𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄
chapter twenty-one; Magic Jam Pancakes And Top Shelf Alcohol
" I can't promise you that it won't be hard, I can just promise you that you'll never have to go through it alone. "

  SALEM TOOK HER time getting ready on this particular rainy March day. She dared to put on eyeliner and changed her earrings four times. Her red locks protested against how many times she'd fidgeted with it, but Salem finally seemed pleased with it after what felt like hours.

  The stairs leading to the ever-glowing Gryffindor common room seemed more daunting than ever before. Salem let out a long breath before propelling herself down them— she'd skipped enough classes, granted she'd been studying like hell, it was a bad habit she had to kick.

  She had to stop running.

  "Hi," Salem greeted nervously, making the four marauders who were splayed across the furniture look up. "Good morning?"

  "Morning, Sal," Peter smiled, making Salem let out a visibly shaky smile, "Want to sit?"

  "I was actually going to grab breakfast," Salem informed reluctantly, her eyes lingering on James who'd taken to resting his chin on the back of the sofar and gazing up at her.

  How badly she wanted to tell him to knock it off, to stop making her fall for him by simply existing.

  "Sirius," She cleared her throat, looking to the boy, "Unless you're busy, I was hoping we could talk."

  "Not busy at all," Sirius smiled kindly pushing himself out of the chair that was left indented, "Though, you'll have to share your magic jam pancakes."

  "Magic jam pancakes?" 

  "It sounds gross," Sirius defended, holding a finger up, "But once you've tasted them, it's all you'll ever want to breakfast."

  "So what are they?" James asked, his words mumbled from not lifting his chin off the couch.

  "That's the worst part," Sirius whined, "She won't tell me."

  "Because they're my pancakes, not yours," Salem crossed her arms, glaring lightly at Sirius.

  "I'm sensing a long-standing argument," Remus laughed.

  "I wouldn't say argument—"

  "I would," Salem cut Sirius off, smiling sarcastically, "Alright, come on."

  "So bossy."

  "Sirius."

  "Fine."

  The humor seemed to fade out the further Salem and Sirius walked from the common room. Like the comfort between them that had come after a long and rocky road, was so quickly wiped away just as it began.

  "I know what you're going to say, Sal."

  "No, you don't," The redhead mumbled, "I don't even know what I'm going to say."

  Sirius shook his head, concealing a small smile as his feet became glued to the ground, gently pulling Salem to a stop, too. 

  "I'm not breakable, Salem."

  "Everybody is," She frowned deeply, "And you don't deserve to be broken by me. I was so terrible—"

  "You weren't."

  "But the reason I did things," Salem stressed, briefly cupping her face in her hands, "I just— I want you to know that I do admire you as a person, okay? I do think you're funny and kind and, despite being an idiot, one of the best people I've met. But I think that I haven't felt that way towards anybody in my whole life, and I don't want to make any excuses— I am so sick of making excuses— I took advantage of it. You were the way out of Potter finding out who I was— I was, and am still trying so hard not to be, terrified of him putting a face to everything I said. I am so, sorry."

  Sirius Black thought he may cry. But he didn't want to, and he knew he couldn't speak, so he pulled Salem into the sort of hug he'd pull his best mates into. She was a bit shorter than any of them, not to mention she smelled sweetly of flowers which opposed greatly to either sweat or cologne soaked boys. 

  And Salem hugged back, without hesitation or reserve. Sirius felt her hands grab into the fabric of his robes, no longer afraid of connection. 

  "I'm really glad you're in my life," Sirius said quietly, "I forgive you, Sal. I did something so long ago that didn't deserve forgiveness, and somehow, in spite of that and everything, you let me in."

  "I think you've become my best friend."

  "How tragic for you," The boy joked, smiling at Salem's small laugh, "James and I talked a bit last night. . . we all messed up but none of us want it to end what we built."

  "You two are so different than you were in third year."

  "Thank Merlin."

⥊

  Roman Mayes never thought he'd be happier than the day Salem wanted him to be her dad, not just some guy she visited time to time, but when she wandered into the Three Broomsticks with a small but mighty smile, he was proven wrong.

  "Hey, Smiley."

  Her grin grew.

  "It's nice to see you happy like this," Roman spoke, leaning on the bar, "Do you want a drink?"

  "Absolutely, Firewhiskey, please."

  "Let's not get ahead of ourselves," The man chuckled, pouring the girl a foamy glass of Butterbeer.

  "No, sir, top shelf only for me!"

  Salem smiled as she sipped the butterbeer.

  "So," Roman drawled out, "What's got you in such high spirits?"

  "Don't worry, I won't be contagiously optimistic forever," Salem pointed, "I'll revert to my charming, cynical persona in no time. But the past months have taught me a lot, and I'm finally willing to listen. It got too much, you know? There are things I still have to deal with, stuff that's happened to me doesn't just go away, but you're here and Sirius apologized and James bloody Potter knows everything I hate about myself and still cares about me, and I think I've had enough anger and moping for a lifetime."

  "Well, damn, I should've given you Firewhiskey."

  Salem's face split into a grin, which morphed into a laugh when Roman lied through his teeth about not having the alcohol— and proceeded to hide the bottle on show.

