Just what friends do

Jack had always wanted things to be better than they were. She could see the potential in the world, and she wanted it discovered. She could see how people and things could be fixed, and she sought the solution. But Jack had been learning something that was very different from her very nature. Yes, Jack had always been a fighter, and had often gone after what she wanted. She had seen what she had wanted for the world, so she had chased the methods that would make it so. She could so clearly see what was needed to improve the lives of her loved ones, so she had sacrificed and worked to do what she could to improve their lives. But reality and experience had taught her that there were some things outside of even her control, and all the good intentions in the world could still spell ruin.

She had been trying to figure herself out in this quieter period of her life. That’s what it had been, really, besides the little mental break down that had led to her three-week escape to Eis Estate. But she had not dealt with death or destruction in a long time, and it was odd, really. The last time had been the battle at the Shrieking Shack, when she had accidentally aided the death of Alexis d’Eath, a death she fully took blame for. In this calm period of her life, she took stock. Why the hell did she cause herself so much trouble? Other people were so content to let the world crumble around them, and she doubted she was different just because of control issues.

Two memories sprung to mind.

Getting her Hogwarts letter had not been icing on the cake of a happy childhood. It had been the only redemption from an unhappy, unfulfilled life. The girl’s family had not been abusive, had not been cruel, they had simply not been there. Had Jack been born into any other family, she would have grown into a loving, affectionate being who was open in her love for the people around her, because that was the person her family had killed with their negligence and lack of compassion. She had lived aimlessly, putting all efforts into chasing anything that made her feel. Her Hogwarts letter had been the first thing to make her feel that had not come from her chasing. It had come to her. It had given her a sense of purpose. And apparently, a sense of purpose could be incredibly addictive.

The other memory was not long after she had decided to do what she could to avenge Vito’s murders. Her name had been Carla Blackwell, and she had been one of the few people to really tear Jack a new one. Jack had thought what she was doing could actually help – go to the families, explain her interest as best as she could, and offer her services. Carla had seen through it. ”You think running errands will make up for that monster killing my sister? You think I will forget Catherine if you help my dad with the roof? I can see it in you – you know who killed her, but you haven’t brought him to justice. You feel guilty. You think a few good acts will erase the fact that Catherine was killed by your friend? You’re sick.” Those words had decided that Jack would never feel good about the sacrifices she made. But she didn’t stop. Because stopping was even less helpful. And she learned that sacrifice brought no glory and no sense of peace or fulfillment. Somehow, that justified everything. If she was lacking in glory, peace, and fulfillment but she was fixing things, she knew she was doing what she was supposed to be doing, doing what Fate had decreed she was to do.

So that was the difference between Jack and those people who quietly drank their tea as the world fell to shit. She found purpose in sacrifice, and she sacrificed for a sense of purpose. It was not a noble reason; it was the only reason she could find.

“Yes. But..........caring for what?”

Jack stared at him. She had never felt like she had a choice in those she cared for. They always came to her, and they had always been limited. If she had been popular, she was certain she would have had more of a choice. But, no, she had a family that wanted nothing to do for her, so when one or two of them stepped from those bounds to tell her she was still family, there was no choice but to love them. In Hogwarts, she had nobody until Chase and Andrew decided she needed somebody, and what choice had she but to love them. Ariel had needed a sympathizer. Vito needed a savior. Nemo needed solace. Sunny needed a home. Charlie needed a bed. Max needed… cheaper rent, she supposed, but he had also needed someone to force him to feel alive.

“We care for the people who need us and for the people that life gives us to love.”

Albus needed people too, even if he would not admit it. She knew, from personal experience, that the people who seemed like they needed no one were often the ones in most need. And even if Albus would not admit it, she could see that he needed someone to care whether he ended up good, bad, or in the ground. Not somebody to argue, or to fight, or to judge, but someone who simply would take note of what happened and let it matter to them. He thought he had needed more, and she was worried that it would mean the end to what could have been a true friendship.

Jack had learned something. And she was finally trying to put it to good use...

