Chapter Two: On Flying, More Parents, and…Some More James
FIVE THINGS I AM DOING TO WHILE AWAY THE TIME TILL JAMES IS HERE TO GET ME THAT I PROBABLY SHOULDN'T BE DOING BECAUSE I MOST DEFINITELY WILL REGRET THEM LATER, POSSIBLY IN THE FORM OF THROWING UP BECAUSE THEY ALL INCLUDE EATING, SOMETHING I DO NOT NORMALLY DO A LOT OF. EXCEPT WHEN I AM AT HOGWARTS OF COURSE:
Now that I think about it, that's not a good title.
FIVE THINGS I AM EATING TO FILL THE EMPTY VOID THAT IS NOT SEEING MY BEST FRIEND TILL TONIGHT THAT I PROBABLY SHOULDN'T BE CONSUMING BECAUSE I MOST DEFINITELY WILL THROW UP LATER, NOT BEING USED TO THIS SORT OF ABUNDANCE OF FOOD IN MY VICINITY EXCEPT WHILE I AM AT HOGWARTS OF COURSE:
The largest bag of chips I could find at the grocery store. It contains baked potatoes, tomatoes, salsa, cheese, and tofurkey, whatever the heck that is. It tastes terrible. But it's loaded with calories. Yum.
A family pack of Skittles. Enough said.
All of the orange candy that I bought for James. Merlin, he's going to me so mad at me…
Cheesecake. (See 2.)
My nails.
This isn't a good combination at all.
It doesn't matter though, because tonight I will be at James's, where Ginny will flood my plates with more food that I can possibly eat and Harry will shower me with the kind of affection he always wished he could on his own daughter. Which he cannot, because Lily Potter has turned out to be a nutcase. All she cares about is boys. You didn't hear this from me (James, if for some extremely random reason you suddenly decide you want to die and start reading this, now would be a great time to STOP! No? Okay, fine. Don't say I didn't warn you), but she attempted to…ahem…earn the attention of a certain Metamorphmagus godson who happens to be engaged to a certain blond cousin of hers who wouldn't hesitate to rip Lily's carrot-topped head off (Yes, I said carrot-topped. Apparently Lily Evans' hair decides to display itself on boys only. Poor Lily Potter got the Weasley orangeness).
Anyway. Lily isn't important at all. And I don't know why I started talking to my best friend in my journal. In my UNICORN journal.
That's right, I'm still not cool with the whole UNICORN thing. My mother doesn't understand why I am so vehemently opposed to owning a journal adorned by a UNICORN. She floated into my room earlier and saw me drawing plaid patterns on the UNICORN's body and got all in a little hippie huff.
"Why, Lemon, must you be so uptightttttttttttttttttttttt?" she trilled. No seriously, the woman TRILLED. She also spun in a little circle, her flowery skirt spreading around her. Her beads were clanking against her chest. She was a daze of pinks and greens, with the flowers in her hair and around her ankles, and her bright red hair (that looks remarkably like Lily's now I think about it. SHUDDER) cascading down her back in wild little curls.
My mother is really pretty when she doesn't purposely turn herself into a sensory overload.
Anyway, so after spinning around for about half my life, she got dizzy and flopped herself down on my bed.
"Tell me Lemonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!" she trilled again.
I rolled my eyes. "Mother, seriously, stop trilling at me. I can hear you just fine when you say things NORMALLY. You know? Without adding a gazillion syllables to the end of every statement?"
"So uptighttttttt!" my mother shook her head, but she toned down on the addition of syllables. I could tell because her voice, for once, didn't make me want to pick up a dead possum and beat myself around the head with it when I heard her voice. "It's only a UNICORN!"
"Exactly, mother. A UNICORN. For your definitely not a ball-of-sunshine daughter."
"But honeyyyyyyyyyy!" she trilled (sweet Circe, why do you hate me so?), "you ARE my little ball of sunshine! My rainbow! My…peace sign!"
That was when I uncovered my enormous collection of unhealthy food and began chowing down on my nails.
If James is any later, he will find not his best friend, but the bloated carcass of a strange-looking creature with a plaid-patterned UNICORN clutched to its chest, lying on the floor surrounded by empty wrappers of his favorite candy and flower petals.
I need James to pick me up right now.
James, oh James! Where art thou, my noble savior?
Bloody hell, first he runs of the America for three-fourths of the summer while I languish in self-pity stuck in this hippie town, and now he's taking his own sweet time coming to get me? Has he found a new best friend or what?
I swear if he replaces me with Freddie, I might actually choke on my own saliva and die.
