Just Friends
Welcome to Potter’s Army

Welcome to Potter's Army

We have been a Harry Potter Roleplaying site since 2007. If you're an old member we hope you come check out the discord link provided below. And if you're looking for a new roleplaying site, well, we're a little inactive. But every once and a while nostalgia sets in and a few of our alumni members will revisit the old stomping grounds and post together. Remember to stay safe out there. And please feel free to drop a line whenever!

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What’s Happening?
Since every few months or so a few of our old members get the inspiration to revisit their old stomping grounds we have decided to keep PA open as a place to revisit old threads and start new ones devoid of any serious overarching plot or setting. Take this time to start any of those really weird threads you never got to make with old friends and make them now! Just remember to come say hello in the chatbox below or in the discord. Links have been provided in the "Comings and Goings" forum as well as the welcome widget above.

Just Friends

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Post by Teddy R. Lupin Sun Jul 06, 2014 9:27 pm

It wasn’t often that he was discovered by Bernice on his Ministry visits. Typically, he would swing by in the morning to let her know that his work would be taken care of at the Ministry, and she always offered to buy him a coffee at break. Today was no different. He had popped by her office to offer a good morning. She had delivered him coffee. But suddenly, after lunch, she was suddenly approaching him in the office he took when he took up base in the Ministry.

“Teddy.”

He turned. There she stood, looking professional with a braid down her back and long legs complimented in slacks. She shifted from foot to foot, looking awkward and nervous. He turned in his chair, gazing up at her. She caught her lip under her teeth and swallowed. Her blue eyes were shining more than usual. Teddy blinked, numbly setting down his quill and waving away the memo that had been flitting around his head.

“Yeah, Bernice?”

She gulped again and squeezed her eyes shut. A shaky smile worked its way onto her lips and she forced a laugh. “It’s stupid, really, it’s just…” The smile left, replaced by a look of sorrow. “Val just came by at lunch and… she’s cheated on me. Again. And I just feel really stupid.”

Before she could cry, Teddy had stood and enveloped her in a tight hug, his cheek resting atop her soft hair. She was composing herself with deep breaths and he swung the pair of them from side to side, gently lulling her into comfort. She clung tightly to him and he smiled, finding that there was true joy in sharing the human experience with someone you seemed to have little choice in caring for. Bernice had become a part of his life and he doubted that was ever going to change. And, in that, he found so much comfort.

She was finally under control and she nodded, giving him permission to leave her to her own devices. He held her out at arm’s length, looking into her face and eyes searching to make sure she truly was going to be okay. She kept his gaze without embarrassment or shame, as close friends could do, not shying once from his careful search. She was putting on a brave show, but she still looked hurt. Before Teddy knew what he was saying, the words were out of his mouth. “Want a distraction?”

It had been a long time since he had flown, and even longer since he had flown through the Forest of Dean. Flying was something every person who spent more than a week in the Potter home just seemed to know how to do, and Teddy found he was relying mostly on instinct. Bernice squeezed his middle tight, leaning forward to peek over his shoulder. He dipped behind trees, rose above the treeline, dropped again. Laughter was spilling from Bernice’s lips, and she pointed ahead at something. Teddy angled that way and found a pool of water. Their feet created ripples across the water as they drifted above it, before they went speeding off again, the sky before them, their troubles behind.

“I never want this to end, Teddy!”


“Is that all, sir?”

Teddy looked up sharply, his eyes absent, his fingers withdrawing from the small scroll in his pocket. The grocery clerk smiled kindly at him, looking a bit amused by how distracted this man was before her. He reached up, gripping his temple between his index finger and thumb. “Um, yeah. Yes. Sorry. Thank you.” She began bagging his items, food for himself and for the other Potters – one of his contributions to the whole Lily situation.

His hand floated again into his pocket, bumping into the scroll. With the contact, the words on the scroll jolted through his body like lightning. ’Teddy. It was all a BIG misunderstanding. Val and I are good again. Tell you all about it later? Thanks SO much. You’re the best. Truly. Love, Bern.’ He swallowed, doling out the coins necessary for his purchase, scooping up the bags, and left the store. He had to keep moving so his mind could take a break.

