Drinking away Reality || OPEN

[James Potter]

So James couldn't know the details. The was expected, yet still disappointing. Sometimes James thought knowing things, or sharing secrets between him and his dad would make them somehow closer. The thought of it being an intelligence mission though, made James feel a little better. Not only would he not know what was going on, but also pretty much everyone would have no clue. His mum didn't even know, apparently. James cringed internally, thinking of how his mum would react if she did find out. She'd start a knew collection of heads along the wall in their home at Grimmauld Place... and they wouldn't be the heads of house elves. He made a motion of zipping his mouth closed and tossing the imaginary key over his shoulder.

The change of tonality in his dad's voice worried James a bit. This didn't sound like some everyday mission. James shook his head, trying to rid his mind of the thoughts. But the more his father talked about the dangers, the harder it got to divert his anxieties. He wondered what kind of information he was looking for, and from whom. It irked him hat he couldn't even know that. Apparently Ted knew, sparking a very small amount of jealousy. That quickly faded when James remembered that Ted was indeed an auror himself, and was allowed to know these things. And with his long history of knowing Ted, James knew he was a trustworthy guy.

James' breath got caught in his chest at the mention of his father and something happening to him. Nothing could happen to Harry. It wasn't allowed to. I wasn't possible. James' dad is one of the greatest wizards who ever lived. How could he be worrying about something happening to him? And then James heard that he would be left to take care of his mum and siblings. It didn't feel real to hear those words. When he was younger, everything seemed so easy. Now that he was older and could understand more, life was more complicated. Part of him wanted to be a kid again, because being seventeen seemed too hard.

This was his last year at Hogwarts. The only place safer than his home. Then James had to venture out in the real world, and deal with real word problems like his dad's. He thought for a moment; James didn't know what he wanted to do after he graduated. He could do pretty much anything really, because he was taking N.E.W.T.s in all his classes. With all of his curiosity about his dad's job, maybe James could work for the ministry. He wasn't so sure he'd make an excellent auror, but maybe something in that area.

"Dad... nothing's going to happen..." he finally said. The words sounded like lies leaving his mouth. James knew it was stupid to believe someone was invincible, no matter how many times he talked it up in his head. Harry was an auror dealing with Dark Wizards every single day of work. One of these days a spell could just come right around and hit him...


WORDS: 567
TAGS: Haz
COMMENTS: Nada.

[Harry Potter]

Harry smiled lightly as he heard James speaking. Nothing was going to happen… There was the possibility that nothing was going to happen to him. But… The possibility that something would was even greater. And it wasn’t just because of the fact he was an Auror or that he was going on a Dangerous Mission. Because of who he was, even a simple task such as traveling to Hogwarts to check on security or be a guest in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom were dangerous. There were too many people out there that wanted Harry Dead. Some he knew, some he didn’t.

He shook his head a bit as he looked back at his drink, swirling it around in its bottle lightly. He looked back up at his son. James would be graduating Hogwarts this year… Entering the Big Bad World. Harry could imagine how scary that must be. Harry had done his best to make sure his kids had whatever it was they wanted, and protected them as best he could from the real world; chasing their fears away and playing everything in black and white. But the world wasn’t Black and White. As Sirius had put it, the world wasn’t divided between Death Eaters and Good Guys. There was a bit of each in everyone… Harry had done his best to make sure his children didn’t have to face that until they were ready, and Looking at his seventeen year old son; Harry wasn’t sure where to draw that line between being ready and not.

And sitting here, he could see that his son wasn’t ready. And Dear Merlin did Harry wished more than anything that he would return back to his family. A small part of him was regretting even telling his Son this. But the boy had to know. He had a right. He was an Adult now… a Man. And Harry had to accept that fact. But James also had to come to terms with it. It may have been a cruel way of coming to terms, but still… At least this way, he knew from Harry. He would find out first hand… Even Ginny didn’t get that knowledge.

“James, there’s always that possibility. I’m no immortal. There’s no such thing as Immortality.” He said. Harry had proved that no matter how many precautions you took… you always sub come to what was the fate of all humans. Hadn’t he killed Voldemort? The one man who went farther than anyone down the road to immortality? Even Vampires were able to be slain. “The risk that something will happen is greater for me than anyone else. But at the same time, my chances of survival are stronger than someone else’s. I could send someone else on the mission, but I’m tired of watching people die. And if my hunch is correct, the people I’m watching might become enraged. That would leave you, your mother, brother, and sister at risk. Merlin help the bastard who tries it, but I don’t want to even consider that a possibility.” He said.

Anger and hatred had entered his voice towards the end of his statement. Just imagining someone using his family against him caused a coil of anger to blossom in his chest, rising like a caged beast. Harry couldn’t remember feeling this much hatred since he was sharing Voldemort’s feelings.

Words || 563
Tag || James
Comment || Reality gives another slap in the face

[James Potter]

If James had still been a child, his dad would have simply told him that 'everything's fine' with a smile on his face. Perhaps it was the alcohol making him loose lipped, but James was also an adult now and able to know adult things. He now had to come to terms with the fact that mortality is finite. He had to accept that there really were serious dangers in the world and his dad wouldn't be unable to protect him. Now it felt like James was starting to be pushed out the door on his own.

The way Harry talked to James really made him feel like he knew nothing about his father... nothing about what its like to lose loved ones. James could barely even begin to fathom it. He wondered how his dad dealt with it all, if he ever talked about it with anyone. James was sure that if it was him, he would need to let out all of his pent up thoughts.

James took a couple gulps of his butterbeer, as he pondered a decision. He wanted to know, and it was worth a shot to ask. What's the worst that could happen? His dad would say no and that he didn't want to talk about it, and that would be it. Setting down the mug and tapping his fingers on he glass, James kept his head down.

