Twilight of a Boy
"Evening, love," a tall, raven-haired man greeted with a kiss.
"Mmmm. Hello, darling,"
"How was your day?" he took his place at an immaculate, though slightly marred, table while his wife fixed her eyes on him.
She crossed her arms. "You're late."
He glanced over at his plate of cold food before running his hand through his hair, causing his wife to make a face.
"Ah...yes...well we were swamped today. Fifty people must have been in today. There's rumor that Dragon Pox is going around."
"Seriously?"
"I don't know, to tell you the truth. I didn't get any cases today. Just a few burns and some nasty bites. Boring stuff. My guess is that Grumson's trying to get me back for winning that Quidditch bet last week by giving me some widespread panic to contend with."
"Poor dear," she said dryly. "This is why you shouldn't waste your time betting on bloddy Quidditch matches. Their purpose is to make you hoarse or break your neck, depending on if you're watching or playing, not bring the wrath of a sore loser on your head." He rolled his eyes as she waved her wand and ribbons of steam swirled from his supper.
A companionable silence fell between the two as the man shovled heaping forkfuls into his mouth. The woman was content to sit at the table and watch him devour her cooking.
"So what has James been up to all day?"
"Sirius came over for a few hours, hence the new dent in the table." He chuckled lightly as she pointed to the offending spot.
"He's not staying over?"
"No, his uncle came to get him at five. His mother wanted him home, he said." The man visibly tensed at the mention of Mrs. Black. Seeing this, his wife continued. "Anyway, I think they wore themselves out."
"I think they wore you out more than they did themselves," he joked.
"They did," she agreed, enthusiastically nodding her head. "I need to find out where they get all that energy and nab some for myself."
"Poor dear," he mocked. "Just you wait, in a few days he'll be at Hogwarts, and when he comes back he might have a girlfriend."
James, who had been listening to his parents entire conversation from the top of the stairs made a face. There was no way he was going to walk around holding a girl's hand, buying her presents, kissing her by the lake or anything like that. His father was a very clever man, but obviously was having a lapse into stupidity at the moment.
"Oh don't look so horrified. You can't avoid it forever," a deep voice chasitised from beneath him. "I saw a girl about James' age today and she's already well on her way to becoming a young woman." James made another face that was, if possible, more disgusted than the first. "James is going to have to keep up with his female peers. He can't be a little boy forever."
"Do you know what time it is?"
"Half-past nine. Is the clock off or something?"
"No, but do you know where your son is right now?"
"In bed?"
"That's right. In bed. Do you think that a boy who's in bed by half-past nine is going to spend all his waking hours chasing girls?"
James scowled at the bannister opposite him. He was not a little boy, like his mother thought. He hadn't gone to bed before half-past ten since term ended. He and Sirius were learning how to become Animagi, and were helping Peter along with it.
He was thirteen and about to start his third year at Hogwarts, where already he was smarter than some of the fifth years. He was a teenager, for Merlin's sake. If he didn't want a girlfriend it wasn't because he wasn't ready for one but because none of the girls his age caught his eye.
"You're being ridiculious, you know." the man said.
"Yes, but he's barely thirteen."
"He's been thirteen for nine months."
James didn't want to hear any more, so he silently crept back into his room. He and Sirius had come up with a few more reasons to add to the "Why Snape is a Git List" during his visit and he wanted to jot them down on the running list they kept before he forgot them.
Reason 56: He doesn't blink.
Reason 57: McGonnagal flinches when he talks to her.
Reason 58: He doesn't cover his mouth when he sneezes.
Reason 59:
"He stalks us, James, I swear. Did you see how many times he walked by our compartment?" Sirius' eyes were wide with excitement. The sorting hat had just begun to sing his annual song, meaning that in a matter of minutes his plate would be filled with food enough to feed a family.
"Ugh, don't remind me Sirius. I'd like to have an appetite for the feast," moaned Peter.
"Really, mate, he probably was just walking around because he didn't have a place to sit," James mock scolded. "I can't immagine who'd let him sit with them."
The four boys burst into a fit of muffled laughter, casting a few glances over at Snape's usual place at the end of the Slytherin table.
"Ahem," James felt someone touch his shoulder. It was Lily Evans. He watched her bring a pale finger gracefully to her lips as a soft "shhhh" escaped them. It took him two moments too long to comprehend what she was saying, but when he did, he also realized that he had been staring at Lily Evans.
"Sorry," he whispered loudy to her as he elbowed Sirius to shut up.
"Ow!" he said loudly enough to gain the stares from fifteen or so surrounding students. "What was that for?"
"Quiet," he hissed as sent Lily what he hoped was his most endearing smile.
She gave him a odd look before focusing on Professor McGonnagal as she read the names of the incoming first years. James followed suit as did his friends, and the four of them remained on good behavior for the rest of the feast.
James kept glancing over at Lily between bites of mashed potatoes, trying to dechipher what exactly what different about her this year. As the plates cleared he chanced another look, but this she noticed.
Not knowing what to do, he smiled shyly, or at least what what shly for him. Their eyes made contact for a fleeting second before she broke contact and stared at her empty plate. James could see a deep blush creep up her neck to her cheeks and forehead. He had no idea what her problem was but he had a feeling that this girl would drive his mum crazy over Christmas, whether she knew it or not.
And there you have it. Sorry about all the mechanical errors and whatnot I'm sure there are. Mechianical isn't the right word, but I'm apologizing for the fact that obviously I have no idea how to upload files correctly and whatnot. It's short, and not the best story ever written, but if I held on to it for a minute longer, convinced that I would go back and edit this then I'd never post it and I've been doing that far too much lately. Anyway, I don't own any of the characters in the story, so that basically rules me out as J.K Rowling's alter-ego, in case you were wondering.
Review, in case you were about to forget.
