He twitches.
Across the table from him, Professor Longbottom stares. James knows he thinks it's funny - but it isn't.
Not really.
He'd be laughing insanely if Mum had told Al to give Professor Longbottom his love. He'd be cackling if she had told Rose, even, or Lily. Lily who isn't even at Hogwarts yet, and whose reputation wouldn't be ruined, and who showers everyone with love anyway.
He scowls.
Across the table from him, Professor Longbottom smiles.
"You're very good at Herbology, James," he says kindly. James doesn't smile back; he's too busy looking anywhere but his professor's face. "Maybe even top of the class."
James doesn't like that. He knows that he should probably take it as a compliment; after all, he was never top of the class last year. He was barely even above average - he was below average in Defense Against the Dark Arts, even. He doesn't want, nor does he need, to become top of the class for Herbology.
Neville looks at him. "Look," he says, placing his hands palm-down on the table between them. "Herbology is great. You want to go out and save the world, go do that. But you need to understand that you aren't your father, Mr Potter."
James cringes.
Across the table from him, Professor Longbottom waits.
James looks down at his hands. They're ink-stained; he last picked up a Quill yesterday, and when he was showering he didn't wash them off. He thinks the stains are pretty, almost, but not exactly. It's not quite the word. The ink stains stand out against his skin, covering the pale freckles on his hands.
Professor Longbottom watches.
"Yeah," he says. "Maybe."
Because like the ink stains, James knows that he belongs. The ink stains feel at home on his skin, like the dirt beneath his nails and the freckles on his nose. James loves his family, loves them to death, almost, but he can't be a war hero. He can tackle raging plants in place of Death Eaters, maybe, while Al and Lily go off to become Aurors.
But he'll like it, he decides, and like the ink stains, he won't try to wash his hands of them.
He's pretty sure they won't wash their hands of him, either.
Still. James looks up, and into Professor Longbottom's eyes.
"That's good," Neville smiles. He has a kind smile, reminiscent of the days when he was but a schoolboy with no direction in life. "I can help you, James. So can your mother and your father. You know that, right?"
James manages a nod.
He wonders where the decision came from. Maybe it's been lurking away at him all this time; maybe Professor Longbottom saw his potential. Maybe he idolises the older man too much for his own good, and maybe he'll regret it later, when his family are all Aurors and War Heroes and Saviours of the Wizarding World.
But he's content, he thinks, with his ink stains and his dirty fingernails. He's content with being different than his family; he's content with being Professor Longbottom and his grandfather and a Potter. Maybe he's content with his decision, too.
"Professor Longbottom?" he says.
Across the table from him, Professor Longbottom blinks.
"Mum told me to give you her love."
He's gone from the room with a hasty smile and a departing wave, off to wander the corridors and avoid his friends and family. Maybe he'll find a new tunnel, or discover a wonderful room, or stumble into a lurking, pale-haired boy. And maybe he'll start a friendship with that boy, and separate himself from his family even further.
More ink might stain him, and more memories that his siblings won't share, and more and more he'll wrestle in the dirt with a raging plant and wear earmuffs when dealing with Mandrakes. Maybe he'll adopt the earmuffs as his signature item, and maybe he'll discard them when Lily gets a pair for Christmas. Maybe he'll go home with the pale-haired boy for the holidays, and maybe he'll meet his too-polite father.
Maybe they'll chase peacocks and try to grow Devil's Snare and refuse to step into certain rooms. Maybe they'll write letters to James' family, charmingly polite and with only the occasional jab at his younger brother. Maybe he'll come back to Hogwarts to find Lily All Grown Up now, and Albus talking with the old headmasters' portraits.
And maybe they'll all grow apart. But sure as the ink stains on his hands, they'll never fully depart each other. Like the ink stains on his hands, maybe James will stand out more and more against his family. But Professor Longbottom's there, and James has his memories and his red-and-gold scarf and his pale-haired boy, and it doesn't really matter in the end, because he's still a Potter.
Rushed? Yes, no doubt about it. But I love the potential for these new characters, even if I didn't particularly like the epilogue in general. So this series of one-shots, probably connected, will be to help me expand my "knowledge" of them before I start writing chaptered stories... if ever.
I think it goes without saying that I do not own Harry Potter. The only thing I can claim is my take on the kids' personalities, and even that opinion is bound to be shared by someone out there.