Dear past me, you're such an idiot

            Dear past me, You’re such an idiot.   James read the first rows and stoped. He turned arount to see his wife. His Lily (the thought Lily was his was so non-beliavable, non-reachable, James still coulden’t beliave she stayed with him, she forgave him after everything he’ve done) was sleeping in the sofa. Her belly still was hardly noticeable, but there was something… homely in the way she caressed, spoke with their child when noone saw… James sniffed.          You was sorted to Griffendor because of your brave (it’s your’s), but your pride was bigger than most Slytherins’ one. Becides, you showed your bad side so many times, if anyone knew this you’d be shame for the whole house.    This was a true. He remembered, how he’d written this letter a year ago, in the same room, at the same table, and Lily was the same close. She was sitting on the window, and James gave her quick gazes, as his insparator. They were speaking throw the whole evening that time. They had a fight before this – it was one of their largest fight throw they knew each other – than they were silent a few days, than tried to put up,          And about your common pranks and jokes. You, as well as other marauders always made it out of the boundaries. Two left teachers, five year Slytherin in Mungo and bombed toiler were too much. About your walks with Lupin… why you, dumbs couldn’t think, what would happen if you lost the control for a second?   Shortly before the letter James, as well as Sirius, Frank Longbottom and Moody made raids for werewolves – those that were Voldemort’s supporters. And, even though Grayback managed to slipp away, in the last moment, They caugh his gand. James remembered their dog, blood and rot smell, bones around, non-human eyes… Lupin was different, of course, but they didn’t know what can happen to him.          Yes, James Fleamont Potter, you were a full dumb! And also a blockhead, a fool, and just an ass, or rather, a deer!   The corners of James's lips twitched. From the outside, it might have seemed that he was showing off, speaking of himself in such dark colors, but he clearly remembered that he had written honestly. And not out of youthful maximalism. The reason was different. Reason was sitting on the windowsill and frowning, reading.                     You’d started to get some sort of brain in the last years. Or rather, you finally learned how to use it, it wasn’t too late, thanks, Merlin. In any other ways you won’t get Lily Evans.        First years you were more than a fool. Why on earth you decide that the best way to show off is to joke, make fun of her, constantly try to pinch her, take her things and make her cry of your ‘tricks’? What kind of deer were you, if only Mrs. McGonagall’s ‘Showing feelings to girls should not be this way, Potter. And not in my lesson!’ could get throw you?   James smiled. He’d already forgotten, that his ‘Evans, Evans… EVANS’ on the third year had started with Decan’s suggestion.        Why didn’t you try to at least think about what she told to you? Why were so confident, that thought she’ll pay her attention to you only because you’re popular? Why you, finally decided that you’ll get her respect by fighting with Snape?   James sighed heavily. Lily was the one who opened his eyes to it. She’d been speaking this since thirteen years, but he began to listen to it seriously after the ‘Mudblood’ only. He was trying to understand her in the last years, but the real true came last year. James remembered that evening, when they went through his school life, with Lily’s suggestion, and he’d ruffled his hair and constantly asked, "Did we really do that?", "Did I say that?", "Was I like that?", and Lily had nodded.         Why, why did you bully her best friend? Yes, you didn’t like each other from the first meet, yes it was far before you tried to date Evans, yes, Snape a real bastard in many ways, but it doesn’t mean that you didn’t behave like bastard much more.  James looked back at Lily. He needed to gather some more bravery before his confession.       Only a complete bastard can attack a person with one to four. Bastard or coward, but you weren’t coward, you calmly fought him one to one as well, you were a bastard, who liked to be stronger. To feel the support from friends, glory in the crowd, to be under everyone’s attention…       Only a bastard and a narcissistic idiot can assert himself at the expense of others! Only bastard and egoist can feel satisfaction from other’s humiliation! After all, after all generous excuses you had (like Severus's passion for the Dark Arts or rumors that he wants to join the Dark Lord), somewhere deep you had a desire to show off, to play around, to win! Well, are you happy? Happy, that Lily cried because of ‘mudblood’ next half a year?   James curled his fingers into fists. He remembered. He remembered everything. He closed his eyes and saw the dejected red-haired figure under the tree, lonely, miserable. He saw the emerald eyes shining with tears. He heard the reluctant "What do you want, Potter" and a ringing voice. James knew he could never forget it. Never.   Remember how Lily told you ‘you’re not better that he’? She was right, right a hundred times! You both were, and the fact that Snape was a bastard doesn’t excuse you! James painfully bit his hand. Honest rows looked at him. They blamed him. He blamed himself. Espesialy when he thought of the Snape, which he saw in one of the raids and nearly was hexed with his ‘sectumsempra’. He could became like him! Talented, pure-blooded, from a rich family – wasn’t the perfect Death Eater?          You was a big bastard, James Potter. And you don’t deserve anything you have. FaithfulPadfoot, who would give everything for you, patient Moony, who spent so many nerves on you all, caring Wormtail, who never stopped you and Sirius from shining, and Lily. Lily, wonderful, talented, kind, strong, faithful… The best girls in the world chose you. And you have to, you hear, have to make it she won’t regret it. I beg you: stop being idiot,        Don’t betray your friends,        Take care of Lily                                     Nineteen years old me.   James took a quil. Slowly opened the inkwell. Took a deep breath.   He added ‘Take care of children’ under ‘of Lily’ one. He somehow knew the first will be a son. After this, a couple years later they can think about a dautcher. And James knew: although he’been an idiot at the time, he’ll do everything to improve himself. And his children’ll be proud of him. ‘Till the end.