"Evening, love," a tall, raven-haired man greeted with a kiss.
"Mmmm. Hello, darling,"
"How was your day?" he took his place at an immaculate, though slightly marred, table while his wife fixed her eyes on him.
She crossed her arms. "You're late."
He glanced over at his plate of cold food before running his hand through his hair, causing his wife to make a face.
"Ah...yes...well we were swamped today. Fifty people must have been in today. There's rumor that Dragon Pox is going around."
"Seriously?"
"I don't know, to tell you the truth. I didn't get any cases today. Just a few burns and some nasty bites. Boring stuff. My guess is that Grumson's trying to get me back for winning that Quidditch bet last week by giving me some widespread panic to contend with."
"Poor dear," she said dryly. "This is why you shouldn't waste your time betting on bloddy Quidditch matches. Their purpose is to make you hoarse or break your neck, depending on if you're watching or playing, not bring the wrath of a sore loser on your head." He rolled his eyes as she waved her wand and ribbons of steam swirled from his supper.
A companionable silence fell between the two as the man shovled heaping forkfuls into his mouth. The woman was content to sit at the table and watch him devour her cooking.
"So what has James been up to all day?"
"Sirius came over for a few hours, hence the new dent in the table." He chuckled lightly as she pointed to the offending spot.
"He's not staying over?"
"No, his uncle came to get him at five. His mother wanted him home, he said." The man visibly tensed at the mention of Mrs. Black. Seeing this, his wife continued. "Anyway, I think they wore themselves out."
"I think they wore you out more than they did themselves," he joked.
"They did," she agreed, enthusiastically nodding her head. "I need to find out where they get all that energy and nab some for myself."
"Poor dear," he mocked. "Just you wait, in a few days he'll be at Hogwarts, and when he comes back he might have a girlfriend."
James, who had been listening to his parents entire conversation from the top of the stairs made a face. There was no way he was going to walk around holding a girl's hand, buying her presents, kissing her by the lake or anything like that. His father was a very clever man, but obviously was having a lapse into stupidity at the moment.
"Oh don't look so horrified. You can't avoid it forever," a deep voice chasitised from beneath him. "I saw a girl about James' age today and she's already well on her way to becoming a young woman." James made another face that was, if possible, more disgusted than the first. "James is going to have to keep up with his female peers. He can't be a little boy forever."
"Do you know what time it is?"
"Half-past nine. Is the clock off or something?"
"No, but do you know where your son is right now?"
"In bed?"
"That's right. In bed. Do you think that a boy who's in bed by half-past nine is going to spend all his waking hours chasing girls?"
James scowled at the bannister opposite him. He was not a little boy, like his mother thought. He hadn't gone to bed before half-past ten since term ended. He and Sirius were learning how to become Animagi, and were helping Peter along with it.
He was thirteen and about to start his third year at Hogwarts, where already he was smarter than some of the fifth years. He was a teenager, for Merlin's sake. If he didn't want a girlfriend it wasn't because he wasn't ready for one but because none of the girls his age caught his eye.
"You're being ridiculious, you know." the man said.
"Yes, but he's barely thirteen."
"He's been thirteen for nine months."
James didn't want to hear any more, so he silently crept back into his room. He and Sirius had come up with a few more reasons to add to the "Why Snape is a Git List" during his visit and he wanted to jot them down on the running list they kept before he forgot them.
Reason 56: He doesn't blink.
Reason 57: McGonnagal flinches when he talks to her.
Reason 58: He doesn't cover his mouth when he sneezes.
Reason 59:
"He stalks us, James, I swear. Did you see how many times he walked by our compartment?" Sirius' eyes were wide with excitement. The sorting hat had just begun to sing his annual song, meaning that in a matter of minutes his plate would be filled with food enough to feed a family.
"Ugh, don't remind me Sirius. I'd like to have an appetite for the feast," moaned Peter.
"Really, mate, he probably was just walking around because he didn't have a place to sit," James mock scolded. "I can't immagine who'd let him sit with them."
The four boys burst into a fit of muffled laughter, casting a few glances over at Snape's usual place at the end of the Slytherin table.
"Ahem," James felt someone touch his shoulder. It was Lily Evans. He watched her bring a pale finger gracefully to her lips as a soft "shhhh" escaped them. It took him two moments too long to comprehend what she was saying, but when he did, he also realized that he had been staring at Lily Evans.
"Sorry," he whispered loudy to her as he elbowed Sirius to shut up.
"Ow!" he said loudly enough to gain the stares from fifteen or so surrounding students. "What was that for?"
"Quiet," he hissed as sent Lily what he hoped was his most endearing smile.
She gave him a odd look before focusing on Professor McGonnagal as she read the names of the incoming first years. James followed suit as did his friends, and the four of them remained on good behavior for the rest of the feast.
James kept glancing over at Lily between bites of mashed potatoes, trying to dechipher what exactly what different about her this year. As the plates cleared he chanced another look, but this she noticed.
Not knowing what to do, he smiled shyly, or at least what what shly for him. Their eyes made contact for a fleeting second before she broke contact and stared at her empty plate. James could see a deep blush creep up her neck to her cheeks and forehead. He had no idea what her problem was but he had a feeling that this girl would drive his mum crazy over Christmas, whether she knew it or not.
And there you have it. Sorry about all the mechanical errors and whatnot I'm sure there are. Mechianical isn't the right word, but I'm apologizing for the fact that obviously I have no idea how to upload files correctly and whatnot. It's short, and not the best story ever written, but if I held on to it for a minute longer, convinced that I would go back and edit this then I'd never post it and I've been doing that far too much lately. Anyway, I don't own any of the characters in the story, so that basically rules me out as J.K Rowling's alter-ego, in case you were wondering.
Review, in case you were about to forget.