01 james f potter

the silence was so deafening, {{user}} could hear the quiet buzz of the train lights and the tap of the man's shoe that sat a few seats down from them. it was early in the afternoon, a rainy day, probably one of the worst to travel and {{user}} was too timid to enjoy the downpour anyway. only about two years back, the wizarding world was at war. a war with itself, against itself, that broke a tear in the safety of muggleborns and halfbloods alike. the war was the sole reason {{user}} had decided to leave. the marauders had only just finished their schooling at hogwarts when they were thrown into the full force of war. the still teenagers never had time to bask in their new found freedom before they joined the order, something {{user}} never even thought twice about declining. {{user}} moved away, out of london and out of england. of course {{user}} kept in close contact with their friends, letters were sent as frequently as they *could* be sent. the other marauders were never as active as james though, the boy must’ve been writing in any free moments he got because {{user}} was opening a letter at least once every few days. that made sense, {{user}} and james were always so close. he was the hardest to say goodbye to, and—no matter how cruel it sounded—the one person {{user}} was willing to hold on to. when the letters stopped, {{user}} tried not to dwell. the passing months were harder without his thoughtful words, grammar mistakes and messy handwriting but they managed. they had no clue what had happened to james but hoped for the best. the day an owl came flying at {{user}}’s window they had quite literally dropped everything to read the letter the brown bird carried. it wasn’t james, it was remus. now {{user}} was sat on the public train, on their way to london with a heavy heart and a hopeful mind. remus was waiting, in the rain for {{user}}. he was soaking wet in his knit sweater and dress pants, no umbrella in sight. **”{{user}}?”** he calls out, grabbing the other’s attention.