Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Au Revoir	By : Fallen_Delilah Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 12719 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 9
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
Dying was hard. He always pictured it easy for some reason.
Ideally, his life would have been a long and happy one, complete with an unshakable Bond, many wonderful children, an admirable career, close friends, and a few grandchildren. He would fade away in his sleep, satisfied and welcoming of Death's embrace. His beloved would be right beside him, either welcoming him on the rest of their eternal journey or following behind him soon after. They would continue to watch over their children and their descendants and welcome them when joined on the Other Side-- like their families did for them.
In reality, death was painful.
He could still recall how hard his forehead pressed against his beloved's and his face was held in their hands as he saw the love and sadness and exoneration and pain, so much pain, in grey eyes. It was a small comfort against he stabbing ache in his head, the fire that scalded his veins, the way his body jerked and twisted with deep, agonizing pains, how every breath became heavier and heavier until he couldn't draw any air at all.
He remembered the heat of his own tears as he watched the life start to leave his love, neither ready to leave their son behind but their joint demise inevitable. It didn't matter that their child was in good hands, or that the rest of their family and friends would make sure he treasured their memories. They wanted to be the ones to raise him and watch him grow up into the strong, resilient man he would eventually become.
In other words, dying fuckin sucked.
******
There was a meadow of flowers.
Hundreds and hundreds of them, as far as the eye could see, in a ridiculous number of colors and variety. The sky was a brilliant cerulean and missing a sun but he swore he could still feel it's warmth covering his body. A breeze lazily brushed by and he found relaxing as he inhaled the soothing combined aromas of the meadow.
There was another warmth wrapped around one of his hands. He looked down to find pale cream fingers entwined with his own pink digits. A glance to the side showed his love sat beside him, gazing at the field in wonder. A glowing smile was his gift to his beloved when grey eyes laid themselves on him. It was happily returned before both of them resumed flower-watching.
There was no sadness or pain, only peace, knowing he was sharing this timeless happiness with the other half of his soul.
It could have been seconds or years before he heard a sound that he'd missed with a soul-deep ache for years. Peals of joyful laughter came from directly behind the two and he turned his head. Hazel eyes stared back at him, and though the face was only vaguely familiar, he had no doubt as to the identity of the man standing before him.
It was his star, who'd left him way too soon, and he wasn't alone. There were plenty of people with him, some resembling himself, and others, his love. The couple welcomed family members long gone with open arms and tears of joy. But it was his star he held the longest and tightest, streams of happiness running down his face. And his lost child held him back just as tight and just as long with just as many tears.
A cottage appeared within the meadow a short while after their family. It was charmingly small and made of dark wood and pale stone with a steep-pitched roof, graceful arches, and a wraparound porch. A large front window gave them a peek into a cozy interior complete with a fire place.
Your now home, the couple was told before being ushered inside.
******
He discovered the fireplace could be used for more than heat. It was screen directly connected to the world of the living. He used it often to keep track of his loved ones. More specifically, the child they'd left behind.
It infuriated him to see how awfully his baby was treated by those muggles. They yelled and beat and starved his little king and it pained him that he couldn't be there to comfort him. He watched angrily as the abuse worsened year after year and his beloved's snarled threats grew more creative, knowing they were helpless to stop any of it. His star looked on with them and could only hope that his brother would survive.
The situation didn't any better once his little king started Hogwarts. Those maggots he called friends were nothing more than paid spies for the slimy bastard who was responsible for his son's lack of guardians. Only his old friend looked after his son, behind a thorough mask of abhorrence and bitterness. Year after year, the dangers increased and he was positive he would met his son before the child had a chance to see his fifteenth birthday. But then, a friendship began and flourished between his little king and a trio of special triplets.

A necromancer, his love told him, pointing at the one with pale grey eyes.
And he knew their chance to help their son had come so he pleaded with the boy, Help my son. Show him the truth before he's broken.

The response back was carried on the winds, barely louder than a whisper. "I will help him but you will reveal to him the truth."

How?, he asked, already suspecting what the boy had in mind.

"For a short while, I will bring you to him," the boy whispered in return.

