literature

When He Told Me

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Literature Text

When he told me his name, I automatically knew we were going to be friends. I didn't think it was a coincidence that we both ended up in Gryffindor. That first night in the dorm felt more like home to me than all the years I lived with my family. By the end of the first week, we were attached to the hip and our names were synonymous with trouble. I'd never really had a true friend before. I wouldn't have chosen anyone else.

When he told me I was his brother, we were sitting together on his bed after having spent all night talking. It wasn't often we had emotional chats and this was one of the rare exceptions where we opened up and spilled everything. Almost everything, in any case. I ignored the clench in my chest and told him that he was my brother too. We'd always be brothers. When he leaned over and hugged me, I tried not to hold on too tightly.

When he told me that she finally said yes, I felt my stomach hollow as I pulled a wide grin. I dragged him in front of the fire and made him sit next to me on the worn sofa.  He asked me for advice because this was his one chance to win her over. I gave him a rundown of the basics as to what would guarantee him access to her knickers. He seemed upset and told me to shut up and that he'd figure it out himself. I stared at his back as he walked over and sat with his Quidditch friends instead.

When he told me he was going to propose to her, he was too excited to stay and celebrate. He wanted to go tell his parents and ask for their advice. So after he left, I celebrated for him. A bottle of Firewhiskey and a shag from the slag next door. I can't really remember much about it. I crushed the phone number scrawled onto a corner of paper in my palm and threw it to the sidewalk as I walked back home. I probably needed to start looking for a new roommate.

When he told me he was nervous about the wedding, I shook my head and told him he was being silly. I reminded him that in a couple of hours he'd see the woman of his dreams walking down the aisle to him. It was corny as hell, but his entire demeanor softened and I knew he was picturing it in his mind. I let my own smile fade briefly and took a moment to steel myself. Giving him a playful shove, I told him to get off his lazy arse and to let me take care of the mess he called hair.

When he told me I was going to be a godfather, my shock kept me silent and still. It was hard to imagine a baby Marauder running around. I felt like we were all still so young...or maybe I was the only one refusing to grow up. He laughed and told me he'd had the same reaction. I smiled and wrapped an arm around him to clap him on the back. I informed him that I got bags on naming the little tike. He didn't like that idea, so we ended up making a bet out of it.

When he told me the baby was coming, the light in his eyes was brighter than I'd ever seen it before. We rushed to St. Mungo's together and I paced restlessly outside the room in wait. When it was over, I walked into a scene so happy I felt like it was wrong for me to be there. When the bundle of cloth was dropped into my arms, I was the third person ever hold it. The baby looked so much like him. I raised my eyes to his and could see the pride in his expression. This was his family.

When I told him I loved him, he was laying lifeless in my arms.
Sometimes I have to accept that canon is canon.

Even if it hurts like a fucking bitch.

EDIT: My friend wrote a companion piece: [link]
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FlowersBreAtH's avatar
:,(
One of the best Padfoot and Prongs things I've read so far. (And I've read like... LOTS!) Even though it's drastically short or maybe because of it, idk... It's so REAL that it hurts. I can deal with over-dramatic quirks in fanfiction because, hey, it's just a story, up to the next one, but you can't deny the realness that's in this one, because, as you said, it's (almost... or maybe completely, we'll never know ;)) canon.
And it KILLS me.
Which is weird because actually Harry Potter is also "just a story". But - you know.

greetz