Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, which I should think is obvious.
Because I would want my kid's first word to be something interesting.
Harry was crying again. Again. James rolled out of bed and stumbled into Harry's room. He leaned on Harry's crib and saw that for whatever reason his kid had decided to wail at the top of his lungs.
"Damn, Harry, what'd we do to you?" James groaned. Harry stopped crying abruptly and stared at his father. "Damn," the one-year-old echoed bemusedly.
"No no no no no!" gasped James. "Shit, don't say that!"
"Shit!" giggled Harry.
"Oh God," moaned James. "Lily is going to kill me."
"God!" Harry cried, waving his arms in the air dramatically. "Kill!"
James stared at his son. "Xylophone."
"Xy-lo-phone," repeated Harry.
"Susie sells sea shells by the sea shore?"
"Two for a dollar!" replied Harry cheerfully.
"JAMES!"
James gasped and jerked into and upright sitting position. He was on the floor, having rolled out of bed to check on Harry and... fallen back asleep.
"It's your turn to get Harry, James, and don't you dare try and back out of it!" hissed Lily.
"I would never, love, I just... got... asleep-- I'm going!"
Harry was crying.
"Damn. You know, that dream really scared me, Harry." Then he realized what he said and eyed Harry warily. But Harry showed no signs of wanting to repeat his father's words, just, judging by his outstretched arms, an overwhelming desire to be picked up. James obliged and lifted his son out of his crib with a sigh of relief. When Harry was sleeping again James left to catch up on his own rest.
Harry turned in his sleep, dreaming about his toy broomstick. Upon awakening without it, he spoke his first word: "Damn."