At first Fae wasn't sure what to think about James Potter coming home. Would he even come home? Sometimes students stayed at Hogwarts, didn't they? But she thought of Fleamont and Euphemia and their warm, festive, fun home and she knew James would certainly be coming home. Then she worried about whether he'd be bringing anybody with him. And by 'anybody' she meant the Marauders - Sirius, Remus, and Peter.
Fuck, she wasn't ready for this. She didn't know if she was ready to deal with Sirius or Remus, let alone Peter. What if James didn't like her? What if they all hated her? They were silly thoughts that made her feel like she was actually 14 again. Growing up chubby and obsessed with fanfiction, she'd never had much in the way of friends. Somewhere around 17, she figured out that she had two really great friends and hobbies that made her happy, so that was all that mattered. She didn't need or want anything else. This was the first time in a long time that she actually cared about someone liking her because the Marauders were, well, the Marauders. Sirius had always been one of her favorites and now he was a real, breathing person.
Taking a dangerously large and hasty chug of her steaming hot coffee, Fae tried to shake herself out of it. They were 14-year-old boys. 14-year-old boys with unimaginable futures, but 14-year-old boys nonetheless. Or, she supposed Sirius was actually already 15. She already knew a lot about them which would help her make friends with them for sure. And besides, she knew that they were all kind, decent people. Except for Peter, probably, but he was young and uncertain and 'worshipped' James at present time. They were all already cool with the werewolf thing, obviously. There was no reason to worry or freak out.
So she quietly panicked anyways and eventually packed up her stuff and jogged home to go talk to Euphemia when she realized she wasn't focusing for shit. At home, Euphemia was in high spirits, belting Christmas carols and whirling garland around every available surface and door frame in the house. Suddenly, Fae was happy she'd come early. Euphemia was even happier for the help and it ended up being an excellent afternoon.
Fae got her answers as well - Euphemia loved to tell stories and it wasn't long before she was off rattling stories about James whilst they hung up 'baby's first ornament' and similar trinkets on a truly astounding and towering pine tree. James was in fact coming home next week on Wednesday the 18th. With the way the days played out this year, he actually ended up with a few extra days of hols, Euphemia was ecstatic to announce. She didn't mention anybody else joining him so Fae figured that if the other Marauders did appear, it would be in visits. She'd have time to adjust to just James first, which was a relief.
Fae loved hearing stories about James - but it was hard for her to combine the stories with the theoretical 14-year-old at Hogwarts and the man he would one day be. She stared hard at the photos hung up in the hallway. There were so many photos of him as a cute little toddler zooming around on a small broomstick, laughing carelessly from atop Fleamont's shoulders, hanging upside down from a tree and nearly falling out of it, looking quite unhappy in a button-up while sitting for a portrait with his parents. She could see the energy and life in him, and it was not just because the photos moved. As she shuffled slowly down the hall and James got older, his grin only got bigger, more carefree, and his eyes got sharper and livelier.
What was he like? In person? And then she snorted. Good fucking God, was he as clueless as Harry? She certainly hoped not. But she hoped he was kind like Harry. Or that Harry had gotten his kindness from James. Then she remembered how nasty James had supposedly been to Snape and she grimaced.
Her ears pricked up as she heard the faint sounds of footsteps down the hallway. The smell of maple, thyme, and cedar. "Something up?" Fleamont asked.
Fae chewed her lip and fought a childish blush. "Do you think he'll like me?"
The man chuckled and ruffled her hair. "What's not to like?"
Well. "You got me there," she said with a grin, suddenly feeling much better. He had a good point.
Still, James Potter consumed Fae's thoughts for the next few days leading up to his homecoming. She peered at the photos in the house, as if searching them for clues. She thumbed over the material of her favorite t-shirts, which once had been his and wondered which ones were his favorites. She wondered if he liked tea like his parents or if he could eat as many sweets as she and Euphemia could, or preferred spicy and salty foods like Fleamont. She already knew he liked to invent things and make things up, like Fleamont, but was it all practical jokes or other things?
On one particularly embarrassing occasion, she had peeked into his room. It was adjacent to her's and laid out the same way, but different in that posters covered nearly all the wall space and random knick knacks cluttered the dressers. Actually, it reminded her of Fleamont, all these random items sitting out, although without the ordered cases of course. She had a feeling that when he was home, the bed would never be made and there would be clothes all over his floor. Hearing Euphemia down the hall, Fae had squeaked and run from the door, mortified that she'd even done that and also a little regretful that she hadn't taken a closer look at the stuff on his desk or the contents of the posters - so they could have something to talk about.
She channeled the nervous energy into workouts and hoped it wouldn't skew her results for the month. It was two weeks to the full moon, after all. Fae wondered if she'd be at her weakest at this time, being right between two moons. That was barring the morning right after transformation, of course.
It seemed like a blink of an eye before it was the morning of the 18th and Fleamont was asking if she wanted to go along for the drive to pick James up from Kings Cross. Steadfast to her routine and feeling a little sick to her stomach with nerves, Fae declined, even though she absolutely loved going for rides in the Thunderbird.
Euphemia just laughed when Fae was completely restless all morning, in and out of the backyard and the living room, before eventually forcing herself to go on a run about 45 minutes after Fleamont had left. It was probably only like a 30 minute drive to London, right? Getting in and out of the station couldn't take too long.
Fae ran for an hour and seriously considered going for another hour and pretending that she'd lost track of time. She made her way back and paused at the edge of the woods, breath frozen. Then she pinched herself harshly. "Get a hold of yourself, you overdramatic badass. This is nothing." Launching herself across the yard and up the stairs of the back patio, she felt her body automatically relax and unwind as a warm burst washed over her when she stepped through the door.