“I’ll leave you alone. When I leave, I’ll leave you alone for as long as you want, forever if you want. But you have to know that if you show up on my doorstep, I will let you in. And if I see your name in the paper, I will read the article and I will care about what it says. There will be days where I am busy, yes, but there will be days where I will worry about you, where I will hope that good things are happening to you, and I’ll always be praying to whatever god there is that you find your peace. If it comes to blows, I won’t stop everything if I see you on the other side. But I’ll have your back. And I’ll buy you a drink after. And if you ever need anything, you’d better ask, because I care. I care a lot.” She said this all, almost sternly, because she wanted him to know she was serious. “And you know how stubborn I am. It’ll take a whole lot to make me stop.”

Because Jack had learned that sometimes, she could not get things the way she saw them at their best. Sometimes, she had to accept things as they were, because they needed to be accepted more than they needed to be fixed.

“We care for the people who need us and for the people that life gives us to love.”

It wouldn’t be denied. The smile cracked, baring teeth and stretched lips and happiness that wouldn’t be felt and sorrow that wouldn’t be hidden. Finally, they had come to a point of understanding. Something that she said, and he didn’t deny. So....Albus smiled with all his heart.

“That’s the point, isn’t it Jack?” So harmless, no sound, only breath. Simple, earnest. Almost helpless. He still smiled on. “No one’s needed me yet.”

And that......was the crux of the matter. What his entire life had revolved around. Where it all had first began. From that one birthday party, which he had spent sitting in the corner staring out of the window, watching the sunset. From watching his brother at Quidditch games, to having people staring at his hair and eyes, to clapping his hands at Fred’s newest prank, to helping his mother out in the kitchen and knowing throughout that she was worrying whether James was safe, off on his latest Order escapade. Skulking through the corridors of Hogwarts, making potions at the back of class, reading books about Arithmancy theory alone in the library. Avariella breaking up with him. His graduation dinner, where he snuck upstairs and no one noticed. James vanishing without a trace. Lily staring sullenly at him. His father dying. His mother dying.

”Thank you.” The man with the dark hair and brilliantly green eyes smiled down at him, lifting him up by the armpits and hoisting him onto his lap. Al nestled into the crook of his father’s arms, short arms wrapped tight around his shoulders, clutching protectively at the worn, coarse cotton material of his shirt. It felt so warm.

“Wh-what for?” Al half-stifled a yawn, burrowing further in the small, safe circle of his father’s hold.

“For the flowers. They were very thoughtful, Al.” The roughened, yet gentle voice washed over him. Al smiled, half-shyly against his father’s pocket, the dried petals of the lily pinned against the shirt lapel brushing lightly against his nose.

“Al?”

He tilted his chin up. “Hm?”

Harry smiled. He leaned down and whispered, in all mock seriousness and a bit quietly, as if it wasn’t all joke. “You’re my favourite. You know that?”

Al’s eyes grew wider, “Really?”

“Yeah.” Harry tapped his son on the nose emphatically, then bent down to brush a warm, fleeting kiss against his son’s forehead. Content. “Our little secret.”


It still caught in his throat, like an old-forgotten sore, stinging lightly every time the quiet, playful words whispered in his ear, ”Our little secret.” It had remained a secret, a sepia-tinted, blurry image that seemed more out of a dream than a memory. Even now, he wasn’t quite sure it was real, or a distorted version of repressed subconscious wishes. Because, simply: no one had ever needed him. Not his mother, who had seemed to love him more than life itself, but drew away, gaze averted and pained every time he had come close to embrace her, seeing too much of her dead husband in the shadow of her son. James certainly never had, too busy with school and friends, then war and duty- to care about a sullen, painfully introverted brother. Lily.....trapped in his home, like it were a prison....because it was so for her. Because she’d rather be anywhere else. Because he was the last f*cking option. For everyone. Always.

Avariella. Even Scorpius. Girlfriend, best mate, brother that never was. He had cared for all of them; at some point or another. But they didn’t need him either, in the end. Nor did Hogwarts, or the Wizarding World. Cared enough for their curiosity....their entertainment. Not even vaguely essential. Leftovers at the end of a dish, that was all Albus Severus Potter had been reduced to.

If he ever was anything greater than that.

So he had flung the tainted leftovers back in the Wizarding World’s proverbial face. Hell, he could live without them too.

