a childhood filled with magic

because some of y'all ugly snape/snily stans are really getting on my nerves, here are some gentle reminders about the overly pompous arse: james potter— boy extraordinaire

• james grows up in a happy family. his childhood is filled with first magic celebrations and awkward tumbles from quidditch practices and it’s an overall, nice kind of picturesque apple pie life

• so when james goes to hogwarts and boards the train it’s not— it’s not anything new. at least not yet.

• it’s not until he finds himself at odds in finding a seat that it really strikes him as a whole new world compared to something that always seemed given to him

• so robes and wand in hand, he swerves past bustling students (damn him and his athletic abilities) and peers into a nearly full compartment

• he knocks lightly (okay, loudly, alright? when has james ever done anything without a thundering finesse) and a boy with straw hair and sullen eyes slides the door open and offers a silent sweep of his hand to an empty space next to a boy with dark grey eyes and a contorted expression of a scowl and a grin. he’s a black: james has seen him in passing when the rare invitation for galas or balls somehow finds its way into the potter house; sirius was his name. sirius orion. james remembers laughing when he first heard about him.

• when their robes are changed and a mousy kid named peter starts talking with more excitement, sirius cracks open a smile and remus chews on a chocolate bar and james realizes that magic isn’t something you take, but something to be given.

• he meets lily

• and it’s like—

• it’s like the world tilts on a dangerous axis and starts spinning off course

• it’s like she’s the centre of everything, and the very thought of her sends him in orbit with brand new fervour

• lily’s the exact moment that james realizes that magic isn’t something to abuse, but something to cherish and hold, and break into parts until it fits into the heart of someone else

but the thing is.

the thing is is that she hates him

• so naturally, he hates snape

• and it’s childish and crude, and if anyone asks him in later years, he would say that snape deserved every bit of it

• but in truth, he would recall the quiet and warm voice of remus, snuggled in a fetal position on the gryffindor common room couch, mumbling in the wee hours of dawn

• ‘lily isn't— lily isn’t something you own, you know? she’s like the muse of every artist, but she isn’t some untouchable painting, prongs. she's— she’s human. nothing less, and nothing more. you shouldn’t immortalize her, that’s the same thing as snape’s twisted fantasy of his minuscule chance with her.’

• and james had blinked over the glaring light of his horrid glasses and paused into nothingness— too quiet, that remus had lifted his head to check if he was still breathing

• and then he had laughed and said, ‘do you have a crush on her or something? is she you’re mate? is that even a thing??’

• the ‘fuck off, prongs.’ wasn’t missed to james’ ears

• skip through time a little and he stops obsessing. he doesn’t steal obscene plants from the greenhouse to present to her, and he stops paying the ghosts to sing renditions of elvis songs in the middle of the great hall

• and it’s not until sixth year that lily starts to notice

• so the first date goes along smoothly, and the first hand hold is without any sweaty palms, and the first hug is comfortable enough

• but the first kiss is absolutely awful

• there’s fumbling and teeth against teeth and it’s all very trial and error

• and then lily tilts her head back; all soft eyes, and bright hair, and golden mind, and james can see the glow of fire around her in the setting sun

• 'it’s okay, james.’ she says. 'we’re okay.’ and she slowly leans in again, and meets her mouth against his and she tastes like home. warm, and pliant, and pure happiness.

• when they go into hiding years later, james still visibly sags with relief every time he hears the familiar coo of harry’s giggle, and the everlasting wonder of lily’s sighs of content

• and when voldemort leaves his body cold and empty, he remembers the taste of her lips against his.

• home and magic and everything good in between.