"Perfect timing! Fae, come meet James," Euphemia called. Her voice was bursting with love and glee. Fleamont looked so happy. And James? He was right there, tucked under Fleamont's arm and looking rather startlingly similar to the tall, gangly inventor. He was already as tall as Fleamont's shoulder, and likely had at least a head on her, probably more although that wasn't hard to achieve. His skin was the same warm cocoa color, although free of wrinkles and blemishes, but not free of the occasional freckle or childhood scar. The hair was dark and wild, sticking up and out like male anime protagonists, which she supposed was appropriate. His eyes were framed by thick, black square glasses and shaped like Euphemia's, round and mischievous. He looked like the boy in the photos, but bigger. Older. He also looked nothing like the boy in the photos because where there should've been a bright grin, there was a firm line.
Fae decided to play it cool. "Hey," she said, stepping forward to shake his hand. Halfway through, he hadn't moved and she paused - then pulled her hand back to rub it with her other hand in her sleeves and blow on them to warm them up. When she tried again to shake his hand, he returned the gesture. He had a firm grip and she returned it with a small smile.
"Hey," he said back. And that was it.
Euphemia and Fleamont shared an obvious look of 'uh-oh' and Fae's smile grew bigger, if a little strained. "It's great to meet you. Euphemia and Fleamont have been so excited to have you home, they haven't stopped talking about you for days."
"Cool," he said. His eyes had narrowed as they looked over her, measuring her up. On instinct, Fae squared her shoulders, tipped her head up, and looked him over right back. He was tall, sure, but he looked and definitely acted like a 14-year-old. James was clearly upset about something and showing attitude. Unfortunately, it was probably her presence that was so upsetting.
"Well! James, why don't you go unpack. And Fae, go wash up, you look freezing darling and dinner will be ready soon," Euphemia chimed in, trying to keep the atmosphere cheerful. Fae shrugged, nodded at James, and bounded off, determined to keep her shoulders strong until she was behind a closed door. She deflated as she changed and took deep breaths. It was disappointing, but to be fair, he was an only child. Or, he had been. It was probably a territorial thing, not to mention, a hard adjustment to have a girl around the house. And honestly, she was feeling a bit territorial and weirded out by an extra presence in the house as well, although she attributed that to the werewolf thing. She'd give him time and watch and learn. It was as if she'd been issued a challenge - she was determined to win him over now.
Euphemia had gone to help James unpack and she heard muffled speaking through his door when she left her room. Fleamont was in the kitchen and Fae joined him, jiggling and humming to the Christmas music playing on the wireless.
"I'm sorry about that. James is usually so friendly," Fleamont said a few moments later.
"S'okay. He's probably not happy to be sharing you guys, is all. Parents as awesome as you guys, I understand," Fae answered with a cheeky smile as she tried to swipe a cranberry muffin.
"Sweet talker," Fleamont said with a laugh, allowing her one treat. "No, he's probably upset that his friends couldn't come with him this year."
"Oh?"
"His school friends, Peter, Sirius, and Remus, usually come stay with us during the holidays, or at least visit frequently. Sirius especially. However, with you here, Euphemia thought it might be overwhelming and she wanted James to have a chance to…...get to know you first," Fleamont said, voice quieting and clearly referencing her condition. He and Euphemia must not know about Remus, which wasn't surprising. Fae felt slightly guilty, but mostly she just felt relieved that they'd thought of her and wanted to make it easier for her.
"I see," Fae said. "Well, I appreciate it. Thank you."
"He'll warm up soon enough, I'm sure. He's a curious sort, never been very good at keeping his nose out of other peoples' business."
Curious, huh? She could work with that.
Dinner was horribly awkward, but Fae was prepared for it so it just made her laugh. Euphemia repeatedly grilled James over and over, asking about his grades, his friends, his teachers, quidditch, everything she could think of. James continued his quiet, reticent attitude and with every question Euphemia asked, his answers got shorter and sharper. When it looked like James might dramatically storm away, Fae cut in.
"You know, when I ran by Mrs. Delores' house yesterday, she had made some pretty big, new changes to her Christmas display."
There was a pause, and then a sharp, narrowing of eyes. "She did?" Euphemia said. "How big?"
"Oh, just a Christmas Tree made of dogwood, poinsettias, and those- uh- those yellow flowers? The ones with seven rounded petals?" Fae questioned impishly. She was pretty sure everybody at this table knew exactly which flowers she was talking about - even James would probably know them by sight at least.
"Aconite?"
"Yeah! That's the one! She dotted them like Christmas lights all around the tree with some snow drops, I think."
The temperature of the room dropped at least five degrees instantly. "That bitch."
James and Fleamont spit their drinks out in unison and Fae guffawed. Euphemia's garden war with Mrs. Delores was legendary and completely extra, but it made Fae laugh. And to be fair, making a tree, a rather large one, out of other flora was actually pretty impressive. She had almost got out her phone to snap a photo. She also felt like she should remind them that aconite wasn't bad for her. In fact, they should really think about stealing some for their potion stores. Euphemia would probably be all for it, if she thought about it. Gathering helpful materials for Fae's healing potions while also wrecking Mrs. Delores' Christmas display.
The small group cleaned up dinner and moved to the living room with the dessert trays and plenty of tea so they could continue catching up. Fae took charge of the conversation flow for the rest of the night. Throughout the evening she had Euphemia talking about the kids at nursery or Fleamont recounting his weekly wizards chess matches at the community center. Of course, Fae talked about herself too - mostly about her homeschooling because Euphemia was attempting to use the topic of magic as a bridge between the two teenagers. She'd ask Fae how practice with the Color-Changing Charm was going and then prod James to give Fae advice. He shrugged.
He did, however, perk up and glance at Fae whenever she talked about running or her visits to the cafe. It was uplifting that he seemed to be listening more intently when she talked about herself and an interaction she'd had as opposed to recounting a funny occurrence she'd witnessed. A few times, she even caught him glancing at her. And when she was talking about the practical joke she'd played on Lucrecia by subtly blocking all the sugar shakers, there had definitely been a small, reluctant smile on James' face.
She went to bed early, leaving them to talk amongst themselves and figuring James had witnessed enough for now. Thinking about James' behaviour that night, she felt triumphant and sure. Curious, Fleamont had said. James was curious about her. And maybe shy? She could absolutely work with that and use it to her advantage.
