This is for the Pumpkin Pastie Eating Contest on the Reviews Corner Forum with the prompt 'supercalifragilisticexpialidocious'.

I'm not too good with happy or romantic writing, but here goes! Tell me what you think.

I don't own Mary Poppins. Or Harry Potter, for that matter. I just own Katherine.

I was four when I discovered the wonders of muggle technology. My second-favourite cousin, Katherine, was taking muggle studies and she began telling me stories of phellytones and ekeltricity. I was entranced, urging her to tell me more. Every single day that I saw her, I'd beg for another tale of magic that wasn't magical. Words that were so foreign to my lips that I stumbled over the sounds; concepts that I didn't have a clue about; things that muggles could do but wizards couldn't. But that wasn't possible … surely wizards, being the better race, could do anything that muggles could?

But during the Christmas holidays, Katherine came up to me with a grin on her face.

"Kathie, what's a rubber duck for? I saw one in the shop window. Is it a muggle device? Is it like a house elf? That's what Dad thought."

"I'll tell you about rubber ducks another time, James. For now, we're going to the pictures."

"The pictures?" I asked, curious as to why we would want to see some pictures anyway. Most of the paintings in our house were of our ancestors, and I'd seen them all before.

"The pictures. You'll see."

And so we went through the muggle town I lived near, to a huge building. It was quite squat, with only one or two floors, but wide, and the glass double doors were open and inviting. Above the doors were advertisements for things with the most bizarre names: James Bond: Goldfinger, and Mary Poppins and other puzzling titles.

"We, James Potter, are here to watch a movie." Katherine announced.

"A movie?"

"A movie. Come on."

And so we watched a movie. I was flabbergasted as I watched what seemed to be a play performed by people in a huge portrait. But Katherine assured me that it wasn't portrait, or anything using magic at all. The muggles, who didn't have any access to magic, had this wondrous invention, and the wizarding world didn't? How could it be so? For surely only magic could produce such a result.

I was still gaping as Mary Poppins flew off the screen with her umbrella.

I am not ashamed to say that I became absolutely obsessed with Mary Poppins, and with Katherine busy, I approached my mother.

"How could Mary Poppins do all those magical things with no wand?"

"I don't know, James."

"And her bag definitely had an undetectable extension charm. Cousin Kathie said it didn't."

"I'm sure Katherine knows what she's talking about."

"And how could she fly with an umbrella? Who would make an umbrella magical, of all things? Why didn't she just use a broom or a flying carpet?"

"James, I don't know. Why don't you go and ask Katherine?"

"Katherine is busy studying for owls. She wants to get everything right."

"Owls? O. , Jamesie. That'll be you one day, when you're older and going to Hogwarts."

"Will I get everything right?"

"Of course. You'll be brilliant."

"I'll be … I'll be super … supercalifragilisticexpidociousally. Wait, I think I said it wrong."

Mum smiled at me questioningly. "That's a peculiar word, James."

"Yes. Mary Poppins says it's the greatest word ever."

It's Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!
Even though the sound of it
Is something quite atrocious

"I think it's a lovely offer. They're being ever so kind."

"I think it's supercauliflour… no. Supercalifragidocious… no. It's sup-"

"James, stop using that atrocious word!"

At first, Mr and Mrs Potter had found it cute and funny when I used the word, but now they dreaded his generous use of it.

If you say it loud enough
You'll always sound precocious

"Granny, I'll think you'll find it's not great. It's not simply marvellous. The word is supercalifragilisticdociousexpiali. No, that's wrong…"

I started insisting that it was the only word to be used as a positive adjective. I thought I was the smartest four-year-old around, and I was proud of my new favourite word, even if I couldn't pronounce it.

Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!

"That's right, James. You've almost got it! A bit higher? Clever boy."

"No. Not clever. Supercaliexpialifragilisticocious. Wait, no. Supercali…"

Um-dittle-ittl-um-dittle-I
Um-dittle-ittl-um-dittle-I
Um-dittle-ittl-um-dittle-I
Um-dittle-ittl-um-dittle-I

"Supercali… supercalifragilocious. No, superfragilistic. No…"

Because I was afraid to speak
When I was just a lad

I was anything but afraid to speak. Every visitor that entered the house, whether it be Granny or the Minister of Magic, I'd make sure they knew what the greatest word ever was. I used it as much as I could, managing to incorporate it into any conversation.

Me father gave me nose a tweak
And told me I was bad

"James, you have to stop. You're correcting important people and it isn't polite to do that."

"You mean it isn't supercalifragilocious. No, that isn't right. Supercalifragilisticaliexpiocious. Wait, no … almost."

But then one day I learned a word
That saved me aching nose

"SUPERCALIFRAGILISTICEXPIALIDOCIOUS! I got it! Daddy, I got it right, did you hear? Did you hear what I said, Mummy? Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!"

