Day One

Prompt: Childhood

When Bored

James Potter is bored.

Stuff-your-elbow-into-your-gob-and-lick-it-to-within-an-inch-of-its-life-bored.

And let me tell you, that is no mean joke.

It's just that, he fumes silently, why won't anybody play with him?

All James wants is his mummy to pick him up and zoom him around, accompanying his favourite game with those funny whooshing sounds she makes.

James really likes whooshing.

Hmm.

Should he perhaps try those noises he usually makes when he gets the growlies in his tummy?

No, he decides. Last time he did that, she had just given him a Look and popped a bottle of that white, icky gunk into his mouth. Eurgh.

James really hates white, icky gunk.

Bear that in mind.

Clutching a tuft of jet-black hair in his chubby little fist (he has found he quite likes it there), James thinks.

What if he makes a stinky?

Ah, that always seems to catch her instant attention. Also, it's fun, James remembers with a gurgle.

And so, he tries. And tries. And tries.

Fists clenched into tiny balls of pure grit, dark little brow furrowed in determination, he pushes. And pushes. And pushes.

Alas, to no avail.

No matter how much he pours the whole of his ten month-old soul into it, the stinky just. Won't. Come.

Tested to the very limits of his tolerance now, James is mad.

Honestly, mummy, is it so hard to look up and notice the misery of your only child, James thinks.

Very well. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

And so, James takes a deep breath, rounds his mouth into a wide 'O' and prepares to wail his little lungs out.

And right about then, to his utter and delightful surprise, his tall, stately mummy swivels around from the kitchen table, and gently floats through the air towards him, landing with a musical flump right in front of his high chair.

Beaming dazzlingly, James looks up at his darling mummy with that brilliantly deceptive innocent look, practised and perfected by babies everywhere.

You can imagine the look on her face then.

And that is explicitly why James Potter performs his very first bit of real magic, aged precisely ten months, five days, seven hours and seventeen minutes.

Because he was bored.

Really, who can blame him?

A/N: Haha, so that was baby James and his mental ramblings. Review if you wish you could fly your mum anywhere you wanted to! x)

~Z