1975

"Uh, James?"

"Yeah?"

"What exactly is the plan here?"

Abruptly, James Potter froze. The two boys trailing uneasily behind screeched their shoes upon the cracking, yellowed sidewalk. Weeds threaded the crevices, sprightly dandelions peeking upwards. While Remus Lupin kept his distance, figuring a mishap was bound to happen, Peter Pettigrew was not so lucky. Dumbly, the boy crashed into his friend, springing backwards with a surprised grunt. James twisted on his heel and outstretched his arms to stabilize the boy.

James cracked a smirk, but it wasn't self-assured like he usually wore. It was uneasy, a little bit harebrained.

A low whistle of a groan escaped Remus. "You don't have one do you?"

"No! Just listen—" James waved his hands frantically, assuredly.

"Unbelievable!"

In fact, James did have a plan. And it was very extensive. Tirelessly, he crafted it. Because he found it strange Sirius seemed as light as air, gliding through lush breezes like wispy tendrils on a willow. That burden roughly placed upon his shoulders was skewed, sagging off. The more Sirius retold his night, the brighter he seemed. A soft gaze washed him in a delicate glow. Who could've done this?

And a muggle at that! Sirius was reluctant with the words, stuck in his throat like thick honey. Perhaps it really was painful? Those words singed his tongue. Yet, James was determined. With the way he spoke about her, she must've been a talented thief. James wrangled together his remaining friends, reluctant and otherwise, and set off.

The objective? Uncover whoever stole Sirius Black's heart.

High in the clutches of a towering tree, a crow's caw rained down. Shrill, darkly antiquated. Passing muggle vehicles (some James found very fascinating) careened down the busy stretch of road lining the restaurant. He found it odd, how he never noticed this diner until now. Especially with how obvious it stood. Certainly, ostentatious. Blue—possibly teal . . . he's not well-versed with colors—and white stripped awning, and it wrapped around the smooth chromatic exterior.

Shrubbery was sparse but glaring. Below the windowsills, was a line of colorful flowers, which James knew to be snapdragons. How did he know? He found the name funny. The other arrays—well, those remained a mystery. Herbology really wasn't his forte. To his left, where the crows mocked, stood that leering tree. Branches appeared frizzled with static and tattered foliage gracefully danced in the gentle breeze. There was a scent; it was sweet.

Truly, besides the garish colors of blue and the blinding mirrored exterior, the aroma enraptured James. Because it was familiar, yet he didn't know how. White flowers dotted every branch and petals littered the grassy patches in a snowy wasteland. Obviously, the scent was floral, but also citrusy, like a freshly sliced lime. Somewhere those memories await exhumation.

"If you'd let me get a word in—"

As if by divine interference or perfect comedic timing, the diner door slammed open, welcoming bells screeching haphazardly. The three startled (James particularly). A tall man, a huge, towering man—seriously, they hadn't seen someone so big—loomed in the threshold. Dark furrowed brows, thin lips buried underneath an unkempt beard, grease stains on a worn-out apron, and brandishing a spatula like a weapon.

James backed behind Remus.

"Either get inside or get lost," the man grunted, and James's eyes gravitated to the veins bulging on the guy's arms—he gulped. "No loitering."

The three shared a frightened glance, not responding. He acted like the guard. The doleful, nameless figure charged with sentry. This, he's never encountered (save for those bars they'd attempted entrance, but he'd rather not bring that up). James wondered if they'd gotten the address wrong. Were all muggle places like this?

Rolling his eyes, the man went to speak again when a new voice interrupted.

"Oh, Tom! Don't be so rude!"

    A girl, almost as tall as the man, appeared behind him and slapped his arm. Though it was lighthearted, James noticed. She gave the three each bright smiles. "I apologize for him. He hasn't had any sugar today—blood sugar is very low. Gets quite cranky." She playfully knocked the man aside, beckoning them inside. "Anyway, come in. Come in!"

     Seeing that the scary man was now brooding safely behind the woman, James's confidence sparked: he stepped forward with a giddy laugh. "I'd be delighted!"

Yes, his plan was running smoothly. Things would align in his favor, as they normally did.

Harshly, Remus sent a jab into his side, causing him to wince slightly. In retaliation, James kicked the boy's ankle. First impressions were cruxes of fate. The coiled string could be cut if done poorly. Or, he could be pulled taut, dragged down a forsaken avenue.

