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Bright blue and white lines filled his vision above him, blocking out the sun he was using to bring his amber skin to a deeper tan. The sun was a precious commodity back home and James planned to take full advantage of their holiday to Morocco to bring his genetically tan skin to an even richer level.
"Mum," he complained, sitting up propped on his elbows, "Why'd you move the umbrella?"
"You'll burn, dearest," Euphemia responded matter-of-factly. "And if you burn you'll be insufferable until we get back to the cottage for the aloe and your father's sunburn cream."
"I'm not insufferable." James pouted his lip expertly, but his mum knew what he was about and ignored him in favor of her copy of the Prophet.
"You most certainly are, James, and I'm sure your father would agree." Euphemia appeared for a moment from behind her paper. The small smile beneath overlarge sunglasses gave her away to her only son.
James returned his mother's smile and put up a few more expected teenaged protests before consenting to apply more sunblock and letting her cast a discreet temporary sticking charm on the lotion before he wandered off towards the ocean. A wave rushed up to meet him as he sprinted towards the waterline and nearly knocked him over. Mixed in with the screams of small children and the shouts of a volleyball game a few hundred meters down the beach were the cries of gulls and James's own sputtering laughter.
A myriad of languages surrounded him as he continued to wade and backstroke his way between groups of other tourists and locals enjoying the summer sunshine. He wished his mother had cast a translation spell for him but she'd put her foot down. Too many Muggles may find it too extraordinary that a fifteen year old boy could understand and converse in more than ten different languages.
When he felt the heat of the sun a bit too sharply on his shoulders a voice that sounded suspiciously like Euphemia's admonished him to go back up to reapply sunscreen. A sharp shake of his head made droplets of water spray around him in a wide arc. Wide enough, it seemed, to land on someone sunbathing down the way from his picnic basket.
"Watch it," hissed one of the two girls next to him.
James stopped, intending to apologize, but the words froze on his lips when he recognized the two. Appearing like the opposite sides to one of Sirius's ying yang amulets the younger Black sisters looked up from their beach towels. Bellatrix and Narcissa had their hair piled atop their heads to allow for their very bare backs to acquire the same amount of attention from the sun. James swallowed and tried very hard not to notice the constellations of freckles covering the skin of the paler sister.
"Potter?" spat Bellatrix, pulling down her sunglasses to glare at him disdainfully. "Piss off, blood traitor!"
Narcissa nudged her sister with her elbow. "Bella, be quiet! Who knows what the Muggles can hear behind the barriers?"
James grinned, folding his arms across his still damp chest. "You're not within the barriers, Black. I'm afraid you've both wandered into Muggle territory."
There wasn't much difference between the pink of the girls' blushes and the effects the sun was having on their pale skin, but it was nothing compared to James' blush as they stood as one. Bella swiped up her towel in a swift and angry motion, slinging it over her shoulder. She made no move to replace the top of her two piece suit. He wasn't sure that her topless state was entirely allowed on this portion of the beach but in a huff she turned and stalked away (as well as one could in soft sand).
James averted his eyes from the long legged form moving away from him and glanced briefly at the youngest Black still gathering up the rest of their picnic items.
"Let me help," he said, leaning over to place their cold drinks back into the cooling-charm powered basket. Brushing away some of the sand from the bottle he managed to get some of it in his eye in his haste to assist. "Fuck!"
"You shouldn't speak that way in front of a lady," muttered Narcissa. James held a hand over his left eye where most of the sand had flown and with a long-suffering sigh she reached over with a clean corner of her towel to wipe some of it away.
Her hands were ice cold compared to the burning sand beneath his feet. "What, you're not afraid to touch a blood-traitor like me?"
"When you're not acting like an absolute tosser? You're still a pureblood you prat," she countered. "Ugh, hold still! Accio!"
"Fuck!" James couldn't help but allow a few tears escape to accompany the feeling of hundreds of grains of sand flying out of his eye.
"You're welcome, Potter," she sneered, standing up and marching away with the rest of the picnic things gathered in her arms. Somehow between the time her sister had stalked away with her breasts bared to all and sundry the blonde had found time to replace her top and a flowing peach sundress on top of that.
"Hey, Black!" he called out, one hand still over his eye as it continued to water of its own volition. "Wizarding side is the other way!"
Narcissa stopped short, turning to look at the boy still sitting on the sand with a cheshire grin and delightfully tousled hair. The little brute had allowed her sister to wander off even further into territory where she was undoubtedly going to start a stir. Perhaps bringing her sister to a tourist-filled Casablanca for a pre-bachelorette weekend was not her brightest idea.
"You're welcome, Black," was the cheeky shout behind her after she turned to chase after Bellatrix before she made a mess of things.