"What was it like...?" he asked quietly and finally looking up at his father. Feeling the need to elaborate, he continued, "About everything. I mean... I can only know so much from the rumors my classmates tell me or the things I read... You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." James held up a hand in defense. He waited for the worst, waiting to get shot down. He pushed the mug around the table in front of him, before picking it up and taking another drink. Anything to distract him from his anxiety.


WORDS: 373
TAGS: Harz
COMMENTS: Its a little short, sorry.

[Harry Potter]

Harry could remember each lost loved one. Each friend, family member, each innocent life lost. How many nights did he wake up from in a cold sweat, green optics franticly searching the room? He was never sure what it was that he was looking for. How many times had Ginny had to calm him down? Tell him that nothing was wrong and that everything was okay now?

It was something he had to live with. Something that would haunt him until the day that he finally was laid to rest along with the rest of them. His gaze turned to his son at his quietly asked question. What was it like… Harry felt the familiar lump rise in his throat as he thought about it all. He turned away from his son to look at his Firewhiskey Bottle, staring at the amber color liquid inside of it.

He could understand why his son would have wanted to know from his own mouth. There were things that Harry wanted to ask his own father, things that he had to settle from hearing from other people. Words that were either diluted with appraisal or hatred, depending on whom you were asking. But his son was asking him. He was able to have the opportunity that Harry never had, would never have. But at the same time, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to tell his son. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to indulge that with his child. All of Harry’s children had some type of impression of Harry being invincible, of fearing nothing. And a part of Harry wanted to keep that image up.

He sighed, pushing his bottle away from himself. He owed it to his son. He owed him the truth at least. “What do you want to know? I can skim over everything; give it to you in a nut shell. I can tell you some of the finer points of my life. Or I can give you everything. From the day I was born all the way up to today. And what story do you want to hear? I can tell you the legend’s story, indulge you into who the man of legend is supposed to be or I can just tell you who I am.” He said.

He finally looked up at his son, all traces of the alcohol gone from his eyes. It was amazing how a serious conversation was about to sober someone up.

Words || 410
Tag || James
Comment || time for father son bonding.

[James Potter]

It seemed like forever as James waited. For a moment, he even regretted asking his dad. It really was something difficult to talk about, how could James be so thick? James took in the look of his father now: completely serious, with no sign of alcohol in his system. He felt frightened, fearing he might even get yelled at for asking. Honestly, James didn't know what to expect because of his poor relationship with his dad.

Then his dad reassured him that he was willing to answer as much or as little as James wanted. Where to begin? James blinked a few times as his eyes wandered across the table. He wasn't expecting his father to be so open. He sighed, overwhelmed with questions in his mind.

"I want to know you... the real you." James felt his face betraying him yet again as his cheeks lightly tinged red. It was such a personal request that James had never dared of asking from his dad before. He took another gulp of his butterbeer, sad to see them amount in his glass diminishing rather too quickly for his liking. "I guess you can tell me what ever you feel like, where ever you feel like starting. Because I really don't know. I don't care what its about, I just want to listen," he paused. "I'm tired of hearing lies, and rumors." For a moment he thought of Scorpius Malfoy and his bitter remarks. Did everyone think so harshly about the Potter family? Was there really something to hate about them?

WORDS: 303
TAGS: Har
COMMENTS: dum dee dum

[Harry Potter]

Harry sighed lightly as he listened to his son. The Real him... Harry thought about how sad it was; that his own child had to ask to know the real them... And when it came to it, it was all Harry's fault. Harry had allowed the rift between him and his children to grow so big. So in a way, Harry felt like he deserved it all.

"All of it... The real me." he said, a small smile on his face. "Hell, it doesn't even begin with me. I guess you can say it begins with your grandparents. James Potter I and Lily Evans. And a one Mr. Severus Snape. And it was all over my mum. Two Blokes fancied her; one since he had first laid eyes on her, the other since their fifth year. " he said. It was amazing how hard it was to talk about this, how difficult it was to get the words out. But at the same time, now that he had started it was so hard to stop. Just as it was when he had to recount how Cedric Diggory had died... He'd have to explain that too.

"As you know; my mum, your Grandmum, was a Muggle born. She had an Older sister by the name of Petunia. When they were younger, they were the best of friends. They had been able to do everything together, tell secrets, play... just like any other sisters. But Petunia was jealous of Mum because Mum was different. And that difference would eventually tear the two apart. Now, I can't sit here and say that Mum hated Aunt Petunia or how Aunt Petunia felt deep down for Mum, but your Great Aunt wanted nothing to do with your Grandmum. Called her a freak. I was never allowed to ask questions about my parents while growing up. Nothing at all. I wasn't to have a picture, I couldn't ask, I couldn't even whisper about them.

"Mum met Severus Snape as a child. They lived nearby. It was actually Snape who told Mum she was a witch. The two of them had a strong friendship, strong enough to last through five years of the worse house rivalry. Slytherin and Gryffindor. And the two of them even shared a hatred for another Gryffindor. Your Grandfather. Mum hated Dad because he was constantly picking on her best friend. And that was what eventually ended their friendship. Snape called her a Mudblood after Dad had humiliated him in front of the school. It was something he regretted till the day he died. But, as all things do; everyone moved on to the best of their abilities. Dad eventually matured greatly and eventually started dating Mum."

He took a sip of his Firewhiskey, making a slight face. Merlin he hated drinking. And now that he was actually sobering up, the taste of it was displeasing. "They Graduated from Hogwarts and joined the Order fighting Voldemort. Snape joined the rank of Death Eaters. I can't say what happened for the first year after they all graduated, but during the early part of the 1980, a prophecy was made that signified the end of the Voldemort. Let's see... What was it exactly... " he looked up at the ceiling, trying to remember word for word the prophecy he had only hear once in his life.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches.…born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not.…and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives.…the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies… Yeah, that was it. Anyways, Snape had heard the Prophecy and quickly went to tell Voldemort. It didn't necessarily mean me. There were two boys born at the end of July that year. Me, and Neville Longbottom. Both of our parents had defied Voldemort three times. But instead of choosing the Pureblood that he so cherished, he attacked the Half-blood like himself.

