(Untitled)

[notthatpotter]

When James Sirius Potter finds himself wandering into the bar this day, he is not the same boy he once was

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[followfootsteps]

Blink.

This newcomer looks familiar.

Teddy may be trying to figure out who he is.

[notthatpotter]

"I can't look that much different, can I?" James asks, tilting his head a bit with an amused grin.

[followfootsteps]

Teddy's hair is slowly starting to stick up, becoming threaded with streaks of turqoise.

"... Well, that's one hell of a growth spurt."

[notthatpotter]

He shrugs, letting out a laugh.

"Guess that's one way of putting it," James says. "Hullo, Teddy."

[followfootsteps]

"Hey. Want to sit?"

[notthatpotter]

"Yeah." he says. "Then we could catch up - or something like that. They still serve us whatever we want here?"

[followfootsteps]

"Pretty much, yeah."

[notthatpotter]

"Good, good. I think I'll take a butterbeer for old time's sake."

He pauses.

"So. You've - uh, been doing well?"

That's such an odd question to ask. He'd only seen Teddy - appropriately aged, of course - a couple weeks ago, his time.

[followfootsteps]

"Yes. How have the last ..." He squints, then decides just to guess. "Five or six years been for you?"

[notthatpotter]

"Not bad," he replies, grinning slightly. "A bit of a blur, really. Just a whole lot of school, and Quidditch and family things during the summers. But I'm nearly done."

[followfootsteps]

"Sounds like fun. Sort of. The Quidditch bit, at least." Beat. Grin. "What am I like in your time, then? Drunk, living on the streets, et cetera?"

[notthatpotter]

"Oh, absolutely. You've got this really cozy box down in Surrey, in fact. We visit you there sometimes just to toss you a sickle. But you can get pretty mean when you've had a bit too much firewhiskey."