his power as a Seventh year. In the past few moments everything had changed. His importance had shifted back to that of a mere first year and he had every intention of taking care of his own.

He walked over to the curtains and opened them with care that was reserved for only two people, one of which was lying on the bed in front of him. He was still dressed in his school uniform and Sirius touched his shoulder. He was awake but didn't respond. He went around and knelt down in front of him. James didn't move still and Sirius caressed his cheek, removing his glasses, placing them on the table next to him carefully.

His face looked bare without them, almost naked, and his eyes almost unnaturally wide and unfocused, a beautiful hazel brown. Sirius' thumb wiped away the solitary tear that had fallen down his cheek. James finally looked at him. Sirius, though barely a blur without the frames, was watching him worriedly.

“They're gone.” He told him hoarsely

“I know.” Sirius responded softly. James finally allowed more tears to fall. Sirius lifted him and climbed onto the bed, holding him in his arms and against his body. James buried his head in his strong chest and his thin body shook with sobs. Sirius rubbed his back and let him.

He finally looked up, unaware of how much time had passed and finding himself unable to care. Sirius looked back at him with sad eyes. He couldn't find the words to say. Sirius just held him still.

“It's going to be okay Prongs.” He ran a hand through James' hair and the parentless young man closed his eyes and leant against his friend. He trusted him. There was no more need for words.