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Who: Lily Potter (

cwiclac), James Potter (

heorot), Sirius Black (

doggo), and Remus Lupin (

xxxxx)
What: Keep calm, the Potters have arrived.
When: Lucky number Sept. 10 (or so).
Where: Varies depending on the thread.
Warning(s): Death. Sadness. Attempted child murder. Welcome to Harry Potter!

[ this is a closed log to deal with the initial waking up drama of the marauder era & co. harry potter cast, to avoid clogging the intro log and wasting away the captcha. threads down below to be created by the cast. ]

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[ padfoot barks again, and james lets it pull a laugh out of him, something light and easy and all together out of place considering what has happened so far. he still feels the weight of it pulling at him, but not nearly as bad. not nearly as much. padfoot barks, jumps up on him and locks at every possible spot of james that could be reached, and it was easy to fall into it. he laughs, pushes back, lets padfoot maneuver back into his space before he starts scratching at his sides.

he hears the whines, soft little sounds that james picks up on but can't quite decipher. something hurts when he hears them, something that reminds him of the ice, the way sirius had looked at him in that first moment, when he himself hadn't seen much more than a man, on cracking ice, and the need to help.

james hesitates a bit at the thought, which happens to line up just enough with padfoot backing away from him. watching him with that full, happy grin, shaking with the excitement of it, and then he sits. james, in turns, sits back on his legs, leaning his weight back to his calves and ankles, mimicking padfoot in his own way. and for a few moments, all they do is sit - padfoot watching james, excited and happy and trembling with the extent of it. and in that moment, james yearns for it. can feel the urge to change hovering right under his skin. it'd be easy, too easy, to shift into it and take off down the halls.

but he doesn't, sitting back and waiting for the moment that's about to come. waiting for sirius, from padfoot. james realizes, then, that he needs that as much as he needs anything else.

he lets out a breath, not quite a sigh but close enough, and he feels his chest cave in a bit with it. ]

C'mon, mate.

[Padfoot's ears prick at the sound of James' voice and his tail thumps again. These are involuntary movements. The sense and weight and meaning of the actual words sink in second, and Padfoot's ears turn back. With his mouth still closed, he whines again, quietly, not quite pointed enough to be a protest.

And then it's that all-over inside-out shiver, and instead of Padfoot, it's Sirius. He isn't in his prison uniform any longer; he's put that aside for other clothes, cut in the style of what's worn planetside, in dark colours. His hair has seen a trim since he's arrived, no longer elbow-length and matted, and he looks significantly less skeletal--still a man who has not had an easy time, maybe, but no longer starving in addition to all of that.

There is nothing at all strange about licking James' face as a dog and then turning back human a few moments later. Not for them, at least. There is nothing at all strange about the way that Sirius stares at James, hungry, eager, a little desperate, as human emotion seeps back in to give nuance to all that happiness. His breath shakes, when he lets it out--and he smiles, he can't help himself.]

Hi, Prongs.

[--Which is an understatement, which is what makes it funny, which is why he wants to laugh. He wants to grab hold of James again, as he had in that simmy lation. Latent dog memories echo just how brilliant that would be. James, a novelty that Sirius will never get tired of, not now, not ever. He starts to get to his feet.]

[ there is absolutely nothing weird about padfoot, jumping and licking and barking, nearly knocking james to the ground in his excitement, turning in the most fluid and easy movement possible directly back into james' best friend. it's a status, a relationship, that they've gotten familiar with - just as it's familiar for them, as a stag and dog, to run wildly through any field or forest or, sometimes, towns. instincts could be honed, tamed, habits learned. this? this was just james and sirius, prongs and padfoot, no matter if one or both had tails.

but then he's sirius again, sirius sirius, and james watches the shift with the casual curiosity he believes he'd always have for magic. he knows he can do it, that everything he sees is just part of the animagus form they'd do diligently studied for so long, but to see it happen each time still caught his eye.

and then, sirius. thinner than james remembers, with longer hair, a taunter face. more and more details add up as james sees him for the first time since the ice, a weird amalgamation of that same guilt, but also relief, excitement, happiness. having his best mate here automatically made it all feel a little easier to carry, a little lighter of a load. physically, james relaxes seeing him, a dip to his shoulders and a breath of tension, exhaled. ]

Padfoot.