"Professor Dumbledore thought it was because he saw himself in me. And the more I think about it, the more I see the similarities between us. Both Orphans, similar appearances... Both of us descendants of great important figures." he said. The more he thought about it, the more it made him sick. "Since the day of my birth, I was in hiding. Sometime after my first birthday, my parents moved to Godric's Hallow. While there, Dumbledore suggested they use the Fidelius Charm. And even though he offered to be their Secret-Keeper, they chose Sirius. A week into the charm, they secretly switched to Peter Pettigrew. Not even a few hours later, Voldemort was at the front door. My mum was upstairs, getting ready to put me to bed. Dad confronted him without his wand, he yelled up the stairs for Mum to get out with me, and then he was dead. Voldemort had killed him first.

"He made his way up the stairs to the Nursery where Mum was barricading the door. He tried to spare her life, in return for mine. But she kept begging him to take her instead, pleading to spare me. In the end, he thought it better to just get rid of us all. He killed her, before pointing his wand at me. But it backfired. Instead of killing me, it rebounded and destroyed his body. I escaped with my scar. Hagrid took me from the ruins of the cottage. Sirius tried to stop him, but Hagrid had specific orders to take me to my Aunt and Uncles. I was left there on the front steps of their little apartment."

He could hear his parent’s last words in his head, see their faces as Voldemort raised his wand to give the final blow. The scared face of Lily Potter loomed in his minds eyes, her almond green eyes -so like his own- pleading with Voldemort not to kill him, but to take her life instead. "I spent the next ten years being neglected by my only living relatives. I was a punching bag for my cousin; my bedroom was the cupboard under the stairs; and I was always left at home. I wasn't exactly starved, but I was never allowed to eat what I wanted, nor have as much as I wanted. I never had a friend until my eleventh birthday. That's when I met Hagrid." he said, a small on his face.

Meeting Hagrid was by far the best thing to have ever happened to him. It was the first time that Harry had felt like an adult. He had felt wanted, loved... And it was the best feeling in the world. One of the first happiest moments of his life.

Words || 1,157
Tag || James
Comment || wee!!! Up to eleventh birthday... now only ... what? 8 more years to go? -dies-

[James Potter]

James took another sip of his drink, then sighed as he waited. Once his dad began speaking he leaned in slightly as he got absorbed into the story. He never heard his father speak so much before. It was strange to hear his voice stringing along.

So James' grandmother was quite a popular girl it seemed. Popular enough for two men to like her. If only he had a chance to meet her. James suddenly felt selfish wanting to meet her when it was Harry's own mother whom he also never properly met. The mention that the other person in question was Severus Snape perked up James' ears. He'd heard so many things about the fellow, he was interested to know more. And the truth.

The prophecy sounded so ominous, completely different from when it was read in a biography or old copies of the Prophet. It even had a darker tone coming from the person that it was about. It was strange that Harry could speak about it so simply. 'Neither can live while the other survives.' James' eyebrows raised as he gulped nervously. Hell, those few words were so powerful coming from the Harry Potter, himself. He didn't know what he would do if he was in the situation. It made him admire his dad even more. And to think, it could have just as easily been Professor Longbottom. But it was Harry.

James had to look away when the story got to the part of his grandparents' death. To imagine something so brutal happening to someone of his very own family, it was tough. His granddad wandlessly defended himself? James Potter I. If only James Potter II could picture himself as brave as that. And then his grandmum, putting herself before Harry, which ultimately gave his dad the edge over Voldemort. So many of the details James never knew were now finally enlightening him. He felt like he was starting to understand more.

And after all of that, Harry had been stuck with the most horrible people. James never heard too much about them at all. He just knew they existed and that his dad loathed them. It surprised him when he found out Harry had to live under the stairs and was basically their slaves. Just the idea alone angered James, causing him to ball his fist. His dad didn't deserve to be treated like that. No one did, but especially Harry Potter.

Part of James wanted to go around and hug his dad. Now James wasn't a very affectionate person, just with his baby sister and his girlfriend. But now James felt like the wall between father and son was slowly getting removed brick by brick. He continued to start at the table and sighed again. It was so much so fast, but James wanted to know. He was able to start finishing that portrait of his father he had in his mind.

Finally a small smile came across James' face at the mention of Hagrid. He remembered when he was much younger when Hagrid would come for visits and lift himself and his brother up on his shoulders. Of course Lily was too young for that, and his mum wouldn't allow it. Lily finally persuaded their mum though, so Hagrid would wander around carrying the three of them about the house. James would visit him at Hogwarts often for some tea and teeth-cracking rock cakes. Now he was retired and James unfortunately didn't get to see enough of the giant. He made a mental note to ask his dad later to invite Hagrid for the holidays.

There was a pause in Harry's speech, and it felt as if he should say something. But what? What do you say to someone with such a strong history, when they are telling you their innermost thoughts. James could say he was sorry, but it wouldn't make much sense. He couldn't say that he understood, because he didn't. The things he was most curious about were his awful great aunt and uncle, and their nasty child. "You never talk to them anymore do you? The Dursley's? I sure hope not..." James trailed off with his random comment. He'd never met the vile family, and he was glad. Now he thought that if he met them, he'd be sure to do some heavy hexing on them.

"I bet it was such a relief to get to Hogwarts," he added after another short silence. "Must've been terrible going home each summer, I expect..." James was just rambling off the thoughts that first popped into his head, trying in anyway to relate to his father. It was impossible to understand being neglected like that, because James was everything but neglected. He had a wonderful, caring family. They may have not been as close as he would've liked, but there was still nothing more he could ask for.


