A/N: Hey guys! I'm BAACK! As you may be well aware of (if you were watching the story previously) So Close, the original story was deleted and this is the revamped version of it, so much better I hope! I pray! Please read and review if you have time! I LOVE TO HEAR FROM YOU!
UPDATE: 12/10/12: MIKE IS BACK IN THE STORY. WOOT.
This is an Alternative Universe story so James and Lily are still alive and Lily and Harry are currently living in New York.
Thanks for reading!
ACleverRubberCactus
A life goes by
Romantic dreams must die
So I bid mine goodbye
And never knew
So close was waiting
Waiting here with you
And now, forever, I know
All that I want is to hold you
So close
- John McLaughlin
Once upon a time, in a land not so far away there was a boy and a girl. From the moment of their first meeting, so long ago now it seemed, the boy fell deeply in love with the girl and everyday he begged the girl to be with him. She refused him, however for the boy was cruel, arrogant and selfish. The years passed and, as all things do, the boy changed. Rather than the selfish, arrogant beast he was before, the boy had matured into a good-natured, well-humored young man. It wasn't long before the girl, now a beautiful young woman, fell madly in love with him in return. Within only a few years, the young, blissful couple were engaged and due to be married – however it was never meant to be. Only a day before their wedding, the young woman found a letter by her bedside informing her that her prince charming had left her for another. Heartbroken and unable to face her friends or family, the young woman left her home, going as far away as possible, where she lived alone. All hope for the life that she'd dreamed of having seemed lost forever. That was, however, until she found that she had been blessed with the greatest gift of all. The gift of new life, a baby boy she named Harry Potter.
Our story begins seven years after Harry's birth, in a third grade classroom in John Peterson Elementary school in Manhattan, New York. Harry Potter was no longer a baby but now a scrawny little boy of eight. He pushed his oval shaped glasses, the bridge taped up at the bridge with a thick layer of duct-tape, farther up onto the bridge of his thin nose and pushed a strand of his messy, jet black hair from his emerald eyes as he carefully traced a charcoal black line across his drawing paper. Their teacher had asked the class to draw a picture of their families at Christmas-time as an activity for the last day before the students were all dismissed for their annual holiday break.
His eyes jumped back to the paper as he began to trace out a taller stick figure in black crayon and a shorter one next to it. Ever since he'd woken up that morning Harry had felt tired, nauseous and a little dizzy, but he'd kept it from his mother. Harry's mother was a little overprotective of him and the last thing he wanted was for her to go into a panic attack if it just turned out to be some kind of minor cold. He could manage himself...or at least he tried to. He traced a pair of oval glasses on the smaller figure and a mass of jet black hair at the top of its head. He reached back into the crayon box again and pulled out a dark orange crayon and began to draw long, wavy hair on the taller figure. He next pulled out a the black crayon and began to draw another figure, tall and blond next to his mother, his mother's best friend, ex-boyfriend and the only father figure of Harry's life, Mike. Just as he was finishing up drawing a snowman next to Mike he heard Ms. Honey announce that their time was up and it was time for everyone to present their drawings to the class.
"Okay, Melissa why don't you go first?" said Ms. Honey sweetly as she pushed her stylish black rimmed glasses farther up her nose. She was a sheer delight to the eye, dressed in a green turtleneck sweater worn under a red V-Neck sweater with a reindeer pattern and a pair of khaki pants. Her ears were decorated with little Christmas tree earrings whose minute red lights lit up when you pushed a tiny black button in the back. Her honey blond hair was pulled back with a red ribbon, adorned with little gold bells that jingled softly as she walked by.
Harry watched as Melissa stood up anxiously and held up her picture for the class to see. She was a scrawny little thing, about a head shorter than everyone else in her class. Her bleach-blond hair draped down her back in a wavy cascade. The picture in her hands portrayed four stick figures and a poorly drawn dog with long droopy ears. They were all sitting around a scribbly looking Christmas tree lit with green, yellow, blue and red lights. A badly drawn fireplace stood out in the background. Harry could hear some of the students snickering in the background but one stern look by their teacher quickly shut them up. Melissa cleared her throat and began to explain her picture nervously. Clearly she wasn't all too good of a public speaker.
"Well…" she began anxiously, she was visibly shaking. "This is my family. That's my mom," she said pointing to the stick figure to the far right, it had dark brown hair. Next she pointed to a taller figure with yellow hair, "and that's my dad. The little one is my baby sister and that's me next to her and in the middle is my dog Scruffy".
As she mentioned her father Harry remembered Mike and last Christmas. Mike had rented them a lovely place at the Plaza Hotel. He remembered it well because of the enormous tree in the palace sized suite. It was at least ten feet tall, massive to say the least and had been decorated with shimmering baubles of every color. Ribbons of gold and silver were snaked around it's pine branches and bright lights shining white and red lit up the majestic tree. He remembered sitting down by the fire in his mother's lap on Christmas eve while Mike read them the third chapter of Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol. It was a tradition Mike had started when Harry was three in which each Christmas Mike or Lily would read them one chapter of the story on Christmas eve until the entire book was complete. Mike's version of the book had fifteen chapters which meant that the last year Harry would spend living in his mother's home at eighteen was the year the last chapter would be read. Harry wondered what this year's chapter would be about, he could still vividly remember the chapter from last year; Scrooge had just been visited by the ghost of Jacob Marley, telling him he'd be visited by three other ghosts. The ghosts of Christmas past, present and future. He could hardly wait to hear more about them this year.
"That's a very nice job Melissa, I love all the colors. It looks very pretty" Ms. Honey commented as she smiled brightly and the entire class clapped uninterestedly.
