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James Potter II

WIP WIP WIP

0 · 395 views · located in Wizarding World

a character in “Nox // Lumos”, as played by Tumbleweed

Description

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N A M E
James Sirius Potter

N I C K N A M E
James Potter II [in writing] | Used to
distinguish him from his grandfather

Jaimie, Jam, Jamsicle, etc. | Silly
nicknames made up by his sister,
Lily.

Harry Potter's Boy | That, and every
other variation of the term.

A G E
Twenty-Two

G E N D E R
Male

B I R T H - D A T E
15th of August | β™Œ

B L O O D - S T A T U S
Half-blood

S E X U A L - O R I E N T A T I O N
Heterosexual
B L O O D - S T A T U S
Half-blood

O C C U P A T I O N
Professional Quidditch Player
β€£ Seeker | Tutshill Tornados
[2011]
β€£ Seeker | Puddlemere United
[2011 - Present]


C L A S S I F I C A T I O N
Member of the Resistance

W A N D - T Y P E

13"
Rowan
Phoenix Tail Feather
Supple


P A T R O N U S
Stag

B O G G A R T
His boggart constantly changes. It
can either take the form of his parents'
corpses or that of his younger brother, Albus.
But more often than not, he sees his
sister, Lily Luna.
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H E I G H T
5'10" | 178 cm.

W E I G H T
152 lbs. | 69 kg.

H A I R - C O L O U R

Dark brown | Short and wavy

E Y E - C O L O U R

Chestnut brown

D I S T I N G U I S H I N G - F E A T U R E S
Two diagonal slashes across his abdomen | Five inches long and Merlin only knows how deep, running parallel from the tip of the left iliac crest to a little below the solar plexus.

Shoulder tattoo | He's only ever had one: that of four moons, representing the family he's lost; with a water lily in the center, for the one that mattered most.
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S T R E N G T H S
Flying | Like his father and his grandfather, flying seems almost second nature to James. He can fly almost anything, handling even the oldest of Cleansweeps or his dad's godfather's enchanted motorcycle as if it were the latest Nimbus.
Quidditch | Nowadays, it isn't so much a strength as it is a lifestyle.
Charms | Description
Fiercely Loyal | Description
Occlumency | Long before he married Ginny, Harry Potter promised himself that he'd make sure none of his future children will ever experience the pain of having someone claw through their mindβ€”and so, he resolved to instruct them in Occlumency as soon as he deemed them old enough. James received an entire summer's worth of these lessons, and when his dad died, his Aunt Hermione took over in his stead. While he certainly isn't the most talented Occlumens, he at least knows enough to be able to hold his own against some of the more advanced Legilimens.
Stealthy and Quick-footed | Even without his dad's Invisibility Cloak, James has an uncanny ability to slip away from almost anything. This talent proved very handy for late-light explorations during his Hogwarts years, and now its importance has increased almost tenfold because not only does he have to escape Dark Wizards, he has to evade his own fanbase as well.
Gift for Languages | So far, he's fluent in over two dozen languagesβ€”including Troll.


W E A K N E S S E S
Potions | Doesn't have a knack for it. All he can manage are greyish, soupy-looking things that smell like bogwater, and that's only on the rare occasion where his cauldron doesn't explode.
Care for Magical Creatures | Description
Quick-tempered | Description
Tendency to Avoid Problems | Description
Stubborn to a Fault | Description
Transfiguration | Ask him to transfigure a desk into a pig, and he might just turn it into, well, a desk. Albeit one with a curly pink tail sticking out of one end.
Damsels in Distress | And there it is, the illustrious hero complex inherent to many Gryffindors, and especially predominant in Potter males. Ask for help, and he'll come running no questions asked. This makes him especially susceptible to traps, as he's exactly the kind of person who would run headfirst into a fire to save a cat regardless of whether he's brought an extinguisher or not.

L I K E S
Likes | Description
Likes | Description
Likes | Description
Likes | Description
Likes | Description

D I S L I K E S
Dislikes | Description
Dislikes | Description
Dislikes | Description
Dislikes | Description
Dislikes | Description


Q U I R K S
β€£ Quirk
β€£ Quirk
β€£ Quirk
β€£ Quirk
β€£ Quirk
F E A R S
β€£ Fear
β€£ Fear
β€£ Fear
β€£ Fear
β€£ Fear

So begins...

James Potter II's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Donovan "The Ripper" Grimm Character Portrait: James Potter II Character Portrait: Augustus Bane Character Portrait: Bernadette Weasley
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

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LOCATION :: Diagon Alley
STATUS :: Down & Out // [- 'Forgive me my weakness.' -]
[ How To Disappear Completely || Radiohead ]
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    -----------------------------------------"Diffindo!"

    "Immobulus!"


    "Petrificus Totalus!"-----------------------------------------

    ----Child's play.