[ but then sirius smiles, then sirius just about laughs, and james feels his own smile break his face and grow - just as bit - as they both move to stand. he dusts off his knees a bit when he gets to his feet before fully straightening. when he does, there's an almost hesitation in the way he looks at the other - unsure, momentarily, of what exactly he's even supposed to say.

that, on its own, is too alien and entirely too uncomfortable, so james lets out a puff of air to push himself past it. ]

Looking a little worse for wear there, Pads. [ and then whatever had been holding that off, whatever had been holding it back, snaps. james just about surges forward, closing the distance and throwing his arms around sirius' shoulders and burying his face into whatever kind of space clothes sirius is apparently wearing. ]

[James comes half the distance, and Sirius the other half; the moment James moves closer he is moving closer, too. When James grabs hold of him he doesn't lift his arms straight away but lets that feeling soak in. The last time he had seen James is a memory kept mostly safe from the dementors because there was so much guilt and regret to it. Now it comes back to him, in a rush, stood outside the cottage, Lily and James and Harry, and Sirius had hugged James one last time before he had turned to go, quick, and how often had he wished that he would have stayed, that he would have changed it back, felt some prickle of misgiving, some premonition touched into life by the press of James' hand against his back.

Now it does not matter. James steps in close and Sirius finally grabs hold of him. No ginger careful grip, this. He seizes onto James and pulls him in, and the heat behind his eyes is growing worse by the second and his laugh--when he manages it--is damp, awful, he feels like something in his chest is fighting very hard to get out, and he laughs again, ragged, as he crushes James against him.

Shut up, is what he begins to say, git, you have no idea, or else what he wants to say, but instead he puts one hand to the back of James' neck and pulls him in closer, staring fixedly at the wall beyond him until it blurs.

If the Orbiters asked Sirius to walk into space right now, he would do it. Worth it for this moment. For James.]

[ for james, it wasn't all that long ago. months, maybe longer, standing out in front of the last place he'd remember, saying goodbye. they'd agreed together, who would hold the secret. agreed together that this was for the best. but even still, the moment had been harder than james was really prepared for. sirius was his other half, his best friend, his brother- they hadn't really, honestly, been apart since the day sirius showed up at his house before their sixth year, trunk in hand.

it'd been for the best, it'd been for his and lily and harry's sake, but james would be lying if it hadn't been one of the hardest things he'd ever done. and this, being the first time he's seen sirius since that moment (not counting the ice, the way his heart had seized when he fell-) and the rush of everything follows up behind it.

voldemort came to godric's hollow. on halloween. 1981.

lily's voice had been so heavy, so hollow, and if james' hands are shaking he's sure neither of them could tell with his tightly he grips the back of sirius' jacket, taking slow, steady breaths and ignoring how they hitch somewhere in the back of his throat. part of him wants to stay here, that maybe if he never lets go of sirius now, all of this will turn out to be some kind of insane dream, fueled by weird mixtures of potions and drinking and who knows what else. he wants this to be a nightmare, wants the silent understanding of what lily meant to be all in his head.

but he knows that's too much to ask. knows that's too much to want. he takes another breath, and it's a bit steadier this time, before he feels himself laughing too - not quite as loud as sirius' had been. he pats at sirius' back, slapping a hand against his shoulder, before gripping onto the fabric again. ]

Merlin it's good to see you. [ his words are soft when he finally gets them out, tucked somewhere in sirius' neck and shoulder. part of him starts to relax, like he's going to pull away, and then decides against it. he does pull up his face, setting his chin on sirius' shoulder rather than tucked into it. ] This is all such a fucking mess.

Yeah? Well, you're here and awake now, so we'll get it sorted.

[Sweeping and cavalier and entirely ridiculous, but at the same time: what can't the combined genius of Messieurs Padfoot and Prongs manage. And it has been so long since he's had the luxury of that confidence that it nearly feels foreign, an easy warmth that makes him feel something close to himself again. It's having James back that does it. Even a world that is not his own makes more sense with James in it.

When he pulls away, it's only so he can get a look at James, shifts his grip so he's still holding to him--by the arms now, gripping at him like a fucking lifeline. Exactly the same as he remembers. Doesn't matter. He could still go on looking at James all day. And he knows that he looks half a wreck by comparison, all ground down and narrow--but when he grins, which he does now, he looks a little better. He has begun, at some point, to cry, and he throws himself back at James.]

Merlin.

[--All choked, half a croak.]

