Disclaimer: The characters belong to Ms. Rowling, the plot belongs to me
"Dad?" James rapped gently on his father's office door. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"
"James, you know you can always talk to me. What's up? You look troubled."
James had just finished his sixth year at Hogwarts. He no longer looked like a boy. Right now, he looked very much like a young man who had the weight of the world on his shoulders. It was a feeling that Harry knew well, and he was concerned about his son. He motioned to the couch, and sat down next to his son.
"Dad, how old were you when you first faced Voldemort?"
"That depends on what you mean, when you say 'faced.' Do you mean the first time I saw him, or the first time he was his own being?"
"The first time you saw him. You were a First Year, weren't you?"
Harry had never hidden his life from his children. There were a lot of reasons for this. One was that they were students at Hogwarts, and they would learn about the War, a war that his entire family had been integrally a part of. Another was that Harry was proud of what he, his family and his friends had accomplished. Finally, as much as he hoped that his children never had to face what he had when he was a child; he wanted them to know that they could do it, if they needed to.
"Yeah, I was eleven, really almost twelve, not that it makes a lick of difference. I also didn't face him alone. Your Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione were there with me. Where are we going with this? I can't imagine you're really interested in the 'Harry Potter vs. Voldemort' story again. You must know it inside out and backwards by this time."
"First of all, Dad…no matter how many times you tell the story that Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione were there, it doesn't change that they weren't in that room with you. You faced him alone, when you were eleven."
Harry really wasn't sure where this conversation was going. He knew they began covering the war in sixth year History of Magic, but it was usually the first war, unless Professor Binns had changed the curriculum, and it was hard enough getting him to change it to cover the wars at all, so set in his way, he was.
"James, I didn't do any of the things I'm known for without a lot of help from other people. I wasn't really even in the room with him alone. My mother was there with me, or at least her protection was. I'll ask again, where are we going with this?"
James got up and started pacing the room. Harry smiled a bit, as it was a habit he recognized. Both he and his son could pace a path in the carpet when they were anxious or upset about something.
"James?"
"Dad, it's just that I'm almost seventeen. I'm going into my last year of school in the fall. By this time in your life, you had faced Voldemort four, maybe five times. You thwarted the theft of the Philosopher's Stone, you destroyed Riddle's diary, and SAVED mum's LIFE. You saved Granddad's life. You did all this amazing stuff, and you were a KID. It doesn't even stop there…you were a hero in the war. Our entire family is filled with war heroes. It's just a lot to live up to, not just a lot to live up to, it's impossible to live up to. What am I ever going to be able to do, to be as good as you are?"
Harry had known this time would come. In fact, it was very similar to a conversation he'd had with his Godson just a few years before. Not only did Teddy have Harry, known to almost all the Wizards in Great Britain as The Savior of The Wizarding World, but his parents also died, as heroes, in the war. It had been a hard conversation then, as well. Harry imagined that every adult member of his family would have this conversation with their children. The Weasley's had been integral to the Resistance Effort in the war, working with The Order of the Phoenix, at the right hand of Albus Dumbledore.
"James, come sit back down." Harry casually slung his arm around his son, resisting the urge to gather him up in a smothering hug. "I did all of those things because I HAD to. I didn't wake up one morning and say 'Hey, I'm bored…I think I'll go save the Wizarding World today'. My life really wasn't my own until I was seventeen, really almost eighteen. You've had the privilege to live your entire life in a time of peace. You haven't had to worry that your friends or a member of your family might be killed. This is what we fought for"
Harry could see that James was thinking about it. It was a hard concept to understand, and to accept. Even in the Wizarding World, things like prophecies weren't common place. How could anyone comprehend that the events of your life could be dictated by a few words, spoken from a trance? Harry knew he could never adequately explain it, and he was less able to explain that no matter the struggles, he wouldn't have changed his life if he could.
"You know about my life with the Dursley's. You've met my cousin, Dudley. There's a reason you've never met my Aunt and Uncle. I was just over one year old when my parents were killed. From then on, until I was eleven, my life, quite frankly, sucked. Hogwarts was the place I met people who genuinely cared about me. I met your Aunts and Uncles, I met your mum, and I met your grandparents. People who finally treated me like family, well before I married into it. Your brother told me once, that it often seems like my life didn't begin until I was eleven, and in many ways, he's right. What I was doing with my blood family was merely surviving. I didn't start truly living until I went to Hogwarts. I'd like to think, that even without the prophesy, I would have done the same things, because if people didn't fight back, didn't make a stand, everything would have been lost."
"I don't want to go to WAR, dad. I just want to do something with my life, something to be proud of. You may not know it, but it's really hard to be 'Harry Potter's Son.' It's hard to be 'George and Fred Weasley's Nephew." Did you know their swamp is STILL in the corridor? The professors could get rid of it, but they don't. It has velvet ropes around it; it's a memorial to THEM, not just to Uncle Fred. It's ALSO a reminder of who they were. I know you don't want to hear this, but no matter what prank I do, it's always going to be compared to 'The Weasley Twins.' I want to make you all proud, but you've all done everything before us."
Now it was Harry's turn to pace. He wanted to say something that would ease his son's mind. To prove, without a doubt, that no matter what, Harry and Ginny would always be proud of their son. James caught his arm and gently pulled him back onto the couch. Harry no longer resisted the urge to hug his son.
"James, we are all so proud of all of you. I know it wasn't easy to be 'Harry Potter's son.' I remember what it was like to be me at school. The only advice I can give you is the same advice I gave you, your brother and your sister before you got on the train. I'll bet if you ask your cousins they'll tell you it's the same advice they got from their parents, too. Just be yourself. No matter what you do with your life, I'll be proud of you. YOU are the reason that we all fought that war. You, your brother and sister, your cousins are the reason. One day, you'll get married and have children of your own. They are the reason we fought."
Harry took a deep breath and continued, "You don't have to fight a war to do great things. You don't have to do great things to be a great wizard. You don't even have to be a great wizard to be a great person. All I ask is for you to be a great person. Do that and everything else will fall into place."
James smiled at his father. It really was that simple. Be a great person and it will all fall into place. Being a great person wasn't that difficult, after all, he had great roll models. He had known that talking to his dad would help him feel better, but he hadn't known how much better.
"Thanks, Dad. You know, I'll never stop hoping I can live up to being your son, but now, I know the expectations are attainable."
Harry watched his son leave his office. He knew it wasn't the last time he would have this conversation. Growing up is hard, and growing up famous is almost unbearable. He and Ginny had done what they could to keep their children well grounded, and the rest was up to the children. His conversation with James was encouraging. Maybe, just maybe they had done it right.