"Who would name their dog Scruffy?"
Suddenly the entire room went silent. The entire class looked over at a cocky boy with dark brown hair and brown eyes and a smug look on his rat's face. It was the bully in Harry's class and Harry's least favorite person in the world, Marcus Way. Marcus enjoyed picking on anyone he saw but Harry seemed to be his favorite target. Maybe it was because Harry was so small and scrawny and his hair was usually shabby. Maybe it was because he had the worst eyesight in the class. Maybe it was because his voice was thick with the English accent he'd inherited from his mother and some of his words came out sounding funny. Whatever the reason, Marcus seemed to really enjoy making Harry's life completely miserable.
"Leave her alone Marcus," snapped Harry, jumping to his feet to Melissa's defense.
Marcus snorted and looked over at Harry, a glint of maliciousness shinning in his eyes. "Pfft, as if you're one to be talking Harry; I mean, at least she has a family," Marcus sneered at him. Harry winced at the blow, "My dad said that your dad left your mom before you were born. I guess that makes her pretty pathetic, or at least that's what my dad said".
Harry could feel his blood pressure rising with every word that Marcus was sneering at him. It was taking everything he had to stop from flying at Marcus as he was tried to ignore the swelling headache he was developing by the minute. Suddenly they heard a window crack in the back of the classroom and for a moment Harry paused to take a breath. Strange things sometimes happened when he got too angry or scared.
"I...I'VE STILL GOT MIKE!" Harry snapped back.
"Oh please, everyone knows he's not your real dad" Marcus snorted. "You know he's just putting up with you and your mom because he feels sorry for you".
Harry growled. "HOW DO YOU KNOW?" he snapped. "HE...he might like me".
"Please" Marcus snapped back. "He doesn't care, why would anyone care about you and your stupid mom anyways? FREAKS!"
This was as much as Harry could take, the window in the back of the classroom shattered into pieces as Harry jumped out of his chair and lunged himself at Marcus, his fist striking whatever part of the boy he could get hold of. Students were squealing and screaming, jumping out of the boys' way and circling around them to get a good look at the fight that was commencing. He wanted to hurt Marcus as much as Marcus – no… more than Marcus had hurt him. His emerald eyes were glittered with tears of rage and hurt and by now his head was ready to split from his horrible headache. As they fought, Harry could hear the shattering of glass and the shrieks of terrified children around them but for once he didn't care. He raised his fist once more to bring it down on Marcus' thin, rat-like face but the room was spinning too fast for him to aim and before he could make to hit Marcus once more someone grabbed him around the waist and pulled him off of the boy, who was whimpering and clutching his bleeding nose, one of his dark brown eyes was purple and swollen.
"HARRY, MARCUS THAT'S ENOUGH!" he heard Ms. Honey snap as Harry fought to free himself from her tight grip, tasting the blood dripping from his split lip, "BOTH OF YOU WILL GO STRAIGHT TO THE PRINCIPLE'S OFFICE WITH ME, IMMEDIATELY!"
It was not the impulse to beat Marcus to a pulp, but rather the sudden powerful impulse to vomit that caused Harry to suddenly aim a powerful kick at Ms. Honey's shin. Ms. Honey gasped and dropped him to the ground and Harry scurried out of the room down the hallway as Ms. Honey's shrieks echoed after him.
"HARRY POTTER YOU GET BACK INTO THE ROOM, IMMEDIATELY! HARRY! HARRY!"
Harry ignored her as he dashed down the hall, his hand over his mouth, feeling the warm gooey liquid of vomit spill out over his hand and through the gaps between his fingers. With his free hand, Harry threw himself at the door and burst into one of the empty toilet cubicles. He leaned over against the toilet and heaved out whatever was left of his breakfast. Stars twinkled in and out of view and he was tired, his body was aching and he felt extremely dizzy. Just as Harry was forcing the last bit of that morning's breakfast out of his throat he heard someone burst into the boys' bathroom.
"HARRY POTTER YOU GET BACK HERE THIS MINUTE OR YOU WILL BE EXPELLED, THE OFFICE JUST CALLED YOUR…"
But her words were drowned out by the cascade of vomit spilling out into the toilet with an astounding force. They'd called his mother; a fresh wave of guilt washed over him, she'd never forgive him for this, not to mention he'd broken all of the windows in their classroom. It was cost his mother a fortune to reimburse the school, money which he knew they did not have. Harry hadn't meant to break the windows, he hadn't even touched them, they'd just smashed on their own. Things often broke when Harry felt angry or scared and there was nothing he could do about it. Ms. Honey's footsteps approached the door and he heard her knock three times.
"Harry…dear, are you alright?" he heard her say; her voice was much softer now. She must have realized that Harry was throwing up. "Are you throwing up?"
Harry retched up the last bit of vomit and sat there for a moment, kneeled over the toilet bowl as a million different emotions and thoughts whirred through his mind. He felt weak, cold, shaky, dizzy and hollow. After Ms. Honey had knocked for the second time Harry decided it was best to come out of the stall so he got tenderly to his feet, ripped off a piece of toilet paper off of the roll, wiped the vomit from his face and opened the stall door.
"Harry you look awful!" Ms. Honey cried as the door closed behind him. Harry looked into the mirror above one of the sinks just in front of him and could see she was quite right. His face was now a gaunt, pale color and he had dark, hollow circles underneath his emerald eyes. His glasses had shattered again, probably from where Marcus had gotten him and his split lip was still dribbling blood down his chin. Ms. Honey kneeled down so that she was at eye level with him and put her cold hand over his warm forehead.
