She's a Snitch | James Potter | Marauders Era

TWENTY-EIGHT

Thalia's eyes fluttered open and she stretched her arms out. Just as she could feel all of the tension in her muscles loosening, she froze. Her breathing quickened but all she could do was lie there, in bed, her mind on overdrive. The reason? She could smell bacon. Finally coming to her senses, she threw the duvet off her body and grabbed a hoodie, sliding across the floor in her fluffy socks. The stairs creaked and rumbled as she sprinted down them and finally got to the kitchen. Her dad was stood in a Mrs Claus apron, frying bacon off in the pan whilst her mother was humming along to the christmas songs on the radio and ironing a santa hat. Thalia's eyes were glued to the bacon sizzling away in the pan when she finally realised: her mum was ironing a santa hat.

"Maman..." she started and both of her parents whipped around to beam at her,

"Natalia! Joyeux Noël!" Camille shouted gleefully and stood to embrace her daughter.

"Merci, Maman but-"

"Bacon, Lala?" her dad interrupted her and any questions she was going to ask lost their relevance as she sat down and watched eagerly as a plate of bacon was placed in front of her.

As soon as Thalia swallowed her final mouthful of her breakfast, her Grandfather walked into the kitchen. The girl grinned at Grandpa Scamander with her chipmunk cheeks as her mother passed him a cup of tea.

"Good morning, my well-mannered and ladylike Granddaughter." he smiled at Thalia as she swallowed her bacon and gave him a more dignified smile.

"Morning, Grandpa. Merry Christmas!"

"And yourself sweetheart." He replied, winking and gesturing to the living room across the hallway, to let her know, presents were there and waiting, which she immediately jumped up and ran to, as she did every year like clockwork.

****

Meters of shiny wrapping paper later, christmas dinner was eaten, and mince pies were being warmed by the fire, whilst Thalia, her Mother, Father and Grandfather were slightly drunkenly singing to whichever witch was warbling on the radio. With a pang, she remembered how, every other year, Thomas had jumped up and sang like Whitney Houston, to all the songs he knew and many that he didn't. Tears sprang to her eyes, as she fondly remembered past Christmases, however she was feeling grateful for almost 16 years she got to spend with him, making her proud how she dealt with her grief.

A fat brown owl swooped into the room, and landed on the coffee table, sending eggnog and nuts flying in all directions. Recognising the owl almost immediately by the festive bow stuck to its leg (James won the argument with Eloise about it being animal cruelty), Thalia's mood brightened and she rushed towards it. Letting the effects of eggnog override her apprehensions towards James, she rushed to remove the parcel from the owl's grasp and fed it a tiny bit of her reindeer shaped biscuit - she specifically picked it from the tray and definitely not because it looked like Prongs...

Carrying the present to the living room, ignoring the confused looks from her father and the knowing glance exchanged between her mother and grandfather and sitting cross-legged on her armchair, she ripped off the paper excitedly. Thalia expected something casual like Bertie Botts or a book on Quidditch so she was beyond shocked to be greeted by a beautiful and undoubtedly expensive wetsuit. It was long-sleeved and full-length, a pale orange in colour, fading into pink like a sunset and it was patterned with waves around the bottom with pale green leaves dotted around, the exact same shade as her eyes. Thalia saw a note was folded alongside the suit and she picked it up: 'part two of my marvellous present was too big to fit in the box, check outside the door.'

Thalia smirked at James' messy scrawl and re-folded the note, slipping it into her dressing gown pocket she stood from her chair and made her way out of the door. She stepped out onto her front porch and scanned her surroundings. Other than the winter sun glittering against the ocean waves slamming onto the sand and the exquisite outdoor furniture set out to face the horizon, there was really nothing to see. And then she saw the shining surfboard leaning against the wall. Thalia gasped, her hands raising to her mouth and her eyes shining with tears as she took in the design on the front. How did James remember? How did he get it? How wasn't he dead?

To explain, on the night that Thomas died, he had gone surfing with some of his friends at a beach near Brighton when the Death Eaters arrived, abducting Thomas, taking him back to his house and eventually killing him. His surfboard was never been recovered from the seas and yet, somehow there it was, in front of her house gifted to her by none other than James Potter. She ran her hand over the intricate designs of the board and the words engraved at the top. The board was custom made for Thomas' birthday by none other than Fiona Paddle, one of the most famous surfers in history who just happened to be a witch with a strange liking for magical creatures. Well, at least that's how Thalia's grandpa claimed to have known her, both Thomas and Thalia figured out almost immediately that Fiona had a larger liking for Newt Scamander than she did his creatures and she harboured a rather grand crush on the older magizoologist.

The words inscribed on the board read: Dear Thomas, I heard you could surf...prove it.

Thalia and Thomas' grandpa often said that Fiona was a strange soul and didn't seem surprised by the odd message. Thalia let out a soft laugh as she reread the message and wiped her cheeks to rid them of the tears. She thought back to how she had treated James: not letting him explain about the date; being off with him for the rest of the term. And yet, he still went out of his way to get her a present...an incredibly meaningful present. Regret filled her and sat down in a chair, her head falling into her hands. At that moment, Thalia knew one thing - she needed to apologise to James...and get him a present.