The girl smiled at this small interaction. She pulled on his string.

Upon entrance, James was immersed in an unfamiliar environment. He could only describe it as overstimulation. A jukebox, antique like he'd seen in the movies, sung oldies in the corner by the door. The interior was painted in the same blue, bright as ever, but the booths? Pink. His eyebrows rose. Pastel pink was the accent color, and it somehow worked. Every wall was cramped with picture frames and knickknacks. Anything, James deduced (he saw boat oars, Merlin . . . ).

Behind him, Remus and Peter followed, and he knew they ogled at the kitschy decor. Every square inch was covered. He'd never seen a muggle establishment quite like it. They were the only ones inside. James liked to think he had a vague idea why.

"Like what you see?"

The girl materialized out of thin air. James startled; he tried to hide it by chuckling. "Uh, yeah," he said, rubbing his neck. His eyes tracked the interior. "It's definitely . . . a lot."

"I like it," chimed Peter, smiling.

The girl beamed, and James noticed a gap betwixt her front teeth. "Love to hear it! Some walk out, honest. I'm never offended, but they never even tried the pie," she laughed, then blushed. "Oh, anyway. If you'd follow me."

James shared a glance with his friends before following the girl. He found it humorous how she didn't bother to wait and see if they'd followed; she went about with merriment. They stopped at a booth in the middle section of the restaurant. The sweeping window was covered halfway by dusty blinds, yet rays of sun poked through. James could feel the warmth on the cushion as he slid to the end.

As Peter chose the side opposite him, Remus, naturally, shoved in next to James. He acted as the blockade in case he had any deceptive plans to enact. Truly, who knew the inner machinations of James Potter.

"Right!" The girl clapped her hands once they'd seated themselves. "Is there anything I can get you? Drinks? In case you didn't know, our milkshakes are to die for!" She dragged out 'die' in an exaggerated manner. "We did win an award for them as well. But we've got fizzy drinks, squash . . . Oh, and water!"

If there was one thing James had gathered from this girl, it's that she had a proclivity for rambling. He narrowed his eyes at her, scanning for a name-tag, but she wore none. She's a mystery.

"Um, I'd like a milkshake," said Peter; he couldn't look her in the eyes.

She nodded, jotted down in her notepad, and looked to Remus.

"I'll do fine with a water, thank you," he replied.

"Nah," James cut in, slinging an arm around the boy. "He'll have a milkshake too. Milkshakes all around! We gotta try 'em if they're award worthy."

Seeing the girl light up like the blooming haze of sunlight to his right was endearing.

"Yes! I assure you they're amazing, and I am not biased," she winked, then she closed her notepad. "I'll bring those out in a jiffy!"

Once she turned on her heel and skipped—yes, skipped, James hadn't seen anyone do that either (besides Sirius when he was mocking them)—behind the counter, Remus rounded on him. Scowling, he shoved James's arm off. "Get off me, you arse!"

The action only caused James to smirk. "What's got your knickers in an uproar, Moony?"

"Do you even know what she looks like?"

James scoffed. "Of course, I know what she looks like."

Both Remus and Peter rose dubious brows.

"Then go on."

"Well," starts James, feeling a little flustered all the sudden. Did they have to put him on the spot? He recalled Sirius's apt description of the girl who enamored him. "She's pretty, very pretty according to Sirius. Brown hair. Um, tall? Yes, tall and brunette!"

"That's it?" Asked Peter.

He wanted to mention how difficult it was to pry the information from Sirius, but he refrains. That night, it was bad. His walls stood high and mighty, spikes protruding from the crevices and arrows ready to fire at will. Still, James climbed. No wall is unscalable. When he reached the top, he was greeted by the wistful longing of childish adoration. A treasured sight. What he has is what was given to him.

They had to scour the phone book for an address. And even then it was confusing. There were so many muggle Yates.

"Yes, that's it," responded James, rolling his eyes.

Remus bristled with annoyance. "In case you haven't noticed, everyone here is tall and brunette!"

     And well, he'd be correct. Shaking his head in disbelief, James pivoted towards the counter. The chromatic surface twinkled under the hanging lamps, and there was a rectangular window showcasing the kitchen behind it. Unfortunately, of everyone that milled around busily, all of them were tall with brown hair. Seriously, every one.

     "Shit."

     Peter snickered while Remus sighed, exasperation clinging to every fiber. "Godric," he pinched his nose. "Tell me you at least know her name?"