The plan was to play it friendly, aloof, and casual. She went for her morning run as always. When she came back, Fleamont and Euphemia were only just getting up, but James had been in the kitchen so she deviated a bit to go get a drink before changing. He was looking in the fridge for something to eat when swooped in under his arm, grabbed the open bottle of milk, and backed out swiftly. She took a few steps away from him, chugged the remainder of the milk right from the bottle, and then used Locomotor to set it in the sink followed by Aguamenti to soak it.
James watched her dubiously and then said, "Is that my shirt?"
She looked down at it and stretched the hem outwards to better display the graphic on the front - it was a grey shirt with a bright gold lion's head and maroon lettering spelling out 'Gryffin-Roar!' across the chest. Cheesy, but cute. Then she stretched the collar around to look pointedly at his name written on the tag. She let go and grinned.
"Yup," she said, swaggering easily out of the room.
Their second interaction of the day was during her homeschooling. Euphemia had started her on potions and it was going fairly well. Or so she always thought until there was a small explosion. James was first on the scene and she wiggled the blackened beaker at him with a sheepish grin.
"Sorry about that. Water Purifying Potion's giving me trouble, is all. Carry on," she said, turning back to her textbook and wondering where she went wrong. The faint scent of maple and bacon wandered closer and she hid a smile. From a foot or so away, he peered over her shoulder, and then walked away.
"You put in too much saline. Use less," he said.
"Thaaaanks," she sang.
The third interaction was at lunch. Euphemia was napping and Fleamont was wrapped up in a breakthrough, so it was a fend-for-yourself kind of afternoon. Fae had cheerfully plundered the fridge and retrieved a hearty slice of chocolate cake and the ingredients to make herself a dippy egg, ham, and cheese melted sandwich on sourdough. She had been sitting on the counter and getting ready to eat when she heard James behind her again.
"Is that cranberry jam?" he asked.
Fae dipped her sandwich in the jam, glanced over at him briefly with an 'mhm!', and then turned back to her meal to take a massive bite that sent egg yolk dripping onto her plate. Fuck, that was so good. After swallowing, she wiped her mouth, looked back at him, and asked, "Want some?"
"Oh um-"
Before he could finish his statement, Fae cut off a piece of her sandwich, dipped it in jam, set it on a napkin, and held it out for him. "Here, try it."
James looked at it, then tentatively took it and inspected it.
"It's not as crazy as Euphemia's weird mixed foods, I promise. Just try it," Fae commanded, rolling her eyes and then taking another large bite of her own sandwich. Seriously though, Euphemia mixed some weird foods like pizza and anchovies or bagels and hot sauce or, on one memorable occasion, chocolate syrup with fajita peppers. It made her shudder to think about it.
James followed her command and took a small bite. Chewed. Swallowed. Then took a bigger bite. "Hey, this is pretty good." He polished off his few bits quickly, looked at her, and then looked awkwardly around the kitchen.
It was the hardest thing she had ever had to do, but Fae cut off a small bit of her sandwich, wrapped it in a napkin, and then handed the plate with the bigger section to James. "You can have the rest then. I've got chocolate cake," she said. Then she took her cake and her small sliver of perfect sandwich and went back to her classroom. That boy better appreciate her efforts, goddamnit. It had her thinking though - the best way to man's heart was his stomach after all.
"Guess what I got?" Fae announced as she returned home from her daily library visit. James had been in the living room with their parents, sitting on the couch and watching tv when she entered with her backpack bulging and a box hanging by a secure string in her hands.
"Pastries?" Fleamont asked dryly.
"Pastries!" Fae said, setting the box down on the coffee table before Euphemia and James. She opened the lid and peered down at all the delicious goodness. There was a lot because Fae wasn't sure what James liked, but there had to be something in here that did the trick. Pointing to each confection, she named them off and subtly watched James' reaction. Toffee crunch cookies, tiramisu, strawberry shortcake, apple fritter, cinnamon sticky bun, caramel apple tart, blueberry muffin, orange cardamom eclair, pineapple coconut macarons, and treacle tart. The last one had been a bit of a joke for herself and a shot in the dark, but nope. James reached for that before she even named it off. Two bites had already gone when Euphemia tutted him.
"And what do we say?"
"Anks," James said, cheeks puffed out and mouth full. Euphemia huffed and delicately selected the macarons and the eclair with a 'thank you' of her own. Fae laughed, she just knew Euphemia would go for the most exotic flavors.
Fleamont swooped in, ruffling Fae's hair as always, and then grabbing one of the cookies. "That's real generous of you, Fae. You don't usually bring sweets home," he said, eyes twinkling. Thankfully, James didn't seem to notice as he reached for the strawberry cake.
"Lucrecia had a lot of leftovers today and gave the rest to me at a discount," Fae lied. Then she blushed, swept up the box, and left the room. "And the rest of these are mine."
"Is she really going to eat all of them?" Fae heard James ask quietly.
"Oh, without a doubt," Euphemia answered.
"She's not the salad-eating type of girl, if you haven't noticed. She could put your friend Peter to shame, that one," Fleamont added.
"A chip off the old block," Euphemia said proudly. Fae grinned and then enjoyed stuffing her face with sweets while she put her new collection of incident reports and books onto her designated werewolf shelf.
Dinner was once again rife with stunted conversation again, although James was a little chattier. He asked Fleamont about his latest inventions and well, when Fleamont got going, he got going. The real triumph of the day was in the living room after. Fae settled down in her spot on the couch and followed her usual routine of filling out her journals while Euphemia watched tv and Fleamont attempted the daily crossword. She hadn't even realized James had sat next to her until he asked, "What are you writing?"
Technically, she had been writing about her latest findings on Fenrir Greyback - and on Jillian Hamish, who was a werewolf that apparently also displayed a talent for night vision like Greyback. It was exciting. Still, Fae lied because she was pretty sure James wasn't quite ready to have a werewolf for an adopted sister when the adopted sister thing was still a bit of a jump. So she showed him her fitness charts - only bragging a little bit about her most recent mile time and her new personal record of pull-ups that she'd got that morning. Fae, embarrassingly, ended up rambling and going on and on about how she'd been steadily getting faster and how she never thought she'd be able to do pull-ups and now could do 8 in a row, and her biceps were stupidly sore to prove it. It was worth it though as James laughed lightly when she pushed up the sleeves of her sweater and flexed.