  "So, now it's the other boy?"

  "It's always kind of been the other boy," Salem admitted, resting her hands around her cup, "I was shitty and took advantage of confused feelings. . . but I guess it's all about everybody staying together— not ending friendships, and, for whatever reason, I'm included in that."

  "Because you're a good person, Sal, and it makes sense. If there are little to no hard feelings, doesn't everybody want to be happy?"

  "Mm, maybe I have a bad point of view on these sorts of things," She sighed, "I'm new to the whole. . . having friends thing."

  "What? You've been friends with us for months!" Rosmerta announced as she emerged from the back of the establishment, wiping her hands on the skirt of her dress.

  "Friends my age," Salem corrected with a smile, "Though, you'll always be number one in my book, Rosy."

  "Ha!" Roman clapped as Rosmerta grimaced, "The nickname catches on!"

  "Please, no."

  "It's a good nickname!"

  "It's not because of my name, no matter what this man says," Rosmerta pointed to Roman, "It's teasing that I blush easily."

  "Aw, mean."

  "Not mean, funny," Roman denied to Salem, who simply shook her head.

  It was nice being happy, Salem decided as she took another sip of the drink. Even though Rosmerta made fun of her accidental foam mustache, and Roman couldn't stop laughing even as he helped other customers. 

  Her head felt like a brighter place, after being so dark for so long, she'd carried so much weight her entire life and it had been lifted. Not entirely, perhaps, but enough so that no lingering thoughts danced in the back of her mind as she began telling Rosmerta about James and the new prospect of romance.

  "The man of the hour," Roman clapped his hands, flashing even Rosmerta a grin at the sight of James entering the pub, "James Potter himself."

  James let out a forced laugh, sticking his hands in his pockets as he approached the bar.

  "Hey," Salem smiled lightly, which made James forget about everything for a brief, blissful moment.

  "Hi," He smiled right back, almost forgetting himself and putting an arm around her.

  "'Scuse me," Roman mumbled, watching a patron slowly approach the bar, "Don't do anything crazy."

  "We will!"

  Salem laughed at Roman's playful glare, before turning in her seat to face James. And then she noticed something was off. 

  Her heart dropped at first, thinking James was there to tell her he'd changed his mind and didn't want to find out what loving her was like, but she pushed this out. The ingrained insecurity, the conditioned fear— Salem swallowed it with a deep breath because James cared about her.

  He cared about her, and that was a fact she just had to accept.

  "What's wrong?"

  His pools of amber met hers— James's eyes were so sad. There was no better word to describe the sudden depth of them, just to the core, gritty, sad.

  "My parents are sick," James posed it as if it were a question, brows furrowed in confusion at the confession like he himself wasn't sure if it was the truth.

  "Oh, James."

  "You called me James."

  "It slipped out."

  "It was nice," He admitted, hanging his head for a moment, "The letter came today, Dragon Pox. They're already old—"

  "Well, that's not nice."

  "What if they never get to meet you?" James asked in a new wave of sadness, "I don't know what I'll do when they're. . ."

  "Hey," Salem spoke quieter, grabbing his hand before thinking about it, "Don't get ahead of yourself, they're still here. Don't waste this time falling into a hole wondering what tomorrow will bring. Cherish it. Write to them and this summer, I'll come meet them. And I'll be extremely nervous and I'll let you make fun of me for trying to impress them, and we'll take it one day at a time, okay, Potter?"

  James nodded with a tight expression.

  "You have a support system for now until forever," She continued, "Sirius, Remus, Peter, Lily, me, we all care about you so much and we're here for you. And we'll take care of you, and I'll help you take care of them if that time comes— whether we're friends or more, I'm going to be there. I can't promise you that it won't be hard, I can just promise you that you'll never have to go through it alone."

  Now, nothing could fix the fact that James knew his parents were dying. It would break his heart, he knew it would, but the reminder that he wouldn't be left in an empty home all on his lonesome did something. Maybe it was hope or happiness or purely the fact that Salem was chasing away his childhood fear of being alone, but suddenly his heart didn't feel like ten tons— maybe eight or nine, but that smidge lighter made all the difference.

  "So, James, what are your intentions with my daughter?"

  "Such a bad time, Dad," Salem whined, but she'd be lying if she said she wasn't thankful for Roman's intrusion when she heard James laugh.

  "It appears I have a gift for that," He smiled, "Is everything okay?"

  "I sure think it's going to be," James answered in Salem's silence. "You have a great daughter."

  "Yeah," Roman smiled at Salem, who was blushing under the attention from both males, "I know."

( AUTHOR'S NOTE. )
SALEM GERARD IS 
HEALING AND SHE
DESERVES IT.
I've made it such
a huge point to
accurately portray
how sal has been
affected by all the
emotional trauma
she's gone through,
and I'm going to put
just as much effort
into her recovery :)
On another note,
I'm not sure where
this story will end
because now it feels
wrong ending it at 
the end of seventh year. . .
Maybe it'll end on
The Halloween night?
Ooh ominous, will
it be completley AU? Will it 
be canon? Will
it be a mixture???
INTRIGUE