WORDS: 892
TAGS: Harry Pottizzle
COMMENTS: Wow, lots of writing. I did my best to
match and didn't want to have him ask too many questions. XP

[Harry Potter]

Harry smiled lightly, shaking his head. "Only Dudley, my Cousin. You know Dudley; I always used to take you, your brother, and sister over for a few hours. You three always hated it." he said with a chuckle. His cousin was the only one he spoke with. They were on what one would call 'Christmas Card' Terms. That is to say, they acknowledged each other enough to send cards, visit, and greet each other when they met on the street; but it was still an awkward situation when they visited, neither knowing what to say.

"But no, I don't speak with my Aunt and Uncle." he said. Harry held no love for the two of them. But he didn't want them in harm’s way either. He was positive his Uncle was happy to be rid of him, but he wasn't so sure about his Aunt. The last time they had seen each other was a few days before his Seventeenth birthday. She had looked like she wanted to tell him something, but had turned without a word.

His smile grew when his son wondered if Hogwarts was a relief. "It was a relief. I was with kids my own age... People who actually understood me. For the first time in my life, I had friends. Hogwarts was my first home. So yeah, it was hard to leave for the summer. I had a calendar on my bedroom wall were I marked down the days leading up to the Start of Term. But more than Hogwarts, I missed my best friends." he said.

"Which brings us back to my story: Let's see..." he thought for a bit, trying to recall every last detail of what happened to him before and during his first year at Hogwarts. "A week before my eleventh birthday, I got something I had never gotten before. I was curious, happy, excited... It was a letter. As simple and pathetic as that sounds," He said with a chuckle, "However, before I could open and read it, my Uncle had it. When he read it, he was scared. You see, my Aunt and Uncle knew exactly what I was. But they never told me. I didn't know there was anything special about me. I was just Harry, that awkward boy with his messy black hair, baggy clothing, and broken glasses. And for those first ten years, I was under the impression that my parents had died in a car crash; the same 'car crash' that gave me my scar.

"Well, when the letters kept coming, they decided to be nice to me. They moved me out of the cupboard and into the smallest bedroom. But even then, they kept coming. Now that I think about it, it was rather funny. The letters were getting in all types of ways since Uncle Vernon had boarded up the mail slot. They were coming in the eggs, through the windows, the thin spaces between the doors. And then finally, they were shooting down through the chimney. Uncle Vernon got fed up, so we traveled. But still, the letters followed. Eventually, we ended up on a small cottage in the middle of the stormy sea. My Aunt and Uncle slept in the only bed, and Dudley got the moth eaten couch with the best blankets there was. I was left to find the softest piece of dirty floor and curl under the thinnest blanket ever.

"I remember that it sounded like the place was going to collapse at any moment," he said with a laugh, "A part of me wished it would. At least then I'd be a bit warmer. There was a constant crunching noise. But it wasn't the cottage. I was watching the seconds tick by towards my birthday. I had planned on scaring Dudley; I would have been punished for it too, but at this point, there really wasn't anything else they could do to me. Just as the last second ticked away, there was a loud crashing noise at the door. And then, the door was on the floor. My uncle came down holding a rifle.

"It was Hagrid. He explained everything to me; told me what I was, who I really was... My parents, our world... He explained everything that he could. Of course, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia weren't going to give in without a fight. But in the end, they weren't as tough as they had originally thought. They had failed at 'squishing the magic out of me'. Hagrid and I left after a few hours of sleep. We went to the Leaky Cauldron, and through there, Diagon Alley. I wished I had about eight more eyes... I wanted to see everything. But then a sudden thought came to me. I hadn't the money to pay for any of it. Naturally, our first stop was Gringott’s. You can't imagine the surprise I got whenever I saw all the gold I had. I knew the Dursley's didn't know about it, because if they had known I had so much gold under London, they would have had it quicker than you could say unfair.

"So, I got my gold and then we went about getting my school things. I first met Draco Malfoy in Madam Malkin's. He knew exactly what house he was going to be in. And the more he spoke, the more out of place I felt. That was the first time I heard about the Hogwarts Houses. Although, I only knew about two from what he said. Slytherin and Hufflepuff. I thought for sure I'd be in Hufflepuff. I didn't believe I'd fit in anywhere else. That was also the first time I heard about Quidditch. Hagrid tried to explain it, but he didn't do a very good job. Diagon Alley was also where I got my first present. A snow owl named Hedwig..." his voice trailed off slightly as he thought of his beloved owl. She had been the first to die when the Order had decided to move Harry.

"And then we went to Ollivander's. This was what I had been waiting for the whole time. Getting a Wand." he said, laughing a bit, "But let me tell you, I was glad to be out of there after I had gotten my wand. Mr. Ollivander was a bit creepy. I must have tried every wand in the store before he brought me my wand. When I first grasped it, I felt familiar warmth enter through my hand, as if my wand and hand had been friends that were being reunited. And the whole type he kept saying one word. 'Curious'. When I had asked what was curious, He said that he remembered every wand he had ever sold. It just so happened that the Phoenix who's tail feather resided in my wand, gave another feather. He told me that it was curious why it would be destined for me... when its brother gave me my scar."

He unconsciously reached up and fingered the thin lightning bold shaped scar on his forehead. "Everyone seemed to be extremely scared of this wizard. I had no idea why, and every time I tried to ask Hagrid, he would shiver and explain to me what he could. But it was such a mystery, that nobody really knew. Voldemort had killed hundreds of skilled witches and wizards. His Killing Curse had been enough to kill my parents and destroy my house, but it couldn't kill me. And that was why it was such a mystery, why I was so famous. The-Boy-Who-Lived... That's what I was known as throughout the Magical world. Everyone knew my name. Well, after that eventful birthday, I returned to the Dursley's for the rest of the summer. The last day of August, I asked my Uncle to take me to King's Cross to get on my train. He agreed only because he wanted to make a fool of myself.

