Royals

pleurer. 1789.

James had a child.

A sweet little thing with eyes greener than any garden and hair as black as the night.

James had a child and now the bourgeoisie wonders how the Potters will deal with the shame, because James had a child with no one else than the stable girl and this was not planned.

James was supposed to take his father's company, he was supposed to marry a French girl, like Adélaïde. He was supposed to lead the life his parents had written down for him.

Fleamont Potter hadn't shouted, Euphemia Potter didn't cry.

On the contrary, they had been so happy. They had been so proud of their son and their grandchild because nothing meant more to them than James' happiness.

Not even their reputation.

Sirius knows it would not have been the case for him, he knows how it would have ended if he had been the one with a bastard child and a stable girl.

But once again, the Potters were better than the Blacks, nothing could change that.

When James came to see Sirius with Harry in his arms and Lily by his side, a smile so beautiful on his face and a question so sweet on his lips, all Sirius could do was cry.

"Would you be his godfather? I know your family might not agree, but I really want you to be part of his life."

And of course, Sirius said yes, he said yes without thinking of the consequences because this was James, his brother from another mother and he could never say no.

When Lily slowly caressed Sirius' cheek, telling him how good he would be for Harry, how happy it made her, Sirius sobbed softly. For once in his life he felt like he was worth something, like he was important.

Then Remus came to meet the child, his large hands holding the small figure of Harry with so much love and affection, Sirius truly believed he would faint.

Because this is what he wanted for the rest of his miserable life.

He wants to wake up next to Remus Lupin and eat breakfast with him, he wants to take him out, hold his hand and kiss him without fearing for their lives. He wants Remus to hold their child like this, he wants his own son or daughter to cherish.

They don't have to be his blood, they don't have to look like him at all.

If he could have a child, any child, black or white, girl or boy, with Remus Lupin, nothing else would matter. Nothing in the world would mean more than parenthood with Remus.

His thoughts and dreams were broken by the apparition of his mother, a wicked frown plastered on her face as she asked James to leave her propriety with his bastard son and whore.

James glared, he told her that Lily was not a whore because they are engaged and that he has every right to come see his best friend, his son's godfather.

Walburga didn't answer, she just grabbed Sirius' arm and led him away from what she must think is an abomination.

"You will never see him again, understood? We can't have people believe you accept such infamy when you are about to be wed."

And it's true, in less than two months, Sirius will be married to Adélaïde for the rest of his life. In less than two months he will have to make love to her and the simple idea of it makes him nauseous. In less than two months, his story with Remus will be just that, a story.

He feels himself breaking when he sees Remus saying goodbye to James and Lily, his long fingers tracing a circle on Harry's chubby cheek.

Don't say goodbye, don't leave me, don't let me leave you.