Fucking hell, James. I can't, [finish that sentence, is what he can't do, because he can't put it into words, everything he's thinking. Halloween, the cottage, the alley, Peter's face all shiny with sweat, aurors swarming the scene and the bodies laying strewn like ragdolls chucked by a petulant child. The walls of Azkaban. Screaming that came down a long corridor, gibbering washed out by the seething of the tide. Four paws on soil, the taste of the air. Hogwarts, the Shack, Harry looking so much like James that it hurt to see him. And a world, always, that did not have James in it, a world that made Sirius feel as if something had been carved out of him, like he was leeching blood, a little every day that he had to wake up without James Potter. They have to move on, they have to talk about this, about the end of the world, about Voldemort, Harry, about how they are here now, but Sirius can't think past James. Not yet.]

[ it feels a bit unhinged, really. something about the way tears are definitely - now - falling down his cheeks. how he laughs, again, despite the weight of it. despite how it feels like there is something large and dark and heavy sitting right on his ribs.

you're here and awake now and james laughs again, a bit easier this time, because the way sirius says it feels like it's possible. like it's that easy. an air of confidence that feeds directly into james' chest, pushing it out just a bit, standing him up straighter, just a bit. the kind of support that only occurs between Messieurs, between Marauders, between them.

sirius might pull away, but james' hands are still there. hanging from his elbows for the short moments they're parted, then back around his middle when they're embracing again, not quite long enough for him to notice just what all is off. how skinny sirius looks. hold old. maybe it's because part of him doesn't want to believe it. maybe it's because he knows something is wrong, but he doesn't want to see it, because right now he has sirius back and right now that's all that he needs to have.

he laughs again this time it is definitely, certainly, more of a sob, squeezing sirius' ribs a bit closer like the force of it alone with straighten this all back out. he thinks about lily, about harry somewhere in these pods, about saying goodbye and about the way lily had looked at him when he asked what had happened. it comes rushing at him all at once, and if it wasn't for sirius' body there against him, james isn't sure he'd still be standing. ]

I know, I know, but it's okay. It's alright. [ the words come without thought, rubbing his hands back across sirius' back, comforting in their own way but also desperate. ] I'm awake now, right? Me and Lily, and you too. It'll work out. [ and now it's james' turn, pulling away just enough to look at the other wizard, his hands gripped firm on his shoulders and the side of sirius' neck. now is when james really gets a look at him, and that feeling he'd been pushing off settling right behind his chest. sirius looks tired, like he's aged, and momentarily james wonders if he'd done something wrong in his arrangement.

your loved ones are safe. ]

You are alright, yeah? [ because looking at you... james doesn't have to say it, really. it's plain enough on his face. ]

Yeah. I'm-- [When Sirius smiles--which he does now, he can't help it, he's looking James in the face, and if that's not something to smile about then what the hell is, really--but when he smiles it takes some of the age out of him, reverses a great deal of the damage that Azkaban did.] --fine. You're awake.

[A little bit awed still. Overcome, maybe, is a better word for it. Likely he will never be over gift.]

Lily woke up as well? That's-- Merlin, James-- [He laughs, again, breathless and incredulous as he grips at James, one hand on his arm, one hand on his neck, mirroring the grip James has on him.] And Harry?

[Harry leads him next to--] Remus. Remus is here as well--somewhere. I'll send him a message, we'll find him.

[ the smile makes it easier, pulls away just enough at the lines, and some of that worry fades. some of that uncertainty. sirius looks different, even now, but james also doesn't really feel like he can push it. doesn't want to break whatever moment is here, now. sirius- whole and here, grinning back at him.

james nods, a grin that is saved solely for mentions of one lily evans potter splits across his face. though it doesn't reach its full potential, a kind of hesitation around the corners. ] Yeah, she's- she's awake. [ it's the mention of harry that fully has his face dropping. ] No. Not- not that we've found. He's just a baby, Sirius. I don't know what- [ his hand balls a bit in sirius' sleeve but he takes a breath and shakes his head. ] They said he's safe, for sure, but we haven't found him.

[ at the mention of remus, james momentarily pauses - as if remembering something he'd forgotten in the heat of the moment - and then he's grinning. remus. they're all- or, well. not all. ] Lily went to look for him, I think, but send for him anyway. I just- this is all mad, isn't it? And it's not just me thinking it? [ but then, before sirius really has time to answer, james is pulling him with the hand behind his neck, sliding the arm over his shoulder and immediately starting off back in the direction they came. that was he was doing, wasn't it? getting sirius while lily tried to find anyone else, and then regrouping? still, james feels lighter, bouncier, stronger, and he huffs another laugh as they start off. ] C'mon, I told Lily I'd bring you back.

