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greyeyedmonster-18 · 2 months ago

Text

we meet again

(so @arliedraws created a slytherin!sirius universe in which james in an auror and sirius is a death eater (or is he??) and they have unfulfilled homoerotic urges for one another and i...came up with this idea, and it's been in my brain (and @impishtubist's SMS text messages for licherally months). It seemed that arlies most recent day of birth was an appropriate time to drop this. xoxo)

James's cheeks hurt from smiling so widely as two first-year aurors brought out a cake, lit with an abundance of candles that shot up into the air spelling out Happy Retirement Auror Potter! To complete the package, the cake was decorated as a tropical lagoon. Crystal blue waters, and yellow sprinkles on top to mimic a sunset. Sending James a final subliminal message to cash in his 30 years of unspent vacation time, aside from a few days here and there, and disappear into the tropics. Off the grid, off radar, off the cases. Officially.

Not that James was one who ever said I cannot wait to retire in passing--because he had loved every moment of his years in the aurors department. His first year in the training program, his first big raid, his promotion to Senior Auror, to Director of the Department and finally in his last year, the ultimate promotion of having the responsibility of training new aurors. He had put in the work, and he could leave the department and rest easy knowing everyone left behind would continue to do faithful and just work for the wizarding world. Including his son, Harry who, after years of telling James no I'm not coming into the department, I don't want to, I'm not following in your footsteps, shove off, Dad and trying a host of obscure occupations just to prove a point (most recently a shop clerk at Florean Flortescue) he finally confessed to James he had applied.

James tried to pretend he wasn't elated. Harry tried to pretend he wasn't equally as excited, both of them concealing smiles on Harry's first day in the department. Keeping it cool as the Potter Men were known to do.

"I can't believe you actually did it," Harry said, as cake was passed around, the retirement party in full swing. James was halfway through his slice, blue frosting magically enchanted to pool around the rim of his plate.

"Did you doubt it?"

"Yes," Harry stressed, alongside Moody and Sturgis Podmore, both chatting within earshot. Harry gave James a pointed look, as if to say see, it's not just me. "I thought you were going to delay it again just last week when you got all weepy about writing the report details for your last training class. 12 pages--"

"It's important to be thorough--"

"And that last one was damp, swear," Harry teased, and James shook his head cutting off another bite of cake.

"Oh, just you wait. You'll be crying at your desk too when the time comes," James told him, teeth tinted blue as he spoke, "and you'll look around and wonder where the time went and wish you could--"

Harry dropped his head to the side, closing his eyes and letting out a small snore, earning a loud laugh from Moody, before pretending to wake up, "Sorry? I must've fallen asleep while you were reminiscing."

"Reflecting," James corrected.

"Much more interested in our vacation--"

"Oh no, you're much too busy," James told him, letting out a low whistle, "I've seen that training curriculum and I don't think you'll have time for much of anything for the next few...years?" James shrugged, "Looks like I'll be seeing Santorini, and Turks and Caicos all by myself. Maybe I'll finally take your advice and," James paused to think for a moment, "What is it you've been telling me? Find--"

James sentence was cut off by the department doors opening, Kingsley Shacklebolt striding in, violet robes trailing behind him, jaw clenched and eyebrows close together. James couldn't help but laugh a little as Harry seemed to straighten up, putting his hands behind his back as the Minister of Magic made his way toward Moody and the other Senior Aurors in the room. James had known Kingsley for years--and by extension, Harry had known Kingsley for years, but everything seemed to shift when Kingsley went from Your Dads Friend with the Cool Tattoos and Earrings, to Minister of Magic and Effectively Your Boss. Harry cleared his throat and gave James a nod, before following the other younger aurors in looking extremely busy around the office. Suddenly papers were all too out of place, and there was much work to be done, when only moments before, they were playing a rousing game of napkin Quidditch.

"Sorry, Potter, this celebration may have to be cut short. Auror Bones just sent a patronus, and that burglary down at Diagon Alley might not be so simple after all," Shacklebolt said, dropping his voice lower, "The owner of the shop confessed to having some...untoward artifacts in the back, and you'll never guess what was taken."

"What kind of artifacts?" James asked.

"You're retired, Potter."

James looked at his watch, "I'm not retired for another two hours, now what kind of artifacts?"

"Reliquaries is how the owner described them. Heirlooms that have been passed down in his family for centuries...which means--"

"Layers of dark magic." Moody mumbled.

"That's not the important piece, I'm afraid," Kingsley continued, "The only reason the owner knew there had been a burglary was because the backdoor was left unlocked. I remember when I was a junior auror here...there was a series of home theft...shop theft...all of them with the back entry way left open and--"

"A note," James cut him off immediately, eyes wide as his heart pounded against his rib cage. He could feel a flush fall over his body, acid rising in his throat.

"Oh no," muttered Moody.

"What did the note say?" James asked again and Kingsley hesitated, sharing a glance with Moody.

"Potter, you're retiring, enjoy your--"

"What did the note say?" James asked again, this time loud enough to catch the attention of other members of the department.

"Finders keepers."

James's ears were ringing as he left the auror department, not even pausing after Kingsley had spoken the words on the note. Two single words, and suddenly James couldn't see straight. Couldn't think straight.

Finders keepers, finders keepers, finders keepers.

It didn't matter that James was set to retire in an hour and a half.

It didn't matter he had left a party in his honor. It also didn't matter that his lips were stained blue from cake, or that he had dinner plans with Harry after the party to celebrate, just the two of them. He threw open the door to his office, the walls now barren and the space void of any personal touches, and quickly went toward his filing cabinet.

