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“The worst thing about family portraits is that I can see what happens with me between every photo.” Remus looked up at his friends, who had sombre expressions painted on their faces.
“At least,” Sirius said slowly, “you aren’t trying to escape your family portraits.”
Remus jerked his head in his direction.
“That’s what I have tried to do in every single family portrait since I was five.” Sirius glanced down at his lap and then held a photo up, a part of it burned. “My… brother… Reg… he gave this to me… Mother burned me off it, and ordered him to give it to me, to let me know that I had dishonoured the family and I was no longer a Black.”
Remus reached out and gently touched Sirius’ hand.
“You are better than any of them.”
“They don’t understand what they lost,” Peter whispered and Sirius gave a faint smile.
“Doesn’t it say it all, that the portrait version of you wants to run?” James glanced at Sirius before shaking his head. “Even he knew something was wrong.”
Sirius looked sullen, but the other three knew that they just had to keep the conversation going.
“What about yours?” Remus quickly glanced at Peter, who replied with a shrug.
“Oh. They are traditional. But we only take them every five years, so… a lot happens in between.”
“I bet yours are a grand display of how much they love you,” Sirius said in a low voice and looked at James.
“You mean, everything is up to me or so?”
Sirius nodded.
“That, my dear Pads, is incorrect. The family portrait is a very big deal to my folks,” James replied and caught a loose thread of his robes. He glanced up at them and shrugged. “It always has to be just… perfect. Like, no wrinkles on the robes, no hair sticking out, which both my Dad and I find highly irritating. Even Sleekeazy is on a difficult task there.”
James gets up from the floor and walks over to his bed to find the album, he brings it home every time to get updated photos in, and walks back to the others, sitting down heavily.
“Dad used to tickle me, to make me smile at the camera because I was so frustrated about my hair being all slicked up. Like here,” he turned the album around and the others leaned close. “They took the photo and made sure that one would be like a muggle portrait, unmoving, while this would be moving as a wizardry one.” Sirius smiled at the sight of a squirming James in his father’s arms, being held close as he laughed visibly. But Sirius let his eyes wander to watch Euphemia Potter’s reaction to it. She had a small smile at the beginning, where James hardly moved, but as he laughed harder, her smile widened.
That would never have happened on a Black Family portrait.
Remus took another portrait slowly and smiled up at James. James had scaped both his knees, was holding his broom, and looked extremely proud.
“What’s the story here?”
James smiles and shakes his head slightly. “I was… seven. I had gotten the broom the day before, and I refused to let it go. So… I went up early, went outside and on my broom. Got up, as far as it would go, and waam. I was diving and didn’t know how to pull up from a dive so… slammed into the ground and luckily bent my legs so I only scraped my knees. Mum was furious.”
“You look happy though?” Remus asked gently.
“I was. I was so proud. Mum was angry as hell,” James grinned, “hence why she didn’t want me to play Quidditch. ‘He’s the only Potter to bring the name forward, Flea, you cannot be serious!’” He mocked, imitating his mother’s voice. “You know how she was convinced that I could play?”
“I think you told us,” Peter replied.
“My Dad reminded her who had played Quidditch of the two of them. And it wasn’t him.”
“Your Mum?” Sirius looked shocked, having forgotten that fact.
“My Mum. So she and Dad had a very long conversation and decided that I should bring my broom as we began 2nd year. Best decision in my opinion.”
“You almost live on that broom of yours,” Remus replied.
“Want me to help you with that, by the way? You seem scared of no one, and the broom senses it.”
“At home, not here.”
“Or in the forest. No one sees us there,” Peter agreed.
A soft knock was on the door to their dormitory. They quickly glanced at one another, doing their silent “did we say something?” checkup and Remus called out: “Yes?” The door was pushed open slowly and Lily entered their room.
“Professor McGonagall asked me to find you and order you to go to Professor Dumbledore’s office right now.” She looked worried, James noticed, as her gaze moved downwards.
“Did she say why?” Sirius asked, but was getting up as he asked.
“No. Just that you needed to go there now.”