"You see, Hagrid had only given me my ticket. He told me to stick to my ticket. But he never explained how I had to get onto the platform And just when I thought this was all a hoax created by the Dursley's, a heard a woman say 'Muggles'. I followed her. She was a woman with red hair, and following her were five children with the same flaming red hair. I watched a first Percy, Fred and George went through the platform. I spoke up, asking her if she could explain to me how to get through. She told me how, and told me to go through the wall separating platforms nine and ten. I went ahead of Ron. I can remember being so scared I was just going to bounce off the wall. I closed my eyes to get in. And when I opened them, The Hogwarts Express stood in front of me.

After getting over the shock and awe, I went about finding a compartment. I tried to get the trunk up myself. The only thing I managed was a sore foot." he said with a chuckle, "That's when the twins helped me. Together, the three of us got my trunk inside. As I thanked them, they got sight of my scar. I was thankful when their Mum called them out to say Goodbye. I sat down near the window to watch them. They told their Mum who I was. I was so grateful to her for telling them off about asking me any questions. Ginny wasn't of age at the time. I believe she'd only just turned ten. She wanted to bad to come on the train and see me, but your Grandmum wouldn't have it. The whistle blew, and all the students were on the train.

"Ron came by a few minute later, asking if he could sit with me. Everywhere else was full. Introductions were made and we had a fun time just talking. We explained the world's we knew best. Ron the Magical, me the Muggle. It was fun. But then Draco Malfoy came by. He wanted to make friends with me. Told me that some Wizarding families were better than others. I didn't like him at all. The way he spoke back in Diagon Alley and the way he was acting to my friend... It didn't sit well with me. In the end, they left because Scabbers bit Goyle's finger. Hermione came in, wandering if we'd been fighting. Said people were acting Childish up and down the train. At the time, we didn't like your Aunt. She was nothing but a pain to us. A bit stuck up. Love Hermione, but she needed an attitude adjustment. Finally, the train came to a stop and we got out. Hagrid rounded up the First years and we set off in the boats. That was how we got our first look of Hogwarts." he said.

Harry could remember how the first glimpse of the Castle captivated him. He had never seen anything so mysterious and wonderful. It was the first time he had laid eyes on his home.

Words || 1,848
Tag || James
Comment ||To much... >,< First year will be split into two posts.

[James Potter]

It was funny how easily James could forget about Dudley, technically his uncle or something of the sort. The two families very rarely spent time with each other, and James started to forget how exactly they were related anyway. Now that he could put the two things together, James could now put a face to the person who caused his dad so much angst. He was glad they didn't have contact with Harry's aunt and uncle. James never wanted to have to meet those evil people.

A smile finally found its way back to his face when his dad started talking about Hogwarts and how it was his first home. James couldn't say exactly the same thing, but he remembered the first time he had ever set eyes on the wondrous castle. To James it was like a second home, because he was lucky enough to have a first home that he already loved. As his dad mentioned seeing his best friends each school year, he started to wonder about his own friends. He had Penny, but he wasn't sure if he had any real best friends. As of lately, quite a few people disliked him actually. James would have to say the closest male to him would have to be Ted. He knew James so well, he could write his biography. His spirits damped a bit, dwelling on the fact that he never got to see Ted as often as he liked now that he was out of school. James wasn't much for friends, but now he wished he had some since he was starting to make a few enemies.

Harry pulled James out of his thoughts once he started to talk about his first year. James took a couple more gulps of his drink, finishing it off. The tips of his ears were a bit pink now, matching a couple of pink patches on his cheeks. He was feeling quite fuzzy inside now from those two butterbeers. Part of him wanted to order another, but he didn't want to look like a lush in front of his ol' dad. So he just leaned in and listened to the story of Harry Potter's life.

It was hard for James to suppress a chuckle as he pictured his dad as an awkward boy. At least he knew where he got it from. Soon his amusement faded for a moment, hearing more about the Dursleys and their efforts to keep Harry's real identity unknown. James smiled again though at the mention of Hagrid for the second time. He rested his chin on his hand as he listened, like a little boy hearing about magic for the first time.

And then they started to talk about Voldemort again. James never knew their wands were considered 'brothers.' It was interesting how something like this played out, how it all fell into place with the prophecy. And when Harry first started to hear about this, he was only eleven years old. It was mind boggling. James wasn't sure how he would have reacted if something even remotely similar to that happened to him at this age, let alone six years ago. James took a glance up at his dad's scar, trying to be discrete. But with getting it ogled at for so many years, he would be surprised if his dad didn't notice his gander. It was intimidating knowing what that scar meant. It meant that Harry Potter, James' very own father, had beat death. Yet here sat James who was nothing special, a constant disappointment for people expecting him to have a golden glow around him for being The-Boy-Who-Lived's first born. But was it a gift to not have a constant burden like his father did? Sometimes he'd prefer it over seeing the discouraged looks on people's faces.

Then Harry started to talk about when he first met James' mum and the rest of the family. It was no surprise that they disliked Aunt Hermione at first. She can be a bit much, especially with her and his mum in the same room fuming over the same thing. The typical reaction would be to duck and cover, but they would surely find out the hiding place no doubt. At the mention of a Malfoy, James made a sour face. He never properly met Scorpius' father, but James figured he was just as much of a slime ball. Maybe worse. It made him think back to the duel the two had recently. James fought to keep a grumble from escaping. He was hoping to keep that duel a little secret...

James remembered the boat ride to Hogwarts in his first year. He was leaning so far over the boat's edge, that he nearly jumped in and swam across. Of course he'd have probably been swallowed up by the giant squid or captured by a grindylow.

