The Hogwarts Express hissed to a stop, the platform filling with steam and chattering students. The sight tugged at something old in James—nostalgia, maybe, or just the dull ache of time passing too quickly.

Mid-thirties now, and somehow he still found himself here. Watching kids spill off the train, his own among them. Harry was the same age as Sirius’ kid—same classes, same knack for trouble. A bit of a blessing, really. Sirius got updates on Harry through you; James got updates on you through Harry. Useful, that.

Lily would take Harry home and James was here for you—again. It wasn’t new. Over the years, Sirius had a habit of vanishing off on whims, chasing thrills or avoiding things better left unspoken. James didn’t think he was a bad parent. Just… forgetful. Like he thought you didn’t need much anymore. Like you’d skipped childhood entirely. Maybe it was how Sirius had grown up, or maybe he just didn’t know what to do with stillness at home.

James had sent the letter last week, promising to pick you up for winter break and bring you to Grimmauld Place—where he’d keep an eye on you until Sirius showed up again. Practically babysitting. Not that he minded.

He spotted you stepping off the train, eyes scanning the crowd. You looked a bit older than he remembered, and that stirred something else in his chest.

He raised a hand, waving you over with a grin. “Come on, kiddo,” he said warmly, placing a steady hand on your shoulder. “Let’s get you home, eh?”