If you had asked James Potter a week ago where Chicago was, he would have given you a very odd look, shrugged, and gone on with his life. Though he doesn't know it, he is about to become intimately acquainted with Chicago -- specifically, with Grant Park. He's in a wooded area which, at first glance, doesn't seem too different from the wooded
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There's the fiancée in question, gaping at him in disbelief from the sidewalk. It's been months since she saw him, and she had almost given up hope that he might show up one day, and now here he is - thinner than she remembers, and unusually scruffy, but that's her James, and that's his wand, and she would know him anywhere.
"James!"
Here, Mr. Potter. Have a Lily-cling.
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"Lily?" He finally says after a minute, still inspecting her to make sure no important bits have gone and disappeared or anything. "Lils, is it really you?"
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"I missed you too, Lils. Didn't stop looking for you or Pads," he says, with a bit of a sheepish look. "That is, until I got here. ....Where is here?"
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When she sees James, she considers leaving him be. He could be a conducting student or something, after all, but the look on his face makes her reconsider. She stops comfortably out of grabbing range. "Um, excuse me? Are you okay?"
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"I'm afraid they haven't worked out ways to reverse them yet."
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"I, uh -- sorry. I must look like a nutter." He sticks his wand back in his pocket, so he knows it's close at hand just in case. "I'm James Potter."
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