jamesmontypotter-blog

[jamesmontypotter-blog]

ooc;

Hi everyone. I’ve been struggling with this decision for a while, but I’ve decided to leave the group. My decision is 100% based upon the fact that my day-to-day schedule is so incredibly hectic that I just don’t have the time to rp any more -- honestly, if I could I would rp with all of you all day long. It’s not fair to the group to have an inactive James when he’s a crucial/important character and I don’t want to be selfish when I’m sure there’s another writer out there who could really contribute to the group and do justice to James’s (and Cecilia’s) character. 

I’ve enjoyed my time here so much, which is why it’s so hard to leave. I’ve met some really fantastic people and the standard of creativity is on another level -- you’re all incredibly talented writers. A huge shout-out to the admins though, Amanda and Lauren. I love you both so much. I think you’re both exceptional. <3 You should both be proud of yourselves for creating and running this wonderful group. And I’m going to be stalking this group like crazy because I don’t want to leave (ahhhhhh!!!!!). 

Hopefully this isn’t a goodbye forever (as in the future, if my schedule stops being fucking nuts, I’m re-applying for sure), but just a goodbye for now. I have a personal tumblr which you guys can still contact me on and of course my kik. :) Please don’t be strangers! 

Love you all,

Christy xxx

[jamesmontypotter-blog]

Records (stolen from Remus Lupin) that James Potter pined over Lily Evans to alone in the Gryffindor boy’s dormitory

Listen on Spotify (Made with lots of help from @bloodyhellharry​)

1. You To Me Are Everything -  The Real Thing 2. Everything I Own - Bread 3. All By Myself - Eric Carmen 4. I’d Wait a Million years - The Grass Roots 5. Waiting For A Girl Like You - Foreigner 6. All Out of Love - Air Supply 7. Can’t Get By Without You - The Real Thing 8. Go Your Own Way - Fleetwood Mac 9. Lay All Your Love On Me - ABBA 10. Silly Love Songs - Wings 11. The Tide Is High - Blondie 12. If You Leave Me Now - Chicago 13. Dance With Me - Orleans 14. Love Me For A Reason - The Osmonds 15. Oh! Darling - The Beatles  16. Don’t Leave Me This Way - Thelma Houston 17. Love Really Hurts Without You - Billy Ocean 18. Cherish - David Cassidy  19. La La La (If I Had You) - Bobby Sherman  20. If I Can’t Have You - Yvonne Elliman  21. I Just Want To Be Your Everything - Andy Gibb 22. Give A Little Bit - Supertramp  23. Tears On My Pillow - Johnny Nash 24. So Lonely - The Police 25. Help Me Make It Through The Night - John Holt 26. Landslide - Fleetwood Mac 27. Wild Is The Wind - David Bowie 28. Without You - Harry Nilsson

[jamesmontypotter-blog]

@remus-whoisleft

If we want to believe that James Potter was repeatedly asking someone to spend time with him in spite of their reluctance during his early days at Hogwarts I would 100% like to believe that person was Remus Lupin like

Remus: It’s probably not a good idea if we hang out I’m not great to be around

James: Sure whatever you say Lupin also please light this firework when Sirius counts to 3

[jamesmontypotter-blog]

She leapt to her feet and adopted a defensive stance, all from the mere sound of his voice. James couldn’t help but think, somewhat wearily by this point, that he should probably ready himself for a verbal lashing. Because that was the dynamic their interactions had always held; she scolded him for doing something -- and admittedly, that ‘something’ was often stupid and reckless and probably unnecessarily boastful -- and then he’d try to charm his way around her anger, with a joke or another attempt at trying to impress with his showboating. That was their history, that was the script from which the last few years of their relationship had been dictated. But this year, things between himself and Lily Evans had been decidedly different. 

It all stemmed -- if James really wanted to think about it (which he definitely didn’t, because thinking about it caused him to feel a twinge of shame and that was something he was not accustomed to feeling, nor was it something he particularly wanted to dwell on, or feel ever again, really) -- from, what he’d subconsciously dubbed as, ‘The Lake Incident’ at the end of last year. He had been thinking about asking Lily out for for a fair few weeks preceding the incident, but he’d spent so long agonising over how exactly he was going to do it and trying to build up his nerve, that it had all come bursting out of him in the most brash, arrogant and, frankly, most terrible way imaginable. She’d confirmed his fears -- “I wouldn't go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid”-- and his pride had definitely taken a severe hit as consequence. The only silver-lining from the debacle was that it had been surprisingly easy to play the whole thing off as a joke. The public nature of the incident meant everyone was privy to his embarrassment, but at least nobody was willing to believe that James had actually been serious in his intent to ask Lily out. He was a permanent detention-resident and she was a studious Prefect; they were polar opposites. Nobody could really envision James with someone like Lily... and he was the class-clown, so everyone had reasoned that he’d just pulled another stunt, again. 