"I don't feel so good," Harry moaned as Ms. Honey got back to her feet, soaked a paper towel in warm water and wiped down Harry's bloodied, vomit covered face.
Suddenly they heard the intercom blare from outside of the bathroom door and Harry let out a sigh of relief.
"Could Harry Potter please come to the office? Harry Potter please come to the office; thank you."
"That must be your mother," Ms. Honey said throwing the paper towel in the trash and taking Harry's hand in her own. They left the bathroom and began their long walk down the hallway to the office. It was chillier than usual today, he wished he had remembered to bring the sweater that was still locked up in the classroom.
"Harry," said Ms. Honey softly as they walked.
"Yeah Ms. Honey?" he asked, his voice shockingly weaker than it had been only a few moment ago. Well he obviously didn't have a cold but he wish he did, anything but this.
"Don't listen to what Marcus said earlier in class," she advised, "he's just saying that to get on your nerves".
Harry looked down at his feet as Ms. Honey paused and he supposed she was right, but she didn't understand, did she?
"It's okay" he muttered. "I'm used to it".
"Well you shouldn't be" she said. "It's not right for him to say those things, you're not a freak and nor is your mother".
She paused for a moment and Harry looked up at a little ladybug crawling on the ceiling, there seemed to be a lot of them inside now that the weather had taken a drastic drop in temperature.
"Don't worry about the windows either by the way," Ms. Honey added, "I think someone just threw a rock at the window or something and was just trying to scare us. It comes with living in New York I suppose."
Harry tipped her a weak smile as Ms. Honey ruffled his messy jet black hair and gave him a tiny push into the office. Harry's mother, Lily Evans was sitting in one of the chairs in the waiting room. She was still dressed in her work clothes, her dark red hair fell elegantly in front of her identical emerald eyes; she looked up at Harry and Ms. Honey as they walked in and jumped to her feet.
"Harry," she breathed, "oh, thank goodness; love are you alright? You look just awful!"
Harry released Ms. Honey's hand and walked toward his mother, allowing her to pull him into a tight hug and kiss him on the cheek. She paused for a moment squatted down to his eye level and ran her hand up to his forehead, feeling it for a moment before kissing his forehead and pulling away from him. It was a bit embarrassing but at this point he didn't care, he just wanted to go home and sleep.
"You feel warm darling," she said feeling his face again.
"He was in the bathroom when I found him," Ms. Honey informed his mother pushing away from her, "I thought I heard him throwing up".
Harry felt his blood run cold at the expression on his mother's face; a mix of concern and horror, he'd really done it this time. He pulled her into a tight hug and quickly apologized. If he had just stayed home like his mother had told him to he wouldn't be in this mess.
"You threw up sweetheart?" she asked him as Ms. Honey excused herself to go fetch Harry's bag, coat and lunchbox from the classroom.
"A little," Harry admitted his voice surprisingly weak.
"Harry," His mother began firmly.
"It's only a little bit, must have been something that I ate this morning," he insisted, "I'm fine really."
His mother shook her head. "No," she said firmly as she felt Harry's face once more and pulled him closer to her, "no you're sick, you're very, very sick and you're going home right now".
"What about work?" Harry asked as Ms. Honey returned with his overcoat, lunchbox and backpack. His mother took it from the teacher and helped him into his overcoat. "Doesn't Mike need you tonight?"
"Mike will be fine; I'll call him and tell him you're sick. I'm sure he'll understand; now let's get you home so I can give you a nice, warm bath and a big bowl of chicken soup and get you tucked in on the couch with a nice warm blanket and we'll watch a nice movie. I heard Rudolf was coming on tonight on TV, how does that sound?" His mother asked.
Harry pondered this for a moment and his stomach churned at the thought of food. "Well okay…just as long as I don't have to eat, I'm not really hungry right now," he replied, "but you can make some for yourself if you'd like".
His mother smiled as she finished buttoning up Harry's overcoat. "Oh, alright then, whatever you say," she said kissing him on the cheek.
"Good-bye Ms. Honey," Harry called as they walked out of the office, "Merry Christmas!"
"You too Harry," she called as she waved back and the door closed behind them.
-0-
As soon as Harry's mother pushed the door open and Harry stepped outside, the sharp sting of the icy winter wind on his tore face causing him to flinch; his head was throbbing miserably. He stumbled for a moment and nearly fell over as the harsh winter winds roared past he and his mother, but she caught him just in time.
"It's a bit windy out here today," she said loudly over the roar of the wind as she pulled her maroon and gold scarf farther up to her chin as a puff of icy breath escaped her perfect red lips.
Harry nodded and coughed. "Yeah," he said loudly, rasping his sore throat as they walked carefully down the school stairs and down the snow covered sidewalks of New York.
"Where are your mittens and your scarf?" his mother asked taking Harry's icy hand in hers.
"I forgot them I think," Harry replied.
"I told you to grab them before you left for home" Lily scolded.
"I know, I'm sorry" Harry muttered. "I just...I forgot, it was an acci-"
He suddenly clapped his hand over his mouth as a fresh wave of vomit shot up his throat, no doubt it was from the smell wafting off of a nearby hot dog stand.
"Do you have to throw up?" his mother asked.
He quickly nodded and his mother nodded back. The two walked faster, Lily just ahead while Harry trailed close behind her, his small, frozen hand hanging on tight to her warm, mittened one. He kept trying to swallow back the vomit but it just made him want to puke more.
"Do you think you can make it through the rail train ride home?" Lily asked.
Harry quickly shook his head, there was no way he'd last that long.
"Alright" she said worriedly. She took a quick look around until she a spotted a group of bushes in front of a large, corporate looking building. "Here, let's go in there".
