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James's head rests on my lap. My hands are entangled in his hair, quietly playing with it while he deals with the internal turmoil that he prefers to have in silence. His beds small, and fitting us both in is a hassle especially in the position we're quite in.

His hands skim my bare legs and I feel my school skirt ride up every time I even move. Each time it feels like a firework goes off after his fingers tips graze my skin and I wonder if I have the same effect on him.

They always tell you, when you're barely eleven and in your first year, that this'll all go by so fast. You'd roll your eyes back everybody says that. When exam season comes or the dread OWLS, you just hope time will just speed up. But, the crazy thing is time always zooms by when you wish it could stay still for a moment.

It's a menace. But, a loveable menace who always extends its hand towards you on the most terrible of days.

Some people are good at it, dealing with grief. They're able to wade through the tough times easier. Have better support systems. Can reach peace easier and give their souls a rest of all the guilt.

"Do you know what your Patronus is," he asks, looking away from the ceiling to me. 

I shake my head. "I've tried but I've never been able to do it," I tell him, thinking of how I spent the entirety of sixth year only seeing whisps but never a full animal. "Do you?"

"A stag."

"Is that where Prongs comes from?"

He laughs. "Yeah," then proceeds to tell me how Sirius is a dog, Peter's a rat, and Remus is a . . . "Uhm," he pauses, "he's kind of a wolf."

"Very cool," I say, then grab the St. Mungo's envelope that's been sitting on his chest for the last hour. Since our last row, I thought he'd appreciate the gesture of him being there for the great reveal.

James had already been accepted to the Auror Academy with Sirius, and with a handful of other Gryffindors, they'd thrown a final farewell of sorts last night. It was this bittersweet moment of realizing you'd finally grown up and would be leaving the place that had nearly raised you the last seven years.

I'd hate to say I peaked in Hogwarts, but I find myself wishing I had more time as each day goes on. It's the home of so many firsts and memories, the place where I'd spent my teen years and grown into someone who's still terrified of becoming an adult. 

Maybe, it'll take decades for me to truly know if it was some big monumental part of my life. I'll be sitting at my death bed and my granddaughter will be asking me, "Nonna Angelina, what do you remember most?" I won't know how to answer. I'll look at her and she'll have inherited the brown eyes that are generations old, then think of being young and falling off bikes and catching butterflies. I'll think of the loss, soon after, of death and an ache that never goes away. But, maybe, it's all the love that I'll remember the most.

I'll remember all the fights and all the forgiving. I'll remember the sadness of goodbyes and the way my heart would break apart as I got an I'm-glad-your-back-hug. I'll remember bittersweet letters that sit in a box under my bed. I'll remember birthday's and shooting stars spent on old crushes. I'll remember those secret glances and smiles then the kisses and the way I love you felt as it's spoken into your skin.

So, I think of a future filled with as much love as there is heartache and open the envelope.

My head falls onto James's shoulder, I turn the letters towards him.

"How do you feel?"

I shrug. "Like I'm finally the ninja . . ."

". . . who climbs up the mountain to find the master?"

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