Thank you, he told the child warmly. But only when he is ready.
And when, "You have my word", floated back to them, he cried in solace as his love and his star held him. Because, even though the boy and his siblings were young, they were special in a way no one else could be. It was a relief to welcome hope again.
******
The call to the living world was sudden and swift.
His love kissed his cheek and murmured a few words in his ear as his existence became lighter and lighter. A gentle tug started in chest and pulled backwards, and he drifted further and further away from their home. Then, with a sudden yank, he was in a circle of chairs, in a damp chamber, and sitting in front of him was his little king.
James laughed elatedly, ecstatic to finally see him in person again, even if it was as a spirit. Seeing him so much older now, James realized just how much time had passed already, how many years he'd missed. He shoved it aside. He could wallow in self pity later.
He didn't pay much attention to the boy's current look, knowing that old bastard had his child's true appearance hidden under a blood glamour. He focused instead on the excitement and wonder and the small amount of fear in his eyes. The fear needed to go, James decided.
"Hello, my little king." His eyes became impossibly wide behind his glasses and James laughed again in delight.
"Oh Merlin," his son breathed in amazement. "It's really you."
James grinned at him. "Of course I'm me. Who else would I be?"
His son laughed, his eyes watering, and the grin softened into a tender smile. James squatted down in front of him and laid a ghostly hand on his cheek, a chill running through his little king's body. James wasn't surprised in the least when his hand didn't go straight through. The necromancer was powerful.
"I've missed you so, so much," he told his son softly, unable to stop the tears filling his own eyes. "I'm so sorry I can't be here with you. You have no idea how much I wish I could."
"S'not like you tried to die," his child said as he wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. "So it's not your fault."
James sighed tiredly. "That's true."
He removed his hand from his son's face and stood up again, finally noticing the seven other teens with him. All of them stared at James in curiosity and he did the same, recognizing each one as he did so. There were two gangly, redheads, Fred and George; the pale, blonde girl with dreamy blue eyes, Luna; another pale-haired teen with pointy features and a haughty air he recognized as Lucius's son, Draco; and the honeyed-skin triplets with the different colored eyes, S�raphin, Aur�le, and R�my. They wore casual clothes, instead of their school robes, and seemed a little weary. James smiled at all of them.
"I've watched all of you and seen the way you're such good friends to my son. You have his family's thanks." His little king groaned, cheeks flushing red in embarrassment as the rest of his friends laughed.
"No thanks necessary," R�my told James warmly and the others all expressed their agreement.
James grinned at the seer before he looked at the necromancer. "You have my gratitude."
S�raphin flushed almost as brightly as his friend at the sincerity in the spirit's voice. "It's no problem. But since we had to do this in the middle of the night, I'm already a little tired so you should tell him before I start to lose my hold."
"Right."
Having to tell his son that his entire life was a lie, even his name... It was hard. James didn't want to hurt him, even indirectly. But he needed to know the truth and it was better to find out now, by his father, instead of in a few years by an inheritance letter.
James could see in his son's eyes that he trusted him, even if he only had vague memories of James before his death. He settled himself on the damp ground in front of his little king's feet, not worried about soaked trousers since he was a spirit. He grabbed his both of his hands and held tight, knowing he would need his support.
He took a deep breath and said, "Voldemort didn't kill me. Lily Evans isn't your mother. And your name isn't Harry Potter. Everything you've been told is a lie started by Dumbledore."
It occurred to James maybe he shouldn't have laid it all on him so suddenly. But being tactful was never his strong point and that hadn't changed in death. His son stilled for a moment, shock and hurt filling his eyes, before he chose to focus the information that was most important him.
"What do you mean Lily isn't my mother?"
James hesitated. He wanted to tell him the whole story. But could he handle it? He thought about all the years of abuse his little king suffered at the hands of those muggles and the subsequent betrayal of the people closest to him, and he smiled. Oh yes, his son was strong.
Just one more question.
"You don't mind your friends knowing?" There was a snort behind him but James kept his eyes on his son.
His little king blinked owlishly and said bluntly, "I'm going to tell them anyway. Might as well let them hear it straight from the source."
James smiled. He'd seen the how close the group of teens were through the fireplace and approved of the friendships. Each of them were trustworthy, all having revealed close secrets to each other at one time or another, even Lucius's brat. His friends were his king's main support system for now and he would need them.
"Once I start, wait until I finish before you ask any questions. That goes for all of you, okay?" He waited until he received an affirmative from them before he began.

