give her love » james potter

2

I'm not a religious person.

My mamma was, she had grown up going to church so she always woke us up every Sunday so we could do the same. Then I came here, and the only times I'd go were at Christmas and Easter Break, and also the occasional summer trip mamma insisted on. She wanted us to believe in something when times would get tough. I never really got that until everything happened.

The last time I stepped into a church was on the day of the funeral. I had sat alone in the left side of the front row the whole time until my parent's best friend and my godfather Winston moved to sit with ten minutes in, and we sat in silence the whole time until people started going up to share memories and stories.

My sister's boyfriend, Don, talked about how she had tried to knit him a scarf after hearing about how all the other girls did it for their boyfriends, but she couldn't tie a knot so just gave him a very large line of string. Great Aunt Phillis about how my father once brought home stray puppies and hid them under his bed for two weeks. There were so many stories, all a bit happy, silly, and always tinged with sadness.

Each one of them I tucked into a pocket in my heart, so I could remember on a lonelier day. It made me feel a bit less alone.

After the last one, me and Winston traded our own stories, all happy and fun. About over cooked pies, slipping on ice, and far too many pranks. We both laughed then after what had felt like centuries, and at that moment it felt better, just a little.

Inside that church, things got just a little bit better, and now I try to carry that around with me, whatever helped me move on, even if it was barely a centimeter.

It feels like a pray a lot nowadays.

It's not really praying, it's more like saying stuff and hoping the person up there can hear and understand, but it's kinda similar. A few times every week, I wake up extra early and take a walk in the school.

Today though I'm outside, in my yellow touque and bright pink mittens. And though you'd think I'd have realized early morning walks in October is a bad idea, I have not. One of the reasons my prayer today has included lots of cursing and angry weather remarks.

"You know this isn't fair, in Mexico it's probably plus forty. And in this school, in fucking October, it already feels like Antarctica," I whisper-yell looking at the sky, where peaks of the sun still aren't out because of the short winter days. "I think we already have to study this hard, why not give us some warm weather already?"

No answer.

I glare harder. "Be that way, I guess."

While walking back to my dorm, I hear footsteps (which is very out of the ordinary on a Sunday), that seem to multiply and get louder and before my brain can process anything I run into something.

"Shit!"

For a second I think perhaps I am dead, but then I blink again and four pairs of eyes are staring at me. At that moment I hope the floor will swallow me in whole because I am embarrassed for no reason, actually that's a lie, I'm embarrassed because the Marauders are staring at me and I am a mess. Not a hot mess, just a very cold mess with a runny nose and red face.

My face turns redder.

They give all shoot smiles at me.

I manage to find another level of embarrassment not known to existence.

"James," a voice--Remus Lupin who is giving a stern look, mutters. "Apologize."

At that James Potter gains back his thought and he shoots a small smile towards me, "Oh yes, very sorry about Pierce."

"It's ok," I mumble quietly, my eyes suddenly fascinated with everything except what's in front of me. I do notice an elbow going into his ribcage, so I act fast before I have to spend another second hear. "Well, I have to go now, uh. . . water my plants."

They all nod, as if they understand how difficult plant growing is.

I press my lips in a firm line and start my walk towards the Hufflepuff dorms, but before I turn the corner I hear multiple Bye Angelina!'s and a single Goodbye Pierce that seems to echo through the halls.