There were even more interactions the next day and with each one, Fae was more determined and delighted to see the cheerful and playful side of James come out. Everybody was there at breakfast the next morning and he grinned mischievously at her when she cast a sneaky Hardening Charm on Fleamont's toast, both of them laughing when he nearly chipped a tooth trying to take a bite. Euphemia, of course, laughed louder than the both of them combined.
During Euphemia's lecture on Sonorus and Quietus, Fae cast the former on the wireless and shamelessly belted out Drift Away by Dobie Gray while pulling Euphemia around to dance and sway around the room. James, who had been walking by, paused in the doorframe and smiled brightly. Fae spun out and then made a dramatic hand gesture at him as if to serenade the teen. James rubbed the back of his head, laughed sheepishly, and then continued down the hall.
When she finished an afternoon run and attempted a few pull ups with her backpack still on, she noticed James watching from one of the upstairs windows. He waved and then flexed one of his arms dramatically. Fae grinned up at him and struck a silly strongman pose.
At dinner, they had an actual conversation with each other. Well, with each other and Euphemia. Euphemia had been telling a story about when James had been younger and had insisted on putting the star on the top of the tree, but refused to wait for Fleamont to help him.
"We heard all these crashing noises and came back in to find him scaling the tree with ornaments shattered all over the floor!"
"Oh come on, I didn't break that many!" James protested.
Fae smirked at him toothly. "You didn't? Weakling! I would've broken at least seven. Tell me you smashed one of those creepy santa-face globes with the googly eyes." Because there were still two on the tree, looking quite aged, quite disturbing, suspiciously fragile, and quite possibly charmed back together.
"Oh no, I aimed specifically for that one, but dad pulled me off the tree before I could get the rest," James said proudly.
Fleamont nodded sagely. "Kicking and screaming. The whole tree almost went over."
"I was a very spirited kid."
Euphemia barked out a laugh. "Spirited, he says! You were the messiest, most chaotic child imaginable," she said, and then mock-whispered to Fae. "Couldn't take him out to eat or anything - his Christmas Fettucine would be all over his face, his shirt, and in his hair."
"Scooped it up with his hands, he did. Right in the middle of the restaurant," Fleamont said tiredly and fondly.
"Well how else do you eat Christmas Fettucine?" Fae asked sharply, and then looped a long strand of her pasta and red sauce over a finger, dangled it up high over her mouth, and slurped it obnoxiously down.
Fae had never felt more energized or excited to run in her life than when she saw James by the front door, waiting to go on her morning run with her.
"Think you can keep up?" she teased, although she sincerely hoped he could keep up because she felt like she could run a half marathon right now with how happy she was. Nobody had ever wanted to go running with her way back when.
James scoffed and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "You're talking to the best Chaser that Hogwarts has seen in years. Of course I can."
To his credit, he sort of could. He did well for the first mile or two, but when he started flagging, Fae sped up and disappeared into the woods. Between rough panting, he had called after her to wait up. She grinned wolfishly, quieting her steps to double back and hide behind a tree. When he came close, she shot a Colloshoo Curse at him, making his shoes suddenly stick to earth and sending him wheeling forward. She'd cushioned the ground with another charm for a semi-soft landing and then bellowed laughter from her spot behind the tree, pointing at him shamelessly.
Grinning, James unstuck himself and shot a Tickling Curse at her. Shrieking with mirth, Fae dodged and sprinted down the trail again. He sent a few more curses after her, but she dodged them all, except for the Cantis Singing Curse so she ended up nearly collapsing from laughing, running until her lungs burst, and singing out Deck The Halls. To her credit, she still beat him home.
James reappeared again later in the day after Euphemia had finished that day's lecture and headed off for an afternoon nap. Fae had been going through biweekly magic testing, floating a rubber duck through the hoops on the ceiling. He asked what she was doing and Fae answered him cheerfully, explaining her gauntlet of magical precision and skill. He looked at her with a mixed expression of 'you're crazy' and 'that's impressive'.
"Hey, what's up with all these tests anyways? All the running and the spells and stuff? Are you training for something?"
"So I can do this," Fae answered casually, flicking her wand and sending the rubber ducky flying at him, followed by a teddy bear, a decorative pillow, and a shower of flowers to finish it off. He laughed and ducked out of the way.
Appreciating his interest in her and his good nature, Fae let her smile soften and then answered him seriously. "I missed a lot of years. And time. I want to catch up now and see how far I can go. Kind of competitive like that, you know? Damn impatient too." It wasn't the full truth, but it wasn't untrue either. When she fixated on something, she just got like that.
James looked like he didn't quite know how to process that so she changed the subject. "What are classes like at Hogwarts?" Because she really was dying to know. Unlike the first night when Euphemia had asked, James was absolutely in a talking mood this time. And like his father, when James got going, he got going. Fae did her best to focus on the tests and finish them in a reasonable time, she really did, but how could she focus on producing orchids when James was animatedly telling her the story of the time he and Sirius had rigged the Slytherin showers to only produce extremely effective blue dye that appeared like water until it was too late. It took her a good two and a half hours to finish her tests and James talked the entire time. The entire time. That boy had a very impressive lung capacity.
Euphemia found them sitting cross legged on the floor in the middle of the makeshift classroom while James floated around the teddy bear and duckie to use in reenacting a recent quidditch match and apparent close call with a bludger. She watched them for a moment, smiling tenderly, before calling them for lunch where James and Fae got into a competition on who could eat the most mince pies. Fae won of course.
After lunch, James had been whisked away by Euphemia to go Christmas shopping. Fae would've loved to go and she nearly melted when James giddily asked if Fae could go too and immediately started rambling about all the things in Diagon Alley he could show her like the Shooting Star Broom at the Quidditch Shop or his favorite strawberry banana cheesecake ice-cream flavor at Fortescue's. Euphemia had shut him down with a sneaky smile and a wink, saying 'no can do, we've got some shopping to do for our girl so we can't very well take her with us'.
