Till Forever Falls Apart

Cornwall, England
Autumn 1979

The sun hung high above the horizon, casting golden light across the rippling waves. The salty breeze whispered through James Potter's hair, tousling it as he walked along the coast, his bare feet sinking into the warm sand. The water lapped gently at his ankles, the ocean stretching endlessly before him, vast and unknowable.

It had been four days since the war ended.

Four days since the Order had fulfilled its purpose, since the final battle had torn through the wizarding world, leaving victory in its wake. Voldemort had been rendered mortal—Regulus had completed Aurora's mission, had destroyed the Horcruxes that made him untouchable, and in the end, the Light had prevailed.

James had celebrated. He had laughed, he had raised toasts, he had embraced his friends and cried with them, sharing in the relief of a world finally free.

But it all felt hollow.

Because Aurora wasn't here to see it.

The cost of this war felt too much, too impossible to bear, and James knew he had to do this.

He stopped walking, letting the waves curl around his ankles before he lowered himself onto the sand. The world around him was quiet, save for the rhythmic crash of the tide, and the slow breath of the ocean. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a letter, the parchment soft and worn at the edges from where his fingers had traced over it countless times since Regulus had given it to him.

He inhaled deeply, then unfolded it, the elegant, familiar scrawl bringing a fresh wave of grief crashing into him.

Dear James,

If you're reading this, then I suppose I'm gone.

And I hate that. I hate that I won't be there to see you grow old, to hear your laugh when you prank Sirius for the hundredth time, to watch you become the man I always knew you would be. I hate that I won't get to dance with you in our kitchen at midnight or wake up to your ridiculous hair sticking in every direction. I hate that I won't get to love you the way I wanted to. The way we deserved.

But I need you to understand something, my love—this was necessary.

I don't want you to think I was fearless. I wasn't. Merlin, James, I was terrified. I was so scared of what would happen, of what I was walking into, of how much it would hurt. But I was never afraid of dying. No, the only thing I was ever truly afraid of was leaving you.

But I had to. I had to do this, for Regulus, for you, for a world where little boys don't grow up under the shadow of a monster, where girls don't have to choose between family and freedom.

And for you, James. Always, for you.

Because you are the best thing that ever happened to me.

Thank you, James, for every laugh, for every smile, for every beat of my heart because know that it was for you. Every breath I took was for you. All for you.

Loving you was like flying—free, exhilarating, like touching the sky with my fingertips. It was the kind of love that made me believe in something bigger than fate, bigger than destiny. If I could have written my own ending, I would have chosen you, in every lifetime, in every world.

But the universe was cruel. And we ran out of time.

I know it is incredibly selfish of me to ask but... can I live through you?

You know all my dreams, James. I used to whisper them to you when I thought you were asleep. I wanted to see the Northern Lights, to ride a dragon, to dance until my feet gave out. But my biggest, most beautiful dream was you.

And I can't have you in this life. But if you live, really live, then maybe, just maybe, I'll have some solace.

So live for me, James. Laugh the way you used to, love with that reckless heart of yours. Find joy in the simplest things—morning Quidditch, honeydukes chocolates, running in the rain. And when you do, know that I'll be there, somewhere between the raindrops, in the warmth of the sun, in the hush of the wind.

I'll be with you, always.

And if there's a world where we meet again, James, I'll wait for you there.

I love you, more than the stars, more than the sky, more than this fragile, fleeting life could ever allow.

But for this life, goodbye, James Potter.

Forever yours,

Aurora

James exhaled sharply, his vision blurring as he clutched the letter to his chest.

He tilted his head back, staring up at the sky, blinking furiously against the tears burning his eyes. Why did you have to leave so soon, love?

We had so many dreams, so many hopes, so many things we planned to do together. We were just kids.

A ragged breath escaped him, and he let his eyes fall shut. Perhaps we'll meet in the next life, and every lifetime after that, because I will love you forever, even if forever isn't enough.

He reached for the bouquet beside him—carnations, her favorite. He ran his fingers over the petals, swallowing against the lump in his throat, before kneeling at the edge of the water.

The waves lapped at his knees, cool and steady, as he gently set the flowers upon the surface. The tide pulled them away, carrying them further, further, until they disappeared into the endless blue.

James watched them go, his fingers curled around Aurora's ring, his heart aching in a way he knew would never truly heal.

"For this life," he whispered, voice trembling, "goodbye, Aurora Black."

And as the wind howled and the ocean stretched wide, James Potter let her go, even as he knew he would never stop searching for her in every star-strewn sky to come.