[He's nodding, filling in the gaps of what James is saying. Lily is awake, alive and well, that's James' Lily grin, and how well does Sirius know it. Really rather too well. And Harry, safe but not awake--]

We'll find Harry. Found you, didn't I.

[Back to that confidence. He doesn't need to nod to signal his agreement. Contact Remus, right-o, no problem there, already getting his device thinger out of his pocket to put that message together. As he does:]

It's completely mad.

[That one's easy to agree with. Sirius is decent enough at texting--he's had lessons, as he's told other people--seven keystrokes is all it takes, bring up Remus' name, put in James', hit send. Simpler than owling. He wants to tell Remus himself, he wants to drag James back to Remus like a dog showing off a favourite toy, a favourite person, look at this--he wants to tell everyone he seems, but instead he goes back to looking at James as they start off together.]

All of it, the-- world ending, the Orbiters--the fact that we're on a bloody spaceship together. That we're together at all. It's completely mad. They told me you were here. [It's a sudden topic change. He won't have to explain it to James. James will understand. Sirius swallows, hard. He's still grinning.] I knew you were. We've been looking, me and Remus, for you, and Harry, and Lily--

That was more of a joint effort, I'd say. [ but james is laughing, because yes. they found sirius. and now sirius will help them find harry. that was the point to him and lily splitting, wasn't it? to find help, to get help, to find harry. and now that he's got sirius, and now that they're going back to get lily, it'll all work out. it's the kind of confidence that only comes when sirius black and james potter are together.

james misses the whole messaging thing entirely. he's still not quite sure what that was supposed to mean, or what it would do, but if sirius has it covered then he doesn't have to think about it, taking the time instead to walk sirius back with him to where he and lily had last been. ]

A spaceship. Padfoot, we're on a bloody spaceship. [ it's all so ridiculous that james feels himself having to believe it. sure, why not. the world was going to end and some kind of alien group called 'orbiters'. of course he's now in space, with lily and sirius and also remus. and they'll find harry, and they'll be safe, and james wonders, really, when the last time he laughed like this had been.

but then sirius says knew and were and it's not enough for james to stop walking, but it is enough to pull his attention. there's something that hangs behind sirius' words that james wants to pick at, sure, but first- ] Wait, wait- how long have you been awake?

[A spaceship, yeah, and Sirius tears his gaze away from James so he can survey the whole of said spaceship, get a quick look at what surrounds them. He is no less baffled and awed by it in turns, perhaps only a little less than James is now.]

Not long. I've not exactly kept a calendar--I was never good at appointment books, you know that--but it can't be any more than a few months or so.

[Without revenge and Peter to stake himself to, that same unmoored feeling he used to have in Azkaban has come creeping back. Time became important again only once he'd seen Fudge's newspaper. Start of term in September. He's at Hogwarts. Sirius shuts that all away for now and looks back at James once more. It is difficult to stop looking at him, now that he's here.]

And the same's true of Remus. We woke up at the same time, nearly from the same point in time. And we've looked for you--Harry as well--

[Harry, who was only a baby to Sirius as well before Padfoot spotted him, and his tail had started wagging before he had made sense of why: because Harry looked so much like James, thirteen years of age, dragging his trunk behind him. That's who Sirius has been looking for. But if Harry has come here from the same point in time that James had--]

Look--Prongs. When they told you Harry was safe, did they say what age he was?

[ it feels almost too much to try and wrap his head around. a space ship, saving the world, your loved ones are safe. he won't kick a gift horse in the mouth, of course, but it almost seems too much to be possible. but he'll take it, he'll take all of it, and once they have harry-

though james does come to a pause - even in their walking - when sirius mentions that. a comment that pull him completely to a stop. he knows there's more at play, magics he doesn't understand and he's not sure he ever will, but until now he'd had a general sense that things were at least vaguely normal. time, space, magic. now? ]

A few months? [ the words feel wrong in his mouth, weighted all wrong when they roll off his tongue. months. months. sirius and remus, here- had they made their own deal? had the orbitors come to them? james had assumed it was his because he didn't think a deal made to save all of his loved ones would need to be made multiple times over, but maybe he was wrong. maybe it was luck that they'd talked to lily, that they'd brought harry, that sirius and remus were here. but then sirius says things like same point in time and what age he was and james' mouth sets into a frown.

