give her love » james potter

24

"1978 already," Aunt Sally mutters as she combs my hair. "I swear last week it was still the fifties and I was fighting with my mother over boys."

I smile, playing with my necklace. "There's still five more hours if that makes you feel any better."

She pinches my cheeks, "Yes, Ang, the year I'm going to be turning forty is five hours away. It gives me so much more relief."

Aunt Sally continues to fuss over me, adding lipgloss and perfume again and again until she's satisfied. I don't know why I decided to get ready here, Rachel and Jane would've happily helped even though Rachel had declined the offer to come. They probably wouldn't have spent so long getting me ready either. But it wouldn't have felt the same.

I like pretending I'm fourteen right now. I'm fourteen and Nathaniel, the Shakespeare reading smoker who lives a street down is sitting with me on the stairs while everyone else enjoys the Christmas party. I have no friends, I said to him. I've taken up smoking, he told me. Then we sort of just sat there for a few moments and then he leaned into me and said, if I don't get to kiss you before you disappear to some faraway private school, I might die. I'd smiled because nobody had ever said something like that to me before, I wouldn't want you to die, I mumbled before kissing him.

She'd caught us a few moments later, I was so embarrassed that I'd ran back home. Aunt Sally had followed me back and we'd sat on my bed while I told her about everything. Her hands massaged my scalp that had been trapped in a tight braid as she listened to me go on and on about how Nathaniel was probably my soulmate but we'd never get a chance.

History lives around us. It seeps through our conversations, through inside jokes and anecdotes. It plays again and again like a broken record in front of me. I don't think something historical is going to happen tonight but I know that it's something new and unfamiliar.

James. His friends. A party with people I barely even have talked to.

I like the thought that Aunt Sally is beside me because she calms me.

"Honey," she whispers, and I make a hmm sound. "Be safe, okay? I know it's New Years and you'll want to have some fun, but be responsible about it all. I trust you, Ang, don't think I don't." She wraps her arms around me and gives me a little hug. "I just worry sometimes because you're my girl. Our girl. Win and I, god, we can't believe that you're seventeen sometimes. It's scary knowing you're growing up and living a life that might include less and less of us."

I roll my eyes because the teenager in me can't help it, but I look at her and say sincerely. "You guys are never ever getting rid of me. The older I get, the more you guys should expect me to visit. Family is forever, Aunt Sal."

James' house is gigantic.

As I take a step inside, my mouth almost falls open at the size of everything. It's probably three times the size of my own house, which is a decently large space itself being able to hold seven people.

I'm taking off my coat while his mum introduces herself.

"You can call me Euphemia," she says, leading me to where everyone is. "I'm a bit tired of being called Mrs. Potter, Angelina."

I smile, feeling shy now. "Most people call me Lina," I tell her, then think to my Aunt. "Or you could call me Ang, if you'd like to."

Her laugh is the same as James', genuine. Her smile is just like his too. Or maybe you'd say his smile is like hers since she's the one he gets it all from. I'm not sure how to put it at all, but all I know is, he's a lot like her.