Instead of shopping, Fae went for her afternoon run down to the library and cafe. She merely swapped out books, got herself a coffee, and then enjoyed walking home for once. There was a week until the full moon and she wasn't restless or sore just yet, so she enjoyed the snow flurries and Christmas decorations and delicious mocha. She tried really hard not to think about where she had been exactly one year ago and how different it was.
At home, she settled into her favorite armchair in Fleamont's workshop and traded casual conversation with him while doing some light reading and writing. With James coming home and all that excitement, she'd gotten a little behind on planning for the moon. Of course, planning was derailed altogether when she heard the raucous sounds of James and Euphemia returning home not much later. James had bounded down the stairs with something to tell Fleamont, but had nearly tripped when he saw Fae down there. He must've assumed she was still gone for the afternoon as she normally was and she laughed at the flabbergasted look on his face and the way he shoved his hands behind his back while also trying to keep his balance.
"Fae!" he said. Then he sprinted back up the stairs and Fae and Fleamont shared an amused look. James' steps were loud above them and then he was back, making Fae very nervous as he skipped steps running down into the workshop.
"Look! We got tiramisu!" he announced cheerfully. And then, casual as anything, he shoved himself into the armchair with Fae. There were other seats, but no, only this one would do. His bony hips and elbows dug into her sides, but she beamed at him and received the tiramisu gleefully. Best brother ever.
When James Potter decides to become friends with you, he decides that knowing everything about each other within days of meeting is an essential. Of course, Fae didn't tell him everything. She couldn't tell anybody everything which was harder on her than she thought it would be. But she could tell James almost everything and let him interpret it as he wished.
"How old are you exactly?"
"We decided 14 as of the day they found me, but who knows? I could be 22."
"What's on your neck?"
"Scars from being attacked by a wild animal."
"Cool."
"Was your name always Fae?"
"Probably not, it's a pretty unique name."
"How did you get it?"
"Euphemia gave it to me. She said it was fitting because I appeared mysteriously from the woods and I'm tricksy," Fae answered proudly.
"Oh," he said. Then a moment later, "Are you a fae?"
She laughed delightedly. "No, I'm something much darker."
It was a good hour or so of James' questions and some close calls that had Fleamont glancing worriedly at them. Eventually, Fae got around to interrogating him back. James was also 14, but he was 8 months older than her, practically a year older. He was a very proud Gryffindor and a fourth year. His best friends that he'd mentioned before were Sirius, Remus, and Peter and they were the Marauders. He was a Chaser for the school team and had become Chaser in second year. His favorite classes were charms and care of magical creatures. He thought divination was easy, but a crock of shit. He could lick his elbows and wiggle his ears. Renaldo Giacometti was the best chaser of all time and the Italian Quidditch Team, The Venetian Valcores, would win the Quidditch World Cup this year without a doubt.
Eventually, James was called to help set the table. Fleamont and Fae followed at a more sedate pace. Apparently, James Potter had two settings - 'not happening' or 'happening instantaneously'.
Fleamont winked at her. "Told you he'd warm up to you."
"He's great. I'm really happy he likes me," Fae admitted.
"Like I said, what's not to like?"
"Well. You know. You think he'll take that well?" Fae asked, referencing her lycanthropy. In theory, she knew 100% that James would take it well on account of one of his best friends being a werewolf. Somehow, it was still slightly nerve wracking to know she had to come out and tell him.
"He will," Fleamont answered, not hesitating for even a moment.
The next day brought more stories and shenanigans.
"You've never flown on a broom before?!" James screeched.
Fae shrugged. She liked her feet on the ground, thank you very much. And being held off the ground by a long, thin piece of wood wedged into her snatch and ass didn't sound comfortable whatsoever.
"Well that just won't do," James declared.
With an hour or so of instruction from Euphemia and James, Fae managed to hover a little bit off the ground and liked it well enough. She refused to go higher though, even if sitting on the broom wasn't as uncomfortable as she thought it would be. James practically jumped out of his skin with joy as she flew a few laps around the yard on one of his old brooms. Then he offered to take over and show her what flying was really like. Euphemia looked mildly horrified at the idea, but Fae never backed down from a challenge so she let him get on the broom in front of her.
He shot into the sky, raced across the town, made crazy right angle turns, flipped them over a few times, did looped-de-loops. Fae hung on for dear life and buried her face into his shoulder. When they touched back down in the backyard, she punched him hard and yelled into his ear.
"What the hell did you do that for, you fucking wanker!"
He grinned at her shamelessly. Then she grinned back and latched back onto him. "Let's go again!" she demanded. It reminded her of a roller coaster, but much more dangerous and thrilling. If he flinched when she screamed extra loudly in his ear, that was his fault.
Christmas was a dream. James had gotten her a new pair of running shoes and a really fancy looking quill that would write whatever she spoke, because he hated writing lessons as much as she did. Euphemia had gotten her more clothes, winter dresses, a winter coat, and few sets of shockingly bright, neon leg warmers, workout tights, and unitards. And Fleamont, dear Fleamont, had designed for her a hefty, solid metal stopwatch that would allow her to time her runs without staying stuck on the same route. Fae blamed the proximity to the full moon on her lack of emotional control and the way she had cried on Christmas morning, so happy and so sad at the same time.
It was Boxing Day when Fae decided to tell James about her lycanthropy. She wondered how she could have ever been nervous to meet him or how she could've ever worried that he'd be anything but supportive and loving.
That, and it was getting hard to explain why Fae was increasingly getting faster, stronger, and more restless. It was so sweet that James always wanted to hang out with her, but her studies at the library had taken a hit for that and she couldn't do several loops of the 5K one right after the other if James went along.
"Ohhhh. So that's it then," was the first thing he'd said, looking skyward and recounting their time together so far, no doubt mining it for signs. Her new brother was clever. He'd known something was up for a while, what with the rigid and strict scheduling and testing. All the books he'd seen in her room. The energy, awareness, and strength she displayed so close to the moon.