This case, had been the only one James had be removed from. This case, had been the only one in thirty years that had just been marked closed with no real resolution. A series of home thefts over the course of three months, all seemingly connected, but they came up empty every time, eventually abandoning it. After three months, after James was removed from the case, not a single report.

Every time a burglary had been called in since, James read the file and poured over every detail, hoping for more information. For a reason to reopen the case. But none was ever found. James had the dates memorized. Pulling each report one by one, and opening them to the notes found at each scene.

Finders keepers.

He grabbed the files, shrinking them and shoving them into the pockets of his robes, wand in hand as he left his office once more, closing the door behind him. Moody, and Kingsley were already on their way down the hall, nearly chasing after James, urgency in their footsteps to stop him from doing something stupid.

"Potter!" Moody barked

"Evening, Alastor. I believe I have a party to be getting back to," James said simply, though sweat was dripping down his back, beading on the center of his forehead. He ran a hand through his greying hair, in a way he hoped was nonchalant and not in a way that looked dangerously suspicious.

"Potter, do I need to remind you, you were removed from this case and--"

"I'm retired, w-why in Merlins name would--don't be--no, I-I'm not, and there's no, it's a party! I'm having a great time, have a good night!" James gave them both a wave before resuming his brisk walk-run down the hallway, shoes squeaking on the tile floor, eager to get out of the department

He knew where to go.

He knew he shouldn't be going there.

But.

He had to.

There was a fireplace on the first floor of the Ministry of Magic for floo access. James approached the fireplace, thinking, briefly, that perhaps it was foolish to think that after all this time he might still have access--clearance-- to this location. He grasped a handful of floo powder anyway, closing his eyes as he stepped into the fireplace.

"NUMBER TWELVE GRIMMAULD PLACE!"

The sitting room looked exactly as James remembered it.

Sort of.

The curtains had been changed. They were a deep yellow now instead of grey like they were the last time James was here. The carpet had been removed, and James stepped out of the fireplace onto cool hardwood floors.

The pristine black leather couch, and the gaudy chandelier were the same though. So were the end tables, and the armchair in the corner with a hand-embroidered throw pillow. James had laughed at it then, because a crook shouldn't have had something so dainty and delicate so proudly on display in their home. So distracted by the decor, the once familiar smells and sounds of Number 12, he didn't notice the man in the doorway.

"I have to admit, Potter, this is quite the surprise."

James jumped, hand immediately grasping the wand on the inside of his robes, attention turning toward the man in the doorway. Dress shirt rolled up to his elbows, not quite tucked into his trousers; dark hair cut shorter than the last time James saw him. 20 years ago. He was wearing house slippers, which shouldn't have been odd, considering they were indoors and among other names James could've called him, Sirius Black was far from a barbarian, and knew better than to wear shoes around the house. But the slippers were fur lined. And James had to stop the corners of his mouth from grinning--just as they had at the pillow.

All at once, James was in his thirties again. Not his fifties.

And he was staring at Sirius Black. Tall, dark, irritating, criminal , Sirius Black. Thoughts racing, with absolutely nothing to say. Tongue swollen in his mouth.

"I could have you arrested," Sirius remarked casually, tilting his head to the side. "I believe this is what people in your line of work call trespassing, isn't it?"

"Your floo let me in," James responded, sounding much younger, and much more petulant than he intended. It was always that way around Sirius. James had thought that years as an auror would put him in a better position to deal with Sirius Black and his quick tongue. That this time he would be ready, and James would be able to respond with ease and not stare and stammer as he did in the past.

He was wrong.

"Ah, so this is just poor manners? Or did I forget the moment I invited you to my home? Did we have dinner plans?"

"Well, no but--"

"No to poor manners? Or no I didn't forget?"

James rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, "We didn't have plans, Black. I'm not here for a chat--"

"But we have so much to catch up on. It's been ages-- how's your son?"

"Cut the shit, Black. I know you were behind the burglary down in Diagon Alley."

Sirius gasped, pressing his hand to his chest, looking surprised and affronted by James's accusation, "Me? But I've been at home all day. Baking. Would you like a slice of rhubarb, Potter?" Sirius gestured with his head, turning around to walk back through the doorway and down the hall of Grimmauld Place.

James followed.

"Well, don't stand there, you can have a seat. Make yourself at home," Sirius gestured to the kitchen table. Fresh flowers in the center. James took a seat, watching as Sirius waved his wand to begin slicing a pie on the counter, all the while smirking at James with his arms folded across his chest. "Do you still take your tea with cream?"

"No!" James objected, "I mean, I do but don't offer me tea, I'm here--"

"Yes, yes, very official auror business, I remember. Just because you have poor manners and show up unannounced to people's homes--"

"I don't!"

"--doesn't mean that I do, and you're a guest in my home, so I am going to offer you tea. Do you still take it with cream?"

"Yes...thank you," James said, watching as Sirius poured two cups of tea, sending them over to the table, along with the pie before joining James.

Black still had that same damn smile. Not a grey hair in sight, though had more creases under his eyes.

"Thank you," James repeated, looking down at the pie in front of him, something clicking in his brain. "Why...why do you have this pie?"

Sirius smiled slowly. "Why not?"

"Why do you have a rhubarb pie, Black?"

"Well, since you asked. A little birdie told me you were retiring from the auror department and...I just thought I'd...prepare for the occasion. It's your favorite, isn't it?"

#a slytherin sirius universe #prongsfoot #dribble #this could honestly be approximately thousands of words #i really enjoy this universe and love the idea of sirius absolutely rattling james to his core #and sirius just doing things to get james attention #happy belated birthday arlie!!!#i hope i did your little world justice #sirius black #james potter #also this is unedited i wrote it and yeeted it so dont @ me about anything byeeeee

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