Full Summary: For years, James Paton has dreamed of magic. She's read countless books and played pretend to her heart's content, but none of it could have prepared her for the shock of Albus Dumbledore turning up on her doorstep to inform her that she herself was a witch. What's more, is that there seem to be some gaps in the story. Why was her magic never picked up on until three years late? What makes her so special? And why does last summer have some inexplicable gaps? Follow James Paton through the second wizarding war and learn the stories of lesser-known characters in the Harry Potter Universe. This story is designed to fit in with canon as much as possible, although there will be some slight differences. I am currently estimating that there will be 50-70 chapters by the end of the story. Enjoy!
I also want to mention that while this story will start off as quite light, there will be some triggering topics such as sexual assault and anxiety/depression mentioned and by the end of the story, it may be quite dark. I will include trigger warnings on sensitive chapters but please be advised that some readers may find this story distressing.
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It was a hot summer's day in mid-July 1993. The temperature had reached well over ninety-five degrees and the permanent smell of sunscreen, salt, and sweat was made stronger by the heat and hung in the air like a thick blanket. The faint crashing of waves was just barely audible over the splashes and shrieks of children playing at Turtle Cove Pool in Surf City, North Carolina.
Sat behind the counter at the entrance of the pool was a tall thirteen-year-old girl. Her long blonde hair was pulled into a loose bun at the nape of her neck and she leaned lazily against her hand which was propped up on the cool granite counter. Why anyone would choose to go to the pool when the ocean was two blocks away was beyond her, but at least it gave her a job. Her uncle was the manager of the poolhouse and had allowed her to 'help out' the last two summers since she was technically below the legal age requirement for a part-time job. However, seeing as she lived with her uncle during the summers they were able to make it a fair arrangement.
It was exciting to have a job. It wasn't particularly hard work either. All the girl had to do was take money from people who wanted to go to the pool and empty trashcans or spray down the toilets when the line was quiet. In return, she got to earn some pocket money and fill the missing comfort of a daily routine that was usually provided by school.
The square red clock on the wall behind her read two fifty-eight. The fluorescent light flickered above and a small bug was flittering around inside the small office. She took a sip from her water bottle but spilled half of it over her faded t-shirt as a group of small boys ran past on the slippery concrete and she yelled at them to walk. How annoying. She reached over to a box of tissues and was so busy trying to dry herself off that she hardly noticed when a new family approached the register.
"Dad, you've got to pay first!" a girl's voice whispered.
"Right- um. Ahem," a man cleared his voice. The girl looked up, astonished to see a family of seven, all of them with flaming red hair, standing before her. What stood out most about the family wasn't even that they all had the same bright hair color, but was instead the haphazard way they had all chosen to dress. The man in front of her, clearly the father, was wearing red and yellow parachute pants, a tye-dyed tank top, and a silver bomber jacket even though it was boiling hot outside. The woman, clearly his wife, was wearing a long brown pleated skirt with a bright blue velvet tracksuit top zipped all the way up and a strange assortment of Mardi Gras bead necklaces dangling from her neck and wrists. Their five children dressed more passably, but even they seemed to lack coordination. "Suppose that'll be the seven of us then-" the man's wife nudged him, "two adults and five kids."
The family all smiled at her expectantly, she thought she detected a British accent but couldn't be sure over all the shrieking from the pool. "Right, so it's two-fifty for adults and a dollar for kids, so that'll be... ten dollars," she said.
The man fumbled around in a small leather pouch until the youngest child, and the only girl, finally stepped forward and whispered "this one Dad," and he produced a crisp unused ten-dollar bill. They were definitely British. The small red-headed girl smiled and blushed slightly at the blonde girl behind the counter, as though embarrassed for her father's incompetence. It didn't matter much to her though, around here plenty of people couldn't tell their left from the right.
The girl clicked some buttons on the cash register, and it popped open with a bright ding. Just barely in her line of vision, a huge smile came across the man's face. He laughed and exclaimed, "Brilliant!" as though thoroughly impressed and ran his hand over his balding head. The girl frowned slightly with the thought that he was perhaps making fun of her flashing through her head, but she opted to smile warmly instead. "What a lovely little contraption. How do you-"
"Arthur!" the man's question was interrupted by his wife who looked scandalized. He seemed to remember himself before saying, "Well, good'day then," quite cheerfully. The family turned to walk through the gates of the pool.
