"Ron!" Harry Potter bellowed through the open front door of his best friend's house. "Ron!"
"Bloody hell!" Ron Weasley clambered down the staircase directly in front of the door. Half his face was covered in shaving cream and he held a muggle razor in his hand. Harry reflected silently that in almost thirty years of knowing him, Ron remained as predictable as a broken clock as far as his choice of profanity.
"You've got to help me!" Harry cried, leaping forward in urgency as he suddenly remembered what had brought him to his best friend's house at eight o'clock on a Wednesday morning. From his pocket he procured a piece of parchment, already creased and wrinkled though it had arrived only yesterday. It was a letter from Harry's fifteen-year-old daughter Lily, who would be returning home from Hogwarts in two days for Christmas.
"What's the matter?" Ron asked, his eyes widening slightly as he looked uneasily at the letter in Harry's hand. "Who's that from? Did something happen?"
"Yes!" Harry yelled, aggravated that Ron hadn't grasped what was happening, forgetting that he, Harry, had not yet told him anything. In frustration he waved the letter over his head. "I need to sit down," he declared before leading his best friend through his own house and into the kitchen. Wishing Hermione hadn't been called into the Ministry early that morning so she could help him with their friend, Ron walked to the sink and hurriedly washed the shaving cream from his face, leaving him with an absurd half-beard. Harry hardly noticed this, though. He began pacing back and forth across the hardwood, muttering to himself as he went.
"Mate, what happened?" Ron asked, staring at his best friend as though he had gone mad.
"Lily sent us this last night," Harry said, handing the letter to Ron, who took it warily. It looked like a pretty standard letter and he glanced at it while wondering whether he should seriously talk to Hermione and Ginny about taking Harry to St. Mungo's to be evaluated by a healer. Merlin only knew how much trauma The Boy Who Lived had gone through. It seemed now as though Harry was finally cracking. Or was this what a midlife crisis looked like?
"Well?" Harry prompted, ceasing his pacing to cross his arms and look expectantly at Ron, interrupting his friend's musings. The redheaded man shuffled his feet.
"One more second," he said sheepishly, hurriedly looking down to scan the letter. It was relatively short, scrawled onto a piece of parchment in Lily's bubbly, girlish handwriting.
Mum and Daddy,
This week has been alright, although Professor Boot assigned us a ghastly essay in transfiguration. Really, I don't know why teachers do such horrid things like that, it's just mean. I almost forgot to tell you in my last letter so I'll mention it now, but I want to bring Josh by over the holidays so you can meet him. You'll love him, he's wonderful. Write me back and tell me what days we can have him and I'll let him know.
Please make sure you remind Grandma Molly I don't like nuts in my Christmas fudge.
Also please tell Al that he's not allowed to call me Ginger.
Lots of love,
Lily
Ron looked up to find Harry's green eyes staring pointedly at him, clearly awaiting a reaction.
"Er, are you angry she doesn't like nuts in her fudge?" he asked tentatively, handing the parchment back to Lily's father, whose distraction was beginning to seriously worry Ron.
Harry snatched the parchment and moved forward, shoving the letter back under Ron's face and jabbing a particular line with his index finger. "She wants to bring a boy to the house!" he yelled, half angrily. He poked the line again, as though trying to physically remove the boy's name from its contents. "She wants to bring this Josh to the house and have me and Ginny meet him! My Lilybean has a boyfriend, Ron! What do I do?"
"Oh Merlin," Ron breathed, finally grasping the gravity of the situation. He lowered himself into one of the kitchen chairs. Harry followed him. Both men sat staring at each other. After nearly thirty years and several battles together, they were still completely inept at understanding or handling teenage girls.
"What do I do?" Harry asked again. "Ginny thinks I'm mental, she said to just have the bloke over and be nice to him, but I can't do that! What if he—well we already know—Ron this idiot wants to date my daughter! My little girl!"
"It can't be too different from when James started going out with that Alison girl a few years ago, can it?" Ron asked faintly.
"Yes!" Harry responded swiftly, glaring at his best friend. "This is much different. Lily is my daughter. And this Joshua Wood bloke wants to just come in—"
"Hang on," Ron interrupted, gaping at Harry. "Joshua Wood? As in Oliver Wood's son?"
"Er, yes," Harry said, cursing himself inwardly for accidentally sharing that particular detail. "Yeah, it's Wood's kid."
Ron snorted. "You're this worked up about Lily bringing home Oliver Wood's son? Really, Harry, she could do much worse."
"That's not the point!" Harry said hotly, banging his hand down on the table. "How would you feel if it were Rose?"
The smile slid off of Ron's face. "That's completely different—Rosie is—she doesn't—"
"She doesn't yet," Harry corrected. Ron continued to stare at his friend, his own horrified expression mimicking the one Harry had worn minutes earlier.
"Harry, do you remember how big of gits we were fifth year?"
"Yes!" the green eyed man said emphatically, relieved that Ron finally understood. "And my daughter—my Lily—wants to bring one to the house so the family can meet him. And then they'll probably snog and do Merlin knows what else and then she'll get pregnant and have to get married and be gone forever!"
"No, we can't lose Lily!" Ron cried, now looking quite as deranged as his friend. "She's the best one at wizard chess, not even the boys can beat her!"
"What do I do?" Harry asked, bringing the letter out again and opening and closing it repeatedly in agitation.
"I don't know, er—" Ron cast around for a suggestion, his eyes flitting around the spotless kitchen. "Maybe just talk to him or something?"
Harry nodded, mulling over the idea. "Yeah," he muttered, half to himself. "Right…talk to him. And say what?" he looked up at Ron again expectantly.
"Er," Ron stalled. He hadn't planned on coming up with a script for Harry. "How about something like 'oy!Llittle fucker, stay away from my daughter!"
Harry stared at him. "Ron, they're fifteen," he said finally.
"Well I'm just trying to help!" Ron yelled in frustration, slumping in his seat. "We'll figure something out," he said finally. Harry nodded and rose, striding to the opposite wall.
"Do you have anything to eat in here?" he called across the room, his head buried halfway into a cupboard. "I'm bloody starving, skipped breakfast to come over here."
"Nah, Hermione's supposed to go shopping tonight when she gets back from work," Ron answered. "Fancy a trip to the Leaky Cauldron? We can stop at a muggle restaurant on the way."
Harry grinned and closed the cupboard. "I already said I wasn't coming in to work today," he said. "Might as well make the most of the day off."
"Excellent," Ron replied, jumping up and moving to fetch his jacket from the closet in the foyer.
They were halfway out the door when Harry seized his friend by the shoulders and spun him around, shaking with laughter.
"Oy, what was that for?" Ron yelped, wrestling out of Harry's grip.
"Go shave!" Harry said, doubled over with laughter. "You look like a bloody idiot with only half a beard!"
Author's Note: I just got the idea of Harry freaking out over the idea of Lily Luna dating and decided to run with it, and this is what came of it. Please review! Depending on feedback, I'll either leave this as a one-shot or continue it into a multi-chapter story. Tell me what you think!