he hadn't thought about time. he hadn't thought that this would all be different. james thinks back to the way lily had looked at him, eyes wide, did he wipe your memory? to sirius' wiry frame, the jauntiness of his face. james feels suddenly quite sick, the implications of what it could all mean, of what lily hadn't been able to say. it washes over him like ice, like the cold water beneath their feet, like watching sirius plummet.

did they say what age. ]

No, they- they didn't. [ he'd been imagining his son, just over fourteen months, getting so big sleeping away somewhere in those pods. it's why he'd been hurrying, why they needed help. his son, his baby, was around here somewhere and-

time. same time. nearly from the same point in time. james' eyes fall to the floor in front of them for a moment, needing something that isn't moving to ground him as the thoughts start to spin. his arm is still around sirius' shoulder, the familiar set of it helping keep him standing, but the more things start to set together the more he feels the ground under him starting to creak. ] I assumed he'd just be a baby. Just- the same as-

[ but then he looks back over to sirius, eyes wide with this list of sudden, overwhelming realizations. ] What age would he be?

[And Sirius belays his own sinking feeling in favor of grabbing hold of James' arm, trapping him with that brief weight as if to keep him there for good. Only one of them can be overwhelmed at a time. Counterweights, keeping one another together.

It's all right, he does not say. Because it is not all right. James should have lived. Lily should have lived. Harry--]

He's brilliant, James.

[Sirius says that with full confidence.]

He was thirteen when I saw him last. And he's brilliant.

[There's more to it. Would Sirius rather talk about Harry? Bet ever sickle on it. But he has to tell James.]

The way time works, here--there's no way to explain it. The magic that runs this whole thing, it can bring anyone from any time. They've got Newt bloody Scamander running about, the one who wrote the textbook. He's younger than I am, I think. No beard at all.

[As light as he's being, he's still got that grip on James' arm. In case there was any thought about a lack of support, or a chance to pull away.]

[ he does shake, a kind of collection of tremors that starts in his feet and move up to his knees. he wants to collapse, he wants to shift, he wants to be prongs and he wants to run because it all settles too much too fast.

voldemort came to godric's hollow

sirius' hands are tight, they're solid, and james' attention shifts. back to his hands, back to the hallway, back to them. sirius grips onto his arm, and james is centered by it, the presence, the act, just him being here after all of these months in hiding without any contact at all, having sirius around is enough to make james feel more whole. he can settle, he can stand, he can do this because sirius is here and lily is okay.

and harry is brilliant. harry is thirteen years old, and brilliant.

harry survived. harry was alive. harry.

james feels his attention drift for a moment, a kind of off-kilter collection of ideas. he's brilliant, he's thirteen, he's at school, he's in his third year, is he a gryffindor? does he play quidditch? they're all things james wants to know, things he needs to know, but with that knowledge comes the crushing realization that he doesn't know. it sinks a lot like a stone in his gut, he doesn't know, and he won't know, but sirius pulls him back out of it again. ]

Newt Scamander? You mean- [ yes, that is exactly what he means. time. it's weird, and it's off, and it makes no sense at all. james has to be okay with that, now, because that's just how it is. it's off, it's all bloody off, but they're okay. he turns back to look at sirius again, confused, but back again. away from the dangerous trail of thoughts he'd been going down.

and then, for whatever reason, he snorts. ] Did you even read that one? Care of Magical Creatures. We let it loose in the girls dorm that one time, but beyond that I'm not sure I even remember even looking at it.

I spent more time defacing it than reading it. I'm honestly not sure how to tell him, poor fellow.

[He puts brief pressure on James' arm, a silent all right?. Of course it is still not all right, in the large sense of all right; it is unfair to the highest degree. But James is here., now, and the world ended, so they have this much, at least, a second chance at all of it.]

If we're here, that means anyone could be here. And that includes Harry. There's no way they brought the author of some textbook and left behind your son. We've just got to find him, keep track of him.

['Just', like it's that easy. It will be easy. James is here. The world--or what passes for the world these days--can begin to make sense again, fit itself back into the order that Sirius has been missing. Like having a limb lopped off.