"Wait, Dad," one of the boys spoke this time. He and his twin brother stepped forward to the front desk, both of them tall with brown eyes, messy red hair, and freckles. They were almost exactly identical. "Is there somewhere we can change into our swimming costumes?"
"Um, over there," the girl pointed across the hall to the bathrooms.
"Cheers mate," said the boy and he winked at her. He actually winked at her. The family shuffled over to the bathrooms to change and she smiled inwardly when saw that the boy was wearing striped knee-high socks with army green Birkenstocks.
The second twin remained behind a second further, looking at her thoughtfully for a moment and leaning against the counter. His eyes flickered over her nametag and he opened his mouth as though to say something but then closed it instead. She gave him a pointed look before he finally said, "Looks like you've missed a spot, James," and grinned cheekily before joining his twin brother who was still waiting at the bathroom door. The girl felt her face redden as she looked down to see that even though her t-shirt appeared dry there was still a pee-shaped spill on her shorts. She looked up in time to see the twins laughing furiously as they disappeared behind the door and caught a snippet of the word 'muckles'.
An hour later, James was more than happy that her shift was up. The heat was nearly unbearable cramped inside that tiny office and all the noise was beginning to give her a headache. Saturdays were typically their busiest days and there had been an unending line of customers since the start of her double shift at eight am. Once her replacement had settled into place, James made her way to the staff room to clock out and gather her things. It was a quick walk home, the pool house was only several minutes from the stilted faded-yellow beach house her uncle owned. Her dad traveled overseas for work a lot and her mom had recently gone back to a full-time job so it was just easier to stay with her uncle for the summer.
After some resistance, the glass door swung open and allowed her into the house. There were dishes still piled in the sink from last night and wet towels hung over the side of the couch. The back door, which was very stiff and often got stuck, blew slightly in the wind and was beating against the door frame. It was humid inside and the tile floors were perpetually slick with sunscreen but it was a cozy little house. James didn't even mind that the lights often flickered or that there were spiders and roaches crawling around the damp wooden bones of the house. The house was right on the beachfront which made all of its inconveniences worth it.
The back window gave view to decent-sized waves crashing on the beach outside and hundreds of tourists cramped together on the sand. The little orange flag at the end of the boardwalk was standing still. A line of surfers were already taking advantage of the perfect windless conditions.
After briefly stopping to apply some sunscreen to her face and shoulders the girl ran out the back wooden staircase towards the beach, stripping down to her swimsuit as she ran. Her surfboard was still stuck upright in the sand by the dunes where she had left it two days prior. Leaving her clothes half-buried in the sand, James walked towards the ocean struggling under the weight of her board. She felt slightly embarrassed to be seen so small next to her board barely able to even carry it to the water. The vast number of people sitting on the beach would all be able to see if she wiped out terribly which was not a comforting thought. She was a fairly decent surfer, but the idea of so many people watching her fail was unnerving.
She quickly reached the cool water, which felt incredibly relieving after sitting in the heat for so long, and walked awkwardly further until it hit her knees and she decided to hop onto her board. The waves weren't too strong but by the time she had paddled out past the break, her arms were already burning.
James spotted a wave beginning to swell. She turned and started to paddle furiously towards the shore, beginning to anticipate the thrill of riding it. She was so close, almost there- but another boy got there first. He stood on his board at the perfect moment and rode the wave all the way to shore with lots of impressive-looking cutbacks. James could see a group of pretty teenage girls lounging on the beach smiling and whooping his way, he gave them a grin over his shoulder as he paddled back out. Well, no matter, she'd get the next one.
But by the time the next wave came around, the same boy was waiting just a few paces behind her right in her way. She decided to swim further along the beach to the next gap instead but found that more surfers had joined in and made it impossible to get an opening. They were bigger, and their arms were longer and stronger so she never made it to a wave first. Once, she almost caught one, but the same boy as before somehow paddled right in front of her and forced her to bail unless she wanted to maul him. He yelled something that sounded like sorry in her direction but she didn't miss the laughs he shared among his friends as she turned her head to paddle back out.