******

******
James Sashura Potter was born in the spring of 1979 to Christophe Nolan Potter and Ekaterina Roze Potter n�e Zlatom�ra. He was a charming boy with wild black hair, soulful hazel eyes, and a truly disarming grin. His parents were old by even wizarding standards when his mother finally fell pregnant after decades of failed attempts and miscarriages. For that reason, he was cherished and loved, and his every wish was tended to without fail.
He was well-liked and could charm a charging hippogriff with his silver tongue. Too bad, he used it for the wrong reasons.
Looking back, James admitted he was a horrid and spoiled child. The tantrums he threw were horrifyingly embarrassing for parents and himself, but as long as he got his way, he didn't care. He naively believed in his own superiority over all others, seeing the children who were forced to socialize with him as playthings. It wasn't until James was an outcast at his own ninth birthday did he start to understand other children wouldn't appreciate a bratty snob and even he needed friends.
He quickly and thoroughly changed his ways, and over time, he came to cherish the worth of those he'd foolishly believed to be beneath him.
On his eleventh birthday, James received his acceptance letter to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He was flying high for days. He was finally going to practice magic real and he would make more friends! He couldn't wait and counted down the days for departure eagerly.
Many times as an adult, he wished he could go back in time and reject the offer, like his parents wanted, but no magic was strong enough to accomplish long-term time travel.
On that fateful, first train ride, James befriended Sirius Black. The two eleven year olds quickly bonded over a love of jokes and pranks and soon became joined at the hips, especially after both were Sorted into Gryffindor. It was there they met a bookish, undercover prankster named Remus Lupin. Soon enough, the duo became a trio and the Marauders were formed.
Rats were never meant to join nor were they wanted.
The Marauders pranks were well-planned, effortlessly executed, and safe for all those involved. Every house fell victim at least once a day. It was their own childish attempts at house unity and the source of quite a few smiles in those beginning stirs of war. For James, it would never be Light versus Dark because his parents taught him magic was magic, people were people, and Hecate loved and blessed them all.
He showed the other two Marauders this teaching by example and soon enough his belief was also theirs.
By time James was eleven, little of his former self remained. He was kind and cheerful and popular with the majority of the school, and though he wasn't a genius, he was intelligent enough, with an uncanny knack for Transfiguration. He was more concerned that Sirius's mother was an abusive shrew than with his family being well-known Dark supporters. He hated how Remus suffered under his lycanthropy and resolved to find a way to ease the pain of his transformations, instead of fearing what most would consider a bloodthirsty, mindless beast.
But oh, he defended himself with a ruthlessness most adult Dark wizards didn't possess and he held a grudge like no other when he was wronged. Eventually he realized his magic wasn't Light or Dark but somewhere in between and that was just perfect to him.
Personalities clashed harshly the moment James met Lily Evans. The two fought like cats and dogs and nothing ended the utter contempt both held for the other. The muggleborn was a rude, judgemental, know-it-all who'd never heard the word fun a day in her life. Her best friend, on the other hand, was quiet, intelligent, and most of all, reasonable. Severus Snape was a pale, raven-haired boy, obsessed with potions and knowledgeable about many things the Marauders found fascinating. He didn't get why Sev continued to be friends with Evans given her derisive treatment but guessed he could understand that type of loyalty. It was also obvious Sev didn't have many friends and James made a point to seek out the Slytherin's company whenever it was possible.
It was impossible not to care for, and eventually love, Severus. The biting wit and acidic humor he possessed had a charm of its own and never failed to cheer James up.
His sudden attraction to Evans at fifteen set off the alarm bells in his head. James never had an interest in any girls and it was hard to believe that shrew would be the first he noticed. Eventually, he shrugged it off and went about his business. He would regret it.
James lost a lot that year: his kindness, his humility, his family's teachings, his goals, and worst of all, that lonely, dark-haired teen he once called friend. He would be haunted by the cold fury and betrayal in obsidian eyes for a long time.
******
James Potter eventually lost himself to obsession and cruelty. He didn't know why he needed Lily Evans so badly, only that he did, and he ruined anyone who tried to get his way. When the couple's seventeen birthdays arrived and their Marks weren't a match, James didn't care. Lily Evans was his, and he was hers, and they had the rings to prove it.
Later, he will be thankful for her irrational, muggleborn views on wizarding marriages. There will be no broken contract and loss of magic, only freedom.
Little Harry James Potter was born sickly. His lungs were weak and the problem would more than likely persist into adulthood. Even so, Harry was perfect to James with his bright hazel eyes, wild auburn hair, and angelic giggles. He was the sun in the darkness of James's hazy mind.
