James sucked in a rattling breath. His letter was supposed to have come three days ago. Letters didn't just get lost like that. He couldn't be a squib. He'd shown signs of magic, right? Maybe they'd decided that he wouldn't be able to go? He shook his head. There was no use in worrying about it. His letter would come. He was sure of it.

He pushed himself up off of the ground, the dewy grass leaving a sticky residue on the palms of his hands. James wiped them on his pants and headed inside.

Mum, he signed when he reached the lounge where she was sitting, attempting to knit, has my letter come yet?

"No, not yet sweetie. I'm sure it'll be here soon," she reassured him.

But it's so late! I'm worried. What if I'm not – he stopped, unwilling to finish the sentence.

"If you don't get your letter then I'll personally march into Professor Dumbledore's office and give him a piece of what's coming to him. Maybe your father'll be back from his mission in time to join me, too."

I don't like it when you and Dad go on missions. James' lower lip trembled slightly, I keep thinking that you'll never come back.

"Aww, James. Don't think like that. Your father and I are perfectly capable,"

But so are they. James replied.

"Look. How many times have we been out on missions?"

Lots.

"Uh huh, and how many times have we come back to you after?"

James turned a light shade of pink.

"See? You've got nothing to worry about." she reached out and grabbed his arms, dragging him forwards into a hug. She was attempting to smother James in kisses (an attempt that was failing almost as badly as her knitting) when a small elf entered the room.

"Tammy is telling Mistress Mia and Master James that breakfast is ready."

James took this opportunity to wiggle out of his mother's arms. He stuck his tongue out at her and ran past the elf, into the dining room. Euphemia was right behind him. She caught her son around the middle and pressed the wet kisses onto his head. He wiped the kisses off.

Gross. he signed at her. He sat down and piled his plate high with food, signing a quick thank you to the elf still standing in the doorway.

An owl tumbled in through the window about halfway through breakfast. Euphemia unfastened the letter.

James looked at her curiously. Is it my letter?

"No." Euphemia shook her head, "It's from the Ministry,"

Oh. James' face fell. What's wrong?

He stood up and moved around the table so that he could read the letter too. Euphemia shook open the letter, scanning it through.

"Oh," she said softly, once she had finished reading the letter, "Oh. I'm so sorry, James."

You're leaving me alone again? He signed, devastated, Already? You only got back four days ago!

"I know, baby. I hate leaving you alone like this. I wouldn't go if I didn't have to."

Why can't somebody else go?

"You know why. We're already short-staffed, James. We've lost lots of Aurors already and with You-Know-Who on the rise we can't afford to be idle. I'm surprised it took this long before I was called back in, really."

Euphemia stood up from her chair.

Don't go. I don't want to be alone again. He signed frantically. Please.

"You know I can't stay, James," she said softly, pressing a light kiss to her son's forehead, "war waits for no one."

She ruffled his hair lightly and left the room, her half eaten plate of food still sitting on the table.

Euphemia flooed off of the property after a hasty goodbye. James stood, staring at the empty fireplace long after she'd disappeared through it. He hardly noticed as a second owl flew through the window, the letter he'd been anticipating for weeks attached to its leg.

James didn't acknowledge the owl's presence until it flew onto his shoulder, nipping his ear hard. He untied the letter from the owl's leg and allowed it to fly off.

He turned his gaze back to the fireplace for a moment, willing his mother to return. He dumped himself down in the nearest armchair and ripped the letter open, not caring to preserve the yellowing parchment of the envelope or the slanting green letters spilling across it.

Receiving his letter was supposed to be a happy moment, but he'd always imagined that he would have done it while his parents were there too. He imagined how their faces would have lit up with excitement to know that their son was going to Hogwarts, despite the fact that they'd never doubted that he'd get in in the first place. He imagined his father clapping him on the back and telling him that he'd known it all along and his mother hugging him tight, telling him how proud she was. The thought brought a shadow of a smile back onto his face.

It took him a few minutes to find one of the house-elves.

"What can Hetty do for Master James?" asked the elf, putting down the rag it was using to dust one of the mahogany bookshelves.

James showed Hetty the letter.

"Is both Master Monty and Mistress Mia gone again?" said Hetty, not unkindly.

James nodded. Can you help me write a reply, please? I don't have a clue how.

"Yes, sir." replied the elf, handing back the letter and starting off towards the study, looking back every few seconds to check that James was still following.

Half an hour later the reply was sent.

"When does Master James wish to buy his school things?" asked Hetty, before James could run off.

What's the latest I can leave it? He signed.

"No later than three days before Master James leaves for school, sir."

Okay. We'll wait and if Mum or Dad hasn't come back by then I guess we'll just have to go without them.

James thanked the elf and went outside, his bare feet collecting dew and a few loose bits of grass. He got his broom from the shed and flew a few times around the makeshift Quidditch pitch in the backyard. He swooped down and picked a battered Quaffle off the ground, flying back up before tossing it in the air, catching it easily each time, but Quidditch just wasn't fun when you had no one to play it with.

He flew down, jumping off his broom before he reached the ground and wishing desperately that he had siblings so that he wouldn't be so lonely. He wasn't alone, of course. The Potters had three elves but they weren't much fun to hang around with, preferring mundane activities such as cleaning, cooking and gardening to anything that James liked to do.

James knew why his parents left, and this certainly wasn't the first time they'd done so, but he couldn't help but wish that they had chosen some job other than being Aurors, or even not worked at all – they certainly had enough money to – but they had told him countless times that they simply would not be content to sit around all day – they wanted to do some good in the world, and James understood that, and he felt selfish for wanting them all to himself, but he just couldn't stop himself from wishing.

A/N - Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please review!