.net/s/6422362/1/
DISCUSSIONS AT DAWN
Harry and James share a moment together. I don't own Harry Potter. Wish I did but I'm just not a brilliant as J.K. Rowling.
Harry woke to the simultaneous sounds of crying and, what sounded like a light moan. Blinking in the semi-darkness, he reached out to his nightstand and found his glasses. Slipping them on and sitting up in bed, two things became very apparent: His youngest child was wailing from the bassinet on the other side of the bedroom and his wife was burrowing deeply back into the warm covers of the bed.
"I take it you've been up with her already?"
There was a deep sigh. "Yes. She's not hungry or wet or cold or anything else that would require her to be awake." Ginny sounded exhausted. Lily Luna Potter, the newest and smallest member of the Potter family was three months old and had recently begun sleeping through the night, much to her parents delight. They had recently begun discussion of moving her from the cozy bassinette that was in the master bedroom to the pretty nursery that they had prepared for her down the hallway. Perhaps she had overheard them talking because for the past two nights, her sleep had suddenly deteriorated to a few hours at best.
"My turn." Harry kissed the top of Ginny's head and slipped out of bed, his feet almost of their own accord looking for his bedroom slippers.
"I love you, Harry Potter," came the mumbled reply, almost inaudible because of the bedcovers and because she was already half asleep.
Softly chuckling, he slipped on his bathrobe and padded across the floor towards the sound of distress. Harry gently scooped up the tiny girl and headed out the bedroom door and down the stairs to the family room. There he lowered himself into the lovely wooden rocking chair that he had bought for Ginny for Christmas 5 years ago when she was pregnant with their oldest child James. As he settled Lily against his neck and began rubbing her back, he began to talk to her in a soothing, sing-song voice. Soon Lily's sobs turned to whimpering and, not to long afterward, she settled into sleep. Harry smiled to himself, once again amazed at how his life was. The satisfaction of a job he loved and the admiration of the entire wizarding world was nothing compared to the love of his family; his wife and three beautiful children as well as her family who had welcomed him as family so long ago. Now he was not only a husband, but a father, brother, uncle and even a son. The thought still amazed him.
He sat rocking a while. There was no use going back to bed. The family room's large window faced the east and he saw the beginnings of the dawning sun. He had a decent night's sleep thanks to Ginny getting up with Lily earlier and so he found he was rapidly waking up. Besides, if he moved now, he might just wake Lily. He moved the rocker with his toe against the floor and continued to rub her back. The rocker was made of oak and covered with soft, blue cushions. 5 years ago, he had talked Arthur and Molly into helping him shop for the rocker a week before Christmas. Ginny was 6 months along with James and their home was starting to show signs that a baby was soon to make an appearance. Clothes, toys, books, bottles, quilts and blankets, high chairs and strollers had all made their home seem much smaller. Harry had noticed that the explosion of baby products seemed to be made solely for the comfort and protection of the baby. But what about Ginny? When he talked to Molly about this over a cup of tea, she suggested that every new mother could use a comfortable rocking chair. When Harry saw Ginny's expression as she uncovered her gift, he made a mental note ask Molly her advice every Christmas.
And now Lily was being rocked in the chair. After about a half hour, Harry was just wondering if he should put Lily back in her bassinette and start making coffee. Just then he heard a soft sound from the doorway. Now the room was light enough to see his eldest son holding his black stuffed dog and rubbing his eyes with a small fist. One leg of his pajamas was hitched up to his knee.
"Hi Daddy." Half asleep, James made his way to the rocker.
"Well, good morning. Or almost morning. How come you're awake so early?"
He shrugged his small shoulders and looked at Harry's lap. Harry put his finger to his lips and carefully moved Lily to his left arm where she continued to sleep. He then put out his right arm and James smiled and climbed up.
"Now tell me why you're awake so early," Harry repeated.
James gave another shrug. "I had a dream."
"Bad dream?"
"No. It just woke me up and I didn't want to go back to sleep." Harry decided not to push the issue and the three of them sat in the quiet of the morning with Harry continuing to rock. James cuddled in next to his daddy and felt better already. Even though he was sleepy, James was starting to think of questions. He once remembered Daddy telling Aunt Hermione that he didn't mind James' constant stream of questions. He had said something about not being allowed to ask questions when he was little.
"Daddy?"
"Yes, son?"
"Why do you call Lily 'your little flower'?" Harry smiled. From almost the day she was born, she was his 'little flower'.
