[James wakes up in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar house- with a very familiar-looking redhead sleeping next to him. He's scared to wake her- what if it's Lily? What if it's not?
Instead, he puts on the slippers some kind soul has left next to his bed. He looks for his wand, but can't find it. This is a bad sign. "Accio wand" doesn't work
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James Potter?!
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T-this is Molly Weasley, dear.
[longest pause ever]
Though I'm afraid her good sense has left the building, seeing as she's starting to hear the voices of good people who have no right to be quite so...chatty.
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And... no, I don't think it's you. I'm pretty sure I'm dead. Or I should be, at least.
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[squiiiiiiiiiiiint]
Is this one of those...'bridging the gap experiences' rabble that Witches Weekly is all too fond of writing in between my stories?
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Have you been to see Harry yet?
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I--- he's here?
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He's--- how old is he? Where is he?
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He just turned seventeen. And don't you worry about the watch! I gave him Fabian's. It's a little older, but still perfectly decent.
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I--- thank you, Molly.
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[fully crying now]
It's so - [sniff!] - wonderful to hear from you again, James.
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