‘The Lake Incident’ had fortunate timing, as James had the excuse of summer holidays to avoid everything to do with Lily Evans. She’d rejected him, point-blank, and James’s pride wouldn’t allow him to make the same mistake twice. He wouldn’t allow his feelings for Lily to best him. So, he’d been resolute in his intent to forget everything he’d ever felt towards her. He’d ended up being largely successful -- he had had other, more pressing matters, to occupy his thoughts after all, namely Sirius arriving on his doorstep and his Father’s deteriorating health. He’d managed to keep his resolve when he’d returned to school in September, as he avoided Lily completely. They had never been friends prior to the incident (she was too close to Snivellus for that) and the only things they had in common were being in the same house and perhaps sharing a friend or two. He’d gotten on with his life -- he’d dated Jeanette, he’d really liked Jeanette (even though that had all turned to shit, again, through his own stupidity) -- and he’d forgotten all about his misplaced feelings for Lily Evans.

Despite his determination to completely forget all about her, the physical attraction to her hadn’t ever gone away. And it resurfaced at really unexpected or impossibly inconvenient times; passing her in the corridor and being hit full-in-the-face with a waft of her perfume if she brushed too close to him, which meant he had to try and forget that he even knew and recognised her perfume for the rest of the day... or, more often than he’d care to admit, having a casual wank and an image of sodding beautiful Lily appearing in his mind at the final moment -- which would leave him feeling disgusted and ashamed about later. His body was a traitor; even now, as she stood only a few feet away from him, he could feel his chest tightening, his heart racing. It was infuriating; nobody else had this kind of hold over him. He was in misery -- he didn’t want this at all -- which was why avoiding her completely had been working. He took half a cautionary step backwards as she stood-up -- Merlin, he definitely didn’t need her invading his personal space -- and he retorted,

“What? Is the broomstick not clue enough? Where do you think I’ve been?” His eyebrow quirked and he sighed heavily, though quickly added, “And yes, before you eagerly whip out your detention slips, McGonagall has actually given me permission to practise late. So you’ll just have to catch me breaking some other rule tomorrow to make up for it.” 

He glanced down at her, again weary in the face of her defiance -- when he observed, possibly too late, that defiance wasn’t the only expression held on her features. Infact, her emerald eyes were brighter than usual and tinged with red, almost as though she’d been...

“Evans, have you been crying?” James blurted, in his customary blunt manner. However, concern immediately clouded his expression and he asked, in a far kinder tone, “Are you alright?”

The Witching Hour || James & Lily

After a long day of studying and several strolls to and from Hogsmeade where she drank more than double her weight in butterbeer, it was safe to say that Lily was more than ready to climb back into her warm bed. Yet all in all, she has had a pretty uneventful week. The news of the upcoming Quidditch match had triggered excitement amongst many of the students around her, but for Lily the euphoria was not mutually felt – not to the same extent anyway. The game was not really ‘her thing’, it was more the social side of the event that she looked forward to and the parties thrown afterwards. But most of all it was a distraction and, especially since New Years, Lily cannot help but appreciate these diversions from the real world in whatever form they took - whether it was found in a good book or in this case, a giant Quidditch match.

If Lily could have predicted the nightmare she would have before it had happened she wouldn’t have even bothered to close her eyes. It started out pretty average, a nice replay of the week; a time where she could untangle any knots she met through the days. Her mind brushed through them gently, Lily a bystander of her own thoughts, until all of a sudden the nightmare had arrived. It was slow at first, a blurred figure of what could have been her sister appeared from one of the shops in Hogsmeade and she smiled at her from across the street (a rare occurrence these days) and Lily waved back. Then an explosion, much like the one at New Years rocked the streets, covering her world in dust. Lily coughed as the imaginary filth filled her lungs and a thousand screams joined up in one. Lily tried to lift her feet, to reach her sister and her friends who had joined Petunia in the panic, but her legs refused to move. It was as if someone had her feet cemented into the floor and as she looked down, she realised with a sickening thud of panic that she was ever so slowly sinking into the ground. Time seemed irrelevant at this point. What could have been five minutes in the real world felt like hours in her mind as she slowly sunk, forced to watch her friends dying until the cement reached her eyes and the cries became silent.

