The Kid - Son of a Legend

The Kid - Son of a Legend

Chapter 1 - Of Daydreams and Siblings

"I'm the kid who ran away with the circus

Now I'm watering elephants"

"James Sirius Potter! Watch your elbow!" his mother groaned. This was her son's fifth spill of the day. Ginny Potter waved her wand and whispered, "Scourgify!" In an instant, the mess of sticky pumpkin juice was cleaned off the table. Sighing, the 32-year-old mother returned to feeding her youngest child, Emma.

James had thought a lot about running away lately. Being the oldest of five kids was tough. It had been much simpler when he was an only child. Most unfortunately, that period of time had only been for one and a half years. Joseph Alexander Potter arrived, and James' life changed forever.

Now, after going through that process three other times, James was quite used to it. He was used to it, but didn't like it one bit. Turning back to his lunch, the eight-year-old chewed on his sandwich slowly, thinking again.

"But I sometimes lie awake in the sawdust

Dreaming I'm in a suit of light"

If only he was the little baby that Mummy was cooing over. James watched baby Emma giggle as Mummy tapped her nose, just like she used to do with him. A faint *pop* drove James out of his reverie again. He glanced behind him to find a tall figure much resembling himself to be standing near the front door.

Ginny stood and walked over to kiss her husband. James got up, craving attention from his father. Lily, however, got there first. The little four-year-old jumped, holding her arms up for her father to catch. He threw the tiny girl into the air and caught her again, making her vibrant green eyes sparkle.

Harry set Lily down and went to cuddle his other toddler - a grinning two-year-old boy named Tyler, whose red hair stood out in a crowd of black-haired children. Next came Emma, who smiled a toothless grin as her father made silly faces and blew a raspberry on her tummy.

Joseph whimpered from the back of the crowd, and the much-loved father bent down to scoop up his second son. Joseph laughed and ran back to his food after a 10-second hug. James stood up; a goofy grin identical to Harry's playing his face. As Harry sat down at the table, he merely acknowledged his eldest child by ruffling his hair and saying, "Good to see you, son."

Son? Son? That's it? Not even by his own name, which, he might add, was his grandfather's name. James suddenly stood up to address his family. "I'm not very hungry anymore."

"All right, James. Put your plate by the sink," his mother said. James did as his mother instructed and ran upstairs to his room. The walls were covered in drawings his siblings had done for him. One showed their whole family, and another depicted his grandparents, James and Lily, walking by the lake at Hogwarts. James' personal favorite was one Mummy drew of him what seemed ages ago. It was a picture of his namesake when he went to Hogwarts. He had scarlet robes that said "POTTER SEEKER" in bright gold lettering. It was quite good.

"Late at night in the empty big top

I'm all alone on the high wire"

The eight-year-old mimic of Harry Potter sat down on his bed and a tear silently trickled down his face. From a drawer under his bed, he pulled out several drawings he had done, and a wizarding photograph taken seven years ago.

All the pictures were of him and Mum and Dad. They were taking walks or playing. This photograph was of himself, Mummy, and Dad. It was his first birthday, and they went to a place out in a meadow to have a picnic. The meadow also had a play park where James played on. That was one of the last days where every moment was just himself, Mummy and Dad. (He couldn't really remember what had happened before his brother was born, he only remembered how it felt.)

Now he was alone. All his brothers and sisters were downstairs smiling and playing with Dad. It wouldn't have mattered if James had stayed down there. He would have just sat there, watching himself be deprived of the joy and attention he wanted.

"Look he's working without a net this time

He's a real death defier"

James decided to take a risk, but in order to do so, he had to do it carefully. James was going to run away. But where to go, and how to get there? Those were questions he might have some trouble answering. The time to run was obvious: tonight. It was only one o'clock in the afternoon, so James had a long time to think everything out.

The first thing to look at was where to go after he started running. James had an idea! He would run to Uncle Ron and Aunt 'Mione's! They only had one daughter, and would be bound to take him in for at least a night before he would travel farther. Now that the where? was settled, the how? was quite easy. Tonight he would travel by Floo powder to their house.

"I'm the kid who always looked out the window

Failing tests in Geography"

James spent the rest of the afternoon in two phases. The first was packing. The boy took out an old school bag of his and placed his favorite items in. The items he had the most trouble deciding what to do with were his photographs and his drawings. James eventually decided that if his parents truly did love him just as much as the others, they would be able to figure out why he left from the pictures. If they thought even more carefully, they might even figure out where.

James had decided that he was going to run away to the meadow he had played in as a baby, the place where his parents played with him all day. He had decided this in his second phase: daydreaming. He wasn't paying attention to the real world. At six o'clock when his mother called him for dinner, James had just finished his final packing stage.

The boy scurried down the steps to dinner, deciding to leave after it got dark. He thought it also might be a good idea to eat something before he left. The pasta tasted quite bland to James, as he was getting nervous about what he was going to do in a matter of hours. James left the table at 7:30, a half-hour before everyone else, saying he was tired.

Ginny nodded and Harry mumbled, "All right." James trudged up the stairs to check over his things. He then hid his book bag under his bed until it was time to leave, in case one of his parents walked into his room. (It's not like they would.)

The three hours came and went, passing as slow as a slug. James opened his door and peeped down the hallway. Everyone's door was closed, and sounds of soft breathing noises could be heard from each room. James laid the pictures and photograph on his bed, grabbed his book bag, and tiptoed down the stairs.

He grabbed a bit of Floo powder from the container at the fireplace. James stepped into the fire, closing his eyes. With one last look at his house, the eight-year-old threw the powder in the ash, saying very clearly: "Ron and Hermione Weasley's house."