I'm sorry for my lack of updates on everything, but good news! Winter break has begun, so you'll be seeing more of my writing. Read and review!
Also, sorry if characters are OOC, but James's suicide was hard to write, so some characters may have been altered for the sake of the story.
Disclaimer: I own nada, but I will gladly buy it from JK Rowling.
Brother. Friend. Prankster. Son. Student. He was all of these things. Why had no one noticed?
Lily was sobbing in the corner, whispering why to the ground like maybe it could supply her with an answer.
Professor McGonagall was dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief while Dumbledore took shuddering breaths as if the truth had not yet sunk in.
James's father was weeping in the back, his back trembling as he took in deep breaths.
Remus and Peter were crying by the casket, but Sirius kept his distance.
James was his brother, his friend. Why hadn't he been there? He was the only one that knew because he'd been there as well.
"James Harold Potter, you better put that seat belt on before I come back there and do it for you," Ms. Potter scolded.
James smiled, cheekily, before he did as he was told. "Come on, Mum, you are the most careful driver of all time. We're not gonna crash."
"You never know," she stated.
Sirius and James turned to each other and rolled their eyes at Ms. Potter's overprotective behavior.
"Mom?" James asked when he turned back.
"MOM!" James pointed to the upcoming stop sign and the car about to speed through it. She'd been so busy scolding her kids that she hadn't noticed it!
Ms. Potter slammed on the brakes, but it was too late. They rolled through the stop sign and the car crashed into the other.
The next thing Sirius knew, he was sprawled several feet away from the car with his leg on fire and his vision blurry.
"James!" He gurgled, spitting some blood out of his mouth.
"Sirius!" Another voice called and he heard someone rummaging through the rubble. "Keep talking! I've gotta find you!"
Sirius didn't think he could; his vision was rapidly becoming dark.
"I'm... over... here," he muttered weakly.
"Padfoot!" And then, James was there by his side as Sirius slowly lost consciousness.
The last thing he heard was an explosion and James screaming, "MOM!"
In a way, Sirius was lucky. He'd escaped with a broken leg and a moderate concussion, but Ms. Potter had died in that explosion and James would have to live with that memory for the rest of his life. Or at least he was going to.
Sirius could somewhat understand why James had killed himself. After all, he'd witnessed his mother die a painful death, and his dad had kind of gone off the deep end after Ms. Potter's death.
"This is all your fault!" Mr. Potter yelled.
Sirius flinched. The anger wasn't even directed at him, but it reminded him so much of Grimmauld Place.
"Go to your room! I-I don't want to see your ugly face for the rest of the night!"
Mr. Potter hadn't meant it; he'd been grieving and he'd taken it out on James. It was only a matter of time before he realized it.
James sprinted up the stairs, Sirius right behind him, while Mr. Potter put his head in his hands and sobbed.
Sirius found James breaking down on his bed, slamming his fists into the mattress and his legs, surely bruising himself.
Sirius caught James's hands and held them there in his friend's lap while James blinked at him with teary eyes.
"James, your dad is just grieving," Sirius told him. "This is not your fault."
James stayed silent for a moment before he whispered, "But I distracted her."
Sirius nodded. "We both did, but that doesn't mean this is our fault. After all, your mom wouldn't want us to blame ourselves, would she?"
James shook his head.
"Exactly, so don't."
The next morning, Mr. Potter apologized for what he'd said, but deep sown, Sirius knew that the damage had been done.
And now, look where he was: in a casket with his eyes shut and his chest still.
Sirius choked back a sob. Why didn't he help him?
Remus had been frightened when James and Sirius returned to Hogwarts that year.
Sirius had been limping, and he had extreme trouble staying focused. James looked like a zombie with red rimmed eyes and pale skin and sunken in cheeks; he looked like death warmed up.
James had stopped eating and had quit the Quidditch team, both of which were odd. He hadn't flirted with Lily Evans in months, which she had noticed as well. What was going on?
Remus had tried to ask Sirius, but Sirius hadn't said a word, although he hadn't said that he didn't know what was going on.
Within one summer, James had gone from fun loving and carefree to the walking dead and then, he... died.
What on earth has gone wrong with James Potter?
Peter wasn't sure how to react. He didn't particularly like James, what with him always leaving Peter out, but he hadn't wanted him dead. They were friends... brothers.
The worst part was that Peter knew what had happened. His older sister lived up the road from where Ms. Potter had crashed her car, and she'd seen James at the scene with an unconscious Sirius and the boy's mother in pieces all over the street. She told him it'd been horrible, and he knew it had.
Why hadn't he helped James? He'd known! Why hadn't he told Remus or a professor or someone? After all, no one could come out of something like that unscathed. He should have known!
A sudden sob made him look up at Sirius, hidden in that shadows near the casket, and that's when it hit him. Sirius had been there, too. He'd seen Ms. Potter die, and then, he'd walked into the bathroom to take a shower and found his friend dead a month later.
Peter couldn't even imagine that. He'd heard Sirius's scream, and people had come running. Other houses- even Slytherin- crowded outside the portrait. But Sirius had kept everyone out. The only people that had actually seen James's body that day were Sirius, McGonagall, Dumbledore, and Madam Pomphry.
Peter nodded with grim determination.
It was too late for James, but it wasn't too late for Sirius.
Lily Evans hadn't cried in years. After being called a freak by her sister, a mudblood by her best friend, and every name in the book at some point, she was like titanium. But now, on the day of arrogant, idiotic, selfish James Potter's funeral, all those tears were coming out.
They were pooling in her lap, staining her cheeks, making the grass glitter like it did in the morning.
Why hadn't she just been there? She loved James, even if she wouldn't admit it. Her friends had actually encouraged her to ask him out, but the day she'd meant to, he died. Suicide.
She didn't understand! She'd never understand.
"Don't cry, Lily," Sirius whispered from where he'd appeared beside her. "I'm sure he's happy now... with his mom in heaven."
At fifteen, Sirius, Lily, James, and so many more buried their childhoods.
The curtain closed with a flourish, and the audience gave a standing alvation.
James... Lily... Sirius... Remus... Peter... go on.
Take a bow.
For those of you that haven't read them, there are two stories in this collection. When I See You Again is about Peter committing suicide, and the Tragedy of Sirius Black is about Sirius's suicide. The final part of this collection is coming up with an undetermined title, but it will be Remus's death.