Far away Date: Wednesday, 15 October, 2001 Time: Afternoon Location: Ibiza Characters: James and Harry Potter
"No- usted es... demasiado joven para ser madre," James was grinning, watching a little girl with long, dark hair go tearing out the door.
It was a bit broken, sure, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Graciela had barely been a teenager the last time James had seen her, back when her mother owned the place. Without a doubt, anytime James and Sirius were in Ibiza for a party, which was generally the only reason they went to Ibiza, the morning after was spent in this little hole in the wall. It was laid back, family run, and half the seating was outside. In short, it was the perfect place to nurse your brain back to its proper state. Since he figured it was safe enough he hadn't bothered to obscure any aspect of his appearance, in part because a piece of him was hoping that the same family would be running the establishment. Though Rosa, Graciela's mother, was nowhere to be seen, it only took a quick reminder of his name for the now full grown woman to recognize James. Thankfully, she had been so young that she found the lack of change in James' appearance was dismissed with one off-hand comment.
She flashed a smile that James knew well, usually reserved for when Sirius was pulling flowers from behind her ear (for some reason, you could hide nearly any bit of real magic simply by involving muggle ears), and lifted her left hand. A wiggle of her fingers had the ring on her finger catching the light in the afternoon sun lazily spilling in through the large, open windows.
"Casado?" he replied with an exaggerated groan. Placing a hand over his chest he went on, "Mi corazón... aplastado."
She laughed at him and gave a dimissive wave of her hand, all too accustomed to his flattery. "Oh, si señor James, estoy seguro de que nunca recuperar."
It was a bit too fast for him to catch all of it, but there was something to it about him never recovering. Before he could continue on, she was grabbing a large platter. Oh, she'd flirt right back, but just like her mother, never forgot that the reason people came was to eat. Graciela was holding up what James was sure was the biggest platter they had.
"Solo?" she asked, glancing around. "Dónde está tu amigo lindo?"
He'd told Harry to grab a seat outside while he ordered. Tourists, not that many would stop in someplace like this, and newcomers were the ones who sat down and waited for a waitress. Familiar patrons were the ones who came up to the bar and placed the order themselves. It only then occurred to him that she wouldn't be able to see Harry sitting out on the patio. Maybe that was a bit for the best, seeing as to how explaining that he had a son his own age might be a bit more difficult to write off than a memory likely to be a bit faded by a couple of decades. Still, the idea of introducing his son as his son, well, he liked the idea. Maybe he would, on their way out. After all, they were far enough removed from the wizarding world here. What could be the harm?
"No, por dos, por favor," he replied, his grin widening.
A few moments later, James was making his way to the tables on the patio with an enormour platter full of paella in one hand and two beers in the other. It was warming than London, though the sky was nearly filled with rolling pale gray clouds. James figured it made for a nice sort of breeze, made even more pleasant by the view of the beach. Setting down their lunch and their drinks before eased into the seat next to Harry, he quickly snatched up a fork.
"This," James promised, "is the best paella you will ever have, anywhere."
And with that, he squered a shrimp and popped it contentedly into his mouth.