"Well, I like calling her that. Since Lily is the name of a flower, it seemed a good nickname to me. Don't you think so?"
"You named Lily after a flower?"
Harry chucked a little bit. "No. We named your sister after my mother. Her name was Lily. But there's also a kind of flower that's called a lily."
"What kind of flower?"
"You know the white flowers your mummy has along the side of the house?" A nod. "Well, those are lilies."
"Oh," Some more silence. Then… "Do I know your mummy?"
Harry stared out at the dawn for a second or two and then answered. "No. I'm afraid not. She died a long time ago."
"Oh." More silence as the little boy absorbed this. The whole idea of death was a little foggy to him. He remembered that his mummy and daddy told him about a man who was his Uncle Fred. They said that Uncle Fred looked a lot like Uncle George and was a very funny person but because he died, he couldn't be with them anymore. Daddy made sure that James understood that it wasn't because Uncle Fred wanted to leave. But because some very bad wizards and witches were trying to hurt other people, there had been a war. James didn't understand very much what a war was but whenever Daddy or Uncle Ron talked about it, he knew that it made them either serious or sad. But Daddy said that the war was over and had been over for years. James then thought of something else.
"Did you have a daddy too?"
Harry had been expecting this. "Yes I did. He died at the same time my mother did." James peered up at Harry and Harry knew that there would need to be more explanation than this. "Remember when I told you about the war?" Another nod. "Well, there was a group of people called The Order of the Phoenix. My parents were part of that group. And they were fighting against the bad wizard who started the war."
"Ooooh." James sat and absorbed this. Then came the next question. "Did you have a brother or sister?"
Harry smiled and shook his head. "No I wasn't that lucky. I had to wait till I married your mother and then I got all of her brothers as my family."
More silence as James thought about this. He liked his little brother well enough, he supposed. Sometimes they could have a lot of fun together. But there were other times when he wished he didn't have to share his toys or wait till his silly brother finished talking to mummy to tell her something important! As for Lily, he couldn't see how she'd be any fun at all! All she did was cry and eat and sleep. Sometimes she smelled funny and then mummy or daddy would take her to her bedroom for a few minutes. Suddenly, James thought of another great question.
"What was your daddy's name?"
Harry grinned down at his son. "James."
The little boy sat up quickly in his lap and almost squealed. "Really?" The sudden noise caused Lily to start and whimper a bit. But apparently, she decided that she was too comfortable to bother to cry and was back to sound sleeping within seconds.
"Shhh! James, calm down." Harry couldn't help but chuckle a bit. "Yes, you were named for him and his best friend, Sirius. Sirius was my godfather."
"Wow!" James sat back in his dad's lap and thought of that. "Have I ever met your godfather?"
A sigh. "No, I'm afraid not. But you are a lot like him in many ways. He loved to laugh." Harry wasn't exactly speaking from firsthand knowledge. His own time with his godfather had been fragmented and far too short. But he was thinking of all the stories of the marauders while they were in school and his own photographs of them. Sirius did love to laugh.
"Did he die too?"
Harry looked straight into his sons face. "I'm afraid so. Son, the war was quite long and many, many people died or were very hurt. But it's over now and we're all a lot safer." Harry didn't want to get into his role in the war. His son was far too little to hear all that now. Besides, knowing him, there would be another question coming.
"What about Al?"
"What about him?"
"Was he named for anyone?"
"As a matter of fact, he was. He was named 'Albus' after a wonderful teacher, Albus Dumbledore. And his middle name 'Severus' is from another teacher, Severus Snape. He was a friend of my mother's when they were young."
"And Lily's middle name is from Aunt Luna!" James was happy he had made the connection. More silence followed and Harry couldn't help but wonder where James' mind would take him next. But there was quite a period of silence before James spoke again.
"Was she pretty?"
Harry looked at James' big eyes. "You mean my mum?" A nod. "Yes. She was very pretty. In fact, later today I'll show you a picture of her and my dad. And Sirius too."
And James snuggled back into Harry's lap. As Harry rocked gently, he became aware that his son had fallen back to sleep.
And that's how Ginny found them two hours later as she padded her way into the kitchen. She stopped long enough to cover the three sleepers with a warm blanket, dropped a soft kiss on each of their foreheads and headed into the kitchen to start the coffee. Looking back, she felt a surge of love and contentment wash over her. She was, without a doubt, the luckiest woman alive.
