#but also just euphemia potter being a menace

[gigglesandfreckles-hp]

basic maths

Euphemia Potter once endured the Cruciatus curse for a staggering five minutes without uttering so much as a whimper. Rumour has it that when the Death Eaters finally relented, she stood tall, flashed them a smile, and put her hair in a ponytail before disapparating, as if she could have done it all along. (The two Death Eaters responsible were found dead two days later, allegedly having both fallen off of a roof. James asked about the circumstances surrounding that exactly one time before deciding it was better not to know some things about his mothers extracurricular activities.) “James!” The familiar rhythm of Euphemia’s knock echoes through his bedroom door, the distinct sound of her meticulously manicured nails successfully ruining James’s sleep (and most likely soon-to-be his life, if past experience proves anything). “If you’re naked, put some clothes on. I need to speak with you.” “Mum,” he grumbles, fumbling for his glasses on the bedside table. His fingers miss their mark, sending the spectacles tumbling to the floor. Instead, he retrieves his wand, momentarily contemplating the consequences of hexing his mother through the door—would it be the Ministry or Euphemia who proved more formidable? “James! I’m opening the door in five seconds. You better not be wanking to one of Sirius’s magazines.”  In that moment, James concludes that while Euphemia may indeed be the more daunting adversary, the potential repercussions might just be worth the risk. The door swings open, and Euphemia breezes into the room. Even without his glasses, James can sense her presence—her regal demeanour, the jingle of her extravagant jewellery, the soft rustle of her robes against the rug. She’s either been awake for hours or slept in the ridiculously ensemble. Neither of those options is entirely far-fetched from who James knows his mother to be. “You know,” she begins, and he barely manages to move his legs before she settles on his bed where they were before, “when your father and I first got married—” James doesn’t manage to suppress his groan. It’s too bloody early for this. “—he insisted on staying in London and it was almost a breaking point. I told him, ‘Flea. You can’t raise a family in the rain.’ I almost left him, James.” “No, you bloody didn’t,” he mutters. His mother has many talents: campaigning, duelling, and creating drama where it is absolutely not necessary. James’s glasses hit him sharply in the face and he knows without looking that she’s summoned them silently. He also knows the force with which they hit his cheek was absolutely intentional. keep reading on ao3

[letstrythisout4]

Thinking about Fleamont adopting…basically any and every child in need of guidance.

Very “We may not know each other but if you ever need help, I’m here.” energy.

Like people always talk about Euphemia being everyone's mother and I agree 100% but Monty??

Don’t play with him.

They’re in Diagon Alley and a sales associate is being really just underhanded while talking to Remus and all of a sudden Remus just feels two massive heavy hands on his shoulders and Monty just starts tearing into worker, making incredibly specific but accurate reads into who they are as a person until they look like they’re going to cry. Once he feels satisfied he just steers Remus away, bringing him back to the others, not even bringing up the interaction that they just had.

They’re all at Slughorn's party and some high member of a subsect of the ministry makes a comment about how impressive it is that Mary and Lily are so talented given their “backgrounds” and Fleamont is just like, “What do you mean by that?” The person sputters some incomprehensible nonsense before excusing themselves hurriedly. The second they’re gone Fleamont turns to the girls telling them that if the situation is safe to do so that they should never let people speak to them in such a manner, “When that happens and no one says anything, they grow comfortable. Never let them be comfortable.” Even though he speaks softly as to not be overheard by god knows who, his tone carries enough weight for the message to stick with the girls for the rest of their lives. 

James would come and complain how his friends are being treated; how Sirius is crushed under expectations, how Remus (despite being the most competent person his knows) may never get a job, how Lily and Mary are always spoken down to, how Marlene and Dorcas get treated like shit by half the school since going public and how everything just isn’t right. 

And Fleamont would listen, he would listen as his son goes on and on about the injustices of the world and how he can’t understand, why and how? Fleamont feels a little crushed as he hears his son's voice crack as he asks his father for answers that Fleamont knows he can’t give. He and Euphemia tried their best to raise their son to be aware of the issues of the world. And he was aware, he just didn’t know. There are some things that one just has to witness to truly comprehend.

And so Fleamont is honest. “Why? Well, wizarding kind has built itself off of expectations, rules, standards that are meant to uplift our kind and keep us safe. And so that is, what many believe, to be the root of the issues you present. Sirius has so many, too many, expectations placed on him because his family fears the unknown of abandoning the expectations, rules and standards that their ancestors placed however many years ago. Wizards decided centuries ago that werewolves were dangerous and have kept that standard. They also set the standard that old magic, family magic, is superior therefore muggleborns get treated as if they are inferior. The entire standard of old magic comes from the idea of magic being passed down parent to child parent to child through “natural” births and so Marlene and Dorcas may never be treated in a far manner, for where you and I see a happy healthy couple, others see opportunities for magical improvement through magical marriages -and children- ending.”

Cue James adamantly stating how everything his father said is bullshit with no backing. Fleamont calms James down enough to explain to that as high society pureblood men, they have an obligation to those around them to speak up in places that those with less standing aren’t able to. 

Fleamont is an absolute menace in Wizengamot. The Potter family is a gray family, but when it comes to social matters, that man is on the dark family's necks. 

A dark family will propose a new law and give a long winded speech -that is just fear mongering at its finest- only for Monty to speak up at the end to swiftly rebuke every single point that they brought up. 

Why? Because he refuses to allow people to turn the world that his son and his children-in-arms live in into a world of fear. 

