So, Father's Day is coming up, and I have started to wonder what to get my dad. While pondering different gift ideas and browsing fanfiction, I came up with an idea for a story! Hope you all like!
Oh, and Happy Father's Day to any dads out there!
Disclaimer: Not mine or this scene would have totally ended up in 'The Prisoner of Azkaban'.
000
"Move over, Fred! I can't see what I'm writing!" Harry looked up as Ginny shoved her older brother aside and raised his eyebrows at the chaotic group of redheads huddled over a piece of parchment. Percy, Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny were all arguing and trying to write on the parchment at the same time.
"If you weren't my little sister…" Fred trailed off as Ginny gave him a glare worthy of a basilisk. Percy rolled his eyes and used a summoning charm to pull the parchment into his hands.
"Hey! I wasn't finished yet!" Ron complained, pointing a quill at his older brother, who sighed and handed it back. Another few moments of scribbling, and Ron had apparently finished his message. Before he could hand it back to Percy, George grabbed it and added a few lines to whatever he had written.
"Are you all finished?" Percy asked in an annoyed tone. When his four siblings nodded, he picked up the parchment and sealed it with a tap of his wand.
"Wait! I forgot to write something in my note!" Fred gasped, then cracked up when Percy gave him a glare.
"If looks could kill, Perce…" George laughed.
"Then we would all be dead!" Fred finished.
Harry was still watching with amusement when Ron returned to his seat next to his best friend. "What was all that about?" he chuckled, gesturing towards where the Weasley siblings had been gathered.
Ron shrugged. "We were all signing a Father's Day card for Dad."
Harry bit the inside of his cheek and nodded. How could he have forgotten? It was that time of year when fathers were celebrated for being wonderful. After a few more minutes of slogging through a Potions essay, Harry got up and went to his dorm. He couldn't stand being surrounded by all these happy students, sending off letters and small gifts to their fathers when he could not.
With a sigh, Harry flopped down on his bed and stared up unseeingly. In his mind's eye, he could picture his father's face, as clearly as if he was standing in front of the Mirror of Erised again. After the events of the past few weeks, he could also clearly see the shimmering white stag patronus, the same form as his father's animagus, galloping across the lake.
Thoughts of his patronus turned into thoughts of Sirius and Lupin. Harry could not help but feel a little guilty, though he knew that there was nothing he could have done to help his godfather and the kind werewolf anymore then he had. Though he hadn't told Ron or Hermione, he had had a few nightmares of watching the bloodthirsty werewolf attack the massive black dog again, with a white stag running up and suddenly being attacked by a rat. In most of the dreams, the stag died. In the few that it didn't, a small terrier and an otter that Harry somehow associated with Ron and Hermione died.
A ghost of a thought crossed Harry's mind, but he brushed it away. He didn't know Sirius well enough to send him a Father's Day card. That idea had 'awkwardness' written all over it. As much as he loved his newly found godfather, they just didn't know much about each other yet. And Lupin had been his professor just a few weeks ago, so that would have been even weirder.
"Harry? You up here, mate?" Ron's voice interrupted his train of thought. "You okay?" he asked, seeing the unhappy look in his friend's green eyes.
"Yeah." Harry said vaguely, "Just thinking about Sirius. I hope he's okay."
"Me, too. Of course, we'd hear right away if he was captured, right? So he must be fine." Ron reasoned. He frowned as Harry nodded, still looking unhappy, and sat down on his own bed. "Something else is bothering you, isn't it?"
"I'll be okay." Harry said, dodging the question.
Ron thought a few moments before coming to a solution. "Oh, Harry, I wasn't even thinking earlier when I said that. I'm sorry."
"Not your fault." He mumbled. They sat quietly for a few moments, each absorbed in his own thoughts about the holiday.
Suddenly, Ron grinned. "I have an idea," he said, "and I think it'll make you feel better."
O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.
19 Years Later…
"OW! James!"
"Shut up, Al! I barely touched you!"
"Then what's that red mark on my arm from!"