When he looks back at James again, he thinks of a hundred things at once. The last time he saw James, the first time he saw James. Harry, laying on his back on the tatty rug at Godric's Hollow. Harry, in the Shack, white-faced and angry; James in the Shack, with dust in his hair. Very haunted, Moony. Harry astride the hippogriff, impossible and foolhardy and brave to a fault.]

He really is brilliant, James. You'll have to ask Remus for his marks.

We'll just have to break it to him slow. He'll have to understand.

[ he nods - in response to the pressure rather than the comment. it's fine. because no, it's not all right, but he's got his footing and he's got sirius and they're going to find lily. and remus. they find them, and then they'll search for harry. harry- who could be thirteen bloody years old, somewhere around here. the thought makes james' stomach churn, his son, but it's okay. it'll be okay. they'll find him.

sirius keeps talking, making perfect sense with it all too, and james finds himself nodding with it. yes, yes, no, he's right, he's completely right. of course harry is here. of course they'll find him. they'll just need to get out and start searching. james' hand curls around sirius' shirt, still feeling the echos of the tremors but knowing, knowing it'll be fine.

despite it all, though, james laughs once at the idea of marks. at the idea of his son's marks, that remus would know. it seems too strange to be true, but when he looks back to sirius again - the age, the stretch of his skin, what seems to be slowly a slowly filling hollow look - and his laughter dies off. ]

Marks. [ the last image he has of harry is him toddling around the living room, barely walking. now sirius is talking marks, and school, and he really is brilliant.

the next laugh he gives is quieter, weaker in strength, in breadth. ] He is Lily's son, that's not much of a surprise. [ and then, like a switch being flicked back into place, james stands a bit straighter. the mention of lily, even if it was his own doing, tended to have that effect on him - and with a glance back in the direction they'd been walking, he motions his head. ] C'mon- we need to get back to her. She wasn't- [ well. but he stops, unable to bring himself to say it. ] Let's get back so we can look for Harry.

[She wasn't, unfinished. Sirius doesn't need it to be finished, he can work it out by the quick halt, forestalls any other elaboration by nodding, once. Right. Just best friend things, mentally working out what the other one means so you can get on with it. Everything he has to say to James could fill a textbook of its own, even if it was twelve empty years of Azkaban, there is still so much to say, but he knows James. Lily, Harry: important. He will not hold him here.

They start off, then, in the direction James has indicated. Sirius keeps his grip on James, no matter how awkward it makes the walk. He will let him go eventually. Not yet.]

Did you pick a place where you'd meet her up, or were you just trusting yourself to find her on your own?

[ they start off, and james finds himself subconsciously stepping back to sirius' side. there is less joviality to it, as he finds that he hasn't been able to quite shake what was said. but that's where the best friend comes into play, where sirius steps in and fills the space and doesn't let go of him, the two still walking off down the hall. it's the push pull, the give and take, the filling the space whenever the other fall behinds.

james feels a bit like he's falling behind even now, distracted as they keep walking, but then there's sirius. ]

Yeah- it's where we met when we woke up. [ he blinks, trying to push out the thoughts still speeding by. thirteen. he's brilliant. like james wouldn't know. like james can't know. voldemort came to godric's hollow. it lurches around in james' stomach, thinking about how he left lily there, to split up to find sirius and remus. if she came from that, if she knows what happened.

another fistful of fabric and james blinks again. no. not important right now. lily is important. getting back to lily is important. ] Near the pods, I can show you. [ he gets his footing back a bit more, starts to actually move back into the room. ] If she's not there, we're supposed to send a patronus. Or use whatever- [ he motions towards the strange device thing sirius had pocketed after sending whatever it was he'd sent. ] Something to get her attention. To let her know I found you. Though if she's found Remus then she'd be heading back there anyway...

[Sirius nods--not absently, fully present, because he's here with James and nothing has ever quite seized his attention like James. At the same time, he flicks through other thoughts, Harry and then Lily, when he thinks of her he thinks of the neat slant of her handwriting, her laughing with her chin on his shoulder while they danced at their wedding and before that too, in the Leaky Cauldron, in the cottage, it always seemed as if it was raining in those days and the chance to laugh felt like uncovering gold you'd forgotten about--and then he thinks of Harry, again, Lily's eyes and James' face and something else, too, something brave and wonderful and brilliant.

His device buzzes just then, and when he checks the message, a grin flickers over his features. He holds it so James can see. Contact name REMUS, simple straightforward message, just four characters: LILY.]