     "I'm not an idiot—"

     "I beg to differ."

     "—Of course, I know her name. It's Natalie."

     "Here we are!" They all turned to their waitress as she appeared. Three glasses were expertly pressed together in a triangle grip. She set them down and slid each one across the surface. "Three world famous chocolate milkshakes! World famous might be a tad bit exaggerated, but still fantastic!"

     She wiped her hands on her blue apron, then she seemed to remember a previous train of thought. "Oh, by the way, my name's Natalie!" James glanced at the name-tag on her chest; it was handwritten in scratchy penmanship with a gold star to the side. "I forgot to put my name-tag on earlier," she admitted sheepishly. "We usually don't get customers at this hour since our regulars come at five. Anyway, yeah, my name is Natalie."

     Victory was imminent. James locked eyes with Remus, lips pulling upwards into a smile teeming with mischief. Pieces always fell into place.

     i. Step One: Find Natalie Yates. Complete.

     "Hope you enjoy!" Natalie beamed. With the knowledge he now acquired, he understood Sirius's blushed demeanor. She was . . . kind. Irrevocably so. Kinder than he's known strangers to be, muggles to be. Not that they were mean spirited, of course, despite what so called 'blood purists' would say. His gaze shifted to Peter, then to Remus, watching their reactions to this moment. "Oh, and just flag me down if you need anything else."

     Snapping from his thoughts, James leaned around his friend. "Actually," he started, "there is one—"

     Underneath the table, Remus jutted out his leg and slammed it into James. He yelped, unable to ask the penultimate question.

     "No, no. We're good!" Remus bared his teeth in an awkward smile, using his right arm to slap away James's attempts at poking him. Across the table, Peter faced the window to hide his mirth. "Thank you!"

     Similarly to before, Natalie was unfazed. She nodded, brushing down the folds in her uniform. Her ponytail was high atop her head, and the ends were flipped upwards, curled. Lily wore her hair like that sometimes. She spun on her heel and ventured behind the counter, instantly striking up conversation with an identical girl.

     Once she was out of earshot, James rounded on Lupin. "What the hell was that for?"

     This is their desideratum! They were so eager, at least he thinks, to venture down this promenade with him. His intricately carved slab of intention was intact. She was right there! And Remus had the nerve to shoo her off?

     "And what were you going to say?" Remus challenged. He grabbed the fluted stem of the milkshake and brought the pink stripped straw to his lips (these muggles certainly loved a theme!).

     "I was gonna ask about Sirius! You know, like we came here for!"

     "No."

     James faltered. "What d'you mean 'no'?"

     "I mean, you're going to scare her off."

     Oh, now that was really offensive. "Excuse me? I'll have you know—"

     And then, perhaps by Peter's psychic intervention, a small child bounded over to their table. All conversation ceased. James's features softened. The little boy must've been around six by his chubby cheeks and wide-eyed stare, yet he was unusually tall. A golden crown of hair hung a little long, resting on his shoulders. He wore a green shirt with red sleeves, and his stubby child fingers placed a piece of paper beside Remus. Drops of dew from the cold glass seeped into it.

     They watched in silence as the boy put a green crayon (maybe his favorite color was green?) atop the paper and eyed Remus expectantly. "Your name," he blurted. "Put it there."

No niceties, no exaggerated excitement—this kid knows what he wants. He's assertive, a good quality to own at such a young age. James tilted his head, softly smiling. Bits of red bespectacled the boy's lips, on the outer corners, and he had similar stains donning his attire. He must've enjoyed a delicious meal.

     "Um . . ." It was clear Remus was hopeless handling the sudden persistence of children. James nudged him, inclining his head down at the paper. You do anything a child asks. You do anything to see a child smile, to laugh.

     "You don't have a name?" The boy questioned, and he seemed in disbelief.

     "No, I have a name," responded Remus a bit indignantly. "You just want me to put it there—on your . . . drawing?"

      James couldn't help his snort at Remus's inability to oblige the kid.

     "Are you okay, mister?" The boy raised a brow. "Your ears might be broken."

     Peter coughed into his milkshake.

     "Here," James leaned over Remus and slid the picture to his side. "I'll sign it."

     When the boy's picture was in view, James wasn't quite sure what he was looking at. Colorful scribbles in every color adorned shakily drawn stick figures, all disproportionate and gangly. There were three, each smiling with dotted eyes. Although, one had 'angry' eyebrows. The foreground . . . well, James liked to think he had a talent for deducing children's drawings, except this seemed well beyond his expertise. Perhaps it's abstract?

