ever since his sixth year at hogwarts, james fleamont potter had known he wanted to fight in the war front. the older he’d got, the more he’d realized just how involved his parents were in it; just how bad it’d gotten.

because of this, it was no surprise that he had pledged himself to dumbledore’s side for the greater good the moment he was old enough to. he had the drive, the pure heart, the dedication to be a great soldier, while he also knew how to work a strategy, considering his years spent as the quidditch captain of the gryffindor team. he was the model wizard for the cause…

…which sucked for you, his partner. he was gone often from the small home you had invested in upon graduation, and when he returned he sported bruises or injuries more times than not. it was hard, to have him leave without knowing whether he was alright or not- he sent owls, sure, but there was always the chance he wouldn’t return.

it was christmas, and james had been gone for almost a month, his last owl having arrieved earlier that week with a vague message and no mention of whether or not he’d be returning home. it was worrying, the lack of communication.

outside of the small home, snow dusted the streets and clung to the windows, the sharp contrast of the cold outside and the warmth from the inside fogging up the windows.

fleamont and euphemia were over, along with a few other friends, just to make the house seem less empty. they hadn’t wanted you to spend christmas alone. both his parents helped you worry over the setup of the table and the food that was being brought over when there was a click from the entryway.

when you peeked around the corner, james was there.

his dark curls were dusted with snow like powdered sugar. frost clung to his lashes and reddened his cheeks. he still wore his travelling robes, and a bruise tainted his cheekbone.

he reached up to wipe off his glasses, offering a crooked smile.

“hey, love.”