You wish Potter : A Jily Fanfiction

Clovelly

More than a week later, James awoke feeling slightly dazed and confused by a series of dreams in which Lily, about to kiss him, had turned into chocolate ice cream and melted. For a few moments, he lay immobile, then hastily he put on his glasses, leapt out of bed and scrambled into the freshly laundered jeans and t-shirt that one of the elves had laid out for him at the foot of his bed, probably at some unearthly hour in the morning.

He had been revisiting the broom-cupboard in his dreams since arriving at the summer house in Clovelly. Clovelly was a small fishing village in Devon, set into a steep hillside. A cobbled path called Main Street wound its way down the length of the village, between whitewashed cottages, to a small harbour. The Potter house stood alone at the top of the hill, tucked away amongst trees and shrubbery and roads to other places.

A short familiar walk from the house was a cliff, overlooking the sea. James sat there most evenings, when Sirius was out with Marlene, drinking in the cliff-top view of open sky and wide, empty sea; feeling the cold salty wind on his face; listening to the constant ebb and flow of the waves, that sounded like the breathing of some great, slumbering creature. He blamed this lonely and beautiful place for his recurring dreams; there was too much time and space for thinking.

It didn't help that his mum had banned James and Sirius from playing quidditch in the garden in case they were seen by the muggles in the village. James had pointed out that everyone who had lived in Clovelly for a hundred years had suspected that there was something strange about the house and its inhabitants; not for any substantial reason, such as boys on flying broomsticks, but simply because it was traditional. This was true. His parents had made every effort to fit in with the neighbours, but still they were the subject of local gossip. Most disconcerting were the strangely dressed guests, who seemed to appear and then disappear without the use of transport, and the sudden appearance of nocturnal birds: most of the people in Clovelly had never seen an owl, but as soon as the Potters arrived for the summer, they would swoop past in broad daylight. Mrs Potter had argued that when one already suspects witchcraft, seeing two boys flying around on broomsticks would be a crucial piece of evidence, and the broomsticks were locked in the shed.

When James arrived in the kitchen ten minutes later, having had a shower and made some attempt to tame his wild hair, it was to find Sirius at the basin beneath the window trying to coax a handsome tawny owl off the apple tree.

"Yours is on its way, Prongs," said Sirius, pointing through the kitchen window. Joining Sirius, James could see a black speck clearly visible in the sky, growing larger all the time. It became clear as it flew closer to the house, that the owl was carrying his Hogwarts letter.

Mrs Potter came into the kitchen with an opened tin of sardines. "These should do the trick, Sirius," she said holding them up to the window. "Morning, honey," she added to James.

As soon as it smelled the fish, the postal owl soared through the window and landed on the table. James' owl followed. They lifted their right legs and the boys untied their letters. James slit it open and unfolded the parchment inside, dropping his envelope on the table.

Sirius abruptly stopped reading his own letter and looked up. "What was that noise?" he asked.

"It'll be a new Captain's badge," said James, picking up his torn envelope. He put a scarlet Quidditch Captain's badge on the table, then reached back into the envelope, took out another badge and held it up to inspect it in the light. Two words gleamed on the surface: Head Boy.

The three of them gazed at it in silence for a moment. James studied the badge as though he were not quite sure whether his eyes were deceiving him.

"Is that...?" Sirius' voice trailed off. "Prongs, are you...?"

James' eyes grew wide. "I'm head boy," he whispered in disbelief.