TWO OF HEARTS ♧︎ ᴊ . ᴘᴏᴛᴛᴇʀ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ

♣ SIX OF SPADES ♣

"INVITE THE POTTERS OVER."

"What?" Nicolas blinked at his adoptive mother in disbelief. She let out a small tsk and turned around to face the boy.

"I said, invite the Potters over. They can have dinner with us tomorrow night. It is Christmas time, after all, and we are neighbours. And you do go to school with James." Nicolas sighed. "Come on, it will be fun. I've been dying to ask Mrs Potter about the pasta bake she made. I want to know what she put in it."

"Magic," Nicolas's younger brother, Joey, commented absentmindedly. Nicolas snorted, but their mother only frowned at her youngest son. "I mean, you never know."

"Just because they're a family of witches and wizards doesn't mean they use magic in their cooking." She glanced over to Nicolas. "Do people use magic in cooking?"

"No, mum, unless it's to prepare the food. They don't add stuff to it." Nicolas found his mother's oblivious nature amusing, but it wasn't her fault. After all, she was only a muggle and still learning about his world. Nicolas let out a sigh. "So, is it just for tomorrow night, did you say?"

"Yes, thank you so much, Nic. And you can stay over there and hang out if you want to today. I'll just need the answer when you come back." Nicolas thanked her and stood up from the table. He placed his bowl into the sink and headed back to his bedroom to get dressed.

He travelled up the stairs to his room, saying good morning to his father on the way, and quietly shut his bedroom door. The family cat, Ferguson, which Nicolas had always called Fungus, was dozing on the end of his bed, resting on the pile of clean wash his mother had brought up earlier that morning. He sighed and stepped over to the other side of his room where his wardrobe sat, opening it to reveal one side with clothes hanging up and the other with shelves filled with his folded items. Nicolas picked out a pair of washed-out blue jeans, a white graphic shirt from last Christmas, and a thick dark blue woollen turtleneck. He looked outside, thankful the snow had stopped the day before and grabbed a white scarf his adoptive grandmother had knitted for him, tying it around his neck because, even though he was inside, Nicolas was still freezing his butt off. He pulled on a pair of worn-out boots over the two pairs of thick socks he'd worn to bed, then finally exited his room, flipping off Fungus before he fully closed his door.

Nicolas walked back into the kitchen. "Did you need me to get you anything to bring back?" He queried. If he was going out, he might as well ask.

"All we need is a new loaf of bread, but don't worry about that until you come back, alright?" Nicolas nodded at his mother. "Alright, we'll see you later, then."

"Yeah, bye!" Nicolas waved to his family gathered in the kitchen and made his way out the front door.

Stepping outside, Nicolas took a moment to breathe in the frosty air. It hurt, almost, to inhale and exhale, but he would get used to it quickly if he kept moving. He shoved his already freezing hands into his jean pockets, muttering curses to himself about forgetting his gloves, and hastily moved across the snow-covered road, looking both ways as he did for oncoming vehicles. Nicolas stopped at the Potters' door, shuffling his feet to keep his blood pumping and keep warm. He could see his quick breaths escape his mouth with the white fog, something he was always amused with. Nicolas took the moment of peace with gratitude before finally pulling a hand from his pocket to knock on the door. His knuckles were mere centimetres from the dark wooden door when it opened, revealing a wide-grinning glasses-wearing James Potter. Nicolas blinked, stunned, but hastily shoved his cold hand back into his pocket.

"Sorry, Nic, I, uh, saw you coming from my bedroom window." James chuckled to himself. "Here, come in. Sorry, I should have said that first." Nicolas shuffled past the boy, who closed the door and leaned against it as he watched Nicolas accustom himself to the warmth again. "So... to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

Nicolas held back his urge to roll his eyes at James. "My mum asked me to come over and invite you all to dinner tomorrow. Christmas Eve eve with the neighbours." Nicolas shrugged and slipped his scarf from his neck.

"And?" James prompted with a smirk. Nicolas let out a sigh. He turned to the hooks on the wall to his right and placed his scarf there. "Oh, come on, you and I both know how badly you want to see me."

"Fine, yes, James. Did you want to hang out today? You must be lonely without your frankly ragtag group of scoundrels. Especially with my best friend's grip over your right-hand men." He grinned at the boy.

"Aw, let them be in love," James stepped closer to Nicolas and gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Come on, my parents are in the kitchen."

Nicolas followed James to where his parents were, as he said, in the kitchen, having their breakfast. They greeted him with warm smiles and hearty good mornings. Nicolas fidgeted slightly as he asked them if they were okay with having dinner, to which they both happily accepted, thanking Nicolas for the offer, then James dragged him out of there without another word. Nicolas let out a huff of annoyance at James, but both boys knew it wasn't true. After many days spent together, Nicolas was sure James could tell when he was lying or not.

"You know, Dad got me a new record on Monday. Thought you might like to hear it," James commented, pulling Nicolas into his bedroom by the shoulder of his shirt. Nicolas turned around, facing the boy with a raised brow as James shut the door. They locked eyes for a moment before his gaze averted elsewhere, and his expression shifted. "Oi, you mangy cat, get off my stuff."

Nicolas spun his head to where James was looking, finding the orange furball James was speaking to, stretching as it balanced on James' broom. Clearly, the item had been knocked over, as James took significantly more pride in the broomstick than, from Nicolas's observations, anything else in his room. The Gryffindor boy marched over to the animal and grabbed it, hoisting it up and walking back to the door, managing to twist it open far enough to place the cat outside. He shut the door again and leaned his head against it.

"I bloody hate that cat."

"I know," Nicolas hummed, half a grin gracing his lips. James didn't hide his smile as he walked over to Nicolas, stopping just in front of the boy and gazing down at him. Nicolas assumed James was up to playfully flirting as the two had grown accustomed to doing so in the moments they spent alone. "What is it, Potter?"

James hummed cocking his head to the side. "Thought you would have grown a bit taller, Jones," he responded. "But I guess I was wrong."

Nicolas shoved the boy away, shaking his head. Now his annoyed expression wasn't false, and James could only smirk at him.

"You are an ass, Potter." Nicolas rolled his eyes and walked over to the boy's bed, taking a seat before flopping onto his back. "A right ass."

"Is this where you tell me to go pick on someone my own size because we sure as hell know it isn't you?" James laughed.

"Oh, piss off." Nicolas groaned. He brought up his hands and covered his face with them. "Now hurry and and play that record. Your music is the only reason I choose to hang out with you."

"Yes, sir," James shot back, already walking over to his record player and record shelf.

♣ SIX OF SPADES ♣

hullo! I've been very busy, clearly, with the three updates today, lol. how r u? i hope you're keeping yourself hydrated. make sure to get a cup of something to drink asap.

anyways, i hope you enjoyed this update. thank you for reading; leave a comment and vote, and I'll see you all next time. bye! :)