“Thank you, Lily,” Remus replied and with Sirius help, he got up. His body was sore because of the moon being close, and since they had turned animagi for him, they had been more aware of how his body behaved around the moon.
“Did we do something to cause trouble?” Peter asked and looked between them.
“We have done enough to get called to the Headmaster's office,” Remus replied and leaned against Sirius as his body stretched out.
“Old Dumbly might just want to ask us to tone it down. Or bring up the Christmas spirit!” James grinned and moved over to Remus, bent down slightly and gestured for Remus to get on his back.
“You can’t…”
“I can, and I will. I won’t accept a no.”
Remus nodded and climbed up on James’ back, and with Peter in front, making people move away from the stairs, and Sirius behind them, they moved out of Gryffindor Tower and towards Dumbledore’s office.
As they reached the gargoyle they stopped and waited. They knew the drill by now. Somehow, Dumbledore knew when they got there and made it possible for them to get past the gargoyle and into his office.
Sirius knocked on the door as he came up behind the others and the door instantly opened for them. They looked inside and…
“Mum! Dad!” James called and Remus quickly got off his back and let him run to his parents. “Everything alright?” he asked as he hugged them close.
“Everything is fine, dear,” Fleamont replied, “we just wanted to ask Albus a favour and he obliged.”
“Oh?”
“We wanted a family portrait for the Christmas card this year. With all our boys.” Euphemia caught Sirius’ eyes, and slowly Sirius understood the meaning of it.
“You… You want… You want me on the Christmas card?”
“We officially adopted you,” Fleamont replied, “the Blacks still refuse to give you up, but in the eyes of the law, you are now a member of the Potter family.”
Sirius just stared at them, eyes wide and mouth open.
“They dishonoured you, as you told us they had, but… They still want you to have no claim to any other families than the Black.”
“Remus and Peter?” James asked, trying to divert the attention from Sirius, to give him a chance to collect himself again.
“We thought we would like an updated photo of the four of you if that would be alright?” Euphemia asked and looked at the other two, who instantly nodded. “But maybe the portraits need you to be better dressed? Can we come back tomorrow, Albus, and get it done, or is it interrupting the daily life too much?”
“I think we can arrange that, Effie,” Dumbledore replied and moved closer, “and whatever location you might like can be sorted as well. As long as I,” he smiled at them, “get one of those Christmas cards.”
“Of course,” Euphemia replied.
Sirius moved now, hurriedly across the room, and wrapped his arms around Euphemia, who instantly returned the embrace. She knew, just as the others in the room, and maybe even more than most, how much Sirius needed this kindness.
“Thank you,” Sirius whispered.
“You deserve the world, Sirius,” Fleamont said and patted his shoulder, “we are just trying to give you what you should have had already.”
***
James placed the two portraits inside the scrapbook and smiled. They were both perfect. The one of the boys was taken outside, the Whomping Willow behind them, covered in snow. Sirius was jumping in it, Peter grinning while he slipt, Remus waving enthusiastically, and James was all smiles, jumping, waving and appeared to be slipping. It was so fitting. And that abnormal long scarf Sirius had, which Remus also seemed to have, was as if they tried to form a heart, connecting the two.
It was just… right.
And the other. It was more styled of course. His parents had chosen red as the dominant colour, and his mother’s dress was so beautiful on her. It sparkled, just like her eyes. His father’s robes were more traditional but were the perfect outfit for his mother’s.
James had chosen a red oxford and gold tie, but had given up on trying to make his hair look the way his mother wanted. She had also given up on that. And next to him, behind his parents, was Sirius. Sirius, who smiled proudly in the camera, his eyes filled with awe as he glanced between the other three. He had chosen a white oxford and red vest, way more casual than it would have been with the Black family.
James, who looked straight in the camera, but turned to wrap his arm around Sirius with a big grin on his face, while his parents smiled even more.
This… This was the family portrait they had needed.
This was the best family portrait the Potter family had ever made.
James took his quill and wrote under the new family portrait “My family” and under the one with the Marauders “My brothers”.