Sirius stood at the foot of the Gryffindor boys' dormitory staircase, scanning the bustling common room. Indigo was seated by the fire, chin propped on one hand, flipping through a Herbology textbook. Perfect. The letter tucked safely in Sirius's pocket suddenly felt heavier. He tugged it out, carefully folded it, and glanced around for backup.

Sirius spotted Peter, who was enthusiastically chatting with Mary McDonald. "Wormtail!" Sirius hissed, waving him over.

Peter reluctantly excused himself, scurrying to Sirius's side. "What is it now?" he asked in a hushed tone.

"I need you to deliver this to Indigo," Sirius said, holding up the letter.

Peter frowned. "Why me? You're right here."

"Because he'll know it's from me if I hand it to him! You're the perfect neutral party."
Peter squinted. "Is this about that whole forgery thing?"

"Keep your voice down!" Sirius hissed, smacking Peter lightly on the arm. "Yes, it's about the forgery. Now go."

Peter groaned but grabbed the letter. "You owe me."

Sirius smirked. "I owe you nothing. Consider this repayment for the time I took the blame when McGonagall caught you sneaking biscuits."

Peter rolled his eyes and trudged toward Indigo, who hadn't moved from his seat by the fire. He cleared his throat as he approached. "Uh, Teddy?"

Indigo glanced up, startled, his dark eyes momentarily sharp before softening in recognition. "What's up, Wormtail?"

"Someone asked me to give you this," Peter mumbled, holding out the letter and quickly retreating before Indigo could ask any questions.

Indigo frowned, staring at the folded parchment. The handwriting on the outside was unmistakable: James Potter.

His heart tightened as he opened it, his eyes scanning the carefully penned words.

Evans,

I know we haven't exactly been... great at talking lately. And honestly, that's probably my fault. I've been a bit of a prat, and you've got every right to be mad at me. But I wanted to say—well, I'm not great at this stuff, but I'm trying, okay?

Mum and Dad have been on to me about inviting you to ours for Christmas. They've already written to Lily about you coming, so it's all sorted if you want to come. And you should, really. Mum's convinced the house isn't festive enough, and, let's face it, you're the only one who could actually make it look half-decent.

I know you probably think this is some ploy to smooth things over or whatever, and maybe it is a little, but I just... I'd really like it if you came. It wouldn't feel right without you.

Anyway, think about it, yeah? Let me know soon, so Mum can make enough of her sticky toffee pudding. She'll kill me if you show up and there's not enough to go around.

Cheers,
James

Indigo leaned back in his chair, the letter trembling slightly in his hands. He folded the letter neatly and tucked it into his pocket.

Maybe I'll go, he thought. But James better not make me regret it.

The words from the letter, It wouldn't feel right without you, lingered in his mind, echoing like a soft challenge. Why did it affect him so much? James didn't care about him in that way, did he? They had barely spoken in weeks, and James had been distant, preoccupied with whatever was going on in his own life.

Indigo could still feel the sting of their last conversation. They had always bickered, but the recent silence had cut deeper than any argument ever could. So why now? Why was James asking him to spend Christmas with his family?

Indigo let out a slow breath, trying to ground himself. He was used to being the one who kept his distance, the one who had to adapt to other people's moods, but now, with this letter in his hand, the tables suddenly turned. He was the one being asked. The one who had to decide.

He could almost hear Marlene's voice in his head: Stop overthinking it. Go, and if it's weird, leave. But don't miss out on something because you're scared to try.
Indigo felt a bitter laugh bubble up. Yeah, easier said than done, he thought. But the idea of being with the Potters, of being included in their warmth and laughter—even if it was just a fleeting moment of peace—made something stir deep within him. He wasn't used to being the one invited. Not like this.

What if it wasn't an obligation? What if James really meant it? Indigo couldn't shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, this wasn't some sort of pity invite after all. There was a sincerity to the way the letter was written—James's awkwardness, his honesty, even the little details about the sticky toffee pudding. It felt more real than he had expected.

Indigo looked up at the fire, his thoughts swirling. It was an invitation. A chance to escape the constant tension that seemed to follow him lately. A chance to see something outside the narrow view he'd been forcing himself into.

Maybe he could just go for a few days, the idea growing more appealing. If it's awkward, I can leave. If it's weird, I can make an excuse. But if I don't go...