Harry quickly dashed over to the bushes and leaned over, allowing the long suppressed, foul smell liquid to come pouring out of his mouth and into the bushes. His mother was squatted down beside him, rubbing his back and shoulders. Today really couldn't get any worse, could it?
Suddenly they heard a loud screech, like the sound of car tires dragging against the concrete. Harry looked back over his shoulder to see a jet black Lamborghini parked up alongside the road. He recognized it almost instantly.
"Mike?" Lily asked. "What's he doing here?"
Harry could only look over for a moment before he felt his stomach churn, he retched again and his mother's attentions quickly returned to him. The sound of footsteps clapping against the icy sidewalk drew closer and stopped right next to his mother.
"Hey" Mike's voice called worriedly. "Are you guys alright?"
"Yes" he heard his mother reply. "Harry's just a bit ill that's all, he threw up at school today and I had to go get him".
"Threw up? Why didn't you call me? I would have gotten him!" Mike argued.
"Don't be silly Mike I'm his mother, besides you're busy. You wouldn't have had time" he heard his mother reply as she squeezed his shoulder. At the moment, all he could focus on was retching as much out of his body as possible.
"I would have made time, you know that" Mike grumbled. "Did you get someone to cover for you for the night?"
"Of course" she replied. She turned back to Harry, "Are you done darling?"
Harry took a deep breath and got shakily to his feet. "Yeah" he replied weakly leaning up against his mother. "It tastes gross".
"Well, I can't imagine stomach acid tastes too good, you alright Pygmy?" Mike asked him.
Mike's dirty blond hair was windblown and his face looked unusually clean shaven, minus of course the goatee which he always had. His eyes, a combination of bright blue and gray, scanned Harry with a look of concern. His Armani leather winter coat was nearly covered in soft white snow while most of his face was covered with a soft, wool black scarf.
"Hi" Harry replied weakly, his body shaking as he stood back up. "I thought you were at work".
"I was actually on my way back from work when I spotted you two" he admitted pulling off his black leather gloves. He felt Harry's forehead and neck briefly. "You're burning up".
"I know" he said. "Guess I'm pretty sick, huh?"
"Well I'd say so" he said as Lily passed Harry her gloves and scarf.
"But mum...don't you nee-" Harry asked.
"Don't be silly, you need them more" she replied. "You're the sick one after all"
"Whoa, whoa wait" Mike cut in. "You guys aren't walking all the way to the subway are you?"
"It's not far" Lily insisted.
"What are you crazy?" he snapped. "It's below freezing, you have no gloves or scarf and Harry's just finished puking his guts out, there's no way on earth I'm going to allow you two to take the train home. Get in, I'm driving you".
"Would you? That would be wonderful thank you so much" Lily insisted.
Mike suddenly grabbed Harry and carried him over to his car. It was nice and warm inside and the warm leather felt wonderful against his chilled body. He wouldn't have moved anywhere for all the money in the world. "It's no trouble" he replied.
Lily gave Harry a sideways glance and he nodded. He'd much rather take the car then walk. Lily climbed into the front seat and Mike into the driver's seat.
"Thank you again for driving us" she replied.
"Don't mention it" he said. "It's no problem at all, besides it's best that we get Harry home as soon as we can and my car's much faster".
Mike unwrapped his scarf and draped it over Harry's shivering form. "That help any Pygmy?" Mike asked.
Harry nodded, curling up into the scarf. "A bit" he replied. "Thank you".
"Don't worry love" Lily said reaching over her chair and stroking Harry's face fondly. "We'll be home soon".
-0-
Mike's car pulled over at a quaint brick building in Inwood and Mike pushed the buzzer on the door as Lily gathered a half asleep Harry from the back seat. There was a click and Mike allowed Lily to step inside first and followed in close behind.
The building entrance was quaint. The walls were adorned with white wall paper and was brightly lit by a row of florescent lights. A Christmas wreath hung from the inside of the door the walls were decorated with red and green tinsel and a small community tree sat in the corner near the elevator.
Harry caught sight of their neighbor, Dean Wills, checking his mail as they walked in and he turned to wave to them as they entered.
"Hey Lily, you guys are back early" he greeted. He looked over at Mike and arched an eyebrow. "Mike too. Must be a special occasion".
Dean was about average height for a man with almond shaped dark eyes, black hair and a goatee and the slightest hint of a five o'clock shadow. His square glasses were balanced precariously on his arched nose. He was bundled up in a black overcoat, scarf and wool gloves and covered which appeared to be covered in snow.
"Thanks Dean" Mike replied coolly.
"Sure thing" Dean replied.
"You're actually home a bit early" Lily asked. "Something up?
"Kinda" Dean replied shutting his mailbox door and stuffing a small pile of envelopes into his coat pocket. "Mary Margret's sick so I got Kyle to cover for me for the night. I'm off to get her some Tylanol".
"Oh, the poor dear, I hope she feels better" Lily said. "It was very nice of you to do that for her".
Dean turned pink. "Yeah well...she's always been there for us so I thought hey, I'll be nice for once" he said.
"I wish you'd just ask her out" Mike said.
"That's what you did with Lily and look how that turned out" Dean said shrugging.
Mike rolled his eyes.
"Completely different circumstances" Lily insisted.
"Eh, we'll see" Dean said craning his neck to get a good at Harry who was cuddled into his mother's chest. "So what's going on with short stop here? Feelin' a little under the weather too huh?"
Harry nodded. "I threw up in class today" he replied weakly.
"Yikes, well I've been there and done that and trust me, it ain't pretty" he replied.
Harry nodded. "I know" he said laughing weakly.
"Well I've gotta go...get medicine and check on Mary Margret" Dean said.