But those words now......slipping past his ears, hitting his head all together like flurrying hailstones; and drops of rain. She had told him she couldn’t........once upon a time, and he had taken it, chosen to interpret it to be that she didn’t need him too. But maybe that was the mistake. Labels were shit, he knew that. Maybe he had been trying to hard to force one on them, just to grasp for that sense of security......and warmth, again. Maybe despite all stories to the contrary, four letter words beginning with ‘l’ were actually too small a name for what was between them. Maybe he had been the one saying no all the time, instead of her.

Maybe she wasn’t his idealisation. Maybe she wasn’t change. Maybe she was just Jack, no more, no less. And he owed the woman who had taught him all these ‘maybe’s something. Because no matter how deluded, Albus Potter still prided himself on not being an idiot.

So he left the cold comfort of the wall, the grounding effect of stone against his back, the safe blindness that the blaring light of the Muggle tube gave, sparking against his eyelids. He walked forwards. Every step seemed leaden, every inch forward threatening his limbs to give way, his pride to turn round and bury himself in condemnation. Fear still dragged at the bottom of his feet. But he walked, and paused an inch before her; debating. A hug was still too sudden, and painful, that red hair still winking cheekily at him from the corners. But a gesture had to be made.

So his right arm rose, weighed down by rejection and resentment and obstinacy and heartbreak and yes, bruised ego; but rising all the same. Palm sideways, facing outwards. A handshake.

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

Jack had set herself up for failure. One word that she had not considered the weight of, and she was silenced. Because, when it came down to it, she did not need Albus Potter. To be fair, though, as she looked back on her life, she found that she did not need any one person. They had all greatly improved her life, yes, but in the end, she did not need them as they were. She did, however, need people. They kept her safe, and they kept her from sinking beneath the weight of responsibility.

Most of Jack's problems had come from the fruits of being certain that she needed people, and she had always had to cut them loose of the obligation she had forced them into by needing them. She had been lonely in Hogwarts, so she had needed Ariel to want her around. She had felt responsible, so she needed Vito around so she could reform him. She had been floundering alone in the adult world, so she had needed Nemo to help her remember what it was like to have fun. But none of it was need, because someone else would have come along to fill the desire (she still suspected they would not have filled the place as perfectly as those who had become stories in her life) and life would move on.

When it came down to it, Jack had never needed anyone to survive. She had wanted someone to be there when there was no one else. Solitary, independent Jack had wanted someone to be around so she could remind herself that she was not crazy, that she was a human being capable of social contact. It had not been need for them as individuals. She had, however, needed reminders of her own humanity, and she supposed these people fulfilled that lack in her life. If that was the case, then Albus certainly qualified, but, somehow, she didn't think he would think it as the same thing.

If it were true, she hadn't needed anyone, then she wondered who hadn't needed her. Chase and Andrew had wanted her to be their friend, but they had been much better without her there. Ariel certainly had not needed her, because they had been so capable of never seeing each other, without any effort for him side. Nemo had not needed her, he had needed a specialist, and she had been the closest thing to it by the end, but it still had not been enough. Her family certainly had not needed her, ever, and her mother had made it clear anytime Jack might have been capable of forgetting it. Max did not need her. The only ones she could potentially claim had ever needed her were Sunny and Vito, and for almost very similar reasons - they had both needed someone to take care of them, and she had been the closest thing they had to family willing to do it.

The word need required too much, she supposed.

He stood and Jack turned to face him, back facing the bars. Her eyes stayed on his and she did not move. If he was angry, she'd let him be angry. If he was sad, she'd let him be sad. He held out a hand and she looked down at it, before slowly reaching out and gripping it. She shook his hand, keeping it softer than her usual bone-crushers, and nodded. She released his hand and stared at him, just a moment.

So, that was it then.

She turned to the bars, calling to the guard, who hurriedly ran down to release her. She stepped out and the bars were closed between them. She began to walk away, when a thought struck her. She quickly turned around, saying, "Need was the wrong word!" Jack stared at him through the bars, suddenly alight with her own revelation. "Don't- not the people who need you. The people who need you need you for what you for them." That's why it had never worked for her, with most people... they had needed her presence more than they had desired it. She swallowed. "We care for the people who want us. The people who want us despite all the shit we drag up and all the trouble we cause. That's who we care for." She nodded. Here, she would have told him that she was one of those people, one of the people who wanted him around, but instead, she just gave him a small smile. Hoping he'd understand.