A giant rectangular box spanned across the sheet, and it had squiggles and stickers covering it. He tilted his head—a building? There's an angular, repeating pattern that could be interpreted as windows. In front of the oblong building, were the three figures. Directly leftward lay a mess of brown and green, which James recognized to be a tree. There was nothing distinctly unique about the drawing; it's standard for someone the boy's age, yet it was incredibly fascinating.

And he loved it.

Grinning, James signed his name in elegant script. He did it in the corner like he'd seen on the paintings at Hogwarts. He did it proudly; he's honored.

The kid watched him intently. His little nose was scrunched in thought, the freckles outlining his cheeks speckling in the sunlight. He didn't appear eager, but James could see his fingers tapping in anticipation.

He slid it towards Peter, gazing at the kid. "I think," James paused, wanting to get a reaction, "this is the best painting I have ever seen."

For a moment, the kid ignited. He beamed haughtily, and he gave one big jump in excitement. Whatever assertion he paraded vanished. Deep within, he was just a kid, one like everyone else. Thrilled by simplicities.

"The best? Really?" He might burst.

     Despite being perturbed earlier, Remus cracked a smile.

     "Yes, absolutely." James grabbed his slightly melted milkshake and took a sip. His eyes widened. Indeed, these were award worthy. Without a doubt, he'd return for these.

     "Your turn," announced Peter, and he slid the paper across the table to Remus. His was directly below James, smaller and more concise.

     "Oh, my goodness! Lonnie!"

     A familiar voice echoed in alarm. James followed Peter's line of sight to Natalie rushing from the counter. Her pinned ponytail swished in an entrancing manner. "I am so sorry," she gushed, slinging an arm around the boy. "He-he just slips by—he's a sneaky one. Aren't you, trouble?"

     The boy . . . Lonnie, giggled and grabbed at her arm. "I showed my drawing! He said he liked it!"

     Natalie's blush deepened. Her eyes traveled to the paper in front of Remus then to where the boy pointed at James. Adoration and joy softened her worried features. "Did he now?" She asked, but her gaze was solely on them.

     James nodded. "Had to put my name on such a magnificent piece."

     Keeping her arm around Lonnie, she reached for the paper. He watched as her eyes traveled to the three distinct signatures, and she seemed genuinely sweetened by the action. When Natalie looked up, she laughed. Melodiously, shrilly.

     "You guys might be the first," said Natalie, and James arched a brow. Oldies still vaguely floated around the interior. "Not everyone likes being bothered, which I totally understand. But some people can be . . . harsh." Her grip tightened around Lonnie, and he grabbed at her free hand. "Oh, I guess I should explain. He's my baby cousin. Turned five recently."

     Lonnie held up five fingers.

     "Wow!" James laughed. "You're so old! Maybe older than me."

     The boy scrunched his nose in distaste, and he buried his face in Natalie's uniform. Clearly, he did not like being compared (should James be offended?)

     "Is this a family diner?" Asked Remus. It was the first thing he'd said in a long while, and he looked eager to know.

     "Yes! My dad opened it ages ago with my mum," explained Natalie. She jutted her thumb in an unspecific direction, possibly towards the kitchen where people crowded. "It's family tradition now. Only one who isn't related is Justine—she's working the register."

     They all glanced at this Justine, and James chuckled. She was the splitting image of Natalie except with chunky curls wrangled into a bun. Noticing the sharp contact, the girl looked over in confusion; she pointed at herself and mouthed incoherently.

     "Never-mind her," Natalie waved. "How were the milkshakes? Were they good? I do hope so."

     "Godric, they were so good," mumbled Peter. He'd finished his, down to every last drop. They all nodded in agreement.

     She tilted her head. "'Godric'? How fascinating!"

     "Oh, er, Peter's a weird one," stuttered James. Really, how could they explain such a strange word? "Don't mind him."

     "I like weird," Natalie admitted. She leaned down to the boy's level. "Lonnie's weird."

     James couldn't stop his smile at Natalie reaching down to tickle her cousin's sides. His giggles were infectious. Slightly grating, like scraping balloons and forks scratching ceramic.

"Lee, stop!" Lonnie gasped, dragging out each syllable. His drawing crinkled in his grip.