[jamespooper]

ya hi it’s harriet with anOTHER ONE god

This my boy James. He was actually the second? rp character I ever took, literally like 9 years ago now! So i’m v excited to be bringing him here bc he’s literally my child :~ )

Info page

Pintrest 

character basics

full name: James Potter

birth date: 27 March 1960

blood status: Pureblood

3 key positive traits: Proud, Charismatic, Daring

3 key negative traits: Impulsive, Boastful, Impatient

FC choice (2 or more, please!): Dev Patel

academics

primary wizarding school & graduation year: London School of Witchcraft 1978

degree & cohort: Spellcasting, Charms cohort - aiming for metal charming / architectural magic

house & year: Gryffindor First Year

rooming request

With the maraaaauders

extracurricular activities

Chaser on Gryffindor Quidditch Team

Warlocks of Great Britain, Junior Chapter (Joining for his Dad, will be a menace)

Duelling Club

all about your kiddo

Growing up, James Potter lived an easy life. Some would call him spoilt, others sheltered – his parents would have insisted on them simply nurturing their only child – a child they had long thought would never be a possibility. Whatever angle you looked at it, his upbringing was full of happy memories, a safe home and two doting parents who helped give him the best life they could. He was a child who wanted for nothing, who grew into a young man used to getting everything he asked for. He was born to parents much older than those of the children who would one day be his classmates. Fleamont and Euphemia Potter, pureblood inventors born to wealth, had given up hope of having a child of their own, so when Euphemia fell pregnant, despite her age, the Potter’s were overwhelmed with joy. As James grew, he was pampered – getting the finest toys and clothes, all the while being taught the importance of respect, loyalty and inclusion. Often sneered upon by their peers for the way they were raising James, the Potters kept going despite it all, and as James grew older and began to understand, he was thankful for it.  

London School of Witchcraft didn’t know what had hit it when a 14-year-old James Potter walked through its doors on the first day of his first school year. With the confidence of an only child, he was outspoken during class, disruptive during lunch, and charmed most he’d meet. Whilst arrogant and boastful, the good values his parents instilled in him persisted. His hexes were reserved for those who truly deserved it, and his fierce loyalty and protectiveness regularly shone through when he felt others being put down. He was in detention for defending his beliefs just as much as he was for the pranks he played around the school. This was all intensified by his friendship with Sirius Black. The other wizard soon became the brother he had never had, and they continued to wreak havoc together. After years of mischief, his teachers all let out a collective sigh of relief, and whispers of good luck for their future professors, when the pair packed up and left for Hogwarts. 

Ever since he was a young boy, James had a desire to explore places he shouldn’t. What started as sneaking into the dilapidated old shed in the back of his parents garden, grew to breaking into abandoned buildings in muggle London after classes. The empty structures brought sparks of adventure, the excitement of being where he shouldn’t only multiplied by the story behind it all. When the time came to choose his degree, it only made sense that he seek this excitement further, deciding on a Spellcasting degree with the hope to one day focus on architectural magic.  

extra credit

James is a morning person, who also loves to sleep. Rising early, with an afternoon nap, is the perfect sleep pattern for him

Halloween is his favourite holiday (</3)

When he gets nervous he fiddles  with his glasses - lots of pushing them up his nose, readjusting them, taking them off to polish them with his shirt

His wand is an 11”, Dragon Heartstring, Mahogany, Pliable

His dad is his best friend and he’d go to the ends of the earth to make his parents happy

James is SUCH an Aries - independent, a leader, protective, zero patience, idealistic and passionate

James would die for Puddlemere United

He would also probably die for Celestina Warbeck

[prongsismyfave]

just lovely 🥰

basic maths

Euphemia Potter once endured the Cruciatus curse for a staggering five minutes without uttering so much as a whimper. Rumour has it that when the Death Eaters finally relented, she stood tall, flashed them a smile, and put her hair in a ponytail before disapparating, as if she could have done it all along. (The two Death Eaters responsible were found dead two days later, allegedly having both fallen off of a roof. James asked about the circumstances surrounding that exactly one time before deciding it was better not to know some things about his mothers extracurricular activities.) “James!” The familiar rhythm of Euphemia’s knock echoes through his bedroom door, the distinct sound of her meticulously manicured nails successfully ruining James’s sleep (and most likely soon-to-be his life, if past experience proves anything). “If you’re naked, put some clothes on. I need to speak with you.” “Mum,” he grumbles, fumbling for his glasses on the bedside table. His fingers miss their mark, sending the spectacles tumbling to the floor. Instead, he retrieves his wand, momentarily contemplating the consequences of hexing his mother through the door—would it be the Ministry or Euphemia who proved more formidable? “James! I’m opening the door in five seconds. You better not be wanking to one of Sirius’s magazines.”  In that moment, James concludes that while Euphemia may indeed be the more daunting adversary, the potential repercussions might just be worth the risk. The door swings open, and Euphemia breezes into the room. Even without his glasses, James can sense her presence—her regal demeanour, the jingle of her extravagant jewellery, the soft rustle of her robes against the rug. She’s either been awake for hours or slept in the ridiculously ensemble. Neither of those options is entirely far-fetched from who James knows his mother to be. “You know,” she begins, and he barely manages to move his legs before she settles on his bed where they were before, “when your father and I first got married—” James doesn’t manage to suppress his groan. It’s too bloody early for this. “—he insisted on staying in London and it was almost a breaking point. I told him, ‘Flea. You can’t raise a family in the rain.’ I almost left him, James.” “No, you bloody didn’t,” he mutters. His mother has many talents: campaigning, duelling, and creating drama where it is absolutely not necessary. James’s glasses hit him sharply in the face and he knows without looking that she’s summoned them silently. He also knows the force with which they hit his cheek was absolutely intentional. keep reading on ao3