"Does it bother you? That I'm a dangerous werewolf?"
"Of course not! And you're not dangerous!" he answered vehemently, enfolding her into a hug.
Fae shoved him away and punched him lightly in the stomach. "Excuse you, I am too dangerous!" she insisted.
James laughed and tugged on a lock of her hair. "Are not. You're so tiny," he said.
Fae tackled him to the ground, tussled for a bit, and then held him down with her superior strength, dripping saliva over his face and egging him on to call 'Uncle'. He conceded her point, rightfully so.
He didn't tell her about Remus, but she hadn't expected him to. That was Remus' secret to tell, not his and she was glad he respected that. However, Fae found herself telling James so much more than she'd told Fleamont or Euphemia, particularly about what she'd learned about Greyback and all the ideas she had to become unbelievably strong. He didn't question why she wanted to be strong or why she wanted control, he just understood and supported her.
Also, as payback for the broom thing, fun as it was, she took him to her favorite cafe and forced him into trying her favorite mocha latte as a toll for reading her notes on the other werewolves she'd discovered in Moody's reports who had abilities similar to Greyback. Of course, he ended up loving it. He immersed himself in the reports and her notes after, completely excited at the idea of Fae gaining effective night vision or an enhanced sense of smell. He was also very excited at the idea of her being able to hunt things. With her bare hands or what, she wasn't sure, but his enthusiasm was deeply appreciated.
Later at home, Euphemia looked at her almost wounded, seeing her only male child be converted from tea to coffee. Fae grinned impishly. Still, Euphemia and Fleamont looked resplendent and ecstatic that James officially knew and they were getting along like a house on fire.
James followed her on the day before the full moon for a single loop of her 5K, and then asked if he could look over her notes. Fae handed him the notebooks, there was more than one by now, on her werewolf research and findings. As nice as James' company was, without him she was able to do a nonstop 15K at full speed in peaceful, natural silence. It was wonderful, and she leapt happily, grinning at her new neon pink legwarmers.
On the day of the full moon, James barged into her room at 4:30 in the morning. He jumped on the bed, shouting, "Get up, get up, get up! I just had the most brilliant idea!" like the cheerful madman he was. Literally, he was more excited to wake her up at an ungodly hour on the day of the full moon than he was to wake everyone up on Christmas morning a few days before. Freaking weirdo. Fae had nearly scratched him in her panic and then shot one of her finest Bat Bogey hexes at him. He got her out of bed anyways and then took possession of her stopwatch before sending her through a myriad of drills that he apparently used for quidditch, although these were blessedly without the broom. Fae was one part annoyed that her routine was being interrupted and one part curious about what he had planned.
He drilled her for hours, through mile after mile, jumping rope, push ups, pull ups, sit ups, lunges, and what had to be millions of shuttle runs. He demanded them in no particular order, shouting at her to do as many as she could before sending her off to the next exercise in a never ending drag. Fae went through it all, at first proving that she could do it, then waiting for him to get to the point. Around lunch, she finally snapped at him and threatened to use the Anteoculatia hex on him, give him antlers, and hunt him down. James grinned brightly at her.
"Sure, okay, but do you still feel restless?"
Fae froze at that. Her body was sore as hell, but it wasn't thrumming and shaking and trying to escape her skin like normal full moon days. She looked down at herself curiously.
"I figured it out! You said you tried meditating and it failed miserably and made you even more injured than before right?" James asked excitedly.
"Thanks for summing that up."
"Well you aren't the meditative sort! You're active and can't stand being still."
"And you don't know when to shut the fuck up. Thank you captain obvious," Fae answered absentmindedly, still in awe. She was sore, but she actually felt good. It was a soreness, but accompanied by the strength and residual energy that came from doing something unbelievable and rewarding and satisfying. From pushing herself to her limits, but not overstepping them.
"Look, just hear me out okay? There's runner's high and all those articles about how marathon runners and stuff kind of reach a meditative state. So what if meditating for you is exercise? And if you can burn yourself out completely during the day physically, then your mind will relax enough to tap into the werewolf conscious at night?"
"I'm listening."
Fae broke all her records that day of the full moon, with James eagerly cheering her on and dutifully recording each sore and each score. Her average mile time dropped 20 seconds and she managed nearly eight miles consecutively before her time went back up to her usual average. The fact that it went back up to her usual average at all was stunning. She did ten sets of ten reps of pull ups until her arms were shaking. James held her shoes down while she went through hundreds of sit-ups. Back when Fae had been obese and losing weight and training a 5K time, she had been amazed when she could shave a few seconds off every week. She'd thought herself a badass when she reached her weight goal in seven months like she planned and when she was able to squat her own body weight. This was so much like that, but amplified to an unimaginable level. It was an addicting feeling, discovering you were capable of so much more than you thought you were. She'd tasted it plenty before, but never so much in one day.
When it came time to go to the attic, Fae was only capable of a tired smile for her parents, Moody, and an increasingly jumpy James. It was weird, someone else pacing other than her right before the full moon. Fae just felt secure in her bones for once. She shut the door and the urge to pace was still there, but it was so quiet and her body was so exhausted, so she sat on the floor and stretched. Even though she wasn't meditating, the fixation on the pain came back and she was scared. But her mind was peaceful, unable to really think of or focus on anything other than how good her bed would feel in the morning. The change came gradually, but she was too tired to scream. Instead, she just panted deeply through it and reached in all directions, body breaking, reforming, and growing.
She woke up on the floor in a shit ton of pain like always, but with considerably less blood. The windows weren't splintered like safety glass. The ceiling of the attic was unscathed this time. She was actually able to move a bit and really only felt major stinging from three areas, one on her hip, on above her left knee, and one on her right bicep. The soreness was much more prevalent, and completely unreal. With a whimper, she stretched out her body and then sighed when her back twisted and popped. How incredible, she mused. She fell asleep.
When Fae woke up again, James was sitting in a chair beside her bed, staring into his hands and looking far too pensive for her liking. He looked really tired too, big black smudges beneath his eyes. The usual shine in his dark eyes was gone and it made her frown. She made an obnoxious popping noise to get his attention.