The blonde-headed girl began to feel angry. Why did they have to pick on her? In her opinion, they needed to be taken down a few pegs. It was clear at this point that they were trying to spite her. If they could just stop trying to show off for their girlfriends and give her a chance, they'd see she wasn't half bad. She was at least as good as some of the boys, maybe even better than some of the younger ones. Muttering quietly to herself, James kept paddling further out. Her arms were on fire and her back was beginning to burn under the beating sun. Then, there it was. A beautiful perfect wave beginning to swell in the distance. She shot a look back over her shoulder and to her amazement found that all of the other surfers seemed to have fallen off their boards, unable to get back on. It was as though an invisible force was keeping them from climbing back on. The first boy who had been plaguing her even seemed to find his board flipping over and over uncontrollably in the water.
Stealing another glance back, it seemed as though all of the boys were okay. Maybe they were just tired or had decided to give her a go after all? Whatever the reason, she wasn't going to waste the chance. With all her might she paddled towards the shore as the familiar tug of the ocean began to pull her backward. She felt the ocean lifting her from above and just as the wave was about to break she shot up. It was a glorious feeling; the wind and sea spray against her face, the churning water beneath her feet, and a surge of pride for not toppling over. James could feel a smile breaking onto her face and let out a gleeful laugh.
As she got closer to the sand the water slowed down and she thought it better to jump off now before getting too close to the small kids playing in the shallow water. As she fell backward into the water she caught a glimpse of flaming red hair and a familiar freckle-faced smile in her direction. When she surfaced, she looked all around expecting to see one of the boys from the pool but there was no one there. No one who looked like him anyways. It must have been her imagination James told herself, although there was a lurking thought in the back of her mind that said that smile had seemed too real.
Even after that perfect wave, the irritation of being snubbed one too many times was too great to venture back out into the ocean. Besides, it was starting to get late. James slowly clambered out of the water fighting the pull of the waves. She awkwardly lifted the board with a small pop, as it sprung free from the ocean's grasp.
After placing the board back where it belonged and digging her clothes out of the sand James made her way inside to shower off the sweat and sticky sunscreen from the day. The hot water stung slightly against her sunburned skin and began to get cold halfway through but she didn't mind.
With a towel wrapped around her sun-bleached hair, James settled into the corner of the couch and balanced the book Alanna: The First Adventure atop a pillow in her lap. The book's spine was thoroughly creased and the water-stained pages had curled up and dried stiffly. She liked to read. She liked to escape. Not that there was anything particularly wrong with her life, but James had always had a feeling that she didn't belong anywhere.
Since the age of three, she had always been much taller and lankier than the other kids in her grade. She was pretty good at school which other girls teased her for. Her friends often complained at how 'naturally gifted' she was, but James secretly thought that if they spent a little less time worrying about boys and even a little more effort on school then they could do well too. It wasn't that she didn't have friends or had bad friends either. She made friends quite easily actually, but it always felt as though there was an inexplicable, but fundamental, difference between James and other kids her age. Her mom said everyone felt that way at her age though.
She also had a bad habit of hyperfixating on certain subjects and then spending far too much time talking about them to people who couldn't care less. First, it had been bears, then it had been coral reefs, and recently her mind seemed to have settled on the idea of dragons. She had read book after book following heroes and their trusted dragons, leading troops into battle and saving lives. Desperately, she wished dragons were real. She wished magic was real.
It made perfect sense then that her favorite book, the one she had picked up for the tenth time just moments ago, followed the story of a young girl who disguised herself as a boy in order to train as a knight. Alanna proved not only to be the best in her class but to hold magical powers and soon went on to defeat powerful magic beings and gain the respect of her entire realm. James wished more than anything that she could be Alanna and go on such magnificent adventures. It was a nice story, but that's all it was: a story.
The sun began to creep slowly across the sky until a golden glow came peeking in through the windows. It was probably time to go get dinner. It was still swelteringly hot outside as James began to walk to The Grill on the sound side of the island. As she walked, happy families passed her on the dusty streets with little kids sporting ice cream cones and older couples rejoicefully sipping on cold beers. The island was generally a very happy place.
