A/N; This fanfiction dedicates to a special person in my life. She's the Lily to my James and I'm completely smitten by her beauty and her intelligence. Scratch that, it isn't a fan fiction because the Jily relationship is very real to me. I hope you enjoy it and I hope she does too.

The Life of James Potter

First year; 1971.

"Mum, have you seen my satchel? I can't find it anywhere!" James shouted from the very top floor of his home, he wasn't really searching for it so to speak, he was pretending to.

More than three seconds later, James heard the thunderous terrifying footsteps of his mother coming up the two sets of stairs. Why didn't he start running as soon as he heard her? He stood there, eleven years old, in his pants, hair a mess and only wearing a shirt. The wooden door to his bedroom whooshed open, slamming so hard against his wall he could have sworn a few trophies from Junior Quidditch had fallen from their places on his single shelf. His mother stood there, arms crossed over her rather large chest as if in some kind of disappointment in James.

"James Charlus Potter, how many times?" his mother shrieked, swatting the young wizard with her tea towel. "I am mother, not mum. Now, what did you say?" Mrs Potter questioned him as if it was an interrogation and he had done something terribly wrong.

James wasn't one to cower away from his mother and hide. But he had lost his satchel at least six times before and he wasn't too sure on telling her again. The boy rocked on his feet, hands behind his back and gripping his new cloak like his life depended on it. It probably did. "I've lost my satchel." he mumbled quietly.

Mrs Potter kneeled over, her back straining in her old age. "I'm sorry, dear. I didn't quite hear you." she said rather calmly, the strands of her ageing grey hair falling over her shoulders.

"I've lost my satchel." James bravely said, his chest puffed out in some kind of defence from his mother.

Mrs Potter's face grew as red as a tomato. She leaned back up incredibly slowly, hand on her back from the pain splicing through her delicate spine. She would have shouted at him, but the boy standing at the height of 4'10ft had already ran past her. How dare he! Dorea Potter raced down the two sets of stairs after her son, his small legs moving as fast as they would. Mrs Potter couldn't help the laughter erupting around their home, she did love pretending to scare James.

James pushed open another wooden door, jumping out into the garden covered with large trees and fancy coloured flowers Mrs Potter had grown from seeds. James' dark hair pushed back with each gust of wind, his smile staying on his face as he explored their garden, arms out as if he was a Spitfire plane from the Second World War his father had told him so much about in the Muggle world. Not as impressive as a flying car or a broomstick, he had to admit. His bare feet intertwined with the long green grass beneath him, not a single bit of mud in sight. James loved the space in their garden, he loved to practice magic with his older brother and watch his father play Quidditch on Saturday afternoons. He wanted to practice magic right this second, he wanted to be at Hogwarts right now. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where his older brother attended and his parents had to before him.

"Little brother, must you run around like that?" A voice startled James as he ran, the small boy grabbed his school trousers from the impressive washing line that floated in the air, his legs stopping just before he slammed straight into his older brother.

Gregor Potter stood a whole foot bigger than James. His slightly startling and frightening dark blue eyes glared down at the young boy. Gregor was two years older than James and about to start his third year at Hogwarts. He wore a long dark cloak much like James' but instead of it being completely black, his had long green colours on each side of the cloak, matching the green logo that looked a lot like a snake. James had been in the dark about the houses of Hogwarts, all he knew was that it was a school that taught magic and his brother attended as well.

"No, Gregor." James gulped, the fear in his eyes must have been obvious. "I shouldn't. It is childish." he answered his brother with the same maturity level as him. He pulled on his trousers and black cloak, it just about fit him apart from the fact each sleeve reached his now pale knuckles.

James stared up at his brother in admiration and slight fear. Gregor had blue eyes, a sharp jawline, messy jet black hair and defined cheekbones James used to poke when he was a toddler. Before Gregor could say another word, their mother appeared infront of James, almost pushing Gregor from him. Mrs Potter kneeled down to James' level of height, her wrinkly hands gently gripped the collar of James' shirt as she tied his tie. The dark haired boy followed Gregor with his eyes, he had stalked away from them and back inside the house, a dull look on his face. James never understood why Gregor always looked so angry, he wondered if it was because their parents were disappointed in him.

"Now, James, darling," Mrs Potter sighed, grabbing both of his small hands. She had caught his attention. "You mustn't pull any of your silly little pranks at Hogwarts, it is forbidden and father will be very cross with you if you disobey us."

James nodded but secretly he had a tiny smirk on his face. "I promise, mother. No pranks." he said, letting go of Mrs Potter's hand as he ran back inside to find his satchel. His first day at Hogwarts was going to be interesting, to say the least.

James stood at the start of the 9 ¾ platform, his heart hammering against his ribcage as he fought back his on-going fear of being placed in a house he didn't like. He pushed his cart forward, full of two huge suitcases, his school supplies and a cage that trapped a brown owl that would help communicate with his parents over school. Much like a boarding school, he thought. His mother's old hand rested on his right shoulder, his father's on his left and Gregor quickly moving ahead of them. Gregor didn't say goodbye to their parents and at first, James thought it was weird. But, Mr and Mrs Potter carried on as if nothing was wrong. James played close attention to who Gregor ran towards, a group of tall boys wearing the same cloak as he was and disappeared onto the train with them. James didn't pout nor did he whine about Gregor, he was much braver than that.

"Boy, you be good," Mr Potter mumbled as if it was the first words he had spoken in years with his smokers voice and added cough. "No exploding Firewhiskey bottles, no detentions and certainly no going into the Forbidden Forest." he finished, his hand ruffling James' already messy hair.

James nodded sluggishly. "Yes, father." he sighed and turned his head to look at Mrs Potter who was apparently on the verge of tears. He didn't understand why, he could still write to his parents every night.

"D- do as your father says, James. We want you to be good." Mrs Potter sniffed, a tissue crunched up in her hand from all the crying she was about to do. James had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Stay out of trouble? Him? Merlin's beard, that was highly unlikely.

After Mrs Potter had covered James' face in kisses and embarrassed him to its full potential, she reluctantly left the platform after Mr Potter dragged her from their youngest son. James turned back around to his cart and pushed it until he found an open door to the train. He smiled rather brightly as he found a compartment to sit in, sliding the door open to make sure he didn't slam his fingers in it. The boy sat down next to a well-dressed boy of the same age, only a few inches taller than he was with dark long hair and brown eyes. His face was thin and worn as if he hadn't eaten in days. James decided he would befriend this boy, or at least try to.

"James," he said, catching the boy's attention. "James Potter."