He looked exhausted. Something about the man just did not express the happiness or inner peace that he encouraged his clients to seek out for themselves. He swallowed, walking slowly and in an ambling fashion, clearly not ready to go home and face the hot mess that was his family. Finally, he had to stop. He needed some time to be in a world separate from his own private troubles, where crushed hopes of love or recovery did not pervade his calmness of mind.

He slipped into the Leaky Cauldron, dropping the bags off at the bar as he slid into a stool. “An iced tea, please.” A deep sigh racked his body as he settled peacefully for a few moments of relaxation.
Teddy R. Lupin
Teddy R. Lupin
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Number of posts : 265
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Post by Peter Howard Thu Jul 10, 2014 12:46 pm

The roads were slick with wet summer rain that sent up in the air the faint sweetness of it that was mixed inexplicably with the scent of shaven grass. Tugging up the collar of his coat, he shrank into the warmth of it before extending a cool hand to his son who was bobbing along beside him, splashing his feet in the puddles that had formed in between the jutting cobble stones. Finley slid his hand into his father’s but continued to bounce along, half pulling his father along, half keeping him back so he could bob in and out of the puddles.

Peter Howard couldn’t find it within himself to mind it, either. He watched as the little tendrils of hair peeking out from underneath his hat began to curl. For a moment, Peter was reminded of his brother, who had for the longest time greeted the world in a similar expressive, quiet wonder. Of course, time altered that fate for him but Peter found himself wishing that there would be a little less of that slight punishment in the life of his son who he wanted so desperately to stay happy, small and bouncing in puddles forever if it meant that he could avoid some of the pain that seemed to stalk their family in the shadows.

“Daddy look!” Finley exclaimed, throwing himself forward, their arms picking up the slack all of a sudden so he stopped, half-suspended in the air. He bent his knees, his other arm shooting out happily and he turned his head, looking at his father with a bright, optimistic expression as Peter, his lips curling into a faint expression of reluctance and disbelief looked at the kitten – he was sure there was some Kneazle in it – sat drenched on the pavement across the road. He didn’t look as though he had an owner either and as Finley looked from his father to the cat, Peter had a sinking feeling that his house would gain an animal.

“Can we call him Boots?” Finley asked as Peter released him, allowing him to hurry across the road towards the kitten. He was a good looking cat, as much as it upset Peter. He watched, sidling between the two cars parked there, as Finley scooped the kitten up into his arms, cuddling it into his coat. The cat mewed pitifully and licked at Finley’s fingers. The boy gasped, his smile insatiable and rising on his features. Peter sighed, a wry smile of his own lighting across his face.

“Boots it is, then,” Peter decided, extending his hand to the boy once more. “C’mon, let’s go to the Leaky and get you and Boots dried off, shall we?”

Finley nodded, deciding that this was the best idea and so the boys and Boots made their way down the road, finishing off their journey to the pub that they had made a habit of going to every couple of weeks. It had been something of a ritual for Peter and Sarah when she’d been still alive and the strange irony was not lost on him at the fact that Finley had now filled his mother’s boots on that front. The boy didn’t drink – thank goodness – and instead enjoyed an iced tea with a bright blue umbrella and a stripy straw in it. Peter, himself, had gone off of drinking lately but he was not quite at the iced tea level of sadness so he kept with a glass of white wine – somewhat more civilised than a pint of lager.

When the three entered, Peter divested Finley and himself of their coats and hats, hanging them up on the hooks before following after Finley who immediately headed to the bar with Boots in his arms. Just as the boy reached the stools, Peter reached him and his hands went up underneath Finley’s arms to lift him onto the stool. He exclaimed his thanks and set Boots down in his lap before looking to the bartender who, having set down another glass of iced tea a little way down the bar, roused a chuckle at the boy who he’d gotten to know quite well.

“How are you today, little man?” He asked, wiping the bar in front of them before setting down two coasters.

“I’m good thank you, Noah,” he replied politely. “How are you?”

Noah chuckled, “I’m great. Truly great. So, what’s it tonight, then?”

“Iced tea, please!” Finley grinned. “But can my umbrella be green please?” He asked.

Noah nodded, pulling a glass up from under the bar before turning an eye on Peter who merely smiled and nodded, asking for a glass of wine. Noah returned after a moment, first with the wine and then with the iced tea before setting a bowl of milk down on the bar also. Finley brightened immediately – as though his green umbrella wasn’t great enough – and he lifted Boots onto the top, the cat eagerly beginning to drink.

