give her love » james potter

52

Maggie and I are spending the day together.

Siobhan and Edwin are on some weekend getaway, and Siobhan's parents were busy on Saturday so I was the first person to be called up. The godmother life means I'm the on-call babysitter forever.

She's pointing at some quidditch figurines, "Nini. Nini!"

I grab one of Muffy Matterson, a woman who advocated for equality in the sport. She has bright blonde hair pulled into a bun and has a serious look on her face. I like her striped pink shirt and feel it sends a good message so I hand it to Maggie.

"Do you like to colour?"

She stares back at me as if to remind me her vocabulary consists of a dozen words and I'm not getting anything back from her that isn't my name or maybe an occasional 'Why'.

But I'm taking her to the book area of the shop anyway because I'd seen some autobiography and quidditch themed stationery, which I willingly whore my money out to any day. Life is so long and if I have to be in healer school for a few years, I might as well have pretty pens and notebooks to motivate me a little.

There's an open notebook surrounded by pens. So, I get to it. Trying out all of them until I'm able to find the perfect one for myself.

"Jeez, Lina. Leave some ink for the rest of us."

I smile, then turn towards James. He's recently cut his hair and the usual mess has become a shorter-neater-mess. "You look like someone I used to know," I say, jokingly.

He rolls his eyes and then looks down at Maggie. "Hey, bubs," he greets her, then glances up again a bit more serious now. "How've you been?"

"Good," I say, then repeat it again because I'm just always so awkward. "Really good actually."

"That's good."

"What about you?"

James gives me a small smile, "I've been alright."

We both look away, a long time being apart and too many feelings making the moment feel cluttered and hard to understand. Maybe time heals and is healthy, but it also puts a gap between you and the person that can't be overcome in a matter of minutes.

I don't like that it isn't easy anymore. The staple of simplicity I'd grown accustomed to has disappeared and I tuck my hair behind my ears and pretend it doesn't make me upset.

But, some CCR song comes up and I ask, "Do you wanna meet up tomorrow night and talk? I'm busy with Maggie today but . . ."

He nods. "Yeah," he says. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Rachel and I are at our fifth apartment of the day with an agitated Maggie.

She's judging the wood flooring that's been scratched up. "Can you replace this," she asks the owner, then points towards the small bathroom down the hall. "Also, the tiling in there looked pretty rough, so that as well. The price is higher than our budget but we love the area, if you were willing to do this then I could guarantee that down payment by the weekend."

Oh god, she's so good at this stuff. I'm behind her trying to smile at the landlady who looks unsure about the offer, probably not used to someone as forward as Rachel who also commented something about her Aunt being some lawyer.

When the woman agrees and walks away, Rachel spins around grinning. "We're officially adults now."

"Yeah," I whisper, looking around at the empty room with endless possibilities. "God, I already love this place a lot."