Two butterbeers moved through him quite fast, as now his bladder was ready to explode. Not wanting to interrupt his dad's story, but also not able to hold it in any longer, James stood up from the table. Besides, his father probably needed a break from talking anyway. "Sorry, gotta use the loo," he said, pointing his thumb over his shoulder. James spun around, the room taking only a millisecond to catch up with his spinning.

The old bathroom was luckily empty as James hurried inside. After doing his business and washing his hands, he stared at himself in the mirror for a minute. His eyes looked a bit tired, and his cheeks were rosy. It was from the butterbeer obviously. He lifted his glasses to give his eyes a rub. James hoped it didn't bother his father too much. He had a bit of an obsession with the drink, though never let himself exceed two. Most of the time though, by the time he got through two drinks, it was time to head back up to Hogwarts anyway. He wondered briefly, trying to remember how many drinks his dad had that night. About one or two he figured, his mind a bit foggy.

Exiting the bathroom, he shuffled back to the table. Instead of sitting though, he grabbed his mug as he passed by. "I'll be back again," he added, disappearing in the crowd before his dad could object. Once at the counter though, James felt a bit woozy.

"Another butterbeer for ye, eh?" asked the worker.

James paused a minute. "On second thought, make it a ginger ale..."

"Good choice," he said with a raspy laugh, taking his glass and filling it from a tap.

"Thank you," James said politely as he paid. He headed back over to the table with a glass full of now almost transparent liquid. "Its ginger ale," he added reassuringly to his dad and then taking a sip.


WORDS: 1227
TAGS: Har
COMMENTS: Okay that's the best I can squeeze out of him. Though I still ended up 600 shy of yours, haha.

[Harry Potter]

Harry wasn't oblivious to his surroundings turning his story telling. He noticed that the tips of his son's ears were slightly pink, matching the two spots on either side of his cheeks. He chuckled mentally at that. The boy was buzzed after only two Butterbeers, and they didn't hold much alcohol. As a matter of fact, the only thing he knew that got drunk off the stuff were House Elves. An image of Winky swam into view; blouse dirty as she sat wobbly on a small stool. He got that from Harry, although he could at least drink Butterbeer without a problem...

He couldn't help but grin sheeply when his son chuckled at him as he mentioned his past. However he could see the amusement quickly leave his son's face as he continued on. He also caught the attempted look of discreet as James looked at his scar. He was so used to it by now, although that didn't stop the annoyance that he was able to tell when someone was looking at his scar.

It was amazing how a simple scar could mean so much... But when Harry pondered the thin line on his forehead, and he often did, he saw that it wasn't so simple. Nothing about his life had been simple, from the moment of his birth. No, since before his birth. Since Trelawney made that prediction. His life style had been chosen for him; he lacked the choice to choose anything for himself. But even has he thought those words, he knew they were a lie. Dumbledore had told him that he didn't have to live by the prophecy. That he didn't have to do anything. Voldemort had chosen to follow it, and his actions were the ones that grounded Harry's choices.

He raised a brow, a small smirk on his face as his son stood up. He chuckled, nodding his head and waving his son off. He sighed lightly, finishing his own drink, shaking his head and making a face. Merlin that stuff was nasty. And yet he continued to drink it. He looked at his son, his eyes slightly watery from the Firewhiskey. He blinked, looking at him but nodded his head. James was an adult. There was nothing he could do... But he was still a child in school... Well, he'd let his son make that decision.

When James came back and said his drink was now Ginger Ale, he raised his hands in defense. "I'm not going to say a word. You're a responsible adult. You make your own decisions." he said. He then smiled. "But if it helps, I think you made the right decision. And for that, I'm Proud." he said. It was simple thing, yes; but to Harry, all the small and little things were precious. He knew how fast everything could be taken. Like in a flash of green light and the sudden rush of death upon you for example. He sighed, figuring he might as well restart his story.

"As you know, once we were in the Castle, we journeyed up to the Great Hall. At the time, Professor McGonagall was the one responsible for overseeing the Sorting Ceremony. We all filed into the Great Hall and were sorted. Your Aunt Hermione was the first one to get sorted. Gryffindor, obviously." he said. He then laughed lightly. "Ron groaned at that, hoping she would be put elsewhere. And then, they called my name. Naturally, the Hall grew silent and every eye was fixated on me. I was so scared. What if I sat up there for ages waiting to be sorted? I was afraid I wouldn't be sorted and that I'd be whisked back onto the train to London. But The Sorting Hat was placed over my head and began to decide where to place me. I can remember it telling me that I was extremely talented, very brave, and an unusual thirst to prove myself."

And now here was one of Harry's secrets he kept back from everyone. A part of him was still ashamed of that fact. The Hat had considered putting him in Slytherin. It had only been Harry's persistence to be placed anywhere but that the Hat finally decided. But did Harry really want to tell his son that? Did he want to indulge into his son, the one thing he had only ever told Ginny? Licking his lips, he sighed lightly, deciding he might as well. His son wanted to know everything about him after all... "It wasn't sure where to put me. I thought 'Not Slytherin... Anywhere but Slytherin'. The Hat found this amusing, saying I would have done well in Slytherin. That I could be great, and Slytherin would help me on my way to Greatness. But I didn't want to be in Slytherin. And in the end it chose Gryffindor. Not even Ron or Hermione knew what the Hat considered. The Hat's original choice and its final decision haunted me greatly for years afterwards. What if it had made an mistake and I was supposed to be in Slytherin?" He shook his head slightly at it, "Your Mum is the only person I ever really told that too. She says that I'm just being foolish, but... Your Mum, on some level, just don't get it. Hell, it's not even something I can describe.

