POTTER, James Sirius
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POTTER, James Sirius

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Post by James S Potter Wed Apr 16, 2014 12:37 am

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FULL NAME: James Sirius Potter

James (JAY-ms) ~ Hebrew origin: means “he who supplants.” In the Wizarding World, James is also the name of this particular James’s grandfather, the man who died for his son, ultimately precipitating the end of the First Wizarding War.

Sirius (SIRI-us) ~ Greek origin: means “glowing” or “scorcher.” It is the brightest star in the night sky from the constellation Canis Major. Like his first name, James’s middle name is inherited from his grandfather’s best friend and his father’s godfather who was framed for the murder of James and Lily Potter.

Potter (POT-ter) ~ English origin: an occupational surname meaning “maker of pots.” The surname of an old Wizarding family descended from Ignotus Peverell – the keeper of the Cloak of Invisibility.

AGE&BIRTHDAY&SIGNS: Twenty-Four | b. July 31st 2003

Sun Sign
Element: Fire
Quality: Fixed
Ruling House: Fifth
Ruling Planet: The Sun

Chinese Astrology
Fixed Season: Summer
Fixed Direction: South
Fixed Element: Fire
Associated Sun Sign: Cancer

Mayan Sign
Mayan Name: Muluc
Direction: East
Qualities: Emotional and Imaginative

Ruling Planet: Neptune
Colour: Green
Gemstone: Moonstone
Qualities: Philosophical, Spiritual


BLOOD TYPE: Half-Blood

Formerly Order of the Phoenix
Formerly Potter’s Army

The Potter Family
The Weasley Family
The Longbottom Family

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Gryffindor House
Gryffindor Quidditch Team

The Falmouth Falcons Quidditch Team
The Falmouth Falcons First Team
The Falmouth Falcons Head Coach
The Falmouth Falcons Coaching Squad
The Falmouth Falcons Fans

The Chudley Cannons Quidditch Team
The Quidditch Association
The British and Irish Quidditch League
The English International Quidditch Team

Arsenal Football Club
Swindon Town Football Club
The Football Association
The Premier League
League One
The English International Quidditch Team
The FIFA World Cup

The British Ministry of Magic
The Department of Mysteries
The Research Unit



Core Classes:
- Astronomy –Exceeds Expectations
- Charms – Exceeds Expectations
- Defence Against the Dark Arts – Outstanding
- Herbology – Exceeds Expectations
- History of Magic – Dreadful
- Potions – Outstanding
- Transfiguration – Outstanding

- Study of Ancient Runes – Exceeds Expectations
- Care of Magical Creatures – Acceptable

Core Classes:
- Astronomy –Oustanding
- Charms – Exceeds Expectations
- Defence Against the Dark Arts – Outstanding
- Herbology – Exceeds Expectations
- Potions – Outstanding
- Transfiguration – Outstanding

- Study of Ancient Runes – Outstanding
- Care of Magical Creatures – Exceeds Expectations

Former Seeker for the Falmouth Falcons
Researcher in the Department of Mysteries, British Ministry of Magic

First Wand
Cypress: There are conflicting assessment about Cypress wood wands. Some sources attest that the wands are associated with the Greek God of the Underworld, Hades, and thus have subtle skills within Transfiguration and, more certainly, the Dark Arts. However, the medieval wandmaker, Geraint Ollivander, argued that they are associated with nobility, or rather, those who will die and a heroic death. Wands of the cypress are said to find their soul mates amongst the brave, bold and self-sacrificing and those who are unafraid to confront the shadows in their own and others’ natures. A known wielder of the wand close to the Potter family is Remus Lupin. His son, Theodore, now has the wand.

Phoenix Feather: These wands are capable of the greatest range of magic. They show initiative, acting of their own accord sometimes – a quality that isn’t coveted by those who wield them. However, they are also the pickiest when it comes to picking their owners as the creature they come from are detached and independent. These wands are the hardest to tame and personalise. Their main strength lies in Defence Against the Dark Arts and can adapt to casting Hexes and Jinxes. It is common amongst Light Wizards but, often, those do not stay light, not always. Known casters close to the Potter family are Harry Potter, himself, and Tom Riddle.