“He’s so pretty, isn’t he?” Finley asked, running his little hand down Boots’ back.

Peter chuckled after swallowing his sip of wine. To him, the cat looked like a drowned rat. Nevertheless, he was glad his son was happy – even if it was a somewhat dubious thing to bring home. But at least, he supposed, it was a good way to teach Finley some responsibility.
Peter Howard
Peter Howard
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Number of posts : 336
Occupation : Owner of the Hog's Head | Carpenter

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Post by Teddy R. Lupin Sun Jul 13, 2014 10:38 pm

Teddy was only drawn out of his melancholy public solitude by the sounds of the newest patrons sitting next to him in the small pub. A young boy and who appeared to be his father had filled the seats next to Teddy, having a pleasant exchange with bartender as they all admired the drowned-looking kitten that was puttering about the bar. Teddy glanced around him, a bit unwilling to get the attention of these bar neighbors. Alas...

Teddy glanced over before returning to his own tea. He did not have to resist the usual urge to smile that children prompted onto his face. Somehow, this was not a pleasant little run in, but a horrible reminder. It was only so miserable because of the recent failure to secure the attentions of the woman that had encaptured him for so long. With every passing year, a family of his own seemed less and less likely. He knew that he could still find a mate that could reproduce, but it took so long for people to get to know him. Bernice knew him so well and yet...

It wasn't going to happen. He was just beginning to get it through his head and this adorable little boy was too terrible a reminder.

He glanced away and finished off his tea. He set the empty glass down and leaned forward, asking politely for another. He felt something strange at his right hand. He slowly turned his head to see that the little kitten had ventured away from its younger master and was licking a few stray drops of tea off of the back of his hand. He smiled and glanced up at the boy. "You have a runaway," he said, speaking with his usual calm kindness.

He gently scooped the kitten up, depositing him in front of the little boy. The bartender dropped off Teddy's drink and Teddy smiled at the man tending to the boy and the kitten, giving him that short nod of greeting that men were known to give.
Teddy R. Lupin
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Post by Peter Howard Mon Jul 14, 2014 4:47 pm

Taking a long slurp from his iced tea, you could suffice as to say that Finley Howard was in heaven. Yes ma’am, he was in heaven. It was his favourite time of the month when he and his dad could go out to the pub and sometimes, if Peter played cards, Finley would get to sit on his lap and watch him trounce the old wizards who sat in the corner smoking woodbines and toiling over the yellowed, cracked and crumbled cards nigh twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.

It made him feel like a grown up, even though his dad told him that he wouldn’t like being a grown up if he really was one. Finley didn’t mind so much, though. No, he couldn’t wait to be big enough to play himself. He was learning and getting better, his dad said, so Finley was determined that as soon as he was big and tall like his dad he’d be sat where Peter sat and he’d be playing too, raking in more gold than anyone would ever dream to hope. Well, he dreamed. He most certainly dreamed, and that was why he was going to do it. Watch out, wizards.

Peter watched as his son turned on his stool as he was returned Boots once more. Finley petted the animal liberally, on his head, on his back, twirling his fingers around Boots’ tail, and he smiled up brightly at the man before him. “Thank you,” Finley said politely. “Boots is going to be an adventurous kitty I think.” Boots came back, purring against Finley’s hand before skipping across the bar to Teddy. “I’m Finley,” he introduced himself, holding out his hand. “Who are you?”

Smiling into his glass, Peter took a sip of his wine. He set it down again and rested his head in his hand, content to watch Finley interact with someone else. It had been a long time since he’d really sat and had a discussion with anyone properly. Since Finley had been born, Peter had been attached to him like glue and he’d abandoned all other kinds of relationships to focus on his son. He didn’t want to repeat Azkaban. He’d been determined to be good for the sake of his son. He wasn’t entirely ‘good,’ per se, but he didn’t get caught anymore.

“That’s my dad,” Finley said, gesturing over his shoulder. “He’s called Peter. I think he likes to be Pete, though. No, just Peter. Oh, I dunno. This is Boots.” He petted the cat, punctuating his words, and smiled again. “He is a cat. A kitty cat. And he … well, he can’t dance but I’m going to teach him the Macarena. It’ll be great.”

And you’ll have to learn, too.
Peter Howard
Peter Howard
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Occupation : Owner of the Hog's Head | Carpenter

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