WHEN LIFE GIVES YOU PUMPKINS , james potter

━ fifteen. everybody loves james

CHAPTER FIFTEEN:
- everybody loves james -
1973

EVER SINCE HE WAS A LITTLE BOY, JAMES had dreamt of attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He'd grown up with stories from his parents about quidditch matches and Hogsmeade trips, of the feasts and magic and friendships and adventures of his parents. His mother would excitedly recount days of dueling with her friends in the courtyard and sneaking out late to play quidditch on the field after hours. And his father wouldn't shut up about the hidden passages and short cuts to the kitchens and studying in the spacious library of Ravenclaw Tower (to this day, James couldn't believe that his nature loving, home-baked brownie making, sock knitting, cried whenever she greeted his friends, fruit basket weaving mother was the badass one while his dad had been the nerd). (Like seriously, what kind of Gryffindor sneaks into the Ravenclaw Common Rooms just to read their books?).

     James would sit with his parents, eyes wide and full of wonder, minding running on a wild imagination of adventuring through the mysterious halls of Hogwarts with his friends, conquering evil with his sick defense skills, and crushing the other houses in quidditch games. He couldn't wait to make memories of his own that he was sure would last a lifetime.

     Euphemia and Fleamont Potter loved their son. (Who wouldn't? Don't know if you've heard, but James was pretty awesome.) As a child he was raised with only the best, by the best, and believing that he was, well, the best. The word "no" was a rarity in the Potter household, especially in response to James as he was constantly lathered in praises and kisses and given pretty much whatever he asked for. There was little James wanted that James didn't get and perhaps it was problematic, but hey, it's not like James was complaining.

     So it was no surprised that the day his Hogwarts letter arrived, his parents had celebrated by taking their son out to lavish him with the most expensive materials, robes, and quidditch gear. Their son was growing up! Euphemia had managed to cry for only half the trip.

     And after celebrating with only the three of them, the Potters commemorated James's leave from home with a feast, being sure to invite all of their friends. Party streamers, quidditch, practical jokes, cake!— all of James's favorite things were incorporated. But as he sat at the edge of the table, the first slice of cake on his plate with his parents beaming down at him, he couldn't help but look around. Sure his aunt, uncles, cousins, neighbors, his father's colleagues, and mother's friends were here to celebrate him, but that had been when he'd also become increasingly aware of the lack of people his age.

     James couldn't bring himself to smile much at the realization. These people were here not because they loved James or cared for him, but because they had to be. Like all the other things in his life, his parents had somehow managed to buy people who would loved him.

     "What's wrong, son?" Fleamont Potter walked into his James's room upon noticing his leave from the celebration. Euphemia trailed on behind him with a worried look. James had left in a hurry after being asked by his aunt which house he thought he would be in. "Everyone's asking about you."

James shrugged. "It's whatever. Tell the lot of them they can leave. I don't even know half of those people."

"James, what's wrong, dear?" Euphemia grabbed hold of her husband hand, leading him so they could both sit on James's bed. "You can tell us anything. What's bothering you?"

James fiddled with the loose string on his shirt. "I don't know I just... I don't want to go to Hogwarts anymore."

"What?" Fleamont furrowed his brows in disbelief. "But, son, it's all you've been able to talk about this week."