Twisted Love | James Potter

𝒳𝐿𝐼𝒳

"I don't know what I'd do if I got you hurt, James"

"It's colder than Dumble's balls right now!" Peter exclaimed out to the small group of three on the snowy valley as his teeth clattered between each word, ignoring the pat and scoff of humoured disgust from Ephie.

He, James, Sirius, and Euphemia all shivered and complained about the frigid weather as they forced themselves to sit on the back porch as 'emotional support' for Del, Remus, and Fleamont.

After the fireplace incident, it was decided that it'd be safest to begin practising on how to manage Del. First they needed to figure out how, or what she needed to do to even ignite the fire in the first place, which was why the three were all now standing in a triangle around a large stack of wood. The weather was biting at all their noses as snow and ice particles clung to their lashes and hair, all they wanted was to go back inside and be warm again, yet this seemed harder than what they thought since now she couldn't even make a spark.

"This is too much pressure. I can't do it." Del groaned out with annoyance as she felt the humiliation rise to her cheeks, yet thankfully with the frigid winds, the redness simply blended in with the irritation that surrounded her face. She felt mortified. They were all doing this for her, yet she was hardly letting them help.

"Yes you can, Del. Don't focus too hard on it, just think about how much you want to be warm right now." Remus pleaded, even he couldn't lie, the cold was beginning to get this nervous system and as he rubbed his gloved hands together he had to dismiss the thought to cast a quick and simple 'incendio' and call it a day.

"Let's just give it a rest, at this rate we'll all get bloody hypothermia before I can even burn a twig. This is ridiculous, I can't do this, it's too cold out and I'm tired, and Merlin, do I want a cigarette right now." Del whined out as she furiously rubbed her arms to retain her warmth, only stopping and smiling bright and gratefully when Fleamont passed the young girl one from his pack. Usually, when there were lurking eyes at least, he would try to refrain from supporting an addiction at such a young age, yet something told him that this would do the trick as he remembered the last time he spoke with Del one on one.

"So how did this all start, or how did you find out? I mean, was this sudden or has it been happening for a while?" Remus wondered aloud and as Del placed the cig in her mouth she frowned and pondered on the question. Was she always able to do this? When did it all really start? As Del tried to think back on anytime she could've done something unexplainable, the two men watched her in both awe and relief.

"I'm drawing a blank here, Rem." Del confessed with a sigh, a cloud of smoke following behind each word before she went back for another deep inhale and tapped out the ash onto the perfect snow. The rush of nicotine seared through her veins and she allowed her next few breaths to be long and slow, enjoying each part of the small head rush.

"Really?" Remus asked dumbfoundedly, he even had to look over and double-check with Fleamont to confirm that what he saw just happened, that as she was mid denial, mid-tantrum of 'not being able to do it', her cigarette magically sparked a flame. Fleamont only shook his head at the scarred boy with amusement, this wasn't his first time seeing this, yet he didn't ever think it'd ever get old.

"Hey, sweetheart-" Fleamont started as he interrupted the girl's smoke break, she looked up with interest, and though it took her a few moments of confusion, Del finally looked to where his and Remus' eyes were staring; gasping with a mixture of relief and joy she looked at the red hot ash in awe, "Concentrate about what you want, Del. Do you want us all to stay out here cold off our arses? Or do you want to light the fire and get back inside?" He joked, watching Del's eyes light up with glee as she quickly directed them towards the wood. Everyone expected there to be a few moments of silence or struggle, yet within seconds, flames sprouted like vines from beneath the wood; each open crevasse would be quickly filled like snakes slithering through tight canals.