"And we need to get you upstairs for a bath" Lily said. "Have a nice night Dean".
"Same to you" Dean replied as the elevator dinged and they stepped inside.
The elevator ride seemed longer than usual, Mike was talking to his mother about someone he'd met at his job as Harry watched the flashing red light ascend with every ding from over his mother's shoulder. First floor, he wondered half-heartedly if there were elevators like this one in England where his father lived? Second floor; he wondered where his father worked, was he a journalist like his mother? The red light slowly ascended, much longer than Harry remembered it ever being before. Fourth, fifth, sixth floor until at last...seventh floor. There was loud ding and the sliding metal doors opened to reveal an elegant marble paved hallway. They were home at last. Harry followed his mother over to their apartment door, number 712, and waited patiently for her to open the door. He was so tired he could barely stand up straight. There was a click and Lily pushed the door open.
"Go on in love" she said giving Harry a tiny push forward. "You're covered in vomit, why don't we give you a bath and then you can go to bed for a little nap"
Harry nodded, for the first time ever, a nice warm bath and bed sounded really good. "Yeah" he said. "That sounds great".
Lily grinned and kissed his cheek.
"What about you Mike?" Harry asked weakly. "Are you going to stay?"
Mike shook his head. "No, not for long" he replied. "I'm going to go ahead and make some lunch for your mom and chat with her for a while before I go".
Harry nodded. "Okay" he said. "Just don't go without saying goodbye".
Mike grinned. "Wouldn't dream of it Pygmy" he said ruffling up Harry's messy jet black hair.
-0-
If Mike was in the kitchen preparing lunch then Harry couldn't smell it, which was just fine for him as the smell of food just seemed to make him ill. His mother turned the knob on the bathroom faucet as the last few drops of steaming hot water fell into the full bath.
"Alright love" she said folding up Harry's clothes as he passed them to her. "It's all ready".
"Thank you" Harry said. He stepped into the warm water gingerly; his right toe first, then his foot, then his left toe and foot until he was adjusted enough to settle comfortably inside the warm water. Harry felt as though he could just melt inside the warm water, which felt like heaven after shivering in the freezing cold and being soaked in vomit.
"How does that feel?" his mother asked running her hand through the water. "Better?"
"Much better" Harry replied as he laid back against the back of the tub.
His mother smiled as she pulled a washcloth out of the nearby cabinet and wet it down in the bathwater.
"You're not gonna wash me are you?" Harry moaned sitting up. "I don't want a bath, I just want to lie here".
"Well I'm sorry sweetheart but after vomiting all over yourself like you did earlier, you need it" she said dousing the washcloth in soap. "Close your eyes"
Harry sighed and shut his eyes tight as his mother washed his face and behind his ears.
"Alright" Lily said. "Clean yourself off then".
Harry doused his face in water and rubbed his nose. "Yuck, I hate baths".
Lily giggled as she moved a piece of wet, jet black hair from Harry's tired eyes, bright green. "It's astounding just how much you look like your father" she replied. "Yet you're nothing like him".
Harry sat up in the bath and rested his wet chin on the edge of the bathtub. "Is that a bad thing?" he asked.
"Of course not!" Lily replied looking shocked. "Harry trust me, you don't want to be like your father. He's a spoiled, selfish, cheating, arrogant-"
"Why do you hate dad so much?" Harry cut in.
Lily sighed and set the soapy washcloth down. Just the thought of his father seemed to make her angry. "You know why Harry" she said.
"I mean...I know why it's just..." he sighed. "He's still my dad".
Lily sighed. "Maybe by blood he is Harry but I tell you that in all other meanings of the word James Potter is no more your father than the Prince of Wales" she replied. "And that's the truth".
"He doesn't even know I exist, does he?" Harry asked.
Lily snorted. "Pfft, as if he'd even care" she replied coldly.
Harry clinched his fists. He knew he was supposed to hate his father for what he'd done to him and his mother but there just something about the situation that didn't make it feel right. He'd never even met his father before so how could he make a judgement?
"I don't know, he's still my dad after all so...he's still part of me isn't he?" Harry asked.
Lily shrugged. "I don't know" she replied. "If he is, I don't see that part of him in you that's for sure".
"You don't...think I'll ever see him?" Harry asked.
Lily snorted. "If you're lucky you'll never have to" she replied. "People like him Harry they're just...no good, but enough about him now hmm? Besides you don't need your father anyway, you have Mike remember?"
"But Mike's not my real dad" he said. "I mean...why does he even put up with us anyway?"
"Put up with us? Harry what are you talking about?" Lily demanded. "I realize you're sick but still, that's no way to talk about Mike after all he does for you. Who told you such a horrible thing?"
Harry bit his lip. "Marcus Way" he replied. "He told me that".
Lily grinned. "Oh he's just trying to cause trouble" she said. "Mike is more of a father to you than James will ever be. He does love you, really".
"Funny" Harry replied coldly. "He's never told me".
Lily giggled. "Darling that's just how men are" she said. "And Mike's no different, actions speak louder than words. If I had known that a few years ago I would have known better than to bother with your father but if I hadn't I wouldn't have gotten you so...I can't say I really regret it now can I?"
Harry shook his head. "No, I guess not" he replied.
Lily stroked his cheek fondly. "Of course not" she confirmed. "Enough of this though, why don't we finish cleaning you up and then maybe put you down for little nap? You look exhausted".
-0-
After the bath Harry followed his mother out of the bathroom but one whiff of lunch wafting from the kitchen had sent him reeling in the bathroom again.
"And after we just took a bath" Lily sighed as Harry leaned over the toilet bowl. She wiped his face down with a piece of toilet paper. "Oh well, it can't be helped".
