James Potter: The Marauder's Year

Chapter two - James Freakin' Potter

James Freakin' Potter

~~~~

     James Freakin' Potter was the definition of a troublesome boy. He was a small, skinny, jet-black-haired boy with bright Hazel eyes. Blind eyes, he wore glasses. And he was a very rich boy. Well, his family was part of an old pureblood line, so what would you expect? You see, his parents are Aurors. Therefore, they were always working on investigations for dark wizards. They could be gone on their missions for hours, days, and sometimes weeks. So, more often than not, James was stuck at home with either his watcher (He refused to call her babysitter) or the House-elves. For the first 11 years of his life, he was stuck at home all day. Oh, right... I should explain more.
     Wizards and Muggles are similar in many ways, but there is always one big distinction between the two. Their school system. Muggles tend to believe that children from 5 and up need to go to school in person. Not Wizards though, especially not Pureblood Wizard families. James, along with many kids, was tutored at home. So it shouldn't come as a surprise that, being so rich, growing up as an only child, his parents being away so much and loving him with money, along with not socializing much with other kids his age, Potter was a bit spoiled. Okay, he was very spoiled.
     Maybe I shouldn't have started off introducing James like that. The truth is, he wasn't a bad kid. He just tended to get into trouble a lot and was very clueless as to what life without so much money was like.
"James Potter, you get back here!" his watcher, Elizabeth said.
     James had picked up Elizabeth's wand, deciding to mimic his father, whom he had seen many times with his wand, and accidentally set the trash can on fire with the flick of his wrist. The boy jumped back.
     "Hey, it was supposed to shoot out a deer like dad!" James whined, disappointed.
     Elizabeth sighed and took her wand away from James to stop the fire.
     "James give that back to Thomas, he had it first!" said Elizabeth one day, catching James taking away a toy from another kid as he did on so many occasions.
     That was the last time he went to daycare, Elizabeth would watch James at home for the rest of his life.
     "James Potter, I am very disappointed in you." His parents came back many times from work saying these words.
     But James didn't mind. His parents worked all day, every day, and they missed many important milestones in James' life. They did care about him, but James wasn't sure about that all the time, and he at least had the comfort of knowing that they cared about whether or not he was growing up to be a good person. Every time he misbehaved very badly, they would go home. So, James found himself misbehaving more and more to make them come back, no matter if they were angry with him or not.
    Yes, James has misbehaved in Elizabeth's care many times. But Elizabeth couldn't stop herself from caring deeply for the boy. To James, Elizabeth was an extension of his family. Elizabeth was a replacement if he couldn't see his mother or father.
"Where's mummy and daddy?" A 5-year-old James Potter asks, he had just won his first Quidditch match in his little league team.
Elizabeth's face fell. How in the name of Merlin does one tell a 5-year-old that their parents were on a dangerous mission that could get them killed?
"They had a very important meeting to do at work." She replied hastily.
"What meeting?" James asked curiously.
"I can't tell, it's top secret. But your mum and dad are in charge of the meeting, and they're going to catch all the bad guys! We can celebrate your win properly when they come back."
Fleamont and Euphemia could not be in their son's life as much as they all wished they could, but James still looked up to them. They were the best people he knew.
Despite his homeschooling and small social interactions, he wasn't alone. Contrary to his house, James Potter lived in a small village with very few other families that were as big as his. The village that Potter Manor is in is located just a little farther away from the big cities. Next to this house in the woods, were the Potter's next-door neighbors, the McKinnons. The McKinnons and the Potters have been family friends for centuries, it was only natural that the children born into those families were close, since they were mainly the only ones around. James Potter was an only child, but the McKinnons' golden child, Marlene McKinnon, was not. Marlene and James had been friends since they were born, James practically viewed Marlene like a sister. Many times, the McKinnons have found James in their company more than he was at home and vice versa.
"Marlene, wait up!" James hollered as he sped after Marlene.
Marlene threw her head back and laughed, "You're going to have to be faster than that to catch me, Potter!"
They were in the air on their brooms, chasing each other around, racing around James's Quidditch pitch in his backyard. James had been caught off guard.
"No, fair! You counted to three too fast!" James was picking up more speed now.
Marlene grinned, she looked back at him and stuck out her tongue, getting cocky.
James scowled, but he didn't give up yet. After all, he had the fastest and newest broom the wizarding world had to offer. The Nimbus 1000.
James sped up as fast as his broom could offer, that poor Marlene, no matter how good she was on a broom, could not keep up as he surpassed her.
"Ah, sorry McKinnon, but you can't beat these Potter skills," James smirked arrogantly.
Marlene, who was still bitter about losing, replied, "Yeah, skills...more like money."
James rolled his eyes, "Let's switch brooms then, I bet I could still beat you."
They repeated the race, and Marlene won. Though, James did come pretty close.
James and Marlene always played roughly with each other. Even though at first James was hesitant to rough house, Marlene quickly showed him that she could take it. The two were inseparable, never saw one without the other.