It still surprised him how much overflowing love he had for his child. Just looking at Harry made the world a little lighter, a little easier to bear. It was indescribable, the amount he loved his son.
Harry was only four months old when his heart suddenly gave up in his sleep. James raged and cried and screamed at the top of his lungs but it never brought his son back. A large piece of James shriveled up and died with his firstborn. And another piece that'd been broken for five long years abruptly repaired itself, and once again, James was James. He knew in his soul that Harry was responsible and it was one more thing to thank him for when James saw him again.
Evans never cared for Harry when he was still alive, and she never mourned him when he died. As far as James was concerned, Harry was his son and only his son.
From age eleven, James was unknowingly doused with love potions, compulsion spells, various forms of the Imperius Curse, and a Dark curse that mirrored his personality. His will was strong enough to fight them off until he was fifteen and underwent his personality transfer. However, since he was nothing but a mindless puppet for years, Dumbledore and his wife never worried about obliviating him when he found out information he shouldn't have and or holding their tongues in his presence, so he knew all their plans. Dealing with Harry's death was hard enough but to learn how much of a monster he'd become while under the control of a man he always hated with a passion almost broke him. But even shattered and stretched too thin, he began to plot his escape from Lily Evans and Albus Dumbledore. Picturing their torture and deaths in a variety of gruesome ideas made the situation more bearable.
After the realization he'd essentially been raped repeatedly over the past two years, he struggled not to throw up every time Evans came within five feet of him. A Mind Healer would eventually help James with the sheer amount of self loathing, disgust, and disgust he carried on his shoulders. And it took a while but with the support of Sirius and Remus, who'd stuck by him through thick and thin, James was able to face himself in the mirror again and know without a doubt none of events over the past few years were his fault. Needless to say, there was no helping his aversion to women.
Breaking free of Dumbledore's influence turned out to be a lot harder than James thought. All of his Light friends were nothing more than spies for the wizard, and he'd alienated his old friends among the Dark and Grey with his previous behavior. So the only people who could help were Sirius and Remus, who were also pretending to still be under Dumbledore's influence. Actually finding a secure place for all three of them with impenetrable wards was the biggest hitch in his plans. Buying a house and making it Unplottable before putting it under the Fidelius would've been the safest, but most expensive, route. He had the Potter fortune and made good money as an Auror, but all of it automatically went into his vaults, and while normally it wouldn't be a problem, Dumbledore held his vault key, thanks to Evans. There was no way to get it back without alerting him that the gig was up, and James wasn't even sure there was enough money for a one night stay in the Leaky Cauldron, let alone an Unplottable house. It would be another three months before they could finally make their escape.
He wanted to bring Dumbledore up on charges and expose his true nature, but with the current war with Lord Voldemort, few, if any, would believe him. The man had the Light wrapped around his old, wrinkly pinky, and with so many working for the Ministry, there was no guarantee his allegations wouldn't conveniently disappear.
******
The day James Potter's life changed for the better, the rain was heavy, the skies dark grey, and lightning rent the skies in jagged gashes. Contrary to the dreary conditions, he relaxed on the back porch of Godric's Hollow, enjoying the deep calm that one could only get from watching rain fall. No thoughts went toward the missing Sirius, Harry, Evans, Dumbledore or his own guilt, and he breathed a little easier.
Only then did James's mind go blissfully blank and he could temporarily forget the daily shackles that dragged him down.
That calm was unexpectedly broken by a hand clasping his shoulder. His eyes trailed upwards past the large hand, up a muscular arm, and over a broad chest to a handsome face with steel grey eyes whose features were eerily similar to Sirius. Before he could blink, James was Apperated away. And when James learned why Sirius up and vanished so suddenly, he was stunned and then absolutely livid.
Later, he would recall the fluttering in his stomach and the heat filling his cheeks and the beat his heart missed and think, "That moment right there, that was love at first sight."
******
From the moment James laid his eyes on Albus Dumbledore during the opening feast of his First Year, he disliked him. No, he loathed the man. James could tell the wizard was a liar and a manipulator, despite that grandfather facade and those irritating twinkling blue eyes. He rightfully believed anyone who fell for that crap was a fool and would cause trouble. It was for that very reason he made sure he and his friends always steered clear of Peter Pettigrew.
Once a rat, always a rat. Sadly, James would have no choice when he forgot that important fact.