What am I thinking? Freddie has a stomach of a pregnant woman at seven in the morning. He would never be able to tolerate James's grossness. Sometimes I suspect that's the reason James and I became friends in the first place.
Huh, interesting.
"Snickets?"
"Nargufffhufghsh!" I slapped the poking hand away. Who dare interrupt my sleep?
"Nice to see you too, love."
"Wharaaaagh," I mumbled, getting really annoyed now. Didn't they know I was going to set my magical plaid patterned UNICORN on them for waking me up?
"SNICKETS! OI!"
"WHATTTTTTTTTT?" I jumped up in bed, alarmed at the urgency in the annoying voice. My eyes were still adjusting to being open and everything was blurred. Someone was standing in front of me, his face hovering above mine, hazel eyes filled with amusement at my disoriented state.
James.
James Potter.
"OHMGOD JAMESFREAKIN'POTTERWHERETHEHELLHAVEYOUBEEN?" I screamed louder than I had ever screamed before and launched myself onto him. I heard him chuckle and then splutter.
"Merlin, Snickets," he muttered, sounding completely disgusted. "Your hair is IN my MOUTH."
"I don't care!" I laughed, hugging him tighter. "I'm so glad you're here, James, I was spazzing because my mother gave me a UNICORN journal, and I ate at least twelve thousand calories in my own nails and this really terrible bag of chips and I don't really know why I ate it because it really was the worst stuff ever and then I ate your orange candy and then my mother called me uptight and I was like, whatever, but James, I really AM uptight aren't I? Why are you even friends with me? Is it because I can tolerate your grossness? And Freddie can't? Because that's not really a good reason you know - hmphhhh!"
James had slapped his palm again my mouth so I couldn't talk anymore. He does that a lot.
I don't like it, but he still does it anyway.
"Snickets," he looked at me, his face incredulous. "How long have I been gone? Merlin."
I suddenly remembered that I was a little mad at him for abandoning me all summer for a trip he didn't deserve because, uh, I'm pretty convinced I was the one who made him put away his broomstick and go write his OWL papers. So I gave him an annoyed shove (a little one, in case he got mad at me and left me to rot here with my mother's flowery skirts) and sat back down on my bed.
"Uh, you, mister, have been gone long enough!" I glared at him, crossing my arms and legs together and pursing my lips. "I hope you had a whole bunch of UNDESERVED FUN in America."
"I did," James grinned, leaning against my closet. His eyes went misty and he got a goofy smile on his face. "The girls were awesome."
I threw a fistful of food at him. Some of it landed in his hair. Oops. Teehee.
He stared at me and then laughed. Damn. I thought the hair would work for sure! I tightened my crossed appendages and scowled at him.
James sighed and sat down next to me. "Hey," he murmured, poking my shoulder gently, "I missed you, you know." When I didn't reply, he put and arm around my shoulder and pulled me in till my head was against his chest. "You don't believe me? I MISSED YOU. I MISSED YOU! I MISSED YOU!"
I couldn't help it. I started laughing into his shirt, and realized that I had been crying without even knowing that I was. I tried to quickly wipe away the tears, but I guess his shirt getting wetter might have made him notice just a tad. He tightened his arms around me. "Sorry I ditched you. You have no idea how awful it was there without you. I thought I might become like…a good person."
"Jeez, thanks," I giggled, suddenly happy again. I swear I am bipolar. I moved away from him to fix my emotional wreckage of a face. "I want to hear all about it. But first," I sighed, "I just want to get out of here."
James got off the bed and pulled me up. "Anything you want, love…except you ate all my orange candy."
Once James got over my total carnage of his bloody precious orange candy - "ONE THING I ASKED YOU TO HAVE FOR ME SNICKETS! THE ONE AND ONLY THING!" – we finally got on his broom.
His NEW broom I might add. That's right. Another you-took-your-OWLs present.
Anyway, James charmed my things back to his house so we could fly unencumbered. This part I was extremely excited for. I don't fly a whole lot. Whenever I do, it's with James, so this annual flight from my place to his is always a highlight of the year.
"Ready?" James grinned, as I settled myself on the broom in front of him.
"Heck, yes." I couldn't help feeling a surge of adrenaline pumping through my veins as he put one arm around my waist and the other on the broom in front of us before kicking the ground expertly with a foot. We slowly ascended the skies and I felt a familiar plunging feeling in my stomach. You know, the kind that you get when the elevator suddenly starts moving, and inertia is still acting on you?
No?
Wait, you don't know what elevators are?
Huh. Well then never mind.
Anyway, I screamed a teensy bit when we began to go faster and James started laughing at me. Not in a mean way. He knows how much flying scares and fascinates me simultaneously.
