Summer 1971
Fleamont Potter, or Monty as he was dubbed by everyone, came from an affluent family. Despite having a history of muggles being married into the wizarding family, they were still quite respectable. There was something about them, something, ironically, which was magical. You didn’t visit their ancestral home once for a dinner and forget them. No, you’d be invited the next week again, and of course, you’d go. You’d have delightful conversations in that house, whether it was the head, the wives, the children, even the servants. The Potter house was welcoming, and large.
So incredibly large.
It was a house made for having children run about. The fireplace was there so you’d huddle up close towards it. The large, many large, ovens were there so you’d bake all you’d wanted to with kids. The bedrooms were all connected, so if your child had a nightmare, they’d run to you. And you’d hold them, close in your arms, comforting them.
The Potter house was built in such a way, it was made for holding children.
Euphemia’s womb on the other hand wasn’t.
Monty knew from the moment he saw her that she was the one. “There were sparks” he’d tell his parents, narrating the same five seconds over and over. Monty and Euphemia were high school sweethearts, the definition of “love at first sight”. They were the it couple, the couple you wanted to be sandwiched between. Surviving a class with them was half miserable, half mesmerizing. How could two people be so in love? It wasn’t a surprise they’d gotten married in the summer of 7th year. It wasn’t surprise when Euphemia fully moved in the Potter home, and Monty’s own parents moved out a while after. Monty tried to get them to stay, but his father just winked and told him they’d need all the space they could get. Everyone expected a batch of kids within the next few years. Everyone expected to get sick of going to baby showers, birthdays, and others events. But no one was more excited than the newlyweds themselves.
“I hope some have your rich skin.” Monty loved Euphemia’s Indian heritage. He took pride in his wife, one of the most gifted witch of her age. She’d worked so hard, despite not being blessed with the best circumstances. But she made do with it. Everything about Euphemia inspired Monty. He hoped their kids would be just like her.
It was a surprise, even after three months had passed, there was no baby, no bump. For normal people, it’d be fine, it’d be great actually. But for Euphemia and Monty? Something was wrong.
They didn’t go to the doctors right away. They tried, and tried, and tried. They tried until they stopped trying, and then they tried again. But no matter how much they tried, nothing came. What did come, was the news that Euphemia was infertile. While infertile and sterile are two completely different things, being told that was just about the same as saying “You’ve been ripped away from the joy that is motherhood, and your cursed to spend the rest of your life wondering if your husband will be ever satisfied”. The news was hard to bear of course, but they’d be okay, according to Monty.
Their first child was called “Amber” and she made it to a shocking two months.
Then came Kimaya, she managed two weeks. Anaya Celeste was a beautiful name, so it was unfortunate when that name was wasted too. Meera and Riya were supposed to be identical twins, who knows which parent they would’ve looked more like. There were never any sons. Always a daughter, who would fail in appeasing her parents.
Then came James.
James who was a miracle, a courageous warrior. James who would replace all the children they’d lost. James, who would grow to become Euphemia’s hero.
It was no shocker after James’s birth that Monty and Euphemia often got told they spoiled James. But how could they not? They’d been waiting so long for a child, and they’d finally got him.
Euphemia wouldn’t have any pregnancies, therefore no miscarriages after James’s birth. Not until she found out she was four months into carrying a daughter, in the summer of 1971.
-
They agreed to tell James the second they got home after the ride. Fleamont made sure to get a gift for James, to show even though they’d have another family member, James was still important. Euphemia tried her best to calm herself down, but it was hard not to worry about everything.
James looked happy to be home, though, you could tell he missed it back at Hogwarts.
“Pete said he and family are going on holiday soon, I think to Australia. So, you’ll have to let me visit him soon. And I was thinking maybe I could visit Remus. He’s not the biggest fan of staying over at people’s houses.”
James rambled on and on. Despite exchanging letters weekly, the boy always had more to talk about. It’d come in handy when their child would learn to speak.
“James’s dear, is that it yet?”
Like clockwork, James would shake his head before starting a new story. Euphemia hoped he’d be done by the time their car rolled over to their house, but much to her dismay, he hadn’t.
“And then, I planted a dung bomb in such a place, it hit the professor completely! Everyone was laughing, but the teacher was so mad she-“
“How about you finish later? Me and your Ma have something to tell you. Something special.”
James looked up at Fleamont, waiting eagerly.
“Your mother’s pregnant!”
-
The gears in James’s head began turning. His Ma, his mother, was… Pregnant? No, there was no way. It was far too late to have a child now, was it? Wasn’t being pregnant hard? James knew a pregnant lady down the street, and life was very hard for her. He didn’t want his Ma to struggle like that.
“James? Your mother’s pregnant.” Fleamont repeated.
