the_debt_of_time

"You don't need Quidditch supplies," Mia scolded him. "First years aren't allowed
to play."
"Then I'll be pretty famous when I make the team, won't I? Youngest Chaser in a
century! That's what they'll call me," he said smugly.
"You're incorrigible," Mia said, laughing.
While she knew James would not become the youngest Chaser in a century, she felt
a strange bit of pride in knowing that Harry would carry on James's Quidditch dream. Even
if the sport was a ridiculous waste of time and an excuse to be barbaric. Was it too much
to ask to deal with a boy, just one boy in her entire life, who was not obsessed with the
insane excuse for a sport?
"Flourish and Blotts first, and then I'll agree to accompany you to your little broom
shop. It's not like we even have money to buy anything just yet. We're only browsing while
waiting for Mum."
James looked to be okay with the small compromise, and the two headed toward
the bookshop.
A thin, sallow-faced woman stormed past Mia on the right, her feet stomping a little
as she sped forward. She glanced back once, dark circles beneath her eyes and an exhausted
scowl fixed to her jaw. "Severus, hurry, your father wants us back before noon!"
Severus?
Mia turned around to follow the woman's line of sight, but as she moved she
collided with someone, losing her balance, and gripped the only thing within reach to keep
from falling: a threadbare coat.
"Don't touch me!" the boy she had run into shouted.
She looked up into a pale face draped in black hair, and dark eyes narrowed at her.
Shocked at the familiar sneer, she let go of his coat and mumbled out a quick, "Oh, I'm so
sorry."
His gaze narrowed angrily before shoving her out of his way. "Watch where you're
going!"
Mia tripped backward, still awkward and unused to her smaller frame. She tried to
recover her balance but fell to the cobblestone road, skinning her knees and scratching her
palms against the rough surface of the street.
"Hey! Don't shove my sister!" James yelled, rushing forward.