She awoke with a sharp inhale, her eyes flying open. She sat up to find her friends where they were supposed to be: in bed and sleeping. A pale and shaking hand reached to wipe a sheet of sweat from her forehead and tuck a loose strand of red hair behind her ear. There was no way she was going back to sleep just yet. Lily took a moment to steady her breathing before quietly swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and slipping her feet into a pair of white slippers neatly placed on the floor. In the dark she struggled to find her dressing gown, so she settled for the blanket that was tangled among the sheets. After wrapping herself in it, she slowly made her way down the steps where she placed herself, cross legged on the armchair, by the dying flames, the screams from her dream still echoing in her mind.

In nothing else other than defiance did she angrily wipe away the tears that slowly began to form in her eyes. She shouldn’t cry as it was only a dream and dreams aren’t real, they’re a figment of one’s imagination. But no matter how many time Lily pushed down that feeling of terror, there was no point denying that this dream was more revealing than she knew. For one this only demonstrated how goddamn scared she was. Not that she would ever admit it of course, she needed other people to believe that she was okay, that she was strong. So caught up in her own thoughts, Lily didn’t hear the Portrait door swing open or hear the figure that approached her, and so sudden was James’s voice, that Lily couldn’t help but gasp in shock.

“I could say the same thing about you,” Lily retorted back as she stood up to face him, although despite the strength of the declarative, her voice quivered and was a lot quieter than she had anticipated. She took in his appearance once and noted the tiredness that lined underneath the eyes and was all of a sudden conscious of how she must look. Long strands of hair that was once pulled back and tied into a neat ponytail now hung unceremoniously around her face, the eyes (like James’s) were carrying heavy bags and slightly puffed where - somewhere along the line - she had failed to force the tears back. She consciously pulled the blanket tighter around her, covering the marks her tears caused moments ago. The flames were now embers which Lily had failed to notice before now having being so absorbed into her own mind. She was so aware of her own messy exterior, she couldn’t even find the energy to tell James off about his own sloppy appearance – she wasn’t a hypocrite after all.

[jamesmontypotter-blog]

[jamesmontypotter-blog]

“Mate.” James sighed, sadness creeping into his voice as he watched Remus throw back the Firewhiskey. He was glad that Remus was being open and honest with him -- but it didn’t make watching his friend struggle any easier for James to witness. He felt so utterly useless; because what was there left to say? James couldn’t fix this, even if he’d wanted to (and he desperately wanted to) -- but this lay squarely at Sirius’s feet to resolve. James couldn’t do it for him, not this time.

“Pfft. I’m not jealous.” James replied in a snappish, and most assuredly jealous tone. He had a great fear of ‘missing out’ -- even if what he was ‘missing out’ on was something he really wasn’t into (he liked girls far too much). Though, he snorted at Remus’s cheeky wink and added, “Y’know, Sirius offered me a similar proposition. And look, if he had boobs, I’d probably be all for it.” At the mention of Jeanette, James’s cheeks coloured slightly and he had the good grace to look appropriately sheepish. He accepted the (significantly lighter) bottle Remus passed back over to him and he nursed it for a while; he still felt rather guilty over the way he’d acted towards Jeanette, “Yeah. That was a big... fucking mess. I hate leaving shit on bad terms, so I’ve been writing to her these holidays. She seems okay with me now, I think we might even go watch a Puddlemere game together.” He scrapped a hand through his unruly hair, pulling through his messy curls and adding with a half-smile, “Look at the pair of us, eh? Pretty crap when it comes to this whole... sleeping with friends, thing. I still don’t think celibacy’s the answer, but.” He shrugged, watching as Remus lit up his rolled cigarette and muttered, “Yeah, thanks. I mean, I was supposed to be trying to quit but...”

boys night outside | moondeer | christmas break

[jamesmontypotter-blog]

“A gang of chattering girls separated Snape from James and Sirius, and by planting himself in the midst of this group, Harry managed to keep Snape in sight while straining his ears to catch the voices of James and his friends.”