He swallowed, looking down at the letter once more. The weight of indecision still pressed on his chest, but the invitation seemed to beckon with something he hadn't felt in a long time: hope.

He unfolded the letter again, reading the words over one last time, feeling the pull of them in his chest. Maybe, just maybe, this Christmas could be different.

With a deep sigh, he straightened his shoulders and stuffed the letter back into his pocket. He'd think about it more. For now, the decision could wait.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The next three days passed in a blur, and with each passing hour, Indigo found himself trapped within the same cycle of uncertainty. He had tucked the letter from James away after that first night, thinking it would get easier to decide if he just didn't think about it. But every time he reached for his books, every time he walked through the corridors, his mind wandered back to it.

Should I go?

The question was like a whisper in the back of his mind, a constant pull at the edges of his thoughts. The more he thought about it, the more complex it seemed. The first night after receiving the letter, he had convinced himself it was all just some gesture—a way to be polite. James probably doesn't even care if I show up or not, he had thought. It's probably just his parents wanting to include me.

But then the next morning, the doubt crept back in. What if James is serious? What if he actually wants me there?

And as the days passed, his thoughts spiraled further. Every time he saw James in the common room, a wave of guilt would flood over him. They hadn't really talked in weeks, and when they had, the conversations were awkward, forced. There were so many things left unsaid between them. So many questions he couldn't ask. He wasn't even sure why he felt so conflicted. He barely knew where they stood anymore. Did it matter?

But still, the invitation hung there, waiting for a response, pressing down on him.
Maybe I should just go. It could be nice...
But then the doubts resurfaced again. He wasn't sure if he could handle it. Being in James's world—being around his family—felt like something out of his reach. He wasn't sure if he was ready for it. After all, what did he really have in common with James's parents? What if they didn't like him? What if he was just a charity case in their eyes?

And the worst part was, he couldn't shake the feeling that his presence at the Potter home would be a reminder of all the things that were wrong with his own parents.
By the third day, Indigo was exhausted. He had barely slept, too wrapped up in the mess of his thoughts to focus on anything else. His mind kept replaying the same scenes over and over again. The familiar warmth of the letter. James's handwriting. The sincerity in those simple words. It wouldn't feel right without you.

Just go, he thought finally. What's the worst that could happen?

But then a sinking feeling settled in his stomach. It wasn't that simple. If he went, it would mean confronting everything that had happened between him and James. It would mean stepping into a world he didn't feel like he belonged to. And he wasn't sure he was ready for that. He wasn't sure James was ready either.

With a heavy sigh, Indigo decided he needed to make a choice. He couldn't keep torturing himself over it. He walked back to his room, grabbed a fresh piece of parchment, and slowly started to write.

Dear Potter,

Thanks for the invitation. I've thought about it for a while now, and I think I'd like to come for Christmas. I'm not sure what it'll be like, but I guess I'll find out when I get there. See you then.

Indigo

He read over it once, his heart thudding in his chest. It wasn't a perfect response, but it was honest, and that was the best he could do. He folded the letter, sealed it, and made his way to Sirius, who was lounging in the corner of the common room, flipping through a book with an air of complete nonchalance.

"Hey, Padfoot," Indigo said, holding out the letter. "Can you give this to James for me?"
Sirius looked up with a knowing grin. "What's this?"

"Just... a letter for James," Indigo muttered, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
Sirius studied him for a moment, eyes narrowing. "Something's on your mind, huh?"

Indigo shrugged, trying to hide the nervousness twisting in his gut. "Not really. Just wanted to get this over with."
Without another word, Sirius took the letter from his hand, but instead of walking toward James, he hesitated, an unreadable expression crossing his face. He turned the letter over in his hands, almost as if savoring the moment before slipping it into his robes.

"Thanks, Indy," Sirius said with a small, knowing smile. "I'll make sure James gets it."

Indigo nodded, relieved that it was out of his hands now. He didn't have to think about it anymore.

But Sirius didn't go straight to James, not immediately. No, he waited. He played his part and allowed the plan to unfold. The truth was, Sirius had never intended to give the letter to James in person. Instead, he decided that the first time James would hear about Indigo's decision would be when they were already at the Potter house, and Indigo had no chance to back out.

It was cruel, maybe, but Sirius knew it would be good for both of them—Indigo needed a push, and James needed to stop pretending everything was fine when it wasn't.

So, when the time came, Sirius would reveal Indigo's company as a Christmas surprise.