Eleven Inches: Most wands are usually between nine and fourteen inches long and this one, at eleven inches, is in the middle of that scale. According to Mr Ollivander, longer wands are attracted to bigger personalities which you’d certainly expect James Sirius Potter to be – and, indeed, he is so his wand suits him very well.

Rigid: This wand is highly rigid, heading towards unyielding, and thus when James was younger he found his wand highly difficult to work with as, between the lack of pliability and the Phoenix feather, it was an impossible, grumpy wand that really, really didn’t like Mr Potter to begin with.

Second Wand
Holly: These wand woods choose owners engaged in a dangerous, often spiritual quest. It is a wand that differs depending on the wand core and it notoriously difficult to team with a phoenix feather due to the wood’s volatility. Said to repel hexes and jinxes and increases ability in Defence Against the Dark Arts: holly wands are attracted to light wizards.

Dragon Heartstring and Unicorn Hair: The Dragon Heartstring has a lot of magical ‘heft’ and will and it is not a core useful for subtlety but it is balanced out for the calm and collected power of the Unicorn Hair. The heartstring is a common core amongst Dark Wizards but it does not belong exclusively to them. It is a bold and brash core and it contrasts wonderfully with the cerebral, gentle tendencies of the Unicorn Hair, providing a very level and exacting wand.

Nine Inches: This wand is at the lowest level of the scale, suggesting that James has something missing – and indeed he does: his memories.

Rigidly unyielding: As calm and easy as this wand is, it is even more difficult to control than his first wand ever was – suggesting that he has to work through something in order to understand his wand and, importantly also, himself.


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James Sirius Potter is the image of his father and exactly what, perhaps, Harry would have been if he’d spent his youth indulging in a high level of both athleticism and the pursuit of nourishment. A combination of years playing different kinds of sports and being fed to bursting by his grandmother, Molly Weasley, has seen James grow up to be a well-built adult man with broad shoulders and a subtle strength beneath lean muscles that cover his body. He never bulked up properly, however, because some Potter traits aren’t so easily gotten rid of with food and athletics. Along with those traits arrives the hair that cannot and refuses to be tamed and the woefully poor eyesight. Since he was very young, James has worn glasses but thankfully never had to wear the abhorrent round ones that his father did – instead keeping to a very stylish pair of squared, tortoiseshell spectacles. Behind those glasses, though, he neither wears the Evans emerald eyes nor does he have the rich Weasley brown. James’s eyes are somewhere in between, the brown paling to hazel flecked with green, lidded overtop by slightly ginger eyebrows. They are rather unremarkable in that sense and are flecked with short eyelashes hat tickle the tops of his cheeks. He has high cheekbones and slightly hollow cheeks that have, as of late, been framed by facial hair. He has a small, pink mouth that spreads wide into a cheeky grin and a long, pronounced nose that curls up a little at the end. In James’s eyes, you can still see evidence of the mischievous young boy who still had both parents and a good relationship with both siblings. However, time and hardship replaced much of that and then the final spell sealed it away completely. Now in his eyes there is a fog of confusion and there is very little to be found of the old James Potter. In many ways, he is now long, long gone – even in himself.

There has never ever been anything elaborate about the way James Potter dresses. He sticks to what he knows and that begins and ends at jeans and t-shirts and he very rarely deviates from that unless he’s at work. James is very well dressed. When he is at home or going somewhere on the weekends he sticks rigidly to it however while he’s at work he’s a bit better about what he’s wearing. James is a shameless lover of all things plaid and woollen and as such you would expect his favourite season to be winter but you’d be wrong. He adores summer and thus with that it brings out the little more shamelessly terrible things he wears. He is usually quite reserved – sticking to nice, ironed shirts and jumpers and oddly coloured ties: a trait he seems to have inherited from Mr Weasley – but when it comes to summertime he’s brash and ridiculous and thoroughly enjoys essentially wearing nothing. When he was fitter he had no qualms about that. Now he’s a little bit more reserved but certainly still has very little shame when it comes to the weird designs and downright bizarre hats he wears. Other than that, you could argue that James Potter is a conventional bloke. If possible, he’d like to lounge around in his boxers 24/7 please? Oh he can? Ta!

