Disclaimer: I don't own anything but my OCs.
So this is the last chapter... Thank you all for reading! I hope you've enjoyed it, and let me know what you think!
This chapter is a bit different as it revisits James about a year and a half out of Hogwarts.
Happy Reading!
Chapter 4: James… Again (2024)
"Come on James it's cold!" the woman who was hurrying quickly in front of him shouted. He was enjoying the view though. She had a nice figure, long wavy dirty blonde hair, and her rump. She was right though, it was cold and there was snow falling in sheets to join the few inches already stuck to the ground below their feet. Diagon Alley was all but deserted as the storm struggled to reach full mass. "Are you coming or not?" she snapped, "It's your fault we're here anyways. You just had to go and break your wand into about a million pieces."
"You act like I did it on purpose," he pouted, "Come on Liv, don't be mean to me."
"Mean to you? James, you're the one who was stupid enough to step on his own wand. I, on the other hand, have been nice enough to let you borrow my wand at home whenever possible for the last three days."
She was right again. He had stepped on his own wand and she had been letting him borrow hers until they had time to get to Ollivander's. At work had been another story entirely. He'd had to use a dingy extra wand that all but backfired every time he touched it. "I know, I know, you've been very kind to me Olivia. Letting me borrow your wand had to be annoying."
"It was," she snapped. She was mad at him that much was clear. He didn't bother to ask why either. He knew why. They couldn't exactly afford to buy a new wand. They'd been married just under a year and they had managed to work through most of their already dismal savings.
"Could you please stop snapping at me? You know it was an accident. I didn't just wake up one day and decide 'Oh! I'm going to stomp all over my wand until it's past the point of no return and can't possibly be fixed so we're forced to spend money we don't have to replace it.' You know that's not at all what happened. Besides if you want to blame someone blame Mark."
"Blame Mark?" She asked sounding slightly exasperated and a little bit on the verge of hysterics.
"Yeah," he stated, "Blame Mark. It was his idea to go to that stupid pub anyways."
"And yet it was still you who stomped on his own wand," she shook her head keeping up her brake neck speed, "Your own wand, James."
It was true, but it was Mark's fault he'd been at that pub. They'd gone out to lunch a few days ago and he'd whined bitterly about how boring his life was.
"I wish I had something to do."
"What do you mean you wish you had something to do? You're on your lunch break in between classes at the Auror Academy. You barely have time to eat let alone muck about."
"That's not what I meant," Mark said moodily stabbing at his burger.
"Then do tell me, oh great Marcus Rose, what in the name of Salazar's most saggy left nut did you mean?"
"Someone's feisty today."
"Just work. Testing quidditch supplies for Zenith isn't anywhere near as exciting as I thought it would be. At least not when I'm more a gopher-secretary type than an actual gear tester."
"Oh waah," Mark said dodging a flying chip, "Oi! I mean it. At least you have your wife to go home to. What do I have?"
"A gold fish named Myrtle?" James asked trying not to grin.
"A damn depressing gold fish named Myrtle," he nodded in agreement taking another bite.
"That's what you get for naming the fish Olivia bought you after the ever weeping for all eternity," He said not able to hide a snigger. "This can't be just about your gold fish though. What is it?"
"I'm just bored. You're always with your wife and I'm just stuck at home looking after good old Moany the fish."
"What about your flat mate? Where's he?"
"Going out all the time with this witch or that witch. I swear he went out with a hag the other night. It's damn depressing. Your brother's not even around to keep me sane and go to the pubs with me when you're being all domestic. It's right frustrating seeing as he's still at school for another few months."
"That's what you get for going with a girl who's still in school. You could be going out too, but nooo, you're sitting around moping all day and night."
"Yeah, yeah. Hey! There's an idea," he said excitedly, "Come out with me tonight!"
"Nope, sorry, I cannot." He shook his head.
"Oh come on Jamey." He shook his head and glared at his best mate. He hated being called Jamey. "You got married and you got all boring. It's like you skipped your twenties and went straight to eighty. You and Liv are so old now. It's a right bore."
He glared, "You're not going to stop nagging until I agree to go with you are you?" Mark shook his head grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Fine, but you're paying for all my drinks you slimy git."
They had started that night good naturedly harassing Paul, the barman, at The Leaky Cauldron before moving to another pub in the heart of Diagon Alley. They'd gotten pissed and some bloke had tried to start a fight with James for 'staring at his bird' when he'd practically fallen asleep at the bar staring into the abyss where she just happened to be sitting. Mark had wound up attempting to punch the bloke but had ended up nocking James' wand on the floor instead in his drunken stupor. Breaking free from the gorilla of a man's grasp he had screamed, "Leg it you sod!" at James and that's when it had happened. Snapped several times under his own two feet, and his poor wand couldn't be fixed all because Mark had been bored.
