"𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞."
Sherry Opal does not like England. She was born and raised in America, more specifically in Massachusetts where Ilvermorny, her school was located. Her mother had threaten...
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"MOTHER. FATHER."
"What now?" Euphemia Potter sighed in exasperation as she noticed her son walking toward her with an exaggerated swagger once the Hogwarts Express had pulled into the station, it's breaks screeching against the metal tracks whilst it pulled to a slow and abrupt stop.
The air was frigid, the morning cold and grey, yet Euphemia and Fleamont had made their way down to Kings Cross Station no matter the weather, ready to greet their son home for Christmas. Shivering under her shawl, Euphemia had managed not to freeze under the pressure of the nippy breeze as she and her husband waited at the same spot they did every year. Just under the fifth sign on the platform, huddled close to one another.
Often she wished she could blame the snow and the frost for her grey-speckled hair, but it was clear it was coming with her age. Part of her couldn't feel it, other parts of her could always feel it. The ache in her limbs, the tiredness of her eyes. Yet she would always greet her son home, wrap him up in her arms and cuddle him tight as though he was still the same little boy she had bid goodbye years ago on his first train ride.
As the years progressed, he had become less of a boy and more of a man, though he still held an air of immaturity. The incident within the previous year with his fellow fifth-year had caused her great concern, leading to a house of raised voices later in the evening, where she had yelled until she was red in the face and James had sat there, absorbing all of it with nothing but a nod of his head. Great shame had fallen upon her for reacting that way, but it was clear in his stature afterwards that James had taken it on board.
Fleamont reassured her once James had taken himself up to his bedroom that night, wrinkled hands on her arms, thumbs drawing circles of comfort upon her soft biceps. He did the same now, arm around her and braced on her shoulder even as James came marching off the train, his friends in tow.
"Don't fret, love, perhaps that walk means something different." Fleamont murmured to her as they watched their son approach, his suitcase clutched in his hand tightly. That walk meant that James was very happy, and very cocky and comfortable. "Maybe he's finally with Lily!"
"Oh, she's such a sweet girl." Euphemia nodded and cupped her hands together, blowing warm hair into it as they watched James and his friends all approach them. Sirius waved at the Potter parents who had welcomed him to their home when he had shown up on their doorstep. "Oh, he seems to be happier about his hair."
"Well, hopefully that girl has stayed away from them this year," Fleamont said, nodding his head.
"Monty," Euphemia scolded softly and sent him a glare paired with narrowed eyes, crows feet at the corners as she watched him carefully. He frowned and apologised softly. "What the boys did was terrible. We spoke to them about it. The girl was just upset! Understandably so."