In his early Quidditch career, James was reckless and, frankly, argumentative. As a result, he had a tendency to lose teeth to some of the irate Beaters who really did hate Potters. Originally, he had the teeth regrown with new ones but after having the same tooth to the back of his mouth knocked out more times than he’d care to remember, he decided that he was bored of just regrowing the same one over and other. Instead, he had it replaced with a gold fitting. There’s certainly nothing fancy about it but it makes him feel like he’s a pirate and, frankly, that’s all he ever wanted anyway.

Ever a fan of his uncle Bill, James decided as a teenager that he was going to get one of his ears pierced and thus ever since he has had a fang earing hanging from the lobe he had done. He did, once, have his eyebrow pierced but that along with the fang earring got taken out when he was admitted to St. Mungo’s but only the fang made it back in. Since then, he’s had a light scar splitting his eyebrow but the majority of the hair has grown over now so you really wouldn’t have any idea that there had ever been one there.

Tattoos, tattoos – a man has to have some tattoos, am I right? Well, this one did. Ever eager to show off to his friends, James got tattoos when he shouldn’t have. He got a whack from his mother, too, so don’t you worry. Somewhere, though it has long since wandered off, there is a dragon on him. Being as he was drunk and being as it was a dare he also got a number of other – thankfully smaller – additions and one, which he had removed, that read ‘Jamie’ over his bicep. Now, apart from the removed one, the others are all enchanted which means they have been on the move and are constantly on the move so the dragon could be wrapped around his arm one minute and somewhere else, maybe his leg, another. It might not even be there for all we know – this is James Potter we’re talking about.

Finally, the most distinguishing feature about James must certainly be his laugh which is loud and long and clear as you would expect but there is something about it that is just so very him that it would be impossible for anyone to attribute that laugh to someone other than James. It has always been his calling card and he has served a number of detentions – rightly so, too – because he was heard cackling down the hallway from the scene of the crime. It is universally acknowledged that if James ever went to Azkaban then it would be because he was caught cackling – sod the evidence, it’d be because he was laughing.

PLAY BY: Richard Madden


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001. Argumentative,
002. Arrogant,
003. Assertive,
004. Athletic,
005. Authoritarian,
006. Charming,
007. Cheeky,
008. Clever,
009. Confident,
010. Courageous,
011. Determined,
012. Dogmatic,
013. Flighty,
014. Good-Humoured,
015. Hot headed,
016. Indecisive,
017. Inquisitive,
018. Loud,
019. Loyal,
020. Mercurial,
021. Optimistic,
022. Playful,
023. Polite,
024. Reckless,
025. Selfish tendencies,
026. Selfless,
027. Sirius,
028. Strong-willed,
029. Stubborn,
030. Worrier.

001. Adventure,
002. Being helpful,
003. Cakes,
004. Dogs,
005. Football,
006. Good food,
007. Lay-ins,
008. Movies,
009. Quidditch,
010. Reading,
011. Running,
012. Summer,
013. Sundays,
014. Walks/Hikes,
015. Yellow.

016. Coffee – he is a tea man,
017. Death Eaters,
018. Disappointing people,
019. Drinking in excess,
020. Early risers/rising,
021. Expectations,
022. Jam – particularly apricot,
023. Jazz,
024. Sand,
025. Smoking,
026. Storms,
027. The Dark Arts,
028. The Truth,
029. War,
030. Winter.

001. Figure out who in Merlin’s name he is really,
002. Run the London Marathon,
003. Do a good deed every day,
004. Ask the baker’s apprentice to marry him,
005. Marry the baker if not,
006. Buy the bakery if all else fails,
007. Honour his parents,
008. Somehow fix his family,
009. Work on everything,
010. Sort his life out.

001. James is left handed,
002. His socks are never paired,
003. He often forgets to eat,
004. Writes things he needs to remember on sticky notes,
005. Loses lots of things – namely sticky notes,
006. Bites his fingers and nails,
007. Always tripping up,
008. Afraid of heights – a new development,
009. Tactless at the worst times,
010. Rubs his nose a lot.