The wind hit my face hard and my hair flew back into James's face. "SNICKETS!" I heard him splutter and giggled. "DO YOU WANT TO FALL FROM THE SKY?"
"No," I mumbled, tightening my grip on his arm and sweeping my hair into a bundle at my neck with my free hand.
"Thank Merlin," James sighed. "Tell me, is there a reason why your hair is ALWAYS in my face?"
"'Cause you love it, that's why."
"I love you."
"That too."
After an hour of flying and arguing over whether James was more Chandler or Joey (I said he was Joey because of his behavior with people of the opposite gender, and his overly enthusiastic affinity for food. James disagreed. He said he was Chandler because he was FUNNY. Oh by the way, James watches F.R.I.E.N.D.S. I got him into it a couple years ago and he's been hooked ever since. He made his parents BUY him a Muggle television set so we didn't have to bring mine over every summer) we finally landed in James's backyard.
"If you're going to make me Joey, I'll make you Monica," James threatened me as we floated lightly over the grass toward the broomstick shed.
I giggled. "I LIKE Monica remember?"
"Damn. That's right."
We laughed as we finally came to a stop. James jumped off the broom and helped me get down from it. I stood there quietly, looking around at the backyard I landed in every summer. It never changed, never disappeared. That's what I loved about being here with James and his family. They were the constant part of my life. Sure, they enjoyed disappearing beneath their Invisibility Cloak, but they always came back.
I was smiling about this cheering thought when James got done with stowing his things away. "Ready to meet the Potters again?" he smiled, grabbing my hand as we began walking toward the house.
I laughed and linked arms with him. "Always ready."
FIVE THINGS I LOVE ABOUT THE POTTERS (OH LOOKIE! A SIMPLE TITLE!):
Ginny's cooking. She inherited Molly Weasley (the first)'s cooking skills that woman did.
When Harry ruffles my hair and calls me "honey." My father never does that.
Strange as this may sound, Albus Potter. He's like the brother I never had. Only better, because I don't have to deal with him when I don't want to.
Watching the Potters play Quidditch, and flying with James afterward.
Rooming with James.
Yes, I know what you're thinking. Rooming with James? A boy? Blasphemy! Abstinence!
Get off your high horse. I get James's bed, and he sleeps on the floor. And Harry and Ginny don't care. They're the coolest parents ever, except when it comes to breaking rules. Since James and I don't break any rules while I'm here (we just plan for the rules we WILL break once we're AT Hogwarts), my stay here usually goes by without any hitches.
"Lemon, honey!" Ginny smiled as I walked in with James. She was sitting at the kitchen table, writing letters it looked like.
"Morning, Mrs. Potter," I grinned, walking up to her and giving her a hug. I don't call her and Harry by their names to their faces. That's just how James makes me refer to them. I wasn't comfortable with it, but it kind of stuck. Somehow, I don't think Harry and Ginny would care if I called them by their names. James is a different story. They'd rip his head off for being "disrespectful." Harry would probably throw in something about "saving the wizarding world from the sadistic hands of Voldemort" as some sort of lesson as to addressing your parents using the respectful and appropriate terms. That man has got a superhero complex if I've ever seen one.
Ginny returned my embrace and pushed me away so she could get a good look at me. "You haven't been eating have you?" she chided, clicking her tongue as if chastising me for starving myself.
"You know that isn't my fault," I drily remarked, "mother and father went shopping for groceries last week and bought me a UNICORN journal. And they claimed they lost the list I made them. And that corn husks were a completely normal item to place on the table for breakfast, lunch and dinner."
Ginny shook head. "Now you're here. I'm going to fatten you up. Also, what's this about a unicorn journal?"
"You have to say it louder. Like UNICORN. Or it doesn't sound as blasphemous as it is."
James snorted as he jumped onto the couch and nestled himself in between the cushions. "Stop obsessing over the damn unicorn."
"JAMES!"
"It's UNICORN!"
"What have I said about cursing?"
"Do it?"
"JAMES, it's UNICORN!"
"I heard you, you freak."
"DON'T USE WORDS LIKE THAT IN THIS HOUSE!"
"MUM, WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM?"
"JAMES SIRIUS POTTER!"
"THAT'S A STUPID MIDDLE NAME! DO I LOOK SERIOUS TO YOU?"
"I wish people would remember that it's UNICORN."
"MERLIN LEMON! STOP WITH THE UNICORN!"
No, seriously, I like being at the Potters'. Trust me on it.
"And we need to talk about how you're repaying me for all the candy you demolished."
Damn.