fundamentals of love ; james sirius potter

prolouge

The first time Ellie Peirce hears about James Potter is when she's eight and is at her nonna's house with all her cousins.

Siobhan and Jimmy are the oldest, Siobhan's older than Jimmy by two years though it never feels like it. They're complete opposites and it always fascinates Ellie. Siobhan is loud while Jimmy's quiet. Siobhan loves mornings while Jimmy stays up till dawn every night. Siobhan's always dreaming while Jimmy just shakes his head at any outrageous idea. Yet, when they play quidditch. They let it consume them and they've both dedicated their lives to the sport and you can tell they're siblings because they both get this glint in their eye and a secret smile as they glance at the other.

Then there's Hugh who's four and, well, there's not much to say about a four-year-old. He's started forming proper sentences, learning to ride a bike with training wheels and is starting pre-school soon. It's not anything important but she likes Hugh, and when they're older she thinks she'll take care of him like Vonnie always takes care of her.

It leaves Ellie in the middle of four grandchildren and Jimmy has never been able to fit the middle child mould because there's something about him she can never place.

"I got Harry Potter," Siobhan sighs, pulling out the card that she's already gotten way too many times. "Every damn time."

She looks up at the person she idolizes and hands her own Shackelbolt card. "Do you have this one, Vonnie?"

She shakes her head and takes it with a smile. "Do you wanna know something?"

Always. Ellie nods.

"His's oldest son is your age," she says, then gives a playful smile. "My dad's friend with Harry and I've seen James before. Maybe when you guys get to Hogwarts, you'll manage to steal his heart."

James Potter. What a nice name.

The first time Ellie Peirce meets James Potter is when she's eleven and it's her first transfiguration class.

"Do you go by Angelina," Professor McGonagall asks.

She shakes her head, "It's my nonna's name," she says, thinking of the peppered-haired witch. "My family doesn't call her that though. She goes by Lina and Ang. So technically I could be called Angelina. But, it's dreadfully long. Isn't it? My great-grandma Sally called me Ellie once when I was little, and my nonna and dad loved it. But my aunt Meg calls me Elle as she thinks it's more refined," she's rambling because she's nervous. "Ellie. Ellie is good."

Now she's embarrassed and she's sinking into her seat, she just misses home so much already and, though her dad's a Gryffindor. She's terrified of all of them because they're all staring at her and they all seem so effortlessly cool, and she knows she could spend her entire life trying to be like them yet always falling short.

A pair of hazel eyes meet her. It's a boy with messy dark hair and an easy-going smile, he's turning to McGonagall before she can even register him. "My name's James," he says, and the whole class seems to register that this guy is Harry Potter's son. "It's my grandpa's name, but I go by James. If you were wondering."

Nobody was wondering, she thinks to herself. But she looks down and starts drawing in the margins of her notebook already excited for Christmas break and being back home.

The first time James Potter talks to her is when she's fourteen.

She sits on the infirmary bed and cradles her arm. Poppy's stopped the bleeding but hasn't fixed the ache yet and Ellie's great at many things, but handling pain? It's definitely not on the very long list.