BOGGART: Failing to regain his memory.

PATRONUS: Buying Arnie, his golden Labrador retriever.

DEMENTOR: Waking up in St. Mungo’s.

- He can remember bits and pieces but it feels like it’s not even his life.
- He is an unregistered Animagus, taking the form of a black dog or wolf.

MIRROR OF ERISED: To put his family back together again.


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FATHER: Harry Potter | b. July 31st 1980 | d. c. 2009/10 | Former Head Auror

MOTHER: Ginerva Potter née Weasley | b. Augustus 11th 1981 | d. 2011 | Former Holyhead Harpies Chaser

Albus Severus Potter | b. 2005 | Spell Crafter, Author
Lily Luna Potter | b. 2010 | Student of Gryffindor House

James Potter I | b. March 27th 1960 | d. October 31st 1981 | Former Auror-in-training
Lily Potter née Evans | b. January 30th 1960 | d. October 31st 1981 | Unknown Profession

Arthur Weasley | b. February 6th 1950 | Former Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office
Molly Weasley née Prewett | b. October 30th 1949 | Housewitch

William Weasley | b. November 29th 1970 | Former Gringott’s Curse Breaker
m. Fleur Weasley née Delacour | b. c. 1977 | Former Assistant at Gringott’s Wizarding Bank
- Victoire Weasley | b. May 2nd early 2000s
- Dominique Weasley | b. 2000s
- Louis Weasley | b. 2000s

Charlie Weasley | b. December 12th 1972 | Former Dragon Man in Romania
m. Melissa Weasley née Hains | b. c. 1970s
- Sawyer Weasley | b. 2000s
- Casey Weasley | b. 2015

Percy Weasley | b. August 22nd 1976 | Former Ministry Kissarse
m. Audrey Weasley née somethingorrather | b. c. 1970/80s
- Molly Weasley | b. 2000s
- Lucy Weasley | b. 2000s

Fred Weasley | b. April 1st 1978 | d. May 2nd 1998 | Former Co-owner of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes

George Weasley | b. April 1st 1978 | Co-owner of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes
m. Angelina Weasley née Johnson | b. c. 24-30 October 1977 | Former Quidditch Player
- Fred Weasley II | b. 2003 | Department of Mysteries Head
- Roxanne Weasley | b. after 2003

Ron Weasley | b. March 1st 1980 | Auror
m. Hermione Weasley née Granger | b. September 19th 1979
- Rose Weasley | b. 2007
- Hugo Weasley | b. after 2007

Petunia Dursley née Evans | b. c. 1959 | Homemaker – former Officer Worker at Grunnings
m. Vernon Dursley | b. c. 1959 | Director of Drills (or something) at Grunnings
- Dudley Dursley | b. June 23rd 1980 | Married, had issue

Edward ‘Teddy’ Lupin | b. April 1998 ~ God-brother

The Black Family
The Blishwick Family
The Bulstrode Family
The Burke Family
The Crabbe Family
The Crouch Family
The Delacour Family
The Finnigan Family
The Flint Family
The Gamp Family
The Hayes Family
The Ivanov Family
The Malfoy Family
The Macmillan Family
The Lestrange Family
The Longbottom Family
The Lupin Family
The Prewett Family
The Rookwood Family
The Rosier Family
The Tonks Family
The Yaxley Family
And, believe it or not, many other distant relatives

NATIONALITY: British English

HOME TOWN: Godric’s Hollow,

CURRENT RESIDENCE: Borough of Islington, London, England.


SOCIAL STATUS: Upper-Middle Class.


“Mr Potter? Mr Potter? James? James can you hear me? James?!”

The feel of fingers pinching at his eyelids was rousing but the thrusting of hot white light beneath set the eldest Potter to rights, or so they thought. The man shot into a sitting position, his gaze wild and without ability to be settled. Hands grasped at his shoulders and he found himself being forced back down against the pillows as one of the Healers came into view. He had a friendly, lined face that almost, almost seemed familiar to him but no matter how much James squinted he couldn’t grapple with who it was, nor whether or not he even properly recognised him. Before he could, his eyelids sagged and once again he was plunged into cool darkness though never quite escaping the sounds around him.