Peter Pettigrew was a devote follower. He fulfilled Dumbledore's orders without hesitation and had no qualms with spiking his housemates food with love and compulsion potions. He also had no issue pretending to be a loyal Death Eater. Or repeatedly hitting Voldemort and his Inner Circle with a curse that caused increasing paranoia and insanity whenever he got the opportunity. Which Dumbledore had started when the Dark Lord and his initial followers attended Hogwarts and then continued with their children. As soon as James impregnated Lily again "under the right conditions" and another child was born and grew to the appropriate age, it would've been Pettigrew who made sure Snape was there when Trelawney "foretold" the prophecy that sent Voldemort after the Potters. And Peter would have been the one to reveal their location to Voldemort.
None of it came as a true surprise to James. If Dumbledore could keep people as a mindless puppets for years, why should it come as a shock that he started the war in the first place?
Sirius accidentally discovered the extent of Dumbledore's schemes when he overheard a conversation between Pettigrew and Dumbledore. When he was spotted, both attacked and he barely escaped with his life. Sirius spent the last few weeks with his father, recovering and waiting for the opportunity to bring James and Remus to Black Manor. Black Manor became a refuge and soon it would be home.
James hated Godric's Hollow as much as he loved it. It was there he'd raised his son for four months but, even six months after, the sound of high pitched giggles haunted him every time he entered a new room.
When Sirius revealed the truth to his best friends, whom he'd technically had kidnapped (and one by his own father, no less), it was the last straw for James. His temper exploded, completely destroying the room the trio occupied, before he broke down. Afterwards, he felt years lighter and, while Harry's death would always hurt, his breath came just a little easier. He was ready to gain control of his life again.
It was hard to grieve for his son and resist the effects of the potions and spells Dumbledore and Lily were still plying him with simultaneously. Honestly, James was surprised he didn't snap and try to kill them or himself. He considered it enough.
It was Orion Black who'd technically kidnapped him from Godric's Hollow. It was also Lord Black who would give James and Remus haven at Black Manor if the Dark Lord approved.
James's numerous memories of fighting Death Eaters were crystal clear. He tried to avoid killing as many as possible, but it was harder to fight the compulsion spells during confrontations, and he slipped once or twice. He knew it wasn't truly his fault but those deaths weighed on him heavily.
Meeting Lord Voldemort was an experience James enjoyed. The man was charming, exceptionally brilliant, perceptive, and quite the conversationalist. His views and goals for the wizarding world also coincided with James's beliefs, which he recollected now that Dumbledore's hold over his mind diminished more every day he was beyond the old bastards. Since Voldemort was once again within his right mind, an agreement between the two was easily reached, and James eagerly handed over all the information acquired while under Dumbledore's oppression in exchange for refuge at Black Manor. It also helped that Voldemort resembled a snake in no way, shape, or form (thank Merlin).
Eventually, James became a sounding board for the Dark wizard since he was one of a few unafraid to tell the powerful wizard whether or not his idea was "absolute horse shit". And Voldemort readily snatched James out of his various self-loathing, pity-parties, often accomplished with numerous cleverly-worded insults. Their friendship was weird but one highly cherished by both.
Lord Black accompanied James to Gringotts a few days later. He'd been free for over a week by then. Chances were that Dumbledore would have a few followers watching Diagon Alley, and neither Sirius nor the Dark Lord wanted him to go alone, incase they tried an ambush. Sure enough, a few idiots disguised as Death Eaters cornered him and the elder Black as they were returning to the Leaky Cauldron. Lord Black handled the quartet without pause and James found himself blushing deeply when silver eyes ran over his body, looking for injuries (or so Orion said).
When James realized he had a schoolboy crush on his best friend's father, a man he barely knew almost thirty years his senior, he freaked out before deciding it would go away if he ignored it. Boy, was he wrong.
The cleansing ritual he underwent to break all the blocks, spells, potions, etc left him physically weak, but otherwise, he savored his freedom. It seemed Evans and Dumbledore barely made a dent in his family fortune, thanks to the spousal limits set up by his ancestors. No matter the number of letters written by James she gave to the goblins, the limit couldn't be increased. The goblins also found it suspicious James hadn't personally come to the bank in years and never responded to their requests for a meeting but continued to send letters by Evans. By law, she was his wife so nothing could be done about the money she'd stolen. And once he'd signed the papers legally terminating their marriage and magically bared Evans, Dumbledore, and his followers from setting foot on all of his properties ever again, James didn't care.
After he moved Harry's body to the family crypt, James avoided the Potter properties. There were too many bad memories associated with a number of them. He continued to stay at Black Manor, much to the delight of Sirius, and unbeknownst to him, Orion.
He soon quit his job as an Auror (which he honestly hated) and concentrated on healing mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. It was slow going at first. There was a lot of hatred, disgust, rage, bitterness to work through and that was just what he felt for himself. He had more than one set back, but day by day, learned to accept the events of the past four years and let go.