Her gentleness worried James. What if she was fragile, like a dried flower? Sirius would crumble her. She'd dissolve. There is something so inherently tragic about this scenario. A muggle and pure-blood—sounds like the beginnings of a bad joke. He shouldn't like to hear the punchline.

"Say," started Natalie. Her cousin clung to her leg. "What're your names? I apologize if I'm bothering you, it's just . . . you're all so lovely. I'd very much like to get to know you, if that's alright?"

The tenderness tightened his stomach into knots.

"Peter."

"Lovely name. Peters are nice."

Remus cleared his throat. He glanced quickly at her then away. "Remus."

"That's silly," muttered Lonnie, peeking between their waitress's legs.

Natalie shoved a hand into her cousin's face. "Oh, hush! I think it's splendid! I'm not sure I've ever had the pleasure of meeting a Remus. I'm honored."

Lupin's ears burned.

"And I'm James. Arguably the most important name."

"Maybe in your dreams," scoffed Peter.

James sent a glare at his friend.

"So you're Peter," Natalie pointed at him, and Lonnie copied the movement. "You're Remus—gosh, I love it. And you're James, The Most Important and Most Humble."

"Spot on!" He grinned.

"I'd introduce my family, but I don't want to scare you off. Not like that other boy. Oh, I still feel bad."

All the bones in James's body snapped to attention. Surely she didn't mean . . . could it be this easy? Although, how could he approach this topic without sounding like a total cad?

"Other boy?" He hoped it didn't come across as nosey, even if he was definitely eager.

"Oh, yes! Not that long ago!" Shocking everyone, especially Peter who flushed a deep crimson, Natalie slid into the free space at their table. Her cousin followed, seemingly to cling to her like an animal. "I think it was around closing when this boy walks in totally soaked to the bone! He looked horrible! N-not in a bad way! Er, like he'd been through a rough night. Anyway, he just needed a phone, but my mum freaked. I think we scared him off. Most people are."

Quite the opposite. Sirius gushed about the 'weird muggle family' he'd encountered. James could see why.

"Did he have long, greasy hair?"

"What about wet dog? Did he smell like that?"

Arching a brow, Natalie gazed at all of them. "I take it you know him?"

"Sirius Black?"

Her eyes lit up. "You really do?"

"Unfortunately," muttered Remus.

"Oh, this is amazing!" She laughed.

ii. Step Two: Ask about Sirius. Complete.

"See, I wanted his number, but I knew it was not appropriate," admitted Natalie, and her revelation has their eyes widening. She wanted Sirius's number?

Lonnie perked up. "Who's S-sir—cereal?"

"Sirius," she corrected.

"I don't like him."

James snorted.

"Shh, you didn't meet him." Natalie rolled her eyes, and she lightly nudged her cousin. "You were asleep."

"You know," started James, only a little unsure. "I have Sirius's number."

Quickly, Remus glanced at him with a frantic sort of expression. The concern was understood. What good could come from this potential relationship? Whatever came their way, James was sure they could defeat it. Sirius was one of the most resilient people he'd ever met and Natalie had all the makings of independence and strength. Two peas in a pod. Two peas in separate pods more like.

"If it's not too forward, may I have it?"

"Of course!" Responded James then he realized he lacked the materials. "Er, you don't happen to have a pen and paper?"

A pen and notepad was in his hands before he could blink. Except, James realized, the number Sirius did have was on a hidden phone he kept locked in a spelled compartment. The thing was unable to be cracked by anyone other than him, but James still worried. What if his mother overheard a conversation between them? Not only would Sirius face terrible consequences, but poor Natalie would as well.

James was caught in a conundrum. Who was he to deny his friend's happiness? This was his duty as the best friend and self-proclaimed wingman. He'll make Sirius promise not to ever call Natalie in his house. Swear on sacred things if he must.

Expelling a breath, James slid the notepad towards Natalie. Sunlight illuminated the drying ink. He hoped he wouldn't regret this.

Natalie beamed, and it rivaled the sun. "Thank you so much! I really didn't think I'd ever get a chance to speak to him again, but you've saved me. How could I ever repay you?"

"No need," waved James. "Just doing our parts."

"Might we have the check?" Remus cut the conversation.

Briefly, disappointment flashed across her face. It was gone as soon as it came. "Nonsense. It's on the house."

"What? Are you sure?"