“James? James! Quick, get him a Pepper-Up Potion. I want him awake. James, c’mon. Wake up, James. I don’t want to give you this.”

A firm hand grasped about his cheeks, pushing his cheekbones upwards and pressing his eyes into openness. His sightless eyes rolled in their sockets, unable to fix on anything hard and concrete but all the while he felt the soft blue gaze of the Healer on him even as the harshness of his fingertips dug into his cheeks. His mouth was coaxed open by the rim of the vial and he felt the bitter taste of the potion hit his tongue. A hand on his throat saw it slide down into his stomach and almost immediately his eyes seemed to focus though the Healer could perceive he saw no better.

“There you are, kid,” his lips curled into a half smile. “Look at me, keep looking at me… I’m going to ask you something, alright? James? James? Focus.”

The fingers around his jaw dug into his cheeks faster and James forced his eyes open as his hand came up to grip at the Healer’s. Reluctantly, the Healer released him and James gasped for air as the women holding him back released him, helping him come up straight to sit. Their hands rubbed circles into his back but he did not have much time for a reprieve as the light was resumed and used to study his pupils for a few breaths until the Healer was satisfied. The man sat down on the bed and turned over James’ arms carefully before putting his fingers into the younger man’s mouth, forcing his lips apart so he could look inside.

“You haven’t taken anything, have you? Answer me.” The Healer demanded, removing his hands. James shook his head fiercely. “Alright.”

“Where… where am I?” James spluttered, bringing a hand up to rub at his eyes.

The Healer paused, and sat down a bit harder having just been preparing to get up. He leaned forward and looked at James again, his eyebrows furrowing low over his light eyes.

“Who am I, James?” He queried gently. The blank look that he was greeted with however, began to give him leave to be concerned.

“The doc,” James mumbled in response.

“No James, what’s my name?” The Healer pressed, his hands coming to grasp at the young man’s upper arms. “What do you call me?”

“I dunno, doc I suppose,” James grunted, shrugging himself out of the Healer’s hold. “Where am I?”

“James, you’re in St. Mungo’s. D’you know where that is?” The Healer spoke slowly, carefully, watching as James’ eyelids began to fall once more.

“No, I… is that a hospital?”

“Alright, get me a diagnostic potion, someone, we need to figure out what he’s taken. Healer Roosevelt, get him changed. I want this figured out within the hour, people, alright?!”

When James finally came to, light was streaming in through the windows. He’d been moved to a private room and from there, through the little gap between the window and the sill he could hear the liveliness of the street down below. He shifted in his bed, feeling the cotton coverings turn over him, and he let his head fall to the side, allowing his gaze to drift over to the other side of the room and, in turn, capture the young Healer curled up in an armchair in the corner with a book balanced between the arm and her knee. She looked up then, seemingly feeling his eyes on her, and she closed the book with a harsh snap, abandoning it in favour for taking to his side.

“How’re you feeling, Mr Potter?” She questioned, running her wand over him, checking his vitals.

“Like I got hit by a train,” he croaked with a wry smile before meeting her gaze. “How’re you?”

To her credit, she laughed. “Fine, thank you. Are you thirsty? I can get you some ice chips or something.”

“How about a cup of tea?” He quipped, trying to find some purchase on the bedding. She came to his aid immediately, helping him sit up a bit better against the pillows.

“I can certainly ask Healer Macmillan if I can make you a cup of tea, sure.” She accommodated him with a smile.

“Can I just… check?” He broached, gently. “What’s my first name?”

The girl’s eyebrow knitted together with surprise and colour seemed to rush to her cheeks but for the life of him, James couldn’t quite grasp why. He opened his mouth to question her but she cut over him first before he even got chance to find his words.

“James.” She said softly. “Your name is James. James Sirius Potter.”

“That’s a bit pretentious,” he smirked. “Call me Jamie or Jim or something, please. What’s your name?”