"Look Liv, I am really sorry we have to spend this money on a new wand for me, but if I had it my way I'd still have my old one. You know how attached I was to my dogwood wand. I loved it."
She stopped speed walking through the snow and looked at him, "I know love. I'm just frustrated is all. I've saved up some pocket money to buy my brother those Twister robes he wanted for his birthday and now were using most of it to buy you this damn wand."
James pulled her into him and wrapped his arms around her, "Look, I'll pack my lunch every single day for the next six months, and tell Mark to stuff it if he starts wailing about not having a lunch companion. It'll be fine. You should get your brother those quidditch robes he wants."
She looked up at him, "Really? You'd do that?"
"Of course. I love you Olivia. I don't want you to have to suffer and feel bad for getting your brother some barmy gift because I was to selfish to pack a lunch."
She grinned at him. Merlin he loved this woman. Truth was they could afford about a hundred wands every day for the next year easy if his dad would just give him his trust.
Harry, however, thought very differently than his son. They began walking gloved hand in gloved hand through the snow at a much slower pace. James frowned. His father had been the one to help convince his mum and the rest of their family he was mature enough to get married only to turn around and with hold all of his money from him.
"If you're old enough to get married you're old enough to support yourself. I won't release the money James. No, I'm sorry don't be mad at me. You'll just have to wait until you're twenty-five just like your brother and sister. I'm sorry, really I am, I know that's not what you wanted to hear, but you're going to be married soon and you're the one who wanted to propose to Olivia before you were even out of school. You knew the rules, we'd support you kids if you live under our roof until your twenty, but you're getting married instead. It's time to be a man, son. You'll thank me for this some day. You and Olivia should learn to make it on your own. I can't pay your way forever. It's time you grew up."
James kicked an old butter bear bottle so ferociously it shattered. "James!" Olivia exclaimed with a startled look in his direction, "What are you doing? Are you ok?"
"Yeah, I'm fine just thinking about my good-for-nothing cheap as always father."
She gave him a look that was filled with both pity and understanding. It was an odd sort of look, but she had been sending it his way for the past eleven months they'd been married so he'd sort of gotten used to it.
"He just wants us to learn how to support ourselves. I know you don't see that right now, but we'll get through this. We'll be fine." She'd been much more forgiving to his father than he had. Sure, she was bitter at times that things weren't exactly the most comfortable but it also wasn't her father doing this to them.
He glared at the shop in front of them. He knew logically she was right, but that didn't stop him from feeling the slightest bit abandoned. He'd always been so close to his father and never thought in a million years he would deny his son's pleading to help them. It had become very obvious when they had started searching for a house that they couldn't afford one, let alone let a nice flat. He'd grown up a certain way and he'd never thought he would need a large personal Gringotts savings account. He'd counted on his dad, and he'd counted on that trust. Now though, everything was different. They were barely making ends meet off of his dismal entry-level wages and her part-time unpaid internship. Add to that that they were having to live in the small, dingy flat above Weasley Wizard Wheezes that always smelled faintly like it was burning and constantly needed the sound charms respelled, plus they couldn't have a muggle phone which made it difficult for Olivia to talk to her parents. Needless to say, things hadn't quite turned out as they had expected. Olivia had even started talking about asking his uncles for a part time job in their shop. It was ridiculous. That's where he and his cousins had worked for a bit of extra pocket money when they were in school. It was embarrassing, but Olivia was actually relatively excited at the thought of working at Wheezes since she never had before. Plus they lived right above it, and it would be an easy commute for her.
"James," she sounded surprised. He looked up and followed her gaze, "is that your father?" This is exactly what I need right now, he thought sarcastically. "What is he doing here?"
"No idea," he grumbled. He had half a mind to turn around and go straight home but he needed a wand and he was getting desperate. "Hello Father," he said coolly to the man leaning against the front of Ollivander's.
His dad gave him an exasperated look, "Don't be like that James. You need to stop treating me like I'm the enemy. It's getting old."
James bit the inside of his lip. "What are you doing here?" he asked bitterly. He had started shivering on top of everything and it was bloody cold out.
"Your mother told me you broke your wand. She said you'd be on your way over here today. Didn't know Olivia would be with you though. Hello Liv. You look lovely as always, pleasure to see you. Wish it was under better circumstances."
She smiled and hugged him – a bit stiffer than usual perhaps but James couldn't tell if that was from anger or the cold. "Hello Harry. It's nice to see you too."
He nodded at her. "That doesn't explain why you're here," James said glaring at him. This is what I get for communicating with my mother, he thought angrily.
"I'm here to buy my son a new wand," he said, "it's Christmas coming up and I thought this was the least I could do. You could use the galleons else where I expect."
