Summary: James arrives home from King's Cross Station. Please, review!
Chapter One: Home, Sweet Home
James stepped out of the boxcar. His wiry, black hair flopped up and down as he hopped down the few steps onto the platform. Following closely behind was a very tall, thin, dark haired boy. His grey eyes gleamed in thesetting sun peaking in between spires and metal roofing. Next followed a lanky, older looking boy. His hair was the color of wet sand and hung over his clear blue eyes in clumps. The boys walked together towards the grouped families waiting to take their children home for the summer.
"Wait! James!" A short, chubby boy with mousey brown hair ran towards the three taller boys. "Sirius…Remus," he muttered between gasps for air. "I…lost…my breath."
"Oy, Wormtail, you better go find it," said the tallest boy as a roguish grin stretched across his face.
"Ha ha, Sirius. I only wanted to say goodbye," he drawled.
Sirius wrapped a long arm around Peter's shoulder. "You softie, Pete."
Remus smiled sheepishly and sighed, "We'll be back in three months."
James ignored all of this as he searched the station for any sign of red. "James? Looking for Lily are you?" Sirius called, jogging to meet him.
"I thought I should say goodbye to my future wife. Show her my manners, you know?" James gracefully, and much too animatedly, explained.
"If by future wife you mean future citizen of England, and by manners you mean the loathsome nausea you inspire in her, then, yeah, sure," Remus chimed in.
"She'll come around. Don't you worry your furry little head, Moony."
"You'll see her next year, Prongs," Sirius reasoned.
As they reached the crowd, the boys said their goodbyes and dispersed.
Mrs. Potter, an older, pretty woman of medium height walked with James to a pub a block away from King's Cross. Upon entering, she gestured her son towards the line formed before the large mantle. "James, you've hardly spoken a word to me at all."
"Sorry, Mum. Just tired from the train ride is all," he explained.
After changing out of his robes,James tiredly walked down stairs. "What's the matter? All you've done is mope since we've left the station. Miss your friends already, do you?" James plopped down on stool in the kitchen. "And what about that Lily girl? You miss her loads already, I'd bet."
"Na. Well… I dunno. When's dad getting home?" He attempted to steer the conversation elsewhere. He didn't like the idea of discussing his 'love life' with his mother.
"Oh, he'll be home in a few minutes," she muttered, as she levitated a pot of potatoes into the sink for peeling and washing. She smiled brightly as she peered between the curtains of the kitchen widow. "Come have a look, James. The Browns are having their niece over for the summer. The poor girl has done nothing but help her auntie cook and clean. Hardly a vacation, I think," she finished, with a sympathetic smirk. James distractedly stood from him seat and sauntered to his mother's side. He ducked his head and peeked through the yellow cloth curtains. A small silhouette disappeared into the screen door of the veranda. Then a light switched on. A girl with tied back, light-brown hair took a seat on the wicker furniture just outside the door of the Browns'. James stepped back and leaned on the counter beside the sink. "She's a little older than you, just finished school actually, but maybe you two will get along together," Mary innocently suggested.
"What are you going on about, Mum? I already have friends, I don't need any more."
"Oh, sulk, sulk, sulk. That ginger-head has you wrapped around her finger." James frowned in a mixture of embarrassment and confusion.
"Have you really stopped corresponding with Sirius?"
"How else am I to know what you're up to? You don't tell me a thing." James grunted in defeat.
"Can you just —just not bring her up?" James asked, taking another glace out the window.
"Did you have a fight?" Mary eagerly asked.
"Mum!" James growled. He returned his gaze out the window. The girl lounged on the wicker loveseat with a book in her lap. The light flickered as a breeze swept by and the front door slammed shut.
"James?" a voice called from the foyer.
"Dad's here!"
"Pass me the broccoli, Mary?"
"Dad, here, I've got it."
"James, do you have any idea what you want to do for your birthday?"
"He's still got a week or so to decide, Mary."
"Well, actually, I was thinking about having a party here."
"Well, your father and I will discuss it later, dear."
"But I thought we were going to discuss it now. Why else would you bring it up?"
"Pass me a roll, James?" James rolled his eyes and passed a dinner roll to his mother.
"We'll talk about it later," Daniel whispered and winked to his son. James smiled inwardly and poked at his meatloaf.
"So, Daniel, I was thinking about, maybe, inviting the Browns over for dinner. How does that sound?" Mary brightly suggested.
"May I be excused?" James choked out between meatloaf-coughs.
"That's fine, dear. But, are you sure you're all right? Do you feel ill at all?" Mary carefully questioned. Daniel put down his fork and scrutinized the boy with squinting eyes.
"No, I'm fine. I'm just tired," he explained.
"Well, sleep in tomorrow. Don't worry about getting up. You need rest," Daniel insisted.
"Okay. Goodnight then," James called, already half way up the stair case.
"Is he all right?" Mary thoughtfully asked her husband.
"I'm sure he's fine. But I'm not so sure about a dinner with the Browns. You know how I feel about that old fool, Colin."
"You're just as old and just as foolish, Daniel," Mary reminded him. He chuckled and smiled lovingly at Mary.
"Right you are about that. But this table isn't big enough for the two of us."