Order of the Phoenix, chapter 28

[jamesmontypotter-blog]

“WE WON! WE WON! WE WON!” [As soon as James had dismounted his broom after the final whistle had blown, he’d kept up the same bellowing mantra. He was euphoric. All of his hard work had paid off and he couldn’t have been more proud of each and every member of his team. He felt as though he could conjure a whole army of Patronuses in that moment and as he ran around the pitch, cheering and whooping, he yelled] “Oi! Why isn’t anyone shaking a bottle of butterbeer and pouring it over my head yet?!  

[jamesmontypotter-blog]

the marauders aesthetic: james potter

—"the git is right you know, you did really strut down the corridors your entire time at hogwarts.“

[jamesmontypotter-blog]

Remus: Should I be concerned?

James: [dragging a body bag up the stairs] Nope.

[jamesmontypotter-blog]

aesthetic: the marauders era —"and I’ll come around, someday.“

[jamesmontypotter-blog]

James: Guys. We’re not gonna lose because we have everything we need to win right here.

James: [points to his chest]

The Gryffindor Quidditch Team: [smiling] Heart.

James: No, me! I’m gonna win the match for us.

[jamesmontypotter-blog]

James Potter didn’t “change for Lily.” He grew up, urged on by the fact that a war was coming and he was the kind of person who wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if he didn’t actively fight the evil forces gaining traction in his society. He matured because he was living in a world where innocent people were in danger for no sensible reason, and he realized that there were far more important things than seeking fleeting amusement and trying to look cool.

Don’t suggest that he pulled a 180 personality switch to get the girl he liked. He already knew his values, and he learned to prioritize them and use his leadership skills for better causes as he got older.

[jamesmontypotter-blog]

The Witching Hour || James & Lily

With the Ravenclaw match just around the corner, James had been retiring to Gryffindor tower at increasingly late hours over the past few weeks. He was the first on the pitch at day-break and the last to leave in the evenings; people often joked that the fanatic James Potter “lived and breathed” Quidditch, but his life really had become that. He barely left time to eat or sleep, and he only wished classes didn’t go for so long -- they only ate into valuable flying time. He had never been more determined to win a match in his entire Quidditch career. After Gryffindor’s dismal performance against Hufflepuff during the first match of the season, James’s Cup dreams had been shaken -- but after watching the matches between Ravenclaw vs. Slytherin and then Slytherin vs. Hufflepuff -- his hopes had been restored. Gryffindor weren’t out of the running yet, not by a long shot. It all came down to points, after all. If Gryffindor could really trounce both Ravenclaw and Slytherin, and he and his Chasers put some serious points on the board in the process, then the Lion’s could claw their way back into the lead and onto victory. 

It was like a fire had been lit inside him. When he wasn’t on the pitch, he was doodling plays into the margins of his Transfiguration work-book or following Mary to her next lesson and explaining the Wrongski Feint move in graphic detail. That being said, James really had been spending all his free time on the pitch and tonight had been no different. He’d booked the pitch as often as Madam Hooch would allow and this evening he’d hosted a rather gruelling four-hour team practise. The January weather conditions, with the bitterly cold chill in the air and icy wind, hadn’t exactly helped foster team morale and James had the distinct impression that all of his team were close to crying in relief when he eventually said they could all turn in for the night. He’d stayed out by himself for another hour or so, running drills, practising plays, really getting lost in the beauty and sheer euphoria of flying... but once he couldn’t feel his fingers around his broomstick (they were almost frozen, despite the fact he was wearing his thick dragon-hide gloves!), he figured the time to turn in had come.

Once he’d showered and changed out of his muddy Quidditch robes, he’d surprised himself by just how late in the night it was. He walked up the lawns and then through the quiet, sleepy castle in silence. He liked Hogwarts by night best of all; it really felt like home to him, then. He’d explored these moonlit corridors so thoroughly, every turn was second-nature. He probably could wander back up to the seventh floor in his sleep. And Agrippa above, his body was craving sleep. Although James had a steely resolve and was determined to not let himself feel exhaustion -- he could crash after the match had been won -- his body was starting to feel the strain. However, he allowed himself to day-dream, as he clambered through the portrait hole, of his nice, warm bed upstairs... the house-elves would have turned it down for him, maybe even put a hot water bottle between the sheets.... when,

“Oh.” 

