Hello!
This little story is my pride and joy and was originally posted on HPFF in - I wanna say maybe - 2016ish? 17? I honestly don't remember and since the site shut down, it's anyone's guess.

The story is five chapters long (aka five calls) and is complete; it used to have around 50 reviews (humblebrag? honest brag? you choose).

ENJOY!

August 2029

James was hovering idly above the grass, trying to enjoy the sun and think about something to do to fill yet another summer afternoon that was threatening to kill him with boredom; being off-season sucked. And having to admit that Al's disappearance to his girlfriend's house and Lily's need to study for her Auror exam robbed him of any enjoyable activity was just sad.

When had he become so pathetic?

He hated Sundays.

The discreet vibration in his pocket roused him from those thoughts; his phone screen proudly presented him with a private number call and he answered, having nothing better to do.

"Hello?"

"You have no idea what a shitty day I just had," answered an unknown female voice, clearly distraught.

"Hard to beat mine."

She completely ignored him.

"No, really, the worst. Abby called me yesterday to ask me if I could watch her stupid kids and of course I, being a genuinely good - if naive - sister, told her yes. What an idiot. And she thinks she's being so sneaky, you know, but I got the pattern by now - it's been three Sundays of babysitting. I wonder what she's been doing," she rambled, before humming thoughtfully. "Not another nephew, I hope."

James snickered, caught off guard.

She huffed.

"Don't laugh at my pain, Vic. Anyway! You know what those two little spawns of the devil did to me?"

"I can only imagine," said James, lounging on his broom, leaving the hard job of entertaining him to that funny voice.

"No, you can't. First, they decided they had to go to the park and I was like sure, let's enjoy the sun, maybe we can get ice cream, you know, I was staying positive. Of course, when we got there – you know, the one where we used to smoke?"

"How could I forget?" He asked, smiling at the thought of being fifteen and exploring the wondrous activity of taking drugs with Fred and Dominique.

He missed being a teenager, sometimes.

"Exactly. Well, they disappeared, Vic. In less than ten seconds I had lost the precious heirs to a mob of snotty kids and gossiping mothers. And you know me, right? When in doubt, panic."

He had to smile.

"Excellent strategy."

"I swear to fucking Merlin, I had to look everywhere. I should have listened to ma when she'd told me to cast a tracking charm on their cute little asses but no, of course I had also left my wand at home. Finally, after two hours of sweating, swearing and dodging toy brooms, I found them."

"That doesn't sound so bad, c'mon."

"Oh, my sweet summer child." She sighed, teasing. "This is just the beginning."

"You make it sound apocalyptic. Should I sit down?"

"Please, do. I don't want you on my conscience, as well. The heirs are enough."

"What did you even do to them?"

"Me? I didn't do anything! But those little blights were playing Exploding Snap when I found them and another kid – not one under my jurisdiction, fortunately – made the whole thing explode on their faces. Sarah's eyebrows were gone and Kyle was howling desperately!"

"Thank Merlin I sat down. What did you do?"

"Well, I Apparated them to St. Mung because you know I suck at growing hair back – not that I had my wand, anyway – and if Abby found out I was bound to a lengthy discussion about my incurable immaturity, and somehow she would have ended up telling me that's why I haven't had a boyfriend in years. Sarah's eyebrows were so not worthy."

"Abby doesn't sound so nice."

"No, ok, I was being harsh. I love her but you know her, she just is too perfect to contemplate the fact that anybody else wouldn't be. Her perfect house with her perfect husband and adorable kids…"

"Weren't they blights?"

"Yes, of my existence, but you can't deny they're the cutest. Anyway, guess who I ran into at the hospital?"

"Er… Abby's perfect dog?"

She laughed and James felt like he'd just been hit by a bludger: her laugh was rich, sparkling, unguarded. His smile widened.

"Merlin, a joke! The last time you made one I had just bought my first training bra. What happened to the intellectual/hipster phase?"

"Boring."

"Couldn't agree more. Anyway, no, it wasn't her dog. I met Louis."

"Weasley?"

"The one and only, obviously. Fucking hell."

James raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Amen. What happened?"

"Oh, you know, I was covered in sweat and cinder and I hadn't washed my hair since the last full moon, while he was all tall and handsome in his stupid black jeans – you know, the one I gave him for our last anniversary – what an asshole," she digressed, adorably flustered. "And, y'know, with the decorative centerpiece that he calls girlfriend hooked on his arm, smirking and being generally poncey."

James cursed his complete inability to remember anything that didn't revolve around Quidditch as he tried to think about Louis' ex-girlfriends. Unfortunately, he was Lily's age and they had never seen each other much.

His love life was an utter mystery. James didn't even know who the current centerpiece was.

But at least that placed the adorable voice owner around twenty-one or two. She had probably been at Hogwarts during his years.

"I might need to use my gran's smelling salts to get through this," said James, thoroughly amused at the chance of an accidental trashing of one of his many cousins.

"I don't think so, sunshine," she retorted snappily, with a hint of humor. "I had to live through the painfully awkward experience of being introduced to her – and the stupid bint didn't even remember me – without any help. Get a grip, Vic."

"I profusely apologize."

"Who even uses profusely? Are you ok?"

"Sorry, I was skimming through the dictionary to keep myself awake."

"Very funny, Vic. Anyway. I thought that was it, right? But no, after I collected the pests and was ready to go back home, Louis was waving at me so I waved back, and my top's strap just gave up."

James laughed, hard, happy he had picked up the phone.

"Stop laughing. It wasn't nice," she muttered half-heartedly.

"I daresay the centerpiece was really jealous."

"Stop teasing, prick."

"I prefer James."

"Oh, I like it," she answered, unfazed. "Very old-fashioned, like a stuffy lord dining with the Queen. Surname?"

"Potter."

"Now, Vic, there's no need to aim that high."

"Why?"

"I like you even if your dad didn't save the world. Actually, he does save it every time he makes lasagnas. When are you going to bring me some, anyway?"

"Not soon, I'm afraid. Dad is very good at offing Dark Lords but he can't cook anything except a mean omelet."

"…"

"Hey, you there?"

"You're not Victor." Not a question. James was almost sad.

"I'm afraid not, darling."

"I…" she breathed. "Oh, Merlin, I'm so sorry…"

"Please, don't be. You brightened my afternoon."

"It's just that when I start talking I can't stop, really, it's a curse."

"It's not that bad, c'mon. You're funny."

"Thanks… ah, ehm…I should go."

"Oh, you women," James sighed, good-naturedly "Always ready to flee when there aren't lasagnas involved."

"Oh, you men," she echoed, amusement clear in her voice. "Always ready to take advantage of unsuspecting, talkative girls."

There was a pause.

"I really should go, now. Again, I'm truly sorry."

"Stop apologizing," answered James. "And say hi to the heirs."

Her laugh was just beautiful.

"Bye."

"Adios."

A clarification here - I have the headcanon that wizards have revolutionized their stance on muggle technology after a few years of rebuilding and have adapted stuff like phones and TVs to work in a magical environment. (I might expand on this in another fic in the future).

To avoid confusion, all magical phone numbers start with 949 (WIZ) so even if you get it wrong, you're sure not to break the Statute by accidentally calling a muggle.