Remember This Song, Part I
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
James rolled his eyes up, trying to survey his mother's failed attempts at flattening his thick fringe. "Ouch!" he cried as she tapped him sharply on his head with the end of her wand. "That's not going to work either!"
Ginny sighed in frustration and let her wand drop. She used to be good at hair charms but she had been out of practice for years. It was enough work trying to get the children to eat their cabbage to bother with something like their hair. Obviously it didn't matter anyway – not even the strongest charms seemed to make a difference. She pulled her own hair back and twisted it in her hands absentmindedly. James eyed her warily before leaning down and handing her the wand she dropped. She was always twisting her hair into a messy bun and keeping it up by sticking her wand through it. "Sorry, Jamie," she said, taking the wand from him.
"Don't call me Jamie. I'm an adult now," he said frowning at her.
"Oh? Is that so? You're twelve, you know," she replied teasingly.
"I'm nearly thirteen!" he argued. He licked the palm of his hand and brought it up to his head. With broad strokes, he applied it to his wayward hair. It wasn't the effect that Ginny was hoping to achieve with her bungled charms but at least, it was no longer sticking straight up.
"I guess that will have to do," Ginny muttered. She reached out to straighten her eldest son's collar.
"I don't even know what the big deal is. It's just the Malfoys. They're not even staying – they're just dropping their git of a son – ow!" James backed away from his mother. "That's abuse!"
"Oh, I barely tapped you," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "And don't say that – you know Albus doesn't have very many friends."
"Why would he? He's a Slytherin," James replied, spitting out the last word like it was a curse in his mouth. She remembered her husband doing the same thing when he was about their son's age. Ginny rubbed a weary hand over her face. Some things never changed.
Suddenly, Albus's small but rapid steps were rushing down the hall, past the open door of James' bedroom, and down the stairs. "They're here! They're here!"
"He must have seen them from the window. I bet my wand he was sitting there all morning," James said as he turned away and made his way downstairs.
Ginny closed her eyes and took a shaky breath. She knew she would never be fully prepared for the moment where she would meet Draco Malfoy again, much less his wife and son, but it didn't make it any easier. She stood up and looked at herself in the mirror. She was now thirty-seven, compact-looking with wispy red hair pulled into a bun and lines marking the edges of once pouty lips. She reached up to pull her wand out of her hair but remembered how he used to run his pianist hands through her waist-length locks and she put her hand down.