"Sorry" Mike apologized. "I didn't know it was this bad".
"It's alright" Lily said.
"I can't believe there's anything left to puke up" Mike said.
"Urgh" Harry gagged. "It tastes so gross".
"No," Lily said kissing Harry's cheek. "It's all just stomach acid now, nothing left, poor thing".
"Hey" Mike said. "Why don't you go eat? I'll take it from here".
Lily looked down at Harry. "You sure?" she asked.
Mike nodded. "Yeah" he said. "I'm positive".
-0-
While Lily was in the kitchen eating lunch Mike had taken Harry into his room to prepare him for bed.
"But it's still afternoon" Harry asked as Mike helped button up his pajama shirt. "Why do I have to wear these?"
"Because, trust me" he said pulling the covers of his bed back . "You won't be getting out of bed for the rest of the day, now get in mister".
Harry climbed into bed and cuddled up against his soft, fluffy spiderman pillow as Mike pulled the covers over Harry's shivering body.
"Now I don't want to see you or hear you getting up you hear? You need to sleep" Mike said pulling the curtains over his window.
Harry nodded and Mike took a seat at Harry's side, removed his glasses and set them on Harry's bedside table. He was about to get up to leave again when he suddenly paused, leaned over Harry and felt his neck and forehead again.
"You're roasting" he said. "Are you sure you don't want to try to take some medicine?"
Harry shook his head. "NO!" he said burying himself in his blankets. "I don't want to! It'll make me vomit again!"
"Alright, alright take it easy" he said. "Here's what we'll do, you take a nice nap and we'll see if we can get you to take some you wake up alright? And if you can't down it well...then you can't down it".
Harry peeked over his blankets and nodded. "Mike, when I get better...we'll go ice skating, right?" he asked.
Mike grinned. "Absolutely, first thing" he said. "Rockefeller center?"
"Yeah" Harry said nodding eagerly.
Mike grinned. "You've got it" he said. "Now you get some sleep, alright?"
Harry nodded as Mike kissed his cheek. Harry heard his footsteps as he moved across the room and over to the bedroom door. It opened with a creak.
"Good night pygmy" Mike said.
But Harry didn't reply; he was already fast asleep.
Meanwhile, nearly half way across the world. . .
"Ninety-nine bottles of butterbeer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of beer, take one down, pass it around-"
An office door opened and a tall, slender man with messy jet black hair, glasses and hazel eyes in a sleek black cloak, white collared shirt and black tie stepped into the room, flipping through a stack of forms in his hand a whistling the last few lines of the song that two other men in black and white were chanting. A third man in mostly patched and frayed robes was pretending not to notice them as he turned a page of his newspaper reading the words, THE DAILY PROPHET, in big black bold letters.
"Well" said the first man, James Potter, tossing the documents onto his desk. "I'm glad to see so much is being accomplished here".
"Frank and I were just trying to remember that old drinking song we used to sing in school" the second man, a handsome fellow with dark brown hair and black eyes named Sirius Black, insisted. "We were bored. Did you get the mission statements?"
"I suppose" he said sighing and passing Frank a stack of documents; Frank thanked James and left. "I'm not really sure if you deserve them though".
"Well then could you at least tell me if we're doing anything interesting?" he asked. "I swear if we're stuck babysitting that Veranda girl I'm going snap. Such a waste!"
"Oh, absolutely" James replied. "She's only the sole witness to the biggest murder case we've had in almost ten years. Besides, I thought you liked her".
Sirius snorted. "It was great at first, but then her flirting got a bit annoying after a while" he replied.
James snorted. "You mean after you had shagged her" he replied flipping uninterestedly through the documents.
"Hey!" Sirius snapped. "That's a bit harsh, besides she wanted it not me".
"Yeah, yeah" James replied.
"Hmm, this is interesting, did you read this Prongs?" the third man, Remus Lupin, asked. He wore a rather shabby robes and his light brown hair was already flecked with grey; his arms and legs were bandaged and he had a great gash across his pale face.
"What is it?" James asked looking over at Remus.
"They say there's a new prophecy child" Remus replied.
"Oh please, not this again" Sirius groaned. "Haven't we put this to bed already?"
"Guess not" James replied.
"You remember that death eater we caught last week don't you, Rastenbourgh? Well it looks like they managed to get out of him that You-Know-Who's been slinking around America, where they say the other prophecy child lives" Remus read.
"America?" James asked. "Why on earth would the kid be living there?"
Remus shrugged. "No clue" he replied.
"Is the kid British?" Sirius asked.
Remus nodded.
"Then what's he doing in America?" James asked.
Remus shook his head. "No idea" he replied. "But Prongs, Dumbledore came in while you were gone, said he wanted to see you in Moody's old office".
"Dumbledore?" James asked. "Isn't he at the school right about now?"
Remus nodded. "Yes, but apparently it was rather urgent so he came down to see you" he said.
"Must be" James replied. "No one seems to get as much of a kick out of Hogwarts' Christmases than him, he'd rather not miss it. I'd best go meet him".
"Good luck" Sirius replied as James opened the door. "Hey Moony, what's for dinner?"
"Why are you asking me, I'm not a house elf" James heard Remus reply as he stepped out of the room and shut the door behind him.
-0-
"So, how was the meeting?" Sirius asked as he and Remus met up with James outside of Moody's office about an hour later.
James shrugged. "Nothing special" he replied.
"What was it that was so important" Remus asked.
"Dumbledore asked me to track down that prophecy child" he replied. "Apparently he's in New York city".
"So...he knows who the child is?" Remus asked.
