Trapped

Old Fiat

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and its related characters belong to J.K. Rowling and I have made no profit from this piece.

Summary: James had to get out of the house. Now.

Notes: I wrote this piece a while ago, but didn't post it until now (because, in all honesty, I forgot to). It takes place two months after James and Lily's house has been placed under the Fidelius Charm and sometime before their deaths so Peter has nor yet betrayed them. It also operates under the assumption that they would be forced to remain inside. I hope you all enjoy it. Please review.

Bored. Busy. Tired. Awake. Hungry. Obsessed. Disinterested. Crazed. Trapped.

James paced back and forth in the living room, the cream-colored walls and burgundy sofa blurring before his eyes. His breath came in weird gasps, hitching in his throat and his chest. It was three in the morning and, for the third night in a row, James couldn't sleep.

He paused in front of the window, watching a stray cat scamper under the light of a street lamp and across the road. A car drove past. The night moved outside, but the house was silent. He realized suddenly that he was rocking back and forth a little and quickly stopped himself.

It had been fine at first—James hadn't had a job anyway—except for his work with the Order of the Phoenix—and even if he had, wasn't his life more important than any occupation? Lily had had a bit more trouble. She had been about to take her final test before becoming totally qualified as a Healer, but she hadn't made a single complaint when Dumbledore had first spoken to them about the danger they hadn't known they were in. They had to go into hiding. They had both understood. They had to protect their son.

In the beginning, they thought it wouldn't be too long. Maybe a few weeks, a month at most. Dumbledore hadn't said it necessarily, but they had just assumed...

But even two weeks had been difficult. It was one thing to tell someone to stay inside, day in, day out, for a month, but doing it was quite another matter. He and Lily had bought their home right before they had gotten married—a simple, three-floor house which his parents and her parents had helped him to furnish. They had added their own things as well. They had been ready to start their lives together.

When they had found out that Lily was pregnant, they had been ecstatic. A baby... They hadn't planned for one, but it didn't matter. A baby would suit them perfectly. Lily would carry on with her ambitions to be a Healer, James would hopefully work out what he wanted to do with himself one day—probably after the end of the war—and together they would raise their son.

They named him Harry. James had had to beg Lily to allow him to have Sirius as the godfather, but she had finally agreed. Who better to raise their son in the event of their deaths—which were appearing more and more possible with each day—than the man who was closer to James than any brother could have been? It was all... perfect. More perfect than James had ever thought life could be. They were fighting a war, but they were happy.

And then everything changed. Being imprisoned inside day after day was wearing on James. Two months straight, stuck inside. He was fairly sure that he had read every single book on their shelves now, even the boring textbooks that Lily kept around. It was like all the energy he could've released by just one day out on the town with Sirius was trapped inside him, so he couldn't focus on anything. Or he would obsess over one thing for days on end.

He was tired during the day and sleepless at night. He ate because he was bored and walked around and around the house because—though he would never admit it to his wife—he was nervous about gaining weight. He watched Harry in his cradle, but found that his mind could only focus on other matters.

It was going to drive him mad.

If he could have just one day—just one hour—to walk around outside, to use up some of the energy trapped inside of him, then everything would be fine. If he could just breathe in the fresh air, stare up at the night sky, everything would be alright.

James blinked, pulling himself out of his reverie and turning back to the living room. Was it his sleep-deprived mind, or were the bookshelves leaning just a bit away from the walls? He stared at the sofa for a few moments, his mind blank. Silence pressed in around him.

He had to get out of the house.

He simply had to. If he didn't... well, he didn't know what would happen if he didn't. He just had to leave. He had trapped too long, stuck outside of the action. All of his brain was screaming for him to just step outside, just for a second. Surely just one moment out of doors couldn't hurt anything, could it? He wondered how cold it was, if it was windy. He wondered if he could go and visit Sirius, Remus and Peter, maybe go out for a drink. Just one drink... Surely one drink couldn't cause any harm...

He started across the living room, making his way toward the front hall. He reached the front door, he stretched out his hand towards the handle...

He froze, and then went limp, his hand falling back to his side.

He couldn't leave. Him being seen in Godric's Hollow... It would be suicide. It would bring death to the two people he cared about most in the whole world. How could he even consider...?

Suddenly, he felt exhausted. Turning away from the door, he made his way back up the stairs. On his way back to his and Lily's room, he stopped outside of the open doorway to his son's room.

Pale yellow walls with green trim... He had painted the room the day after he had found out that Lily was pregnant. He had made her stay downstairs with a book and a nice cup of tea or maybe a friend, like Remus or her old friend Mary Macdonald, while he and—if he should be visiting that day—Sirius painted furiously. It wasn't a surprise to Lily what they were doing, and it was never meant to be one. But the colors chosen, the fact they finished it all by the time Harry was born: those were the surprises. The white cot had been purchased the day before Harry was brought home, as well as all the stuffed animals that rested in it with him. The mobile had been a present from Sirius, little silver dragons and hippogriffs to spin over his son's head as he slept...

James looked inside the dark room and was surprised to see Lily leaning over the cot. Her long red hair was pulled back from her face in a loose ponytail and she turned sharply as James entered.

"Oh..." she sighed as she realized who he was. "I'm sorry. I just couldn't sleep."

How had James not noticed the dark circles under her eyes? Or the way her hands had shook over the past few days? How could he have not noticed the way she jumped at the slightness sound? How she, whenever he had fallen asleep for a few moments, had rushed to Harry's bedroom, just to make sure he was still there? But he saw it all now and guilt, that he hadn't seen that she was feeling exactly the same way he was, twisted in his stomach.

James walked closer to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She leaned back against him and the two of them watched Harry as he snuffled a little in his sleep.

"He's beautiful, isn't he?" she asked after a few seconds. He looked down at her, at her smooth pale skin, her bright green eyes and her straight, slightly down-turned nose. She watched Harry sleep with a small smile on her lips, as though she were trying not to laugh. Her smile always looked like that—like laughter, barely hidden under the guise of a smile.

Harry gave another little snuffle and James looked back at him. That tufty black hair, those tiny hands balled into even littler fists... James knew that if Harry looked at him now, he would reveal eyes just as green as his mother's.

Tiny. Perfect. Beautiful.

James rubbed his hand against Lily's shoulder and she shifted her head slightly against his chest. A lock of red hair tickled his jaw and he smiled, closing his eyes..

He never could have risked it. It didn't matter how much this house drove him crazy, how much he ached to go outside... None of it mattered now. He didn't come first anymore, but he wouldn't have wanted it any other way. Having people—people for whom he would gladly give up everything—was more wonderful than a breeze on his face, more wonderful than the feeling of grass touching his feet, more wonderful than a night sky full of stars...

James took a deep breath and smelled the familiar fruity scent of Lily's shampoo. Harry made a strange humming noise and he reopened his eyes. Lily was laughing silently and he caught her eye and grinned as well.

Everything was going to be alright.