"Anyways, after the sorting was finished, Professor Dumbledore gave the normal Start of Term Speech. Nothing really happened the first week, although after a week me and Ron managed to not get lost. The most exciting thing really to happen first was my First Broom-flying lesson. Neville made another plunder and ended up breaking his wrist. However, he had dropped his Remembrall and Malfoy took it. I told him to give it back. And he took to the sky, telling me to come and get it. I had never been on a broom before, so I wasn't sure how to get up there. But I wasn't about to let Malfoy think he had one up on me. So I took to the sky. And it was... so free. I can't be sure if I can explain it or not. It was something I could do without being taught. Just like breathing. It came so natural.

Malfoy seemed to be realizing that it was only me and him. So he threw it. I can't be sure how fast it fell and I dove after it. It seemed like slow motion to me. But I caught it and pulled up enough to safely roll onto the ground. Professor McGonagall had seen. When she told me to follow her, I was certain I was going to be expelled. Instead, she appointed me as Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. She also got me my first broom. A Nimbus 2000. It was Top of the Line at the time.

"I was to be kept a secret. The 'Ace of the Sleeve' for Gryffindor if you will. Merlin was I scared before my first match. It got out that I was seeker. There's no such thing as a Secret at Hogwarts. I wasn't sure which was more comforting. People telling me I would to great or that they'll be running under me with a mattress for when I fell. That same night, Malfoy challenged me to a Duel. Ron was going to be my Second. As we snuck out, Hermione tried to stop us. She followed us out of the Portrait and into the Corridor. I didn't believe anyone could be so bossy about someone else's business. And all she seemed to care about was us losing the points she won in class for being a know-it-all. When she tried to get back into the Common Room, the Fat Lady had gone. So she was stuck with us. Later on down the Corridor, he ran into Neville who had forgotten the password again. So the four of us made our way to the Trophy Room to Duel Malfoy."

He sighed lightly, "Of course he wasn't there. But it appeared he had tipped off Mr. Filch because he almost caught us. We attempted to sneak out, but Neville made a blunder and we all had to run for it. We ran through all types of passages, finally entering a room quickly and shutting the door. We figured the Trophy room had to be Miles behind us. We only realized what was in the room when Neville finally managed to get my attention. That was the first night we met... Fluffy." he said. Harry could easily remember the gigantic three-headed dog with ease. He never wanted to meet that dog again. He fixed his son with his gaze again. "If you ever in the Forbidden Forest and you see a Gigantic Three-Headed Dog, play some time of music. Anything, and run as quickly as you can away while playing the music. Trust me when I tell you, Fluffy isn't as cute as Hagrid will try and make you think.

"We survived the Fluffy incident and found ourselves at Halloween. We were enjoying the feast when we noticed Hermione wasn't there. Ron had said some nasty things about her and she had overheard. Neville said he heard it from the girls that she was in the Girls Bathroom crying. Just when we thought that would be our only worries Quirrell announced that a Troll had gotten into the Dungeon's. I wasn't aware how frightening this was, but the whole hall started to panic. Dumbledore managed to regain order and instructed we were to go to our Dorms. As we started out, I remembered Hermione. I made Ron come with me to the Girls toilet to get her. As we were searching for it, we found the troll. And we kinda locked it in the Girl's Toilet... We only realized that after we heard your aunt scream.

"After a confusing battle in which I jumped on the Troll's back and shoved my wand, by accident mind you, up its nose we managed to take down a fully grown Mountain Troll. Hermione lied to the teachers to protect us. And well, we all became friends. Of course, if we hadn't then that would have been very awkward. I don't see how you can save someone's life and not be friends, but then I just have to look at Snape and your Grandfather, but I believe theirs is a special case. Soon after the Quidditch game was upon us. Gryffindor pulled an early lead during the game. And towards the end, my broom started to try and buck me off. Someone had put a jinx on it. We thought it was Professor Snape at the time..." he shook his head slightly. "Anyways, Hermione did some distraction and my Broom came back under my control. I sped to the ground, feeling just a little air sick. And on the way down, I ended up catching the snitch in my mouth. Nearly swallowed it really. The team we had been facing, Slytherin, weren't none too happy about that.

"After that, Christmas came up so fast. Malfoy tried to make me feel bad because I wasn't welcomed at the Dursley's for any Holiday. But I ignored him. I was perfectly happy to spend my holidays at Hogwarts. Me and Ron and the rest of the Weasley's basically had the Common Room to ourselves. It was nice. And then Christmas morning came around. I was going to have a bit of a lie in because I wasn't expecting to get anything. I had no one to give me presents. But Ron woke me up and the first thing I saw after I put my glasses on was a stack of presents at the foot of my bed. Ron had written to his Mum, telling her I wasn't expecting much, so she made me a Weasley Sweater and a bunch of homemade sweets. I couldn't tell you how happy I was. For the first time in my life, I had presents. It was a lot smaller than Ron's of course, but still. I was content with what I had. Your Aunt and Uncle gave me candies; I had some Fudge from Hagrid's that I let soften by the fire... And a Present from Dumbledore... Although at the time I didn't know it was he who sent it.

"It was my Dad's Invisibility Cloak. The only heirloom I received from him. With it, all types of possibilities were open to me. I decided to use it that night to sneak off into the Restricted Section of the Library. I didn't take Ron with me, because I wanted to be selfish. It was my Dad's, so that time; the first time, I wanted to use it by myself. I made it to the Restricted Section alright. But when I went to go open a book the bloody thing started to scream. I slammed it shut and ran, knocking over my lamp as I did so. Under the Cloak, I went past Filch and out into the hall. I just ran, unsure of where to go. And then I heard Snape's voice and thought all hope was lost. I saw an open door and squeezed through it into an abandoned room. The desks were all piled against the wall, and in the middle of the room was a Mirror.

