She's a Snitch | James Potter | Marauders Era

EIGHTEEN

Colin Firth as Thalia's dad :)))

"Ready?" James asked the small brunette girl who was avoiding his gaze. Thalia nodded, radiating the fear of what they could be encountering back at her home in Cornwall. Her hand was clenched into a fist so tightly that crescent shapes were indented into her palms, courtesy of her nails. The pair were stood in Professor McGonagall's office, staring into the roaring flames in her fireplace that they would shortly be stepping into, having said their goodbyes to their friends. Currently, they were awaiting the Professor's return, as she had left the office to retrieve some floo powder. Noticing Thalia's tension and discomfort, James cleared his throat. "Hey," he spoke softly, "it's going to be okay, Thals. Whatever happens, I'll be here for you." James gently unfurled her fist, before realising what he did, and dropping it. As the flames reflected off her pale green eyes, he noticed - again - how pretty she was. Despite her lack of sleep the previous night, and her intense amount of crying done over the past couple of days, she still managed to look so innocent and pure in the flickering firelight. A few tears clung to her long lashes like dew to a blade of grass, and multiple strands of hair fell over her face, which she absentmindedly tucked behind her ear. The air was tense and still, as if every suit of armour, every student and teacher were all holding their breaths. Perhaps this wasn't the time to be thinking about this, but James had the strongest urge to tell her to ditch Regulus, so he could have her all to himself. Ignoring all protests from his conscience about being in love with Lily, not Thalia, he began to inhale. Maybe he wasn't in love with Lily. "You're so beautiful Thalia Scamander." He whispered, causing her to frown. Not the reaction James had been hoping for. Thalia was even more confused. James liked Lily. How could she allow herself to think that James Potter liked her? He was clearly in love with Lily Evans, and despite never hearing him go on about her first hand, Thalia knew he did, as Remus and Sirius never stopped teasing him whenever the redhead was near, despite her loathing the messy haired youth. James coughed, pulling Thalia from her thoughts. "I - I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that, I shouldn't have done that...not the right time...idiot James...insensitive...idiot James...I'm sorry..." He trailed off into a string of mumbling, which included reprimanding himself many more times.

"James." She cut him off, the first time she had spoken voluntarily to him since her detention. "It's okay, I understand - it's a confusing time for all of us right now, all of our emotions have hopped onto broomsticks and flown out the window. I get it."

"No, Thals, I don't think -"

"Mr Potter, Miss Scamander, are you both ready to leave?" Professor McGonagall strode back into her office, ruining any chances James had of explaining himself to the slightly baffled girl beside him.

"Yes, Professor." Thalia spoke, squaring her shoulders and taking a deep breath. She started to reach for James' hand, seeking comfort, but stopped herself, remembering the incident that had just occurred. The boy took a pinch of floo powder and the duo stepped into the fire. Releasing the powder into the flames, and turning them emerald, James yelled;

"Seafront Cottage!" and the pair were spiralling through various chimneys, around and around, until Thalia felt sick. All of a sudden, they came to a stop, tumbling out of the fireplace with relief. A large, open plan living room met their eyes. The floor was a soft cream carpet with an old, expensive rug in the middle, there was a large window at each end, one had a mahogany desk under it, whilst the other was bare. The curtains, along with the furniture were scarlet. With the large fireplace they had just sprung from, and the size of the vast room, James found it much resembling the Gryffindor common room. A man, with green eyes and chocolate hair, identical to Thalia's own was sat in the nearest armchair to the fire, obviously expecting their arrival, who James assumed was her Father. At the sound of their footsteps exiting the hearth, he looked up, and his pale face seemed to regain a little of the colour it had obviously lost.

"Thalia!" He smiled wanly, and wrapped his arms around her, all previous arguments forgotten. "You look ill, are you okay love? Have you eaten? How was the journey?" He spoke kindly, and James noticed lots of small habits the Father and Daughter shared. How their eyes crinkled when they smiled, how one corner of their mouths turned down slightly when they were worried, and how they both ran a hand through their hair when they were nervous, as both were at this current moment in time. Thalia snuggled into her father's chest, feeling a touch better than she did at Hogwarts. As much as she loved her friends, no one could replace her Dad. James turned away from their embrace, feeling out of place, and examined the mantelpiece above the fireplace they had just left. It was made out of very thick, old wood, and from what little the boy had seen of the house, he got the feeling it was very big, and very old, not dissimilar to his own. Along the mantelpiece were many action shots of two children, and a number of family photos through the years, of which contained a young woman with soft grey eyes and straight auburn hair, who James guessed was Thalia's Mother; a man with curly cocoa hair and pale green eyes who the messy haired boy now knew to be her Father; a boy with strawberry blonde hair and matching iris' who James presumed was Thomas - her brother; and in every photo, from when the children appeared to be three for four, all the way to about fourteen or fifteen, was hugging or holding a little girl, who at first had unruly chocolate hair, but later with silky waves and the same unmistakable green eyes she shared with her Father and brother. All photos stopped after the last family portrait, presumably when Thomas was murdered. The mention of James' own name snapped him out of his thoughts.

"So you must be James! It's nice to meet you son, thank you for being here, it means a lot." The man reached forwards and shook the boy's hand.

"It's not a problem, honestly Mr Scamander, thanks for having me." The adult waved him off,

"Don't thank me! If you need anything at all don't hesitate to ask. And call me Ben." He turned back to his daughter, a solemn expression on his thin face - "Thalia, I think it's time we see your Mother. James, perhaps you should come too." The two teens nodded, and despite the girl's hesitation, James grabbed her hand, and squeezed it gently to reassure her, as they climbed the grand country staircase, all awkwardness forgotten as James' urge to comfort his friend was much greater.