“Look, Mr Potter-”

“Jamie. Please. Miss…” He squinted at her nametag. “Yaxley – J. Yaxley. What’s your first name?”

She flushed again. “Jeannette but I really think Healer Macmillan should talk to you.”

“Do you like Jean?” He pressed on with a bright smile.

“Yes but Mr Potter I beg of you-”

“Healer Yaxley, you can go.”

The man that James faintly recognised from early was stood in the doorway and dutifully, Jeannette took her leave, sliding past the Healer and disappearing into the throng of people in the corridor. The door was closed behind the doctor and the man lifted a chair up, setting it down by James’ beside so that he could take a moment’s rest to gather himself.

“Now, Mr Potter. Let’s talk about this, shall we? We found certain substances in your system but most have been there a while and the rest would only give you a hangover. What we believe is that you have been Obliviated. Do you remember what that is?”

James nodded vaguely. “So I’ve got no memories, then?”

The Healer nodded gravely in response. “You appear to have lost everything apart from your knowledge of magic which is infinitely more helpful than I would care to admit to you. While you were unconscious we tried to unlock these memories but we couldn’t, I’m afraid, find them. It’s almost as though it’s all been removed. That can either be a wonderful liberation or a minor disaster depending on your point of view.”

“I’m not really sure who I am, Doc. Like, at all. I just learnt my name properly off of Jean so I’m … I dunno.”

“Your middle name, you mean?” James nodded and the Healer smiled. “You don’t seem to have any retention problems then. You remember me, this time?”

“I guess you’re the Healer she was talking about.” James figured and the Healer inclined his head once more in affirmation.

“I’ve been your Healer for years, James. I oversaw your birth and that of your brother and sister. I’ve sealed nearly every bone in your body that you’ve broken or sprained through Quidditch injury. I know you very, very well.”

“Can you help me, then? I need to… I need to remember. I don’t know where to start I-”

“Well, you were born the same day as your father. Harry. Your mum, Ginny, was a Quidditch reporter and a player whilst your father was Head Auror. Your brother and sister came after you and they were ever so slightly trickier births but nevertheless, there you are. Your first break was in your second year when you joined the Quidditch team and got knocked off by a stray Bludger during the match. Collar bone and arm, I do believe.”

“When did you last see me, then?”

The Healer hesitated but James’ imploring look pressed him on.

“You were signed off, banned in fact, from your Quidditch team. I was brought on to consult when you failed your spot check for banned substances.”

James paled. “What? What do you mean?”

“When I asked you what you’d taken initially it was because I didn’t actually expect you to be clean. You’re not but it wasn’t anything deadly or ridiculous. Just leftover crap from what you had been taking and then alcohol but it wasn’t enough to see your memory away.”

“But I don’t… I don’t… do I?” James gasped, searching for air.

“Look, I’m going to be frank with you here, James. If you can’t remember then you need to know. You’re going to have withdrawal symptoms from nicotine, alcohol and the drugs you were taking, alright? Just, bear with me here, alright? We’ll help you through it, we will. There was no chance to get you clean before but we’re going to do this right this time round, alright?”

James could only nod. Who one earth was he, really?
“Susie,” James called out, putting down he scrapbook that he’d been brought in to look through in the hope that his memories could be jogged – though yet to no avail. The matronly witch looked up and smiled at him, the skin crinkling around her eyes as she bustled around his bedside table, changing the water jug and stacking his books and magazines more properly.

“What d’you want, m’love?” She queried, leaning over to smooth down his hair which was, not for the first time, sticking out of place.

“Can I go for a walk do you think?” He asked, gratefully receiving the cup of water that she offered him.

The witch straightened herself up and put her hands on her lips, studying him with her warm, hazel gaze before reluctantly conceding that it might well be good for him to stretch his legs. She helped him out of bed and as he found his feet she took a moment to get some clothes from the wardrobe in the corner. With scarlet cheeks he allowed her to aid him in getting dressed though he insisted on having her turn her back while he put on his boxers and jeans. Eventually he was dressed and then, once Jean had been sourced from the break room, she and James made their way through the hospital before leaving and going out onto the street.