The biggest word you ever heard
And this is how it goes

"Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, supercaliexpialidocious. Wait, no! No, I forgot it! No!"

Oh, supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!
Even though the sound of it
Is something quite atrocious

"James, I'm going to teach you how to fly." Fleamont Potter said, a smile lighting up his face.

"To fly? Like Mary Poppins?"

Dad's smile melted. "Oh, Merlin. Not that atrocious Mary Poppins again." he muttered, sighing. "Not quite like that, James. With a broomstick."

"Oh. Can I try with an umbrella?"

If you say it loud enough
You'll always sound precocious

"Yes, James. Lean forwards a little and press down on the handle. Perfect. Try to slow down again."

"Mary Poppins doesn't need to do this! She just hold the umbrella up and BAM! She's gone." I yelled from twenty feet in the air. Even two years later, at the age of six, I still talked of the amazing Mary Poppins.

"Well, one day you can be like that, but for now you're learning."

Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!

The wind whistled in my ears, ruffling my hair. My joints felt relaxed even as I clutched to the broomstick, and my robes rustled around me. My head cleared and felt lighter than a feather, as if all negativeness had been erased from my mind. I whooped in sheer joy. "It's brilliant! It's amazing! It's supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!"

Um-dittle-ittl-um-dittle-I
Um-dittle-ittl-um-dittle-I
Um-dittle-ittl-um-dittle-I
Um-dittle-ittl-um-dittle-I

Years passed, and finally I forgot about Katherine and about the movies and Mary Poppins in the frantic blur that was my Hogwarts schooling. I just remembered that word. That magical word that was created by those who weren't even magic. Pureblooded wizards and witches looked at me in confusion when I used such a strange saying, but halfbloods and muggleborns would smile or they would giggle or they would snort in surprise.

He traveled all around the world and everywhere he went
He'd use his word and all would say there goes a clever gent

"Remus, I think that is a supercalifragilisticexpialidocious idea. Let's do it."

Remus had stared, openmouthed. "How do you know that word?"

I just winked.

When dukes and Maharajahs pass the time of day with me
I say my special word and then they ask me out to tea

"Lily, wouldn't it be just supercalifragilisticexpialidocious if you came to Hogsmeade with me next weekend?"

Lily Evans stared. "You … that ... that's my favourite movie!"

"Really? I love it, too."

"Yes."

"What?"

"Yes. Let's go to Hogsmeade this Sunday."

"Wait, what? You will?"

Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!
Even though the sound of it
Is something quite atrocious

Sirius looked at me in horror. "What?"

"Lily's coming to Hogsmeade with me. Isn't it supercalifragilisticexpialidocious?"

"Never use that word in my presence again."

If you say it loud enough
You'll always sound precocious

"Isn't it wonderful? Isn't it great? Isn't it supercalifragilisticexpialidocious?"

Remus rolled his eyes. Yes, James. brilliant."

"Not brilliant. Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious."

Remus snorted and rolled his eyes again.

Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!
Um-dittle-ittl-um-dittle-I
Um-dittle-ittl-um-dittle-I
So when the cat has got your tongue

"Hi, James."

"What? I...I, um…"

There's no need for dismay
Just summon up this word
And then you've got a lot to say

"You look … you look supercalifragilisticexpialidocious."

Lily raised an eyebrow. "That's not going to impress me, James. You have to do better than that."

But better use it carefully
Or it can change your life

I finished Hogwarts and Lily and I both joined the Order of the Phoenix. Life was yet again hectic, but she was there for me, a steady light against the darkness of war. I found myself falling further for her than I ever had in my school years. She became the only thing - excluding the other Marauders of course - that really mattered to me. I was completely under her spell.

What had once been a word to impress or to annoy became a word I only used to express love for my closest friends and family, and no-one was more worthy of such a word as Lily. Her voice was soothing and her touch was healing and she was the only reason I didn't go completely mad in such a dark time.

One night I said it to me girl and now me girls my wife

"Lily?"

"Yeah?"

"You are supercalifragilisticexpialidocious."

"Mmmm?"

"And I wondered if, I mean, I would be extremely honoured if - in your supercalifragilisticexpialidociousness - you would be … be my wife?"

I stared at her, the tension in the room like an elastic band ready to ping into my eye. I stared at her lips, that was ever so soft; I stared at her eyes, sparkling a perfect emerald green; I stared at her hair, a resplendent red; I stared at her, at her who I loved and who was so alluring and angelic and divine and bewitching and … no. She wasn't anything that can be described with such words. Lily Evans was supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. And if she refused this, if I couldn't have her, I thought I would probably die from longing.

She laughed, a sound like sweet silver bells, like the music of angels. "You, James Potter, are supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, and I would love to live with that forever."

Oh! And a lovely thing she is too.
She's Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!