"Mum? Dad... can we talk?"
James hovered in the doorway to the sitting room, suddenly feeling ridiculous.
He'd rehearsed this conversation half a dozen times. On the walk home from Diagon Alley. In the shower that morning. Lying awake the night before, staring at the canopy above his bed.
It shouldn't have been difficult.
Everyone at Hogwarts knew, or at least suspected. Sirius knew. Remus knew. Peter had simply shrugged and said, 'Good for you, mate.' Even the girls had taken it in stride.
But somehow telling his parents felt different.
Euphemia looked up from the pale blue scarf she was knitting, immediately setting it in her lap.
Across the room, Fleamont simply hummed from behind his newspaper, acknowledging James without looking up.
James shoved his hands into his pockets before thinking better of it and pulling them back out again.
"I'm..." He sighed. "I'm bisexual."
The words hung in the room.
"And..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I've sort of started seeing someone."
He could feel his pulse in his ears.
For one long second, neither of his parents said anything.
Then Euphemia's face brightened.
She smiled so warmly that James felt some of the tension leave his shoulders.
"I'm so happy for you and Sirius."
She looked at him as though she'd said the most obvious thing in the world.
She glanced toward her husband.
"We always knew you would end up together, didn't we, Monty?"
Fleamont lowered the newspaper just enough to peer over the top.
"Hm? Oh, yes," he nodded once. "About time, honestly."
Then he returned to reading.
James simply stared, "What?"
She looked genuinely crestfallen.
"Well... that's a shame."
James let out an incredulous laugh.
"You've always been so sweet together."
"Mum, he's my best friend."
She gave him a look that suggested she found that statement deeply unconvincing.
"You've been inseparable since you were eleven."
"So," she continued patiently, "every holiday he's here more often than he's ever at Grimmauld Place."
"You practically live in each other's pockets."
"You used to write each other every day during the summers when you were younger."
"We liked writing letters."
"You sit so close together on the love seat that there's room for another person."
"We... didn't notice it at first," Euphemia admitted with a soft laugh. "But somewhere around your third or fourth year, it became rather obvious."
"The way you looked at each other."
She smiled fondly at the memory.
"Sirius would walk into a room and you'd light up before he'd even spoken."
James felt heat creeping into his cheeks.
"And whenever one of you laugh, the other is already smiling."
"You always reach for each other without thinking."
She picked up her knitting again.
"Hands on shoulders. Leaning against one another. You steal each other's food. Half the time you fall asleep on this very sofa after staying up all night talking."
A small smile crossed her face.
James had no idea what to say.
He'd never thought about any of those things.
To him, that was simply... Sirius.
Euphemia tilted her head.
"So naturally, when you came in here looking terrified and announced you had something important to tell us..."
"...we assumed you'd finally worked up the courage to tell us you were together."
James rubbed both hands over his face.
"I can't believe you've thought this for years."
"Oh, darling," she said gently, "parents notice far more than their children think they do."
He looked toward his father.
Fleamont finally folded the newspaper onto his lap.
"Your mother and I did have one disagreement."
"We couldn't decide whether the two of you already knew you were in love or were simply too dense to notice."
"Oh, don't look so embarrassed."
"I am not in love with Sirius."
"Well then," he rested his forearms on his knees. "If not Sirius... who is the lucky young man?"
Somehow saying the name felt harder than admitting he liked blokes.
Both of his parents looked mildly surprised.
"Sirius' brother?" Fleamont asked.
Euphemia's surprise lasted only a moment before another warm smile spread across her face.
"What were you expecting?"
Instead, Euphemia reached over and squeezed his hand.
"When do we get to meet him?"
James looked between his parents, completely bewildered.
"I spent the better part of a week worrying about this conversation."
"You should've spent that week worrying about whether Regulus likes you as much you like his brother."
James felt his face grow impossibly hotter.
His mother simply smiled.
