#theyre so the borders by sam fender coded

[evanorphia]

okay so i’m thinking about sunkiller as childhood friends who stopped talking once they got sorted into rival houses and, i need to share the layers of angst i’ve created, it’s like an onion

they grow up in the same neighbourhood and they’re really close with each other, always sneaking out to play with one another. effie and monty we're practically like a second set of parents for barty and he viewed monty as more as his dad than he did his own father. they were practically like brothers and everyone would always say they were similar, the entire town knew they were friends.

and then, when they’re sorted into rival houses they stop talking. when effie asks james why he’s no longer hanging out with barty he mumbles that it’s because barty was sorted into slytherin and about how all slytherins were assholes. (and hang on with me here), it hurts effie to hear that because when she had been at hogwarts she too had been in slytherin.

as they grow older, and they’re still not talking, barty crouch sr starts to wish that james had been his son instead of barty. after all james was everything barty was not. where barty was reckless, james was respectable; where barty was a bad son, james was an amazing son; where barty would talk back and say nasty things, james was kind and a good friend. and it becomes increasingly apparent to barty that his father thought this until one day during an argument, barty crouch sr screams those words at him, admitting to his own son that he wishes that he had been someone else. but not only just anyone else; barty’s childhood best friend whom he no longer spoke with.

this manifested into barty resenting and hating james even more than he did before. not only did he now have a dislike towards him but a yearning deep down inside of him to be like james, he always pushed it to the back of his mind though, out of the way because he didn’t want to be what his father wanted of him. and if he was like james, then he was exactly that. what his father wanted.

for james, the loss of barty had stung in a different way. although he had friends here at hogwarts barty had always been his first friend — the only real friend he had had during the first twelve years of his life until barty had joined him in hogwarts. barty had been the one to see him get his first broom, to notice when something was wrong, and to have broken his parents rules with him. and now barty hated him.

james wasn’t sure why over the years the hatred had manifested and grown to become something more, something stronger. for the most part he and barty stayed well clear of each other, so it wasn’t something he was doing to barty.

he’d gotten over it after the first couple months of not speaking to him but at some point during seventh year he started to find himself staying up and thinking about barty obsessively, wondering what would have happened with their lives if they’d stayed friends instead of cutting each other off. james couldn’t even begin to imagine how lonely christmases would’ve been for barty after they stopped talking, couped up in that soulless house all alone for the most part; his father never was home and his mother often with his father.