******
At age nineteen, Orion Black married loud harpy of a second cousin, Walburga. His parents, never kind to him or his siblings, answered his vehement protests with extended bouts of the Cruitas Curse. He started planning her (preferably grusome) death soon after. It was another nine years until Orion stomached touching her long enough to produce two sons, playful, jokester Sirius and shy, intelligent Regulus. He loved his children more than anything in the world but Walburga was, simply put, a nagging bitch. She was smart enough to sway the current Black lord, Orion's father, to her bed and used him to keep Orion away from Sirius and Regulus as often as possible, frequently sending him away on sudden business trips that lasted weeks at a time. By time Orion took up the lordship, Sirius was fifteen and rebuffed all of his father's attempts at reconciliation. Walburga Black disappeared a year after Orion became lord of the family, never to be heard from again, to the relief of everyone.
The damage was done, and for four years, Orion watched helplessly as his firstborn fought for the Light. He jumped at the opportunity to send his youngest away when Regulus asked to attend a specialised university in Italy. The day Regulus left, Sirius ended up at Black Manor, heavily injured and asking for help.
Accepting his attraction to the elder Black was simple. James found plenty of men aesthetically pleasing so it didn't mean much. What he refused to acknowledge for months were the strong feelings that went right along with it. Orion didn't judge James or see him as weak because he was controlled by Dumbledore for so long. And when Orion quietly told James about his childhood and his marriage to Walburga, the attempts to evade his emotions were futile from that point on. Their courtship began two days later.
Orion was a patient, soft spoken, fiercely protective wizard who possessed a malicious streak miles wide. He couldn't care less about anyone who wasn't his child, his intended, his lord, or a close friend. Unlike himself, who tended to wear his heart on his sleeve, Orion was like a blank slate. But James never doubted the sincerity of his love.
Never during their six month courtship did they see the other's Soul Marks. It was rare to find Marks that matched anymore and only true romantics waited to meet their Bonds. Orion and James were blissfully happy with each other and neither cared about bonds or marks or any of that other predestined crap. Ironically, the two unintentionally Bonded on their wedding night. What could they do but laugh?
When the couple informed their family and friends of the unexpected outcome, galleons were exchanged between more than one person. After he hexed more than half of them, he demanded seventy percent of the profits and brought a nice pair of black dragonhide boots he'd been eying for almost a month.
In December, James discovered he was two months pregnant at his yearly checkup and promptly fainted. Orion was a smug bastard for weeks... until James huffily informed him if he continued to strut like a peacock, he would go join the ones at Malfoy Manor. Sirius gave his barking laugh and even Voldemort found it all highly amusing.
James visited Harry at his family's crypt frequently. It was a way to remind himself that even though his firstborn was no longer among the living, he had lived even if few people knew of him. When James found about his new child, Orion reminded him Harry would never be replaced by his unborn sibling. After that, it was surprisingly easy to accept.
Carrying his second son himself was a horrible experience for everyone involved. His moods changed faster than Voldemort at the height of his insanity. If he wasn't puking up his guts, then he was stuffing his face with the weirdest craving. His back ached, his ankles swelled, and his stomach grew to an astronomical size. By the end, he hated his pregnancy as much as he loved his unborn son, and that just made him cry harder. He wasn't the only one relieved when Vasya Caelum Potter-Black was finally born.
During those eight months, anyone who regularly came into contact with the hormal man learned to duck. Even the Dark Lord. James is more than sure there was a celebration the night he gave birth.
Vasya shared his father's pale skin, steel grey eyes, and that wavy Black hair. He slept often and rarely cried. After his parents, his favorite person in the world turned out to be his godfather, Thomas Marvolo Slytherin, much to the irritation of his older brothers. On nights when neither of them could sleep, James would tell Vasya stories about the grandparents and brother he would never meet but was sure watched over them.
He could never compare his sons. Harry was Harry and Vasya was Vasya and he loved them both ferociously. That's all there was to it.
He spent eight blissful months with his son before he abruptly fell ill. His sickness turned out to be a parasitic curse forgotten six centuries prior. It gradually devoured a wizard's magical core until no magic remained before it turned on the body next, quickly eating away at their organs. The larger the core, the faster it worked, and most victim's died within a few days. If there was ever a countercurse, it'd been lost to the years.
No one ever figured out who cursed James or where it happened. It didn't matter to him; he was already dying. But he found it ironic that this time he was the one leaving his son behind.
James spent as much time with his family and child as possible, brushing off the pained spasms that wracked his body. Before long, he could no longer get out of bed. Merciless pain and the liquid fire in his veins made him delirious. No potions lessened the suffering. It was a measly two days before he succumbed to the curse.