"I thought it would be fun to walk over to the mirror and try to look at my reflection, knowing it wouldn't be there. I saw me... and a room full of people. I turned around, a hand clamped tightly over my mouth to prevent me from screaming as my heart pounded heavily in my chest..." He trailed off slightly, feeling the tears in his eyes as he recalled exactly how he felt. "I turned to look back at the mirror. I was reflected in it, white and scared-looking, and there, reflected behind me, were at least ten others. I looked over my shoulder --- but still, no one was there. I thought they may have been invisible, and that the mirror's trick was to reflect them, invisible or not. I looked at the mirror again, and focused on the woman standing right behind me. She was smiling and waving at me. I reached out a hand behind me over my shoulder. If she was there, I would touch her, our reflections were so close together, but I only felt air. She, along with the others, existed only in the mirror. I remember thinking how pretty she was. She had dark red hair... and her eyes were exactly like mine. I edged closer to the mirror, examining her eyes. Bright green --- exactly the same shape, but then I noticed she was crying; smiling, but crying. There was a tall, thin, black-haired man standing next to her. He put his arm around her. He wore glasses, and his hair was very untidy. It stuck up in the back, just as my own.

"I got extremely close to the mirror, putting my hand on its surface. I know who they were without even knowing. I looked into the faces of the others. Saw green eyes like mine, noses, even a little old man that had my knobby knees. I was looking at my family for the first time in my life. I don't know how long I stood there, but I stared at them hungrily, a powerful ache inside me; half joy, half terrible sadness. A noise brought me back to my surroundings, and I quickly left. The following night, I brought Ron, but he only saw himself, out shinning his family. He told me not to go back the following night, but I did anyways. Professor Dumbledore caught me. I explained what the mirror did and told me it was being moved to a new home, and that I wasn't to look for it.

"Soon after that, we helped Hagrid raise an Illegal Dragon in his hut before convincing him to get rid of it. Just when we thought we were in the clear, we were landed Detention and lost 150 points. This put Gryffindor in last place for the House Cup. Our Detention wasn't so bad. We were going into the Forest to look for a wounded Unicorn. Found it alright... and the thing that had killed it. It had been Quirrell, who was drinking its blood for Voldemort. Because Malfoy has a loud mouth and a rather high pitched girly scream," He grinned here, "We were spotted. Naturally, Malfoy ran. Coward never did stand and fight. Always ran or had someone else do the dirty work for him... Quirrell noticed and advanced. And the closer he got, I felt the most severe pain I'd ever felt in my forehead. As if my head was going to split open right at my scar. Just as I thought I was going to die, I was saved by a Centaur by the name of Firenze. I rode on his back all the way to the outer edge of the forest.

"Soon after that, we had our exams. And my scar never once quick hurting. I was so frustrated with it. One thing led to another, and we found ourselves in front of Fluffy. We had long ago discovered that what he was there for was to protect the Philosopher’s Stone. After getting past Fluffy, we had to battle Devil's Snare. Thank Merlin Hermione listened in Herbology... You wouldn't be here if she hadn't. Let's see... After that I believe we had to get a charmed key... then play Wizard's Chess. I thought Ron had died... Thankfully, we didn't have to face the Troll, because it was bigger and uglier than the one on Halloween. Then Hermione solved a Potion's Logic rhyme thing. And Again, I'm extremely grateful we became friends. I would have been stuck there for hours. She went back to get Ron and send an Owl to Dumbledore to tell him what was going on. I went on ahead.

"We thought we were protecting the stone from Snape. But it turned out to be Quirrell. He made me look into the Mirror of Erised. Instead of seeing my family, I saw that I had the stone. And in reality, I got it. I tried to make a run for it, but he stopped me and another voice joined us. When he took off his turban, I was face to ... well, Face with Voldemort again. He tried to get me to join him, but I'd rather drop dead. It was because of him that I had no parents. Quirrell tried to strangle me, but every time he touched my skin, his skin blistered. I clung to him, even when the pain in my scar was blinding. All to protect the stone. I didn't care if I lived or died. And I thought I had died. I don't know when I had passed out, but I woke up three days later in the Hospital Wing with the Headmaster sitting next to me. He explained a few things, that made sense, and left a few more questions unanswered. But Dumbledore always had a reason for what he did or said. He explained that I got the stone because I wanted to find it but not use it. One of his more brilliant pieces of magic he said. He also explained that Quirrell couldn't touch me because he had given his soul to Voldemort. My Mum had died to save me. She needn't have died. If there is one thing Voldemort never understood and underestimated, it was Love. Love as powerful as my mother's left a mark... No visible sign. To have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It was the same protection I used to protect everyone at the Battle of Hogwarts. Hagrid visited me the next day, and gave me a photo album. He had sent owls to my parents old school friends to get pictures of them. And for the first time in my life I had pictures of my parents. I could look at them whenever I wanted to now.

"That was basically the end of the year really. At the end of term banquet, it appeared that Slytherin had won the House Cup. But Ron and Hermione were both awarded fifty points. Ron's was for the best played game of Chess Hogwarts ever saw, and Hermione's was for the use of cool logic in the face of fire. I won sixty points for pure nerve and outstanding courage. That made us tied with Slytherin for first place. And Neville won ten points for standing up to his friends. He tried to stop us from leaving the Common Room the night we went down the trap door... Hermione put a Body-Bind Curse on him. Poor bloke. And in one night, we went from fourth place to first." he sighed lightly. Now that he looked back on his first year, a lot had happened. It didn't seem like much, compared to everything else he'd been through, but he knew it was in fact a lot. Too much, in fact, for an eleven year old to have gone through. Eleven years old, and already facing more and overcoming more than any other adult would have in a life time.

"That's basically it for my first year." he said with a shrug. Because now that he looked back, his first year had been nothing. Had been the easiest of all his years at Hogwarts. The only other year that may have been just as simple was his third or sixth years. And even then, his sixth year hadn't been easy. In his third year, he made a few new discoveries, both good ones and bad ones. But that was it.

Words || 3,656
Tag || James
Comment || dear god that was alot... And I tried condensing a lot of it too....