I was innocently sitting by the radio, listening to the Quidditch game, when it happened. "Daddy? How are babies made?" My world came crashing down that very instant. "What? What did you say, James?" I asked, trying to stall for time. "Daddy, you heard me. I want to know how babies are made. And I know that you, the smartest person in the world, could tell me right?" Dang it! He had me cornered. I could either refuse to tell him and suffer deflation of my head, or I could tell him and have him tell me I was a liar. And perverted. And disgusting and gross. "Well, son, I'll tell you when you're older."
"Okay, Daddy." He waited a minute.
"Daddy?"
"Yes, James?"
"I'm older." I groaned on the inside.
"Well, you have to be even older then that.
"Daddy, I'm super old! Just tell me! Please?" How could I deny that puppy dog face?
"No, James, stop pestering me!" Oh no. This face was worse. How could a five year old have learned to pull off that face so perfectly. That face made me feel like I had kicked a puppy.
"Daddy! Daddy, why? Why? Won't you tell me? Is it something bad? Did Daddy do something bad?" He wailed. I weighed out my options. On one hand, I could not tell him and have him thinking I did something bad. On the other, I could tell him but then he would tell his friends. And his friends would tell there parents. And there parents would tell Ginny! And Ginny would tell a therapist! And the therapist would make me sit through long, uncomfortable hours of discussing my sexuality! Oh, the horrors!
"Well, son, when a man loves a women..." I trailed off not knowing what to say next.
"He buys her an ice cream cone!" James supplied.
"Right, right. Exactly what I was going to say. And after the ice cream cone, they started kissing, and then..."
"Then what?"
"And then mommy gets pregnant. The end."
"The end? But how does mommy get pregnant? Something else has to happen!"
"Nothing else happens! Just, just go to bed or something!"
"Daddy it's only three in the afternoon!"
"Then go take a nap!"
"Fine! But guess what, you a big meanie! A big, big meanie and I hate you!"
"What, James..."
"No, Dad. It's finished. Good day!"
"But-"
"I said good day!"
"Fine, be that way.
"Yeah, I will!" And with that, James left with a huff. The only thing Harry could think was how James got to be that smart.