He startled and then looked at her intently. "Are you okay?"
Fae wiggled a bit. The soreness was still there and so were the bandaged injuries, but it was a solid 6 on a scale of 1 to 10. "For the most part. I'm much better than I have been previous mornings," she answered.
"This is better?" James asked, face devastated and voice cracking. Fae's heart absolutely melted. With a groan, she scooched away from him and then peeled back the covers. She patted the spot beside her and James crawled in.
They laid on their sides watching each other. She smiled comfortingly at him, too tired for her usual broad, toothy grin even though she was truly thrilled and truly happy. "Jay, your idea worked. I'm sore as hell, sure, but I didn't completely destroy the attic or give myself enough new scars to belong in a circus. What's with the long face?"
"I don't like seeing you like this," he whispered.
She wanted to say that she didn't like feeling like this or looking like this, but to tell the truth, she kind of did. Maybe not the pain, but it was good to feel weak and doted on every once in a while, no matter how much she preferred being strong. "Tell me more about your friends and Hogwarts?" she asked.
James nodded and started talking. Usually when he told stories, he used his hands and anything he could get his hands on. He didn't bother watching the volume of his voice. But this morning, he kept his voice low, calm, and steady. He stayed still on the bed for the most part, only gesturing with his hands here and there when he turned on his back and drew pictures on the ceiling. Fae dozed in and out, doing her best to keep listening. Euphemia found them like that much later and reluctantly interrupted them to offer lunch.
Fae got up and took her usual bath, cataloging her new injuries while James and Euphemia made lunch. As per usual, they relocated to the living room with trays of food, every blanket in the house, and movies on tv. It was nice, being able to skip the whole feeling-sorry-for-herself bit. This time, she just felt loved and secure. The day passed, sometimes in silence as they watched the movie, but mostly with James telling her about Hogwarts. She was sincerely amazed he never ran out of things to talk about.
Around dinner, Fae woke up and realized she had dozed off again. There was yelling from the kitchen and it was strange to realize it was James and Euphemia. She was far too tired to go see what it was about though, so instead she just snuggled deeper into the couch and attempted to find a hole in her blanket nest so she could reach out for a banana muffin. The muffin floated into her mouth and she took a large bite as James returned to the room.
"What was that about?" she asked
"Nothing," he said.
In the hazy days between Christmas and the full moon and New Years, she was kept busy by James' enthusiasm to know everything about her lycanthropy and his ideas about what she could do for the next month. It should've been strange, how easy it was, but instead it was just mostly wonderful, having someone to talk to so candidly about it. To have his imagination and ideas, wild as they were.
Already, they had pages and pages of plans and ideas for the next full moon and James made her promise to write to him every day with progress, especially during the week of the moon. Fae agreed, mind racing with the potential of achieving awareness during transformation with the help of physical exertion - not to mention her obvious increases in strength, speed, agility, and so on. She thought about looking into wolf-specific behaviour as well and seeing if that would do anything. Stuff like eating more red meat. Or howling at the moon, James had teasingly suggested. Fae howled right into his big ear.
It wasn't all smooth sailing, however. James was fairly athletically inclined and thus post-moon, he kept up with Fae pretty well. He also never shut up. It was endearing at first, and now at 6 in the morning during her usually peaceful run, after nearly two weeks of it, it was starting to get on her nerves. Normally, she'd just run faster to escape him or get him breathing too hard to speak, but post-moon, she was too tired and sore to escape. And she was a little tetchy that her physical capabilities dropped so much again. Not as much of a drop as the last full moon, but it still bothered her.
Fae was a little short with him that morning, but then felt bad. She took deep, steady breaths of icy air, calmed herself down, and reminded herself that she was very lucky to have a brother like James. To have a family at all. James was clingy and never shut up, sure, but he was loyal and fun. He brought life to everything he did and always brightened up her day. James kept right on rambling and she considered how much he actually reminded her of her two best friends. James was self-assured and confident and always ready for some fun, a lot like one of her best friends. And like the other, he was tenacious and talkative, but understanding and steadfast in the face of whatever attitude she had.
Suddenly, Fae froze, heart stopping and legs stopping mid-stride right with her. What were their names? Her best friends. The cool, beautiful girl who was charismatic and exciting? The one she'd known since she was born? And the other girl, her roommate through college and close friend for years beyond who shared so much mutual love and support? Why couldn't Fae remember their names?
"Fae? What's wrong?"
Fae was forgetting. Her memories were fading. In a wild panic, Fae burst through the forest, uncaring of James left behind and wondering what the hell just happened. Fae ran, and ran, and ran as if her life depended on it. What else had she already forgotten? Why was she forgetting? Her memory had never been the best and she had been so busy here, but how could she ever forget the names of two people so important to her? She ran until their names came back to her. Milly and Cara. Milly and Cara. Milly Cushing and Cara Stangle. Milly Cushing and Cara Stangle. Milly was tall and had dirty blonde hair and green-blue-grey eyes. She was skinny and covered in freckles. She was sassy. Cara was sweet, mid-length blonde hair, big black glasses, blues, big teeth. Cara was a painter. Milly could sell anything. Fae burst into the cafe in a panic, face wet with sweat, or tears.
"Fae?! What's wrong?" Lucrecia asked.
"I need pen and paper, right now! Please, I need to write this down. I can't forget again. I can't, I can't, I can't," Fae babbled. Lucrecia shushed her and led her into the backroom where Fae collapsed against a wall, pressed her heaving face into her shaking hands and collapsed to the ground. Lucrecia was there with an order note pad, a pen, a slice of tiramisu, and a cup of coffee.
"Here, write it down," she ordered. "I'll be just up front if you need anything else." And then she left. Fae wrote everything down frantically. When she ran out of things to write, she dropped the pen because her hand was cramping. She drank the coffee and ate the tiramisu, and then sighed deeply. Oh good lord, what had she done? No sooner than she thought of it, James burst into the back room. He caught sight of her and deflated, breathing a huge sigh of relief.