"Thank you that's very kind of you," Olivia said smiling warmly at him. The traitor he thought.
"The least you could do? No I expect you could do a lot less. Oh wait, you are. You're doing nothing," he laughed humorlessly, "We don't need you to buy me a new wand."
Olivia looked nervously at him, "Actually James, this could really help. I have been worried about stretching us too thin over the holidays." He glared at her.
"It seems your wife has spoken, James," Harry looked at him, a hint of nerves on his face. He was at a loss as to how they had gotten here. He'd always had a particularly open relationship with his oldest child. When James had come to him and said he'd asked Olivia's parents for their permission during the holiday break of his final year he'd been skeptical, to say the least. Yet James had won him over and he could see they were happy. If money was their only concern – and he was very aware he'd never let them be destitute – then they were better off than most of the family predicted they would be. "You should let me buy you your wand, I'm your father it's my job to take care of you."
"Take care of me?" he laughed his weird little laugh again, "that's a laugh Dad. Really rich you are."
Harry glared at him, "Just let me help you Jamey, please." He waited a moment and watched his son glare back at him for using his boyhood nickname. He hesitated before continuing; "Olivia said it would help you two, just please can we not have this stand off for a moment?"
James stared at him, but it was only when Olivia squeezed his hand and nodded at him – when had they started speaking their own language like that? He and Ginny had struggled with that for ages before they'd finally become successful at it – that James finally relented, "Fine. You can buy my wand," he hesitated, "but don't expect me to go ranting and raving about it."
"Fair enough," he reached forward and pulled the shop door open feeling momentarily relieved. He heard the little bell go off like he had during James' first trip here eight and a half years ago.
Mr. Ollivander greeted them as they walked in feeling the warmth of the shop wash over them. "Ah, Mr. Potter, Mr. Potter, and the newest Mrs. Potter," he gave Olivia a little bow, "is there anything I can help you with? Nothing wrong with any of your wands I hope."
"Actually," James began, "I had a slight mix-up a few days ago," he pulled his destroyed wand from his pocket and laid it on the counter, "I'm afraid I'm in dire need of a new one, sir."
"I'm afraid so," Mr. Ollivander whispered taking off his hat and staring at the pieces of James' wand with the deepest look of sadness on his face. "Wand arm out Mr. Potter."
It was the same as the last time Harry had been there some years ago with Lily. The tape measure stretched itself out over and over again across all of his son as Mr. Ollivander began puling down box after box. There was a difference too, though. James knew more about what he wanted this time. He requested a dogwood but Mr. Ollivander said, "I don't know if that would be the best choice for you any more, Mr. Potter. I sense something has changed. Perhaps more accurately, you have changed. You've grown up. We can try a few of course, but I suggest a nice spruce this go round."
James gave a look of surprise, "But my wand had worked perfectly for me just days ago. I don't understand."
"That was based off of a bond you had forged when you were a much younger and a vastly different man. The wand choses the wizard after all, Mr. Potter." He handed James a wand, "Spruce and unicorn hairs thirteen inches exactly." The first wand didn't work and James was adamant about trying a dogwood as his second try. That didn't work either. In the end, it wound up being the third wand he tried that chose him, "fourteen and two sevenths inches, springy, spruce and dragon heartstrings, Mr. Potter."
It had been much the same as the first time James had found the perfect wand with the shooting of stars out of the tip and the excitement on his son's face. Only it wasn't, not really. This time everything was different. James was grown up with his own family now and they were the farthest apart they'd ever been.
His wand wasn't wrapped up for him this time around; it was just handed over as Olivia rained praise down on it. Harry thought to try and make his son feel better about losing his first one – and perhaps a bit to make up for the crummy relationship between himself and his oldest at the moment, he noted bitterly. James looked at his dad before exiting the shop. He scuffed his trainer into the carpet before thrusting out his hand, "Erm," he coughed, "Thank you. I know you didn't have to do that. So, um, thanks. Yeah. Just thanks – Dad."
Harry felt like crying out at the awkwardness of it all. This was his child whom not a year previously he'd been celebrating his new marriage with through friendship and jokes. He gripped his son's hand and pulled him into a hug, "I will always be your dad, James. Always. And I will always be there for you – when you truly need me. Never forget that," he muttered into his son's ear. James nodded and they pulled apart, "Your mother would like you to stop by for dinner at the house some time this week. Just whenever you two have the time is fine. We'll be there every night, no plans, so just feel free to pop in."
James nodded his acceptance. "We'll do that Harry," Olivia promised. They went in their own direction up the street, but James looked over his shoulder back at his dad before turning the corner on their way back to Weasley Wizard Wheezes. Harry couldn't help but think there's hope for us yet.