"I suppose so" James said. "But he wouldn't tell me!"
"What?" Remus and Sirius chorused.
"But then...how are we gonna find the kid if you don't even know who he is?" Sirius demanded.
"I don't know!" James moaned. "He just said that I'd know him when I saw him!"
"So...it's a boy?" Remus asked.
James nodded.
"Well...that's a start!" Remus said.
"Oh yeah. a great start" Sirius replied sarcastically. "That only leaves us the entire pre-adolescent male population of New York city".
"You know, there's almost no point in trying to remain optimistic about these things anymore, they all just get shot down anyway" Remus sighed.
"What am I gonna do?" James groaned. "I mean...I can't possibly find the child with no leads".
"You have leads!" Sirius reminded him. "He's a boy and he lives in New York city, remember?"
James groaned.
"I think he means real leads" Remus replied.
"And what does he mean by I'll know him when I see him anyway?" James asked. "What, is the kid gonna be glowing or something?"
"No way" Sirius said. "If it was that easy You-Know-Who would have gotten him already".
"Well, think about it" Remus said. "How do you recognize people James?"
James shrugged. "I dunno, I usually only recognize people I've seen before" he said.
"So" said Remus. "Maybe that's it, maybe you've seen him before".
"Or...or maybe you've seen someone related to, or who knows the kid, before" Sirius suggested.
"Yeah" James pondered. "But...why me?"
"Beats me" Remus and Sirius chorused.
"You never know with Dumbledore" Remus replied. "He's always got some kind of bizarre surprise hidden up his sleeve".
"Yeah" Sirius replied. "Hey, what if he was your son, or something like that?"
"Huh?" James asked.
"Yeah" Sirius joked. "And the only reason you'd be able to recognize him is because he looked just like you!"
Remus laughed and James gave a weak chuckle.
"Sirius, this is New York we're talking about, not the Twilight Zone" Remus said. "James doesn't have any children".
"Yeah me...a father" James said, the enthusiasm in his voice quickly faltering. "That's mental..."
"Could you imagine Prongs as a father?" Sirius teased.
Remus laughed. "Oh Merlin" he said.
"I mean, I could just see it now" Sirius joked.
James tried to throw in a laugh or two as Sirius went on and on, Remus laughing along side him, but it just wasn't there and it wasn't because of the fact that they were making fun of him. Truthfully, in his heart of hearts, he'd always been hoping that out there, somewhere, she had survived and that there was something like that out there for him. What he wouldn't give to have a family of his own. A wife and children just like he'd always planned it. But the woman he'd loved more than anything in the world had left him and he'd never been able to get over her. Despite all their teasing he knew there was no way that prophecy child could possibly be his. He knew just as well as anyone that the night she had left him disaster struck. She had run away, due to...circumstances concerning only him, to her parents' house and, just before James could get to her to get her back, there was an attack. Nothing was left and everyone in the house had been killed including his beloved Lily Evans.
"Hey Prongs" Sirius asked. "You want to go the Leaky Cauldron?"
James shook his head. "Nah" he said. "I'm actually getting kind of tired, what say you guys we just go home?"
"You sure mate?" Sirius asked. "You usually like to go out for a drink after work?"
"Yeah" James said. "It's been a long day, you know? And we've still got to start planning our trip to New York, I mean we have a lot of searching to do, we may as well start trying to find some leads and we should at least find something to do with our down time".
"Oh, alright" Sirius groaned. "Although I'd still like a drin-ouch! What?"
Remus growled at him and gestured to James.
"We're going home" Remus said curtly.
-0-
"Ah, home at last" Sirius announced as he stepped through the door, brushing the snow off of his sleek black cloak
"Padfoot, if you're going to fling snow everywhere could you at least wait until we get inside? You'll get water everywhere" Remus insisted, kicking as much of the rapidly melting powdery ice out of the doorway.
"Don't worry about it Moony" James said shutting the door behind him. He pulled a sleek, polished wooden baton out of the pocket in his work robes and flicked it carelessly at the pile of snow. In an instant the pile began to dissolve until nothing remained but a clean, soft, wool carpet. "See, no harm done".
James hung his cloak up on the nearby coat rack and stepped into the living room.
"Wow, spotless" he noted.
Spotless indeed; not a speck of dust lie anywhere in the grand, airy, living room. The great stone fireplace at the front of the room was scrubbed clean and a stack of thick pieces of wood were stored neatly in the wrought iron firewood holder. The fine woven crest hanging above it was neatly cleaned and ironed. The scarlet couches gathered around it, so comfortable you practically disappeared into them when you sat down, were neatly cleaned. The great scarlet and gold rug was scrubbed, dried and pressed to perfection and the curtains were all neatly dusted. The polished hardwood staircase leading up to the second floor of the house was dusted to perfection.
"Pinky must have been busy today" Sirius noted. "Where is she anyway?"
"Haven't the foggiest" James noted. "I wonder if she cleaned the kitchen too".
"Knowing her, she's probably done the whole house" Remus noted.
"Fantastic" said James. "Now let's just try not to trash it again so quickly this time".
"Right..." Sirius faltered. "So...are we going to eat?"
James nodded. "I'd think so, is Pinky around?" he said glancing from Sirius to Remus.
"Master" they heard a squeaky voice call.
All three men whirred around to see a tiny elf-like creature with large pointed ears and a large pink tomato like nose wearing a spotless floral pillowcase and a tea cozy on her head.
"Ah there you are" James said. "Nice job on the house".
"Pinky always works her hardest to please her master" Pinky squeaked. "Are Master and his friends hungry? What can Pinky make for you?"
James shrugged. "I'm not sure, what do you guys think?" he asked.
