Disclaimer : I , of course , don't own Harry Potter.
Time alone
"Where are you going?" Harry asks, looking up from his quidditch magazine.
Hermione's reply is clipped. "Out."
"Out where?"
"Out, Harry, out! I don't know where," she answers him, trying her best to keep her voice down as she pulls her hair back into a ponytail. "I haven't even been out of the bloody house since Jason was born, and I am going to take the afternoon off. I need some air, Harry. And there's nothing you can do to stop me." She tried to explain, her voice calms a bit as she does so but still high enough to deliver her message.
Harry sits stunned in his chair. "Okay," is the best reply he can utter.
Hermione sighs in frustration and irritation at his reflection. She inhales a deep breath and marches toward her husband, who's scrupulously refolding his magazine, and gives him a kiss on the forehead and runs her hand briefly through his hair. Then she leans in to the bassinet by the window and presses her nose against her three-month-old son's soft cheek.
Harry smiles at the affectionate moment.
"I love you, baby," she whispers to the sleeping infant. Harry likes how she never uses a baby voice with their son. That's his Hermione alright. Bossy!
They named him Jason, and Harry is certain that even at three months, the child needn't be coddled. Takes after her. "He's his momma's boy," he thinks with a smile.
"I'll see you later," Hermione says, smoothing a strand of Jason's raven hair.
The grin diminishes from Harry's face the second Hermione opens the door after putting on her coast. She starts to exit the house.
"Wait-you're leaving me with him? Alone?" Horrified, he calls out for her.
But she's already gone, and Harry is left alone with his son, who has just woken up...
-
A moment after Hermione's departure, Harry finds himself staring down at his son, gazing at each other with matching emerald eyes. Then Jason wrinkles his little red nose, screws up his face, and lets out a terrifying wail.
Harry is at a loss. Despite the fact that he insisted that Hermione take a leave of absence from work while she was pregnant-working with chemicals, making potions for sick people can be very dangerous for healers let alone pregnant healers - and in the months following his son's birth, he has never spent any quality time alone with his son without Hermione around.
A thought pops into his head, one that is extremely brilliant and original...well, to him at least. Maybe Jason is hungry! He's about to reach out for his wand to enchant it to make a bottle when he remembers Hermione fed the baby before putting him down for his nap. Harry remembers because her wonderful breasts were distracting him from the latest news about his favorite quidditch team-he forgot its name at that moment- in his beloved magazine.
Bloody hell.
Oh! Wait! But if he just ate, then he must have gone to the loo…! Hadn't he? Harry leans over the squalling baby and tentatively sniffs the air. Unfortunately, Jason just smells like baby, all powdery and clean. Harry never thought he'd be unhappy to smell that smell.
Hermione smelled like new paper and strawberries and...how long had she been gone? He glances at the clock hanging in the wall opposite to him. Five minutes. He huffed and looked at his son.
"I know you need your mommy. She'd know what you need," Harry coos, having no idea if that might help.
Jason only cries harder. Harry buries his head in his hands "I need your mommy, too." He murmurs to his still whining baby boy.
After fifteen minutes of non-stop sobbing on Jason part, Harry's nerves are beginning to get frayed. He's a proud man, one who doesn't like to ask for help but desperate times call for desperate measures. And no one knows more about desperate times than the rest of family.
Tentatively, he casts a spell on the baby' bassinet, and it starts to hover three feet above the ground. Taking a great look at his son, Harry realize that he needs to make him more presentable, he uses the first piece of cloths that his eyes lay on to wipe the snot running from Jason's nose. The lucky baby has Hermione's cute nose-Harry's all-time favorite nose- in miniature. Harry never thought he could resent such an adorable nose, and yet, he doesn't exactly enjoy wiping boogers out of it. And he believes from the look on Jason's –not so adorable at the moment- face, that his son doesn't look too happy either as he screams and twists his tiny body in the stroller, flailing his little arms.
Harry waves his wand, and the bassinet begins to fly slowly toward the fireplace and Harry follows it with causation. Deep, deep down, he hopes that he'd meet his mother at the end of his journey. If anyone has the natural power to calm the little guy over, it'll be his mother, the one and only Lily Potter.
He makes sure that he pronounces the following words clearly, hoping that his son's sobbing won't lead them to unexpected and unwanted destination.
Father and son carefully exit the fireplace into the center of the living room, and the men surround it. Ron, Draco and James Potter looked up to see who just flooed. The only sound is Jason's miserable wailing, echoing throughout silent room.
"What are you doing here?" Harry addressed his question toward Draco. The blond man merely shrugged and leaned back against the couch.
"I'm here to make sure no one cheats."
"What are you doing?" Harry asks again. Draco rolls his eyes.
"I think it's quite obvious. Don't you think, Potter?" Draco sighs before he carries on "Your old man and Weasley are play chess"
"So what? You're a referee?" Harry snaps, the volume of his voice is raising.
"Harry, that's enough," James orders.
Harry nearly shouts over his son's cries, annoyed. "Is mom here?"
