He grins a little at that, pleased. He hasn't been in a very good place for a while now and James was starting to think that was just going to be how things are now, but a five minute conversation with this girl already has him smiling more than he has in a month. His failure with the broom would be almost forgotten, if not for the splintered bits of wood still lazily lapping at the edge of the lake.

"There's not much to tell when everyone else around you is a wizard, too," he admits, shaking his head. Maybe for the muggle-borns things are a little different, but it had never occurred to James that the things he could do were special or worth telling anyone about. "We didn't associate with Muggles much." Or at all, really, until the war. Then it had been practically impossible not to, always having to Obliviate any who spotted them mid-duel. Voldemort had no qualms about the Muggles seeing and fearing magic, nor did any of his followers, and he knows it had taken up half the Ministry's time just making sure their secret stayed contained as much as possible.

She doesn't seem to believe him for a second about staying out of trouble though, which is a fair assessment. All in all James has been rather innocent in recent years, but it would take a lot to scrub the streak out completely. There's been so much going on he hasn't had the time for the sort of trouble he used to get into, and when the war broke out and he became a father something shifted. He's not always sure if it was for the better, but he knows he's a different man now to the one who flooded the Charms corridor in fifth year.

"Mostly innocent," he amends. "Other than falling into lakes and scaring people's horses."