The Grill came into view with a line stretched all the way out the door and wrapping through the parking lot. Saturdays were very busy days all over the island during tourist season. Instead of joining the back of the line James walked to the side of the grey wooden building and swung open the blue staff door. Inside, the kitchens were crowded with cooks bent over stoves and waiters running around anxious to get people's food out. She caught sight of her friend Keith standing over a pot of steaming water with sweat dripping down his neck. He had a slightly worried expression on his face as James sheepishly tapped his shoulder and asked if he could fit in her usual order. He obliged, and ten minutes later James was leaving the kitchens with two paper bags and a tinfoil-wrapped slice of pie.
As she rounded the corner familiar voices began to become clearer and more distinct over the rest of the crowd. "Whyyy couldn't we have just done side-along-addition?" groaned a voice.
"Because, Percy! The whole point of this trip is to see how the muggles live," James wasn't sure what the word muggles meant. It must have been a British term. "Isn't it exhilarating?"
"Besides, you haven't taken your aparishing test yet," said the stern voice of the mother James remembered seeing hours before.
"Well, why do they have to walk so bloody slow then? It's hot outside. If they mean to walk everywhere can't they at least be quick about it?" said the first boy.
"Oi, language!"
The twin that had winked at her earlier let out a mocking gasp. At least she thought it was him, but maybe it was the one who had pointed out her seemingly pee-stained shorts. "Was that- did our perfect Percy just use a swear word?"
"I believe he did, Fred. I wonder what's gotten into our lovely Percykins," exclaimed the second twin.
"Percypoo," crooned the first. James could almost hear the eye roll that the one called Percy gave the twins.
"You two! Give your brother a break, he's a bit tired and the poor thing caught some sun at the pool today and we haven't had time to get a salve yet," the mother ran the back of her hand along Percy's face who was indeed quite red.
She ought to feel bad for him but James couldn't help the smile creeping across her face as she passed the family and saw the twins mocking Percy's arrogant stance behind their parents' back. Another glimpse of the slightly damp red and yellow parachute pants that their father was still wearing sent James into a full fit of laughter.
It was nearly eight by the time James managed to get back to the poolhouse. She knocked once on the peeling door of the manager's office and opened it to find her Uncle Don sitting looking very tired at his desk and running a hand through his dark brown but greying hair. He looked up and gave her a tired smile, the corners of his eyes creased. He reached a dark sun-tanned and very hairy arm over to James to take the bag she was offering him. "The usual?"
She nodded and smiled. He cleared space for her on his desk and she pulled a wooden stool from the corner of the room over to eat. Quite contently she began to eat her meal of tofu, baked beans, fried okra, and cornbread. Uncle Don looked over longingly as he unwrapped his own fish steak with collards and lima beans, no doubt missing his days of fatty burgers and fried onion rings. "I'vegotchu a sliceof pecan pie," she said with her mouth full of cornbread as she placed the slightly crushed tinfoil package on the desk.
His eyes lit up and he said, "Thanks J.," and returned marginally happier back to his own 'heart healthy' meal.
James couldn't help but feel slightly sorry for Uncle Don. His wife had left him unexpectantly several years ago, taking most of the money but leaving him the crumbling beach house which was in constant need of repair. His own kids whom he dotingly called M. and S. were both fully grown and had moved away to the West Coast so he didn't see them much anymore. Of course, he always seemed perfectly happy whenever anyone was around, but James suspected that he enjoyed her coming to stay with him much more than he let on.
"Did you have a good day then?"
"Yeah, pretty uneventful," James paused, reconsidering her coming complaint of how the boys at the beach had tried to keep her from surfing. She didn't want her uncle thinking he needed to defend his niece's honor or anything. Instead, she thought of a more amusing story. "Although I did run into the strangest family at work today," Uncle Don raised his eyebrows inviting her to tell the rest of the story. She told him all about the peculiar family and their bright red hair and British accents. He laughed appropriately when she told him of the colorful parachute pants the father had worn and the strange words they had used when she overheard them at The Grill.
"Ha! Brits," he chuckled. "You should ask your father about what they were saying, maybe you'll be able to figure out what those words mean".
"Maybe I will," she replied, although she doubted he would be around anytime soon to ask.