InsaneJournal

WHO: James S. Potter and Jo Harvelle
WHEN: Last evening.
WHAT: Encounters of the Sulky/Broody Kind
WHERE: First the sidewalks and then who knows!
STATUS: Closed/Incomplete
Ratings: TBA, but likely PG-13. James mouth.

He needed his dad. James hadn't really even thought the words let alone said them aloud since he was a second year. James always thought that he could do things on his own, he always wanted to prove that he could. That he was the smartest, the most capable, the one with the most ability. Complete with know-how, Gryffindor bravery and strength. He didn't like asking anyone for help. That included his parents. Least of all his dad.

Not to get it wrong. James loves his dad. It was just that in James' opinion, he and his dad didn't always see in the same wavelength. If James wanted for anything, he almost always went to his mother or his godmother or his grandparents. His grandmother and mother most of all. Because they just understood him. He didn't have to bother with the asking because they, especially his Nana, knew what he wanted to say before he could think what to say. Which was wonderful for him because he didn't have to ask, he could just depend and pretend that he wasn't. (Unless they were irritated with him but that was an entire different story). With Harry it was never that simple or that troublesome (because do you know how bloody mad it is to have two hot-tempered stubborn women who know you better than you know yourself and still expect you to behave). Nevertheless, there were moments where no one else but Harry would do to listen to what James had to say. Who would calm the agitated buzzing in James' mind. That still managed to come about whenever the former Gryffindor believed that he came short of some ideal. Whenever James didn't want to acknowledge how disappointed in himself he was. Whether it was not speaking up quickly enough when Gryffindors loudly insulted his brother and his brother's friends. Or when he acted in a completely un-Gryffindor like manner by all but washing his hands clean of the Pettigrew situation, and even contemplating thoughts of harm. Those were moments when James needed his dad and Harry always, always came through.

Harry wasn't here now and James seemed to be stuck on his own. Which only served to further his irritation with this place, with himself, and with the situation. Because at twenty-two (or was he still technically twenty-one?) he should have been able to manage the right thing to do on his own. To acknowledge the noble, moral, way and accept it.

However, he couldn't. Which was what found him this early evening - hands in pockets - walking the streets of Colligo and attempting to straighten his thoughts, sort out exactly it was that his felt, in order to properly help his brother with the situation as he should as eldest.

James wasn't really watching where he was going which is why his shoulder smacked hard against someone else's.