"I'm afraid I must insist," smiled Natalie. She gently wrapped her cousin in her arms and slid from the booth. Lonnie laid his head on her shoulder. "Consider it repayment."

"That's very kind," said Remus earnestly. They all nodded. "Thank you."

"Really, it's my pleasure." She began rocking side to side for her cousin. "You're all so lovely. And I apologize if I was too forward. Tina says I'm a bit much sometimes . . ."

"Oh, please," James lightly scoffed. "If anything we're the ones who were too 'forward.' Don't apologize."

Natalie's natural redness deepened. "Well, I like boldness."

Then you'll love Sirius, he thought.

"You guys enjoy the rest of your day, and I really hope to see you again," she said. "I love making new friends."

"I know I'll be back for these milkshakes," chimed Peter, grinning loosely.

"You won't get rid of us." The grin James beamed was halfhearted by uneasiness.

"Good. Maybe you could bring Sirius around?"

Another sharp pang in James's chest. He couldn't help this heavy bout of guilt. This was forbidden in their world, and she's so unaware and innocent.

Still, James nodded. "Yeah, of course!"

Remus remained quiet.

"Fantastic! Thanks a bunch for the digits," she expressed her gratitude frequently. "I'll be seeing you."

The three all made equal gestures of acknowledgment. Natalie beamed one last glorious smile before she spun on her heel, ponytail swishing, and strolled to the kitchen. She had a pep in her step. Across her shoulder, Lonnie picked up his head and waved.

James waved back. He was an odd kid.

Walking from the comforting, warm interior oozing with homeyness and delight, and into the frigidity of extinguishing autumn was a wake up call. The splash of water in early mornings. What had he just done?

"Hey, um, give me a moment," said Remus suddenly. He stopped by the steps (he better move before that scary guy returned). "I just have a question. I'll be quick."

Not fully tuned in, James waved his hand. The welcoming bells clinked as his friend went back inside, and James continued down the venerable promenade. That familiar scent hit his nose again as he came closer to the towering tree shrouded in hazy sunlight. He froze. The tree. James turned back to the diner and to Peter standing by the door kicking loose rocks. Lonnie's drawing—it was them.

He almost wanted to kick himself for not realizing it, until he remembered how abstract it was. Inside that diner was a picture of him and his friends with their signatures. They were a part of that building now, forever entwined. He hoped he wasn't the one with 'angry eyebrows.'

Pearlescent petals glimmered in fading sunlight, a peaceful orange glow. Next time, he'll ask Natalie what species it was. Next time. No, what was he saying? This was a dangerous game they're playing. He initially thought it was curiosity. A juvenile joke to meddle in his best friend's life, but he didn't grasp how serious this could be. He knew it was an overreaction. But he cannot help the worry. The Noble House of Black . . . they didn't take kindly to outsiders.

James turned back to the diner, squinting at the chromatic exterior. It's clunky, plucky, but he adored it. He hoped every diner was like this one, yet he also didn't. The magic would dissipate. He watched as Remus exited with his brows heavily furrowed. He seemed spooked, and he said something to Peter. What was shared, James never knew.

A white petal landed on his shoulder. He plucked it, the velvety texture felt odd under his fingertips. Though it was not dried, just unfortunately separated, it crushed easily in his grip.

James Potter hoped above all else that this would not be Natalie Yates' undoing.

📍 Teddy's Corner ;

might be my fav chapter i've
ever written. i genuinely adore
the energy in it. it's so cozy.
and there's so many hidden
details in it. tehe.

rip natalie she was a real one.
she's everything to me.

also, i'm not kidding abt the
hidden details. if u care, i'd
suggest rereading sirius's
flashback. i debated explaining
my intentions but im not. it
ruins it. they're nothing too
serious, more thematic.
so many serious themes in
this one.

BABY LONNIE!!!!!
guys he's so cute but really
annoying. so unfortunate he
didn't grow out of that. his
interactions with everyone
had me giggling and kicking
my feet. this is an instance of
my book writing itself bc i
had no intention of including
him, until i began editing.
2.5k to 5k... i had a blast.

writing james in this was
really fun. this is how i
characterize him in my fic.
his inner turmoil regarding
natalie and sirius is very
important (obvs).

hogwarts next chap!!!!

also, DOUBLE UPDATE!!!!
thought it could never be done
but i grinded hard.

anyway, love to hear ur
thoughts <3 !!!

ฅʕ•ᴥ• ʔฅ
© TEDDY 2024