Better than owling in a lot of ways, isn't it. Faster, if nothing else. [He tucks the device back into his pocket.

And then a sudden thought occurs to him, and this time when he grins over at James, it's almost a smirk, and definitely familiar.]

Think we can beat them there?

[ it's easier, james finds, having sirius there. it's always that way, he knows, but it's a specific moment where they are walking and his arm is still around sirius that he realizes, belatedly, how would i have done this without him. it doesn't matter, now, because sirius is here and lily is here and remus is here, but the almost-shock of it settles uncomfortably in him.

the device buzz jerks him away from that, though. his eyes following sirius' hand, the object, and then the screen. all he really understands are the names, REMUS and LILY and it's fine, all over again.

the smile he gives is relief - it means less waiting, it means they'll all meet up together again, it means-

harry. ]

Yeah. [ the agreement comes out a bit distracted, james' mind still trying to figure out a safe place to stand among all of this, and that's when sirius grins. really, truly, grins, and like a shock james is back to it again, jerked out of whatever place he'd been sinking and pulled directly into a familiar state of being. competition, excitement, james and sirius. ]

I would bloody hope so. [ james is grinning too, his eyes alight. he glances down the hall, then back to sirius, slowly unhooking his arms from him. ] The question is. Can you keep up?

[Can he keep up. Sirius--mostly bone and sinew, looking quite underfed and hollowed out, and only a little less shifty by virtue of clothes that aren't a prison uniform--looks over at James.]

Better than keep up.

[And without further warning, he transforms--because of course he transforms, and James will have been anticipating that. That all-over inside out feeling which resolves into fur, four legs, a tail, an itch between his shoulderblades which is really the instinct to run. And he does, from zero to gallop without notice.]

[ james is already transforming before sirius has even finished his four words, the shift as easy to him as breathing. one moment it was james, and then it is prongs, tall and lean and already moving.

prongs does hesitate for a second - just long enough to see fur and dog and friend and then he's taking off down the hallway, his feet barely touching the ground. he can't remember the last time he did this, or was able to do this, which is part of the reason why he takes off like he does without any sense of worry of other people in the hallway or where they'll go.

prongs knows where they're going, of course, but the adrenaline of being able to go at all has him turning the long way down a hallway, just needing a little extra stretch to run. he doesn't have to check if padfoot is there with him. he knows he is like he knows where his feet need to go or which corner he needs to round.

one more minute. sixty second. they'll be there. ]

[Padfoot is there, of course, dogging Prongs' hooves. What he lacks in length of leg and stride, he makes up for in concentration and spirit--head low, ears tucked back to streamline him, covering as much ground as he can in each bound. He does not know where he is going, so he gives Prongs the lead for a bit, careful to keep up, to close the gap between them so he can put on a burst of speed at the last moment.

Scents are flickering to life in the corridors as they run. Chill clinical smell of the ship, the pods, whatever is in the pods which plays hell on canine senses, something that he cannot recognise--and little ribbons of smell, dull because he does not know them, strangers that have come and gone, crossed and recrossed--and there is the James smell, and the Prongs smell, but that's because Prongs is in front of him, and Padfoot tries to unbraid the James smell even as he tries to keep pace with a bloody running stag--

And all the while his tail is wagging, his heart is playing a happy high rhythm in his chest. He is the happiest; this is the happiest. Running with Prongs. There is nothing better, nothing nothing nothing, and if he could spare the breath to bark, he would.

Instead, he puts on a burst of speed, just to try to show off.]

[ everything about this is different - different place, different halls, different smells, different sounds. prongs can't quite see the whole of it yet, but the memory of walking down the halls and seeing them from other angles earlier gives him enough room to move. enough room to run. and that's what he does, lets his legs stretch and dash, weaving back and forth across the hallway to avoid obstacles and to just feel how nice it is to move.

padfoot is there. he can tell before he can see, and he doesn't take the time to really see, knowing for one that this is a race and for two, it's a chance to let go. and he does. running through these halls as prongs means that for once, in months, this is all he needs to worry about.

the rush off down another hallway, letting padfoot gain a little ground - the burst of speed working directly in prongs' favor, as it pushes padfoot further in front of him at the exact moment that prongs makes a drastic, immediate turn into the room to their right. it's another twenty or so meters still they're back to the spot, and prongs takes off towards it, uncaring of the looks they're certainly, already, starting to attract. ]

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