“Have you had any visits from your family yet?” Jean asked conversationally, stuffing her hands into her pockets to ward off against the cold.

“Susie and Mac were telling me that I wasn’t on very good terms with them before the accident.” James ventured, looking over at her. “So, no.”

“You weren’t on very good terms with anyone if the papers are to be believed.” Jean pointed out.

“Yeah,” James sighed, watching his breath condense against the air. “I dunno. How true is it all? Did I really not speak to my siblings?”

“Not so far as anyone could tell, you didn’t.” Jean smiled sadly. “You’d fallen out with the Falcons manager, too. If it hadn’t been for the spot check you probably would’ve been sold by the end of the season.”

James pressed his lips together and nodded thoughtfully as they crossed the road and into the park on the opposite side. They found a bench and took a seat each. James stretched his legs out, crossing his ankles, and kept his hands in his pockets but he turned his head to look over at Jean, hoping to find the answers he wanted in the woman’s expression – though he had no luck.

“Did you know me like Susie and Mac… like, before?” He questioned finally.

“Who didn’t know the great and tragic James Sirius Potter, huh?” Jean shot back. “After your dad died, you kind of took on the firm – or so the Prophet liked to claim. You liked the name, they used to say. You liked to play up to being Harry Potter’s kid. They loved the mess you made – it was great front page news – but you were still the golden boy until … until your mum died too and your girlfriend with her.”

James bit his lip, “Then what happened?”

“Things hit the fan, I guess. Look, I’m only going by what the newspapers used to say but they weren’t nice about it. Like, they used to talk about Potter rifts and about how Weasley dinners were now docked a family member because you cut them all out and then you re-emerged as the golden boy once more and they all seemed to forgive you but then the allegations started and the Prophet started running stories about all of these issues that everyone thought had gone away but, oh no, there’re more and when it turned out everything was true…”

“Success for the Prophet, eh?” He interjected wryly. “Was I really that … bad?”

“To be frank, James, you were a nasty bastard and everyone hated you. Alright, you were charming and this, that and the other but you were ungrateful and difficult to be with and I guess still really fun but you had this turn about you that the Prophet just loved to point out. Like, you’d be storming out of restaurants one day and stumbling out of pubs another and they made a point to make sure everyone knew you weren’t talking to anyone in your family and you were just going along and while they condemned you they weren’t very nice about your siblings either…”

James frowned. “How d’you mean?”

“Well, the paps loved you because you were always around and the way you acted was the way they wanted the other two to act as well and when they didn’t they got just as nasty about Albus but not so much, thankfully, about Lily. Where’s the middle Potter and all this crap. Albus Potter: The Loveless Middle Son or whatever it was… there was this ruck that went out in the Quibbler that you allegedly had with the Prophet over it. Won you back some brownie points but after that everything came out and it didn’t end well.”

“No,” James licked his lips as he thought. “What… what does this mean, then? Will I not see my family?”

“You’ve got to go and get them, James. After everything, I don’t think they’ll be very quick to believe you.”

“But I was obliviated! It’s not my fault I’m-”

“They still remember the old you, remember. Remember that.”

James sighed angrily. “I don’t even know who that is, Jean. I’d never do any of that.”

Jean smiled a half-wry, half-weary smile. “No, not now – but you’re a different man, aren’t you?”
“Jimmy, we’re sending you home.”

James looked up from the sketchbook laid open in his lap. He put down his pencil and shot a stricken look at Healer Macmillan who merely chuckled in response.

“You’re ready to go home, aren’t you? We’re just eating your gold with you sat in here.”

“But I don’t know anything about anything out there, Mac… please.”

“James,” Healer Macmillan put his hands on the end of the bed. “You need to get out of here. How can you ever hope to remember anything?”


“Your cousin, Fred? Do you know whose son he is?”

“Uncle George’s.” James regurgitated with a proud smile.

Healer Macmillan smirked. “Yeah, you’re right. Look, Fred is going to give you a job, alright? No one in Quidditch will have you back now.”

James ran his fingers across the top of his head. “Yeah,” he murmured shamefully.