He looked like he wanted to ask a million questions, but didn't know where to start. Fae had no clue either. "Was it something I did?" James eventually asked weakly.
"No, of course not!" Fae said, jumping up and wrapping her arms securely around him in a tight hug. "You didn't do anything wrong Jay, I'm so sorry I ran off like that. I just.. I had a bad moment.," she said, then swallowed. "I'm not completely well James, even if I act like I am. I'm sorry you had to see that," she said, voice shaking. She was a prideful girl, and it was never easy to admit faults like that, but it was true. She prided herself on compartmentalizing, until it came back and bit her in the ass like this because it wasn't really compartmentalizing, it was avoiding her problems.
They sat on the floor in the backroom of Lucrecia's Cafe for a few hours, eating pastries while Fae told him everything about her best friends instead of the other way around for once.
"Is there nothing we can do? You really can't see them again?"
"I really don't think so."
James forgave her for running off and apologized for her loss. She said she was sorry too. James gave her a piggyback ride home while Fae thought of all the people in her old life and did her best not to forget, telling James random, safe facts whenever they popped in her head.
On the day before James went back, Euphemia had forced the family into nice clothes and then took them to get a professional family portrait. The clothes were awkward and uptight. James made his discomfort very obvious the entire way there and through the sitting. On the other hand, Fea just kind of drifted through the whole thing and when it was done and they got to see a small collection of the photos, she almost cried again. Her old family never took photos together, far too conscious of their weight. In this photo, she looked like she belonged. It had only been three months.
Her favorite of the photos was her and James shooting obnoxious finger guns and silly faces at each other, Euphemia looking red in the face and telling them to settle down, and Fleamont looking skyward, pinching the bridge of his nose, but smiling that fond smile of his.
Maybe noticing her lack of energy or being sensitive to the events of two days before, James stuck very close to her side that day. After the family photo, they made a wreck of his room, messing around with the Locomotor and Packing charms. Eventually, Euphemia had come in and started packing James up herself, only for James and Fae to tag team her and sneak things back out of the suitcase. Some Levicorpus Hexes had them hanging by the ankles, giggling madly, and then trying to throw everything possible in the room into the suitcase to impede her efforts. That night, James and Fae had one more sleepover on the enlarged couch in the living room.
At Kings Cross the next morning, Fae was proud to say that she did a much better job at not crying than James did. "It'll be Easter Hols before you know it," Fae said, resolutely hardening her voice and trying not to laugh and sniffle when James nodded wildly and wiped at his eyes, looking steadfastly at the ground between them.
Fae took advantage of her much shorter height and peeked up closely at his face with a sly smirk. Then she poked him in the cheek that he was clearly biting to keep from full-on crying. "Oh come on now, what's all this? You're supposed to be the older sibling, aren't you? The tough, strong older brother?" she teased.
"No one is tougher than you, Fae."
Oh that did it. Uncontrollable tears sprung up and Fae laughed. "Well, you're not wrong." Then she launched herself at him in such a tight hug that she literally felt his bones pop. He hugged back just as fiercely. Well, he tried, but he didn't have her werewolf strength. Although, nothing in the world really made her feel so strong as his belief in her.
"I'll see you soon," she promised.
James nodded, let go, and turned away abruptly. He strode off to the stairs stiffly and purposefully. "See you soon. And don't forget to write!" he called.
"Wouldn't dream of it," she answered. Fleamont's warm hand found her shoulder and squeezed while Euphemia wrapped an arm around her shoulder and laid her head across Fae's hair. As Fae watched James go, her face became very still and determined, a taste of steel and fire in her smile. Up until now, she had just been getting by and trying to make sense of her new life. She hadn't decided whether or not she was going to have anything to do with the war. Up until now. Her brother disappeared onto the train to Hogwarts and Fae decided she was going to throw herself headlong into her training as a witch and as a werewolf. She was going to become strong, she was going to war, and she was going to keep her precious, darling, dumbass brother safe, alive, and happy.
James was so focused on taking deep breaths and pulling himself together that he didn't notice Sirius plop down next to him until he spoke right into James' ear. "So, how did it go? Was she absolutely horrid?"
"No, no! Not at all! She was awesome!" James said.
"Awesome. Really? You were so up in arms about it before you went home for hols. What happened?" Remus asked, taking his own seat beside Peter, who had quietly appeared across from him at some point.
James shook his head wildly and went off on a rant about Fae's hilarious sense of humor and her sass and how often she cursed when Euphemia wasn't around and how fast she was learning magic and how fast she was in general, not to mention strong. It was only when the treat trolley came by and interrupted them that the train had long since started moving and his three best mates were looking at him completely astonished.
"Anything from the trolley, dears?"
"Oh um. Chocolate? And coffee if you have any?"
Sirius' jaw completely dropped at that point and the trolley lady left with a promise to return with a cup for him from the teachers' carriage.
"What happened to you, mate?"
"Yeah, did she cast a spell on you or something?"
James rolled his eyes and laughed. "No, nothing like that. She's still learning, remember? Probably only the level of a second year, although she's wicked with the Locomotor charm," he said. Then smiled. "No, you'd understand if you met Fae."
James already missed her, but he had to pull himself together. He had a mission. The trolley lady returned with his coffee and he took a sip. Remus made an offended and loud noise of disgust. Looking up at the light-brown haired boy with far more scars than his sister, James appraised him with steel and fire in his grin. His mum thought Fae couldn't join him at Hogwarts because she was a werewolf. She just didn't know any better, James figured. Fae looked so happy whenever he talked about Hogwarts, and wistful too. She was outgoing and active and headstrong - she'd be stifled stuck in their small town. No, James looked at Remus and began forming his game plan. He'd get Fae to Hogwarts with him by next year, for sure.
"If I met her, hmm? Well maybe I ought to. She certainly sounds like something else. That girl standing with your parents right? She was awfully cute," Sirius said thoughtfully, and James hoped for his sake, jokingly.
Nonetheless, James glared sharply at the flirtiest of his friends. "Don't even think about it," he growled.