    ----Spells tumble easily from his lips. They emerge in technicolour bursts from the tip of his wandβ€”illuminating the stubborn jut of a jaw set and teeth clenched, and the vitreous sheen of sweat beading between brows creased in salient agitation. Nothing else is spokenβ€”no half-formed jests, no savvy one-liners, not even a sliver of banterβ€”only spells; and they are relentless in their formation.

    ----He is a fighter first: he duels like a kickboxer and each spell hits like a sucker punch to the gut.

    --------"Everte Statum!"

    ----There is a flash of orange and a crack that resonates; drowning out the sharp cry of the body thrown back, muffling the crash of glass storefront shattering beneath black-robed flesh. The spell hits hard, and Augustus braces himself for the recoil that inevitably follows.

    ----He anticipates the force that thrusts him back a step, but he does not foresee the muted thump of his back colliding with that of another. He turns, fully expecting to be faced with dead eyes and iron masks. Instead, he's greeted by a head of burnished copper, and automatically thinks: Weasley. Further recognition of said Weasley comes immediately afterwards, and he feels the grim set of his mouth twist into a roguish grin.

    ----Victoire Weasleyβ€”also known as Bernadette; also known as Bernyβ€”but to Gusty:

    --------"Oi Vick-toy-ree, watch where you're going, yeah?"

    ----But there's no reply; no clever retort; and his laughter dies at the back of his throat.

    ----He feels it before he sees itβ€”the chill, settling in the hollows of his bones; the whisper of despair pooling in the recesses of his mind. Skeletal digits clutching at his destitute heart.

    ----He doesn't thinkβ€”there's no room for rationality in the face of a Dementorβ€”and only acts: yanking her, almost bodily, behind him; wand hand outstretched; the incantation already forming at the tip of his tongue.

    All he needs now, is a memory.

    --------"Expectoβ€”"

    ------------------------A boy.

    ------------------------No older than six.

    ------------------------A crown of spun gold and eyes like a placid sea.

    ------------------------Hovering barely an inch off the ground, sweat beading between a prematurely creased forehead.

    ------------------------Another boy swims into focus beside the first.

    ------------------------Barely a teenager, yet dignified in the set of his shoulders, the stiffness of his back.

    ------------------------He speaks in measured tones as the younger nods, eyes trained towards the skies, fingers clutched tight around the broom handle.

    ------------------------At his brother's signal, Augustus tilts the broom upwards and kicks hard.

    ------------------------He's airborne. Six years old and already zipping past the treetops on a miniature broom.

    ------------------------He hears Artie clapping below him, the joy in his brother's voice carrying clear past the wind rushing through his ears.

    ------------------------He looks down, wanting to glimpse the pride shining in the silver-blue they both share.


    --------"E-expectoβ€”"

    ------------------------There is no pride.

    ------------------------He is seventeen and he's no longer flying.

    ------------------------The ground is solid beneath his feet, but it's slicked red and what remains of his parents is scattered around him.

    ------------------------On him.

    ------------------------Flesh and blood sliding down the sides of his face; red marring the gold of his hair.

    ------------------------His eyes focus on the silver-blue of the man before him.

    ------------------------He who wears his brother's face, speaks with his brother's voice...

    ------------------------His eyes bear the same colour, the same hueβ€”but they are dead, and dull, and
    cold.

    ------------------------Impossibly glacial.

    ------------------------The eyes of a murderer.


    --------"β€”Patronum."

    ----There is a brief flicker of light, but it dies in the span of a breathβ€”

    ----β€”because after all, a Patronus can't be cast when all one's happiest memories culminate in blood.

    ----The grip on the wand slackens, and his arm falls limply by his side. He doesn't trust himself to speak, and only stares; unable to do anything as the Dementor draws every nearerβ€”turning the blood rushing hot in his veins to cold, hard ice.

    --------Surely this must be the end?

    ----But then, something comes barreling pastβ€”nearly knocking him over, blinding him with it's light. He barely registers the voice screaming 'Expecto Patronum' behind him, too transfixed by the stagβ€”bright and radiantβ€”a being fashioned from the sun.

    ----The Dementor never stood a chance.

    ----Augustus staggers backwards, the chill dissipating from his limbs as his mouth falls open, willing the oxygen back into his bereft lungs in deep, staccato heaves.

    ----He realises, only belatedly, that he still has a hand circled around Bernadette's wrist, and he immediately drops it as though burnt. He doesn't spare her a glanceβ€”even as he accio's her fallen wand towards him and presses it into her palmsβ€”nor does he spare any for their unlikely saviour, one James Sirius Potter, who comes barreling towards them with panicked eyes and a mouth full of questions.

    ----His failure carves gouges into his skin and shame pours out like blood.

    ----A flutter of wingbeats, and he's goneβ€”a blur of white and gray bulleting towards the skyβ€”leaving with naught but a grunt of thanks, and doing what he does best:

    ----Running away.