Dear Mr. James Potter,
I have it on good authority that you are currently in possession of one, Miss Lily Evans’s, fine and informative Potions textbook. As Miss Evans’s leading counsel, I have been commissioned to tell you that if you return the textbook to its rightful owner immediately, there will be no charges brought up against you. If you, however, choose to ignore this request, a suit against you and your estate for the sum of forty-four and a half billion galleons will be filed just as soon as it is able.
Thank you for your time and patience and I beg of you to consider your options and come to a decision quickly.
Mr. Harold John William Whittinghamm-Strathimore III
P.S.— Give me back my textbook, Potter. You’re such a thief. -L
Dear Mr. Harold John William Whittinghamm-Strathimore III,
Good day to you, sir, and I bid you thanks for your gracious letter. It is indeed true that I am currently in possession of one, Miss Lily Evans’s, fine and informative textbook, but I find it difficult to comply with the wishes listed in your previous dictate. You see, Miss Evans’s textbook is of a special variety. She tends to write very useful bits of information along the margins of the pages that are presently helping me in answering the questions assigned to me by one, Professor Abbott, and I’m afraid that as such, I am reluctant to give up such a treasure. As I’m sure she Miss Evans has already noticed, I cleverly stashed my own textbook in her bag, which she can use to her pleasure until I am able to return hers to her.
I thank you for your time and patience and ask you to kindly inform Miss Evans that I do not, under any circumstance, possess the sum of forty-four and a half billion galleons, anyway, and ask for what transgressions of mine does such an astounding sum seem a plausible compensation for.
Awaiting Your Response,
Mr. James Thomas Potter, Esquire
P.S.— I am as good and honest as the day I was born. And don’t you feed your owl, woman? The bird practically snapped my finger off in her haste to get to the treat. -J
“Tuney, why are you whispering?”
“Because it’s a secret, you dolt!”
“That’s not a nice thing to say to someone —”
“I know where mum hid our Christmas presents!”
“What? Where? I wanna know!”
“In the hall closet, on the very top shelf. I can’t reach them though.”
“Well, neither can I… I’m smaller than you! Now what?”
“We’ll just have to use a chair when mum is outside and dad is at work, so they don’t catch us spying.”
However, later that evening the redhead found herself standing in the open closet, staring up at the top shelf. Her gaze was unwavering, concentrated on that top shelf and the idea of hidden presents…
“Lily, what in heaven’s name are you —”
There was a shriek and a crash and running footsteps.
“Rose? Lil? What’s going on?”
“Mummy! My wrist hurts, and, and, and…”
“What happened?” Jerold demanded, staring at the pale faces of his wife and youngest daughter.
“She was standing in the closet and the whole thing just fell on her, Jerry, I thought this thing was sturdy…”
“It is — was. It was. Lily, why were you in the closet?”
“Tuney said you had hidden our presents for Christmas on the top shelf, and I wanted to see them — My wrist hurts really bad!”
“Oh, God, Jerry, she held up her arms to protect her held from the shelves —”
Jerold Evans leaned over the debris in the closet, picking up his daughter out of the mess, and easily planted her on feet on the other side of hall. He was kneeling, eye to eye with his daughter, concern etching lines in his face.
“Let me see your wrist, baby.”
“But, daddy, it hurts!”
“Lily, you know I’m a doctor. I help people, make them better. Let me see your wrist.”
“Okay, but don’t… don’t hurt it!”
He waited until her wrist was laying in his hands before he answered.
“Baby, sometimes you have to hurt more before you can get better.”
“I said, ouch!”
“Alright, Lil, calm down. I’m done pressing on it and bending it.”
“Jerry, what’s wrong? Is it broken? Is her wrist broken? Does she need surge —”
“No, Rose. She’s fine. It’ll bruise for a while, and it’ll be sore and swollen, but no lasting damage. No broken bones or torn tissue.”
Both pairs of green eyes shed tears of relief.
James was exhausted.
It was early Monday morning and after a late night of hearing a giggling girl bouncing around with Sirius on his bed, he felt like his eyelids weighed a hundred pounds. He could usually block out his best mate pretty easily but for some reason it was particularly irritating last night.
Dragging himself off his bed and putting his uniform on in a zombie-like state, he pulled himself slowly down into the common room and instantly fell face first on the sofa. It smelled like arse, which made him laugh because so many arses have sat there before. And then he got himself into hysterics from being so exhausted and tears were falling down his cheeks until he felt a prod in his back.
“What is your problem Potter?”
He turned over on his back and looked up at Evans, his chest still rumbling with laughter, “The sofa smells like arse!”
Don’t lie this turns you on
James x Lily, Snape x Lily’s underwear
james’ ass is very hairy.
Edward Cullen: I want to kill you.
Bella:I trust you.
Edward Cullen:I want to kill you.
Edward Cullen:I want to kill you.
Edward Cullen: I want to kill you.
Doctor Who fan: Brilliant.