James was arrogant, spoiled, and sometimes presumptuous, but he also had a heart of gold. He was a very black-and-white person. He believed if you were good, you were a good person, and if you were bad, you were a bad person. His parents certainly had a part in that trait, even if they didn't realize it.
Fleamont and Euphemia Potter were the happiest they had been in two weeks. Mr. Potter had just come back from a long mission mere hours ago and was happy to spend time with his wife and son. Once James had gone to bed, Euphemia and Fleamont went into his office and started to slow dance to some music. It had been too long since Fleamont got to hold his wife in his arms, and he missed the feeling all too much.
     Suddenly, an owl pecked on the window to his office. An owl he knew all too well. Dread filled Fleamont once more. 'I just came back from a mission, why do they have to call now?' He thought. Euphemia looked up from his chest and gave a solemn expression. 'Who would they call in now?' That was the question.
     "I've just come back from a mission," Mr. Potter grumbled. "They aren't likely to call me back."
     Euphemia nodded. Whatever the ministry needed now, they were calling for her. 'This' Mr. Potter thought, 'is worse than them calling me back.' For he hated when any of his family was called to be put in danger, even if that person was as skillful as his wife was with a wand. Euphemia was the first to let go, she walked over to the window and opened it.

To: Euphemia Potter
From: Ministry of Magic; Auror Department

     James had been walking to the kitchens for some milk when he heard his father and mother in the study. The young boy peeked around the corner to find his mother frantically picking up her wand and throwing on a jacket. His father seemed distressed.
     "You don't have to go." He said, abruptly stopping her by holding onto her wrists.
     Euphemia softened. "You and I both know that I do. This isn't a matter of personal choice, it's a matter of doing what is right."
     Fleamont stared back at his wife with loving eyes, "I hate this. Why do they have to ruin everything."
     Euphemia knew who he meant by "they", and it wasn't the ministry.
     "They are cruel and evil, they know no limits. They've named themselves...what was it? Death Eaters?" Euphemia and Fleamont chuckled.
     "I mean what kind of name is that?" She smiled. "But they are still a danger right now. And who knows? This next mission might be the one that gets rid of them for good!" She mused.
     Fleamont still didn't look convinced.
     "Look, they are a small organization. They aren't as powerful as the Aurors and they never will be. Everything will be back to normal in no time." Euphemia took her hand off Fleamont's face and headed out of the office.
     James panicked and ran to the side of the hall where he wouldn't be seen. His mother looked toward the stairs as if debating herself over something.
     "I'll tell him in the morning," Fleamont called once he figured out what she was thinking.
     Euphemia nodded, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. "Tell him I love him, too."
     And like that, she was off. She shut the front door behind her and walked outside the gates of the Potter Manor.
     Fleamont sighed, he walked out of his office and toward the stairs. And as he did so, James walked further out of sight to the kitchen. Once the ten-year-old boy heard his father shut the door to his parent's bedroom, he began to cry. He no longer felt in the mood to be drinking milk, so he ran out of the kitchen and went up into his room.
     He cried himself to sleep that night.
     James did that often. Cried. But most of the time never in front of people. Growing up, he was always loved by his parents and when meeting people, they always described James as "the happiest little boy you'll ever see". It made his parents happy to see him happy, and James knew that. He also knew that his parents have done a lot, not just for him, but for the whole Wizarding world. So, he felt, that feigning happiness was the least he could do for his parents. The least.
     However, one instance in which he does not have to fake happiness is happening right now.
     "James Potter, it is 9:30 in the morning, wake up!" Mrs. Potter's voice could be heard down the stairs.
     James groaned in his sleep. Five more minutes, he thought. It was silent for the next few minutes, all he could hear was the chirping of the birds outside. Then,
     "James Potter, I am your mother and I have just told you to wake up! Don't you dare ignore me!" Mrs. Potter called out again.
     James groaned louder this time as he threw the covers of his bed back. He put on his slippers and headed down the stairs where he could smell his mother's food already cooked and ready to eat. Once Euphemia caught sight of her son, she just laughed.
     James furrowed his eyebrows, "What's so funny?" he asked.
     Euphemia smiled warmly, "Hunny, dear, maybe you should check the mirror and fix your hair."
     James scowled playfully as he walked to the nearest bathroom. Merlin my hair is a mess, he thought as he looked into the mirror. He tried his best to salvage his hair and tame it, but it was no use. He walked back out of the bathroom and joined his mother for breakfast.
     "So, why did you wake me up so early?" James questioned as he cut into his pancakes.
     "Early?! It's already 9:30!" she replied with wide eyes.
     "Mum, it's only 9:30!" James replied cheekily.
     Euphemia rolled her eyes and continued, "Well, I thought you wouldn't forgive me if I let you sleep in later than you already have when it is a very important day today."
     James raised an eyebrow. An important day? Nothing was going on today besides going to visit Marlene, he supposed. And then it hit him why he was going to go visit her today. His eyebrows raised high as he quickly got out of his seat and rushed to the kitchen window. Euphemia chuckled. Was this it, was it finally here?
     James found a card sitting near the windowsill.

Dear Mr. Potter,
we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

James grinned.