There were many benefits to joining with your soul bond. You shared thoughts and feelings, and when the bond was strong enough, could see through the others eyes. For same-sex bonds, the ability to reproduce emerged. The only downside was the souls could no longer separate. Where one went, the other accompanied, whether in life or death. Weak bonds had days, sometimes weeks, and sound ones had minutes, occasionally hours. Orion had seven minutes to say goodbye.
James woke up in a field of flowers, his beloved right beside him...

_______________________________________________

Sorry! I know cliff hangers are annoying. Sadly, I can only write a certain amount before I veer off from the plot. So please bear with me when it comes to the shortness and sudden end of chapters. Any who, I had fun writing this one. Lots and lots of stuff uncovered and more answers and plans will be in chapter eight. I'll have it up soon (as long as my schedule permits). Vasya means king hence James's nickname. Since I made James's mother a pureblood Russian witch, I decided to give his second son a Russian name.
And in case it's not clear enough, this is the timeline:
Sep 1990, Meets Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Severus Snape & Lily Evans; Potions and spells start
Oct 1994, Potions begin to work
Mar 1996, Marries Lily Evans

Sep 1996, Harry James Potter born
Jan 1998, Harry dies

Jul 1998, "Kidnapped" from Godric's Hollow
May 1999, Bonds with Orion Black

Dec 1999, Discovers pregnancy
May 2000, Vasya Caelum Potter-Black born
Feb 2001, Dies from curse

Hope that helps.
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Au Revoir