The three men shake their head, confirming one thing to Harry. He was so screwed. He eventually lays the bassinet on the couch but makes the mistake when the bassinet is only two feet away from the eyes and reach of Draco.
"She went out. Said something about taking the afternoon off," James tells him before he looks back at the board before him, rubbing at a spot on the bridge of his nose.
"She too," Harry whispers in disbelief, as if the women in his life have decided to bail on him today.
Harry thinks wistfully that he would do just about anything to trade Jason for friendly Kyle or charming Rose right now (Rose and Kyle are Ron's kids). He immediately feels guilty for his mutinous fantasy. What kind of a father is he? Ron is a very great fathe,r and he'd do anything for his children and here Harry is wishing that his was someone else's responsibility.
"Bloody Hell, Harry," Draco says, frowning down at the baby in disgust, "Your progeny's even more annoying than you are. I wish it had taken after Hermione."
"Shut up," Harry snaps, a defensive sort of loyalty rising in him and pushing away his resentful sentiments. "He's a baby. And obviously something's wrong, and I can't figure out what it is."
Draco looks thoughtful. "Maybe it misses Hermione's breasts...I would too-"
Harry's punch to Draco' face jolts the dreamy expression off the pure-blood's face. Draco is about to retaliate when Jason's sobs redouble. Harry fists his hands in his hair in desperation, then realizes what he's doing and quickly smoothes his hair again. "Ron , could you try something?"
"No, no, no," Ron says quickly, standing up and backing away from the baby and his father, Ron raises his hands in defense. "I'd probably break him."
"Says the man with two children and another on the way," Harry snarls.
"One thing for sure, if this kid over here takes one little tiny look at Severus Snape's face, I guarantee you he'll never stop crying. But, nevertheless, I think Snape can have something to calm the kid. It'd be very affective, I'm sure." Draco suggests helpfully. Ron gives him a look of dumbstruck disbelief before Harry explodes.
"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?" He shouts at Draco, his face almost as red as his sons.
Despite the fact that it's a rhetorical question, Draco is quite ready to answer. Before he can though, James finally decides to interrupt.
"In any other situation, I would have thought that comeback funny. But that's enough! What's wrong with Jason, Harry" asks James seriously.
"Hermione left me alone with him and-," explains Harry exhaustedly, his voice cracking with strain. Draco mutters a word that sounds suspiciously like "puberty" under his breath. Harry ignores him. "- he won't stop crying ever since."
James studies the hysterical baby with a wise and seasoned eye, and then turns to Harry. "Have you tried holding him?" he asks matter-of-factly.
When Harry finally responds several moments later, he sounds at once shocked and sheepish. "No. No, I haven't."
Ron and Draco turn to Harry and glare at him in unison. James is trying very hard not to laugh. "Alright, well, why don't you try that?"
Harry bends over and cradles him gently, nervously, in the crook of his arm and sends up three silent prayers. The first is that Jason will stop crying; the second is that Hermione will never find out about this incident; the third is that his son will not spit up on his cloths.
Jason sniffles and hiccups in surprise, looking up at his father with a look that Harry interprets to be a mix of curiosity and mistrust. "What now?" he asks James.
"Just walk around with him for a bit."
So Harry just does that. He makes slow laps around the house while Ron and his father return to their game. In no time, Jason has drifted into a silent state of sleep, a small smile gracing his face. It's quite a handsome face, Harry notes with pride.
"Father's hand, I don't know what I would have done if there wasn't a real dad around." He glances at Ron as he express those words. The redhead glares at him and sticks out his tongue.
James laughs out loud this time. "Real dad?" He claps Harry on the shoulder. "You're as real as I am. It's all about practice. You'll get there."
Harry is optimistic but doubtful. "Really?"
"Really. If you can imagine it, I used to be as bad as you. Worse even." James relates, giving the slumbering Jason a fond smile.
"What?"
"Long story. I'll tell about it next time." James says with a wave of his hand. "We have an audience," he whispers so only can Harry hear that. "I just meant that everyone makes mistakes."
Draco gets closer to see Jason. "It's quite cute when it's sleeping."
"He," Harry corrects Draco. "My son is a 'he'."
Draco ignores this. "I wonder what he's dreaming about. Wouldn't it be great to find out...?"
Hermione apparats back home just before dinner time, feeling refreshed and put-together for the first time in months. "Harry?" she calls out, entering their living room "Harry, where are you?" Hermione calls again, noticing that both the couch and the bassinet are empty.
Running a finger along the wall, she wanders down the hallway to their bedroom. Harry, still in his cloak, is passed out on his side of their king-sized bed. On his chest, Jason sleeps peacefully.
Hermione finds herself getting rather choked up. "My boys," she thinks aloud. Harry cracks an eye open and smiles at her. She crawls onto the bed, careful not to make the mattress bounce. Hermione curls up next to Harry and rests her head on his shoulder. "You're such a good dad," she whispers in his ear.
For some reason, this makes him laugh.
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