Would he have a sibling then? But James liked being the only child. He liked he got all the attention and love. He didn’t want to share that. What if his parents liked the baby more than him? Didn’t that happen a lot? Hadn’t it happened to Peter? After he was born, the first boy after three girls, his parents basically overlooked his sisters? James didn’t want to be overlooked.
“You’re going to have a sibling, James. Isn’t that exciting?”
Was that his mother or father? James couldn’t discern the voices. All he could think of was it would no longer be them three anymore. They were so perfect already, why would they do this?
“I don’t want a sibling. I don’t want anyone. I like things the way they are now.”
James didn’t know he was speaking until he finished. He stared at the ground; his head began to ache. He clutched the gift his father had got him – an enchanted music box. It was a girl then. A music box. What kind of gift is that? What was James supposed to do with a box that played any tunes you wanted? Was he supposed to use it to sign lullabies to the baby?
“Oh James! We like the way things are now too! But we’ll grow to love things when they change.”
His parents were wrapping their arms around James, embracing him, steadying him. Would they do this after the baby would come? Where would they find the time? Babies were stinky and gross, a mess. His parents would have to dedicate all their time to it.
“You’re going to make a wonderful big brother.”
James didn’t want to be the big brother. He wanted to be the only brother, the only child. But what could he tell his parents? They looked so happy, full of exhilaration and life with this news. James felt sudden guilt; how could he be so full of negativity? Clearly this was a good thing, otherwise his parents wouldn’t look as though they’d went to heaven and back.
“I’ll make sure to do my best then.”
James hoped these words would morph from a lie to the truth. He didn’t know if he could do his best, want to his best even.
Though James couldn’t confide in his parents, he knew he had three other people he could rely on.
The first person he talked about it to was Peter.
“Having siblings? Well, I suppose I enjoy it. Though, my sisters can be a bit much at times. Older siblings are so bossy! You shouldn’t be like that.” They were out having a family picnic. Currently, James and Peter were sprawled on a picnic blanket, pigging out on sandwiches.
“Do you get along with them?” James had many questions to ask, but Peter’s answers always fell vague and short.
“Every set of sisters and brothers get along, whether they like it or not. It’s this natural feeling, I guess. If you don’t feel a connection now, don’t worry. It’ll happen.”?
James felt like it wouldn’t, but Peter wouldn’t have said that if it weren’t the truth. So, he put his utmost faith and trust into his best friend.
Peter was like a brother to James, maybe it’d be like that.
James would then get a reply from Remus. He’d sent a letter as early as he could, Remus clearly didn’t put in the same effort.
“Sorry Mate, I’m an only child and my parents aren’t going to have any more. But you’ll be great.”
Everyone seemed to think James would be a great big brother. So why didn’t James himself think that?
It was Sirius who finally gave James a fresh perspective. He too had a sent a letter, despite James’s many attempts to visit him.
“Now, to answer your question about siblings and whatnot. My little brother, Regulus, was born a year after me. Back-to-back siblings I suppose. My experience was something like this:
When I first found out, I was only I believe a toddler. I didn’t care for it much, not until Regulus actually came home. The first moment I saw him, I felt nothing. But spending every day with this new bundle of life changed something in me. I became Regulus’s protector, his first friend, his best mate. I became a brother to him. It didn’t matter if there was any space left for me in my family, all I knew was I had made space in my heart for Regulus. Nothing mattered to me more than his safety. From there onwards, loving him became easy.
It'll be like that for you too. No one can resist a baby. Not a toddler, not a child or teen. There’s something about babies that are naturally charming, hypnotic even. You have to learn to love some things, and that’s okay.”
Sirius had written many pages, detailing what he’d done, stories he wanted to share, gossip etc. But those three paragraphs remained on James’s nightstand, and every night, he’d read them over and over.
The last line taunted him.
Loving anything and everything came so easy to James. How did you learn to love something? Was that even possible? If it was, then you could use that to forgive everyone for what they’ve done. There wouldn’t be hatred, deception or such in the world. But there was. Did people choose to love some things and choose to hate the others? Wasn’t that so cruel? Why would anyone ever decide to hate?
Nothing made sense anymore. All the lines of morality were blurring in James’s mind. And all because of that baby.
But nothing was more scary than the recurring nightmare James had: His parents choosing to not love him anymore. Choosing to forget.
-
1971’s summer came and passed. It was one of the worst summers, atleast, it was compared to the first eleven years of his life.
“The baby’s coming home in October James. Wouldn’t it be a treat if she was born on Halloween?”
Then the holiday would become about her instead of the actual event James thought absent mindedly while he played around with the food in his plate.
“Yeah, it’d be cool if she was. It’d make her more significant, special.”
James felt sick as he said those words. He didn’t want the baby to feel special. He didn’t want the baby to feel as though she was family. He didn’t want the baby at all.
That summer, James secretly prayed his mother would loose the baby.