"Chicken" Sirius blurted.
"Steak?" Remus asked.
"Steak? We had that last night" Sirius groaned.
"Don't patronize me, the full moon is tonight again and I'm not in the mood" Remus growled.
"So we all have to suffer because you get crabby every once a month?" Sirius demanded.
"Oh yes it must be such a dreadful life, living in the country with all this space in a beautiful home and eating steaks" Remus said sarcastically hanging his coat up on the coat rack.
James sighed. "Every night" he said muttering as he hung his coat up beside Sirius'.
"It's no trouble master" Pinky said. "Pinky can make both".
"Thank you Pinky" James said. "About an hour then?"
"Thirty minutes at most sir" Pinky replied scurrying to the kitchen.
"You two hear that? Thirty minutes at most. Now you can stop your bickering" James said.
"It wouldn't take as long if we didn't have to wait for Moony's steak" Sirius muttered.
Remus rolled his eyes as he laid down on the couch and closed his eyes. "I won't say anything" he replied drowsily.
"You could just eat chicken" Sirius said.
But Remus didn't retort; he was already snoring loudly on the couch. Sirius pulled out his wand and moved towards Remus but James stopped him.
"Just let him sleep, you know why he's crabby" James said sitting cross-legged on the cushy red armchair and began to flip through the papers that Dumbledore had given him. "Besides you're both getting what you want anyway".
-0-
Dinner was brief but delicious nonetheless. As usual Pinky had outdone herself and whatever leftovers there were were packed away. Remus had retired to the shack outback and James and Sirius accompanied him until quite late when Remus the werewolf had fallen asleep they decided to head inside for the rest of the night as it was quite cold. James and Sirius stayed awake for a bit, sitting alone in the den by the raging fire in the fireplace.
"I thought he'd never go to sleep" Sirius said flopping down onto the armchair beside the couch that James was sprawled out onto.
"Well you're being a wonderful friend aren't you?" James said snidely.
Sirius looked stunned. "No need to be rude. What's got your nickers in a twist anyhow?" he asked
James sighed and sat up. "Nothing" he muttered.
Sirius blinked. "Doesn't sound like nothing" he said. "Tell me, you know you can, I'm your best mate after all".
James shrugged. "I don't think you'd understand" he said.
"What do you mean?" Sirius asked.
James licked his lips and looked over at Sirius. "You...you don't really think I'd make a bad father...do you?" he asked.
"Huh?" Sirius. "What do you mean?"
"What you and Remus said earlier" James said.
"What...that?" Sirius asked. "Oh...aw come on mate, we were just messing around. You know we didn't mean it..."
"But is it true?" James asked. "Do you really think I'd be a bad father?"
Sirius snorted. "Of course I don't! I think you'd be a brilliant father, but why do you suddenly sound so concerned about this?" he asked.
James sighed. "I suppose I didn't tell you this...I've never told anyone this but...it's been bothering me. Before she died, not long before we were supposed to get married, Lily and I...well we slept together" he said.
"Bloody hell, are you serious mate?" Sirius asked. "You mean you shagged her and you never told me!"
"It's not like that!" James snapped. "Yes I did...but it was more than just that. I mean we were in love it wasn't really just a shag".
"I don't know what you're thinking but a shag's a shag to me, no matter who's giving it to you..." Sirius murmured.
"I knew you wouldn't get it!" James scoffed.
"Aw don't be stupid mate I was just kidding" Sirius insisted. "Come on Prongs".
James sighed. "I've just been thinking, ever since you brought that up...what if well...what if Lily was pregnant when she died? What if, right now, I'm supposed to be a father?"
Sirius snorted. "Doesn't matter either way now, does it? I mean Lily's dead now and well...I mean she was the one who-" he babbled.
"I know, I know but still..." James cut in. "I mean what if...by some miracle she's still alive and she and this kid who's supposed to be mine is really out there somewhere?"
"But she's not alive...she's dead" Sirius said.
"I'm not sure I can believe that...not completely anyway. They never found any of her remains" James added.
"Probably because there were none" Sirius said. "Look mate you're over thinking this".
James sighed. "Yeah, I suppose you're right" he replied. "Wishful thinking...".
"I doubt it" Sirius said. "You're probably just stressed".
James chuckled. "Yeah, that's it...stress..." he said ruffling up the back of his already messy jet black hair. An unfortunate old habit of his he'd never quite broken. "I should probably just go to bed, you going too?"
Sirius yawned and stretched out his arms. "Yeah, I suppose so" he replied.
There was a loud pop and a huge bear-like black dog stood where Sirius had once been. It trotted forward and licked James' hand as he knelt down to pet it.
"You have your own room you know" he said. "You don't have to be my watch dog anymore".
The dog shook it's shaggy head and nudged James' hand with it's wet nose, growling at him in a low tone.
"Oh alright then just keep to the end of the bed will you? You don't know how unpleasant it is to wake up to your foul dog breath in the morning" James said opening the door to his bedroom and allowing the big black dog to trot in first with him following.
James was up for a bit longer, flipping through Dumbledore's papers in his bed. Sirius the dog was sprawled out across his bed, his head resting against James' lap, snoring as James stroked his head.
"It's like looking for a needle in a haystack, and in a foreign country too" James noted taking off his glasses. "I don't get it though, why does he want me to do it though? Why should I be able to recognize him over someone else?"
James pushed the idea from his mind as he flicked off the lights and sunk down into his blankets. Sirius the dog opened an eye and looked up at James who had already disappeared in a symphony of loud snores.
I sure hope that Dumbledore knows what he's doing. I'm not sure if Prongs will be ready to find out the truth yet...