“Look, it’s in the past, alright. I shouldn’t have brought it up, I’m sorry. But I was thinking you could put yourself to work in the Department of Mysteries – I should think researching memory charms would be right up your alley, eh?”

James laughed aloud. “You’re joking?”

“Nope. I got him to find you a flat in London so we can check up on you and you’re moving next week and your new job starts a week after that so pack up, kid. You’re discharged.”

“No wait, Mac… you’re not serious are you?” James pressed.

“Dead serious. James. I want you out. Alright?” The Healer smirked. “I mean this in the best possible way but I want you out by the end of this week. Go and get a life, for Godric’s sake.”
The skin of another human being underneath his fingers seemed to rouse James from the stupor he appeared to have been living in for those weeks in St. Mungo’s. His romance with Jean was short lived, indeed, but with every touch of his fingertips and every graze of his mouth against her he felt as though he knew more of her and, by extension, something of himself. He knew exactly where to go and where exactly to linger to illicit favourable responses. It was as if being with someone in such an intimate manner was second nature to him and, indeed, it would later prove to be if the stack of Prophet’s articles were anything to show for his numerous liaisons. It was certainly no wonder he knew where to go. But alas, the affair was indeed short lived and Jean was out of his life almost as quickly as she entered it, a result of his reluctance to indulge her whims for the limelight – something he wanted to avoid at all costs and something she wanted to experience. Needless to say, the stronger of the two, albeit wearier and shakier, characters one out and Jeannette was gone by the end of the month. Reluctant though he was to see the first kind person his own age go, he wanted nothing to do with his old existence.

The newer version of James Potter was born out of confusion and one spell – one word, in fact. What he has tried to do and, in part, has succeeded to do, is reinvent himself in a way he understands. But as he goes through life with this fresh, almost moral outlook, where an odd innocence and smiley disposition comes out of cleverness and awkwardness and, let’s be frank, clumsiness, he finds he remembers more and more of what has happened but out of self-preservation he chooses to ignore it. He doesn’t want to remember, really. Ultimately he’s afraid that if he remembers he’ll relapse and be the same as he always was. He’s read the articles, he’s asked a few select people and what he’s learnt is that he was not a nice person to be around. He hid behind the name and became as false as he made it. He played to the cameras, played to the image and it twisted and ruined him until melancholy was the preferred state of being over anything else.

Now? Now he’s lifted, troubled still, but he’s a lot happier. Paired with his dog, Arnie, he’s got a better outlook and feels, almost, like he’s getting his affairs in order. Only, now it’s been closing in on a year. The “Where’s James Potter?” articles have dried up and brief notes to his grandmother no longer really suffice. They still don’t know, really. He chooses not to know, too. James is happy in the basement, in the Department of Mysteries, pouring over artefacts he has to get to the bottom of. He doesn’t want to find his old life. Not yet. He’s not ready. Scrapbooks suffice for his Hogwarts years. Magazines for his early adulthood. Now he wants to decide it for himself and make his own name – regardless of the reputation – and he’s going to do it soberly and without the cloying hangers-on that he used to revel in. He’s not quite the same James Sirius Potter the world cares to remember.






PURPOSE OF CHARACTER: Who knows? My own personal pain. James is the last one for a while, I swear.

James S Potter
James S Potter
Gryffindor Graduate
Gryffindor Graduate

Number of posts : 109
Special Abilities : Animagus, Parselmouth
Occupation : Explorer in the Dept. of Mysteries

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Post by Bertie Nogard Wed Apr 16, 2014 1:02 am

Hope you didn't mind me commenting, I had the urge to add 'accepted and sorted in grads' at the end of that but didn't know if It'd be appreciated haha Razz
Bertie Nogard
Bertie Nogard

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Post by Anabelle Mulciber Wed Apr 16, 2014 2:21 am

<3 Love him!

Accepted and sorted to Graduates!
Anabelle Mulciber
Anabelle Mulciber
Sixth Year Gryffindor
Sixth Year Gryffindor

Number of posts : 3934
Special Abilities : Seer
Occupation : Prefect, Transfiguration Aide


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