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james potter loved his mother. he did.
euphemia potter was a beautiful woman, even if she couldn’t see it for herself. before she had given birth to james, even before she was pregnant with him, anyone who laid eyes on her knew she was gorgeous.
now, she still looked beautiful. she couldn’t see it.
after she gave birth to james, her body changed. it grew larger, but still skinny - a skinny fat, almost.
(james hated that phrase.)
euphemia (mia, as she preferred to be called) hated how she looked.
the amount of diets she went on just to try and change how she looked, and it was all for naught. james thought she looked beautiful, but apparently he was wrong.
james had many cousins, seeing as the potter family was quite large on mia’s side, and he was close with his aunts and uncles and cousins. so close, in fact, that he, as one of the youngest, often got compared with the elder cousins.
he got compared to, by his mum, one of the elder female cousins the most. james thought she was pretty, and he hoped he would look as good-looking as her one day. he liked being compared to her, most of the time, with her kind personality and her funny jokes.
but he hated being compared to her when mia commented on her body. when the two of them would chat for ages and ages, with james there to listen, about the next diet she should go on, about how she needed to let go of her love for food.
james wondered if maybe he should diet.
but it didn’t matter, not really, because his cousin was still beautiful, and so was his mum, and his mum just needed to see she was beautiful.
his aunt made a gorgeous scrapbook of one of his cousin’s for her birthday. it had pictures of the entire potter extended family in it, and james was entranced by the workmanship. it looked absolutely brilliant.
mia ruined the moment ( of course she did, james’ mind muttered before he shut it down) by commenting on her own body.
god, i looked so skinny there! she laughed, but james could hear the wistful tone, the self-hatred, and he quickly turned the page.
you look even better now. he said. his mum hummed, but clearly didn’t believe him.
that’s fine. james still loved his mum.
james didn’t love food anymore. he hated the fat on his body, he hated hated hated it and he needed it to go. but how could he make it go without a scale to measure his efforts?
he secretly bought a scale, using it for months before mia found out.
she asked him if he was worried about his weight. he was half honest.
a bit, yeah.
how much do you weigh?
james felt sick. the numbers flashed and flashed like a red stop light in his mind, telling him how heavy he was, and he lied.
i don’t know. it’s been a while since i checked.
his mum just nodded.
a few days later, james asked his mum if she could help him eat healthier.
she jumped at the opportunity. she liked to comment on how his diet was practically all carbs, and he was so good for wanting to try and make it more diverse!
he wrote a list of the foods he liked, the picky eater that he was (because some foods textures were horrid, and he didn’t like sauce on anything and he didn’t like mixing things or it would be wrong wrong wrong), and his mum suggested other foods for him to try that were similar.
she didn’t ask why all of a sudden he wanted to eat healthier. she just seemed incredibly happy that he wanted to.
(james wanted to cry.)
he got more and more anxious at every moment spent alone with his mum. he couldn’t handle hearing about weight, about bad days when those bad days were his regular days, about risking it and having some sweets just for once, no no no.
he did not want his mum to act surprised when he turned down food, laughing as though he were joking. he did not want his mum to comment on his choice of peas as a side, because why was that such a shock? why did the entire family have to hear that?
he did not want his mum to give him some food, and then exclaim how he had eaten so much and how on earth can he do that?
but he gave her the benefit of the doubt. he loved his mum.
(they’d gotten in an argument, and his mum accused james of resenting her.
no, of course he didn’t resent her. he couldn’t!
james loved his mum. he didn’t resent her.)
james and mia went out for james’ birthday, to the theatre and then out for dinner.
it was a couple of weeks after james’ birthday, but still, they wanted to enjoy the day together and so they did.
they picked out sweets (he felt so so anxious but his mum was trying to treat him he couldn’t say no) together and ate them whilst at the theatre. he didn’t finish the sweets, but he did finish his chocolate.
(he felt disgusting.)
they went out for dinner at a restaurant, and james asked his mum what she wanted for a starter.
oh, i don’t think i fancy a starter today.
but james couldn’t backtrack now. he had already asked for something, if he backtracked she would know. he offered to share, and thankfully she agreed, and then they ordered pizzas.
mia assured him throughout the meal that he didn’t have to finish it, over and over and over and over and james got it.
(he was always pushed to finish his food as a child. he was slowly unlearning that, through the help of his absolute best friend in the world, sirius black, but it was taking a while.
in the presence of mia, he felt pressured.
he finished the pizza.)
the entire way back to the train station, mia kept commenting on her food.
gosh, i’m so full.
james felt like screaming.
he mentioned to mia on the train back his plans for when they return home.
i think i’ll walk the dog, he won’t have been walked yet, i don’t think. it’s quite nice to walk through the park at this hour.
walking the dog will be good exercise for all that food you ate!
james felt ill again.
he nodded, giving a half-hearted laugh.
mia met with one of her best friends as they entered the house, the two of them going to go clothes shopping straight away.
mia made her same little joke to her friend.
james is taking the dog out in a minute. he needs to work off those starters he ate!
her friend laughed with mia. james forced himself to laugh with them, the sickness inside him growing even more, before quickly grabbing his keys and headphones from his room and taking the dog out.
he continuously made detours, exiting the park and walking along the main roads purely to walk for longer.
he made the usual 3000 step walk (because he needed to count) into a 6000 step walk. was it enough?
never. he didn’t tell mia, he wouldn’t. but if it wasn’t enough for him, it would never be enough for her.
he felt really, really sick.
james potter didn’t hate his mother.
but he wasn’t quite sure that he loved her, either.