He’d expected the common-room to be totally deserted by now, yet one, lone student remained. It was Lily Evans. She was seated in the arm-chair closest to the fire -- which was just dying embers in a grate by this point -- her own flame-like hair reflected in their waning, orange glow. A confused look appeared on James’s face; what was she doing up so late? His question was re-affirmed by the old grandfather clock -- the one that he and Sirius had told all the first years was haunted to scare them (which was actually somewhat true, as Nearly-headless Nick did like to hang about it) -- chimed twelve midnight.

“What’re you still doing up?” 

James wondered out loud as he strode further into the room, his broomstick and bag still slung over his shoulder. As he drew closer to where Lily sat, he became acutely aware of himself -- it wasn’t necessarily a self-conscious moment, because James Potter wasn’t in the least bashful or unsure of himself -- but it was more a realisation that his hair was still wet from the shower, that he probably looked ashen-faced and exhausted and that his school robes had been haphazardly thrown on (probably not up to her ‘Prefect’, straight-tie and tucked-in-shirt standard). In short; a sloppy mess -- which wasn’t out of the ordinary for him. But still, acutely aware is what she made him.

@iironflower

[jamesmontypotter-blog]

“Aha! But isn’t that just what someone wanting to off me via a poisoned flyer would say?” [James proceeded to take the flyer, anyway. Although, this was immediately followed by a very melodramatic scene where James clutched desperately at the hand that now held the flyer and he staggered forward, choking. He continued to swoon and even, at one point, fell to the floor to lay ‘dying’. His little performance earned a lot of giggles and odd looks from other students passing by. However, after a couple of moments, he peeked open one eye to gaze back up at Dorcas from his ‘death bed’ on the corridor’s floor. He then jumped back up to his feet in a spritely, energetic fashion and remarked, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred] “Nup. Doesn’t seem poisoned. I think if you wanted to have me killed, you’d probably be less convoluted. So... why’re you handing out non-poisoned flyers then, eh?” [James asked, staring at Dorcas instead of actually reading the flyer in his hand]

“It is a flyer. It hadn’t been poisoned, no matter what anybody seems to think based on the way they keep avoiding eye contact and refusing to take one.”

[jamesmontypotter-blog]

[There was no need for Mary to elaborate on the “it”  she referred to -- James was instantly well aware to what she was alluding. His expression darkened momentarily; when James had caught wind of what Mulciber had done to his close friend he’d been beyond reason. Utterly livid. He still was, really. He was disgusted by the fact that Mulciber hadn’t been expelled, that the cronies on the school board had saved his skin... and now Mary had to walk the same corridors, even attend the same classes, as her attacker. It wasn’t fair. His eyes widened in worry and he muttered, thinly veiled panic and fury evident on his features] “He hasn’t come near you again, has he?! He hasn’t... done anything... right? I’ll fucking kill him--”

Mary began to feel small under the weight of both his hands and his gaze. How did she even begin to explain it to James? Does she tell him she’s been loosing track of time because she spends so much time trapping herself in the Gryffindor tower because it’s where she feels safest? Or that she’s been researching, yes with books, reasons why magic would suddenly stop working at crucial times for a trained 17-year-old witch? Or maybe tell him about the three letters to home she’s started and then ripped up explaining her choice to leave Hogwarts before she once again changes her mind? All these thoughts were buzzing around her head, but without realizing it, the words that came out of her mouth were: “James… I’m scared. And I know it’s dumb and… it happened a long time ago, but I just- I’m still..” she trailed off, shaking her head.

[jamesmontypotter-blog]

mary-whoisleft:

She felt giddy at his agreement. She didn’t usually get too picky about brooms, but James’s new one  was the latest model and she can only imagine the feeling of speed and power riding on it must bring. Well, soon, she won’t have to imagine at all. She shook his hand energetically. “Agreed. Though, I still plan to use New Years as a warm-up.” She watched as he made his hair even messier than it already was. Even so, he still looked adorable, and he can see why the girls fall for him. But she was still confident she could win. She never burned bridges, so she had a nice reserve group she could tap into if needed. “Well, with my siblings finally also off of school, I’ve been spending time with them.  And I guess I now have that practice session with you planned.”

[He grinned wickedly as she shook his hand. James Potter was confident in everything he did; most of the Marauder’s hair-brained schemes were pulled off by James’s bravado (though with a smattering of sheer, dumb luck). James never saw failure as an option and this agreement was no different. As Mary relaxed back into her chair, he gazed at her interestedly] “Am I a shitty friend because I don’t know how many siblings you have? Tell me about them! And -- oi -- when do they get to meet their Uncle James, eh?”