Edward Cullen: I want to ki—
Harry Potter Fan: AVADA KEDAVRA!
After instructing him to please take all of that back home, she dodged his questions about what she was going to do and dashed into the first place she found that served food. Sirius was behind her a little ways, but not far enough, so she sat at the first table she could reach that had an empty chair. She had gotten enough of a look at the table to see that it wasn’t empty, but she figured the lone person wouldn’t balk too much at her intrusion, especially considering as soon as Sirius was past she’d happily go find her own table.
“Could you please laugh like I just said something outrageously funny?” Despite the fact that spoke, her gaze stayed locked on the people milling about outside the walls… and it was only when Sirius appeared, peering in, that she turned her gaze to her companion….
and turned as red as her hair.
“Er… Moody….” What else was there to say? She’d just sat down at a table with a highly respected (if a bit loony) Auror, Order member, and wizard and asked him to laugh like she’d just said something funny.
What the hell were the odds that she’d pick the one place in Muggle London he’d be at? And the same exact table?
It was Muggle London!
“I’m really sorry for intruding on you…” She could still feel the heat on her face and the back of her neck, but she risked another glance at the window where Sirius had been, only to see that he wasn’t there anymore. Her ploy had worked, but unfortunately it had left her with consequences she definitely had not counted on.
Like eternal embarrassment.
“Sirius was with me, and you know how he is, and he kept asking questions about everything so I sent him home but he didn’t want to go so I ducked in here and just sat down… I wasn’t expecting you, obviously —” she paused, wincing at the insult she hadn’t meant to say. She took a deep breath, trying to remember the last time she’d been this flustered, and tried again. “Not that I mind that you’re here, of course. I just wasn’t expecting you to be in Muggle London.” After a brief hesitation, she continued on with a quiet question, “why are you here, though? It can’t be your usual dining place.”
Though she supposed if it was, that could be construed as an insult as well. But really, with her face flaming and her sitting at a table with Alastor Moody in the middle of Muggle London, she figured she shouldn’t be too worried about insulting him. What she should be worried about was him deciding her appearance was no accident and figuring she was really here to kill him.
After the arrival of Harry, it’s not long before James realizes something: he is not the center of attention anymore. And, frankly, this irks him just the teensiest bit. Because since Hogwarts he’s been used to all eyes and ears on him - he was part of the infamous Marauders, after all. Yet now he could suddenly turn into a giant rabbit slipper and his wife wouldn’t even bat an eyelid, much too consumed with their son.
There’s no doubt he loves Harry, loves the way he smiles before he decides to vomit all over daddy’s face (no, being sick is not uncontrollable to a baby, they decide whether to vomit or not. To be sick or not sick on daddy’s face? That is the question, you bloody playwright). Loves the way he likes to bite daddy’s nose, loves to latch his tiny little hands onto daddy’s hair and try and tear it off like it like a rather disgusting wig, loves to put daddy’s glasses in his (unfortunately soiled) nappies…
Perhaps he and Lily should have gotten a dog instead.
The redhead is currently battling to feed little Harry while James calls her from across the kitchen table, but it seems like their son wants to climb inside one of the kitchen cupboards rather than eat as his hands squeeze the air in direction of the cabinet of pans. Lily is rather boggled by their son’s fondness for cupboards, especially the one under the stairs.
“Lily?” James continues after no response from his wife. “Love? Lily? Lily love?”
“Hmm?” she finally answers, though it’s evident she’s using her I’m-in-the-middle-of-something-don’t-bother-me-aaaauuuuugh tone.
“I finished the crossword.” He suddenly waves the newspaper in her face, much like a gloating child completing today’s work and wanting praise from their teacher. Completed crosswords are far from what Lily wants to see - she wants to see her son eat that paste in a jar. But she humours James.
“Alright, give it here.” She takes the newspaper from her beaming husband, all the while thinking, I have two children…
“James, you haven’t done it right,” Lily comments quickly.
“What do you mean I haven’t done it right? Of course I’ve done it right.” James always does it right.
“Well, I hardly think the capital of Sweden is,” she looks closer at the crossword and frowns, “ponce.”
“Sorry, I was thinking of Sirius at the time,” he explains, unabashed.
lily hated strawberries and during her pregnancy, when she craved them, she’d always blame james for impregnating her and therefore causing the craving of her hated food.
not to mention when she had a single craving for eggplant, which resulted in a battle that ended with lily eating fried eggplant while sitting on top of a counter top in frank and alice’s flat.
lily had the bigger vanity, truth be told, when it came to her appearance. however, james was less willing to budge over stupid issues, like the brand of tooth paste and the color of underwear she chose to wear any day in particular.
lily and james fought using doodles sometimes. they’d draw something (generally something bad happening to the other person) and leave it somewhere with a note in the house. chances were it would never be found or whoever found it wouldn’t be able to tell what was happening, thereby finishing the fight before it could even start.
it was a good system, as long as the notes left with the pictures weren’t too descriptive.