"…"
"DAD! James hit me!"
Harry smiled slightly and put down the copy of the Daily Prophet he had been pursuing. It sometimes felt like he was back at Hogwarts, being the peace-maker between Ron and Hermione, as his sons argued so much. Ginny often said that if she closed her eyes, she could imagine that she was back at the Burrow when all nine Weasleys' were living there, only there were fewer explosions coming from upstairs as, thankfully, James didn't have a twin brother to experiment and pull pranks with.
"Alright, boys, that's enough." Harry called up the stairs. "Go find something a bit quieter to do."
James and Albus poked their heads out of James's room and looked down towards their father, identical looks of confusion on their faces. They obviously hadn't realized how noisy they had gotten.
As Harry went back to his paper, James turned and shoved the seven year old out of his room. Albus stumbled out into the hall and gave the nine year old redhead a glare, which James ignored in favor of quietly steering his younger brother towards their parents' bedroom.
"What are you doing?" Al whispered furiously as James closed the door behind them.
"I dunno." He shrugged.
"Then why are you dragging me into it?"
"Cause I can." James smiled mischievously, living up to both of his namesakes: the original James Potter and Sirius Black. He spotted something on the nightstand and made a beeline towards it. Picking it up, he saw that it was an old photo album they had both seen a few times.
Both boys were quiet as they flipped through the first few pages of pictures, James because he was looking at the original James Potter, the one who had died to save his family, and Albus because he felt like he was looking at pictures of his future self.
The next few pages were happier, showing their parents and Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron while and a little after they were at school. Some of the pictures also showed Uncle George, the late Uncle Fred, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, and a bunch of other people they recognized as friends of their parents. There was even an old newspaper clipping showing Granddad, Grandma, Uncle Bill, Uncle Charlie, Uncle Percy, Uncles Fred and George, Uncle Ron, and Mum with pyramids in the background, obviously from the time they had visited Egypt.
James skipped the next few pages; it was all mushy stuff from Bill and Fleur's, George and Angelina's, Percy and Audrey's, Ron and Hermione's, and Mum and Dad's weddings, not to mention baby pictures of all the cousins and James, Al, and Lily.
"There's nothing very interesting in there." James said, setting the album back, but Albus picked it up again.
"I thought I saw…" he murmured, rifling through the empty pages in the back. "Aha!" Grinning, he pulled an old piece of parchment from on the last pages. James grabbed it and read aloud quietly.
Happy Father's Day, Dad!
You know, I wasn't too sure when Ron suggested I do this. It sounded crazy; writing a letter to my dead father, but now I think it somehow fits with everything that's been going on. I mean, I meet up with Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew, all your old friends, learn that you, Sirius, and Peter became animagus so you could hang out with Remus during the full moon, find out that Sirius was framed for murdering all those people and betraying you when it was actually Peter, and then see Remus and Sirius fight, werewolf-vs.-dog, because Remus could smell humans, (aka, Ron, Hermione, and me). And my patronus turns out to be 'Prongs'.
Anyways, now that I've got that out of my system, I just want to say, I really miss you Dad. And Mum, of course, but this is a Father's Day letter. Some days, most days, really, I would give anything to have just one more minute with you.
Why did you have to die? I mean, I know why you died, but what I want to know is why us? Why our family? Why did Voldemort have to come after me, kill you and Mum, and leave me an orphan to be raised by the Dursleys? I know now that if anything ever happened to you, Sirius was intended to take care of me, but he was in Azkaban for thirteen years, slowly going a little insane. Was there ever a Plan B that didn't involve Mum's sister? I mean, I can see why Remus wouldn't be an ideal choice, with the whole full-moon-werewolf thing, and Peter betrayed you to Voldemort, but there really wasn't anyone else who could take care of me?
I'm sorry, Dad. I don't mean to be taking out my anger on you like this. I've just been thinking these things for the past few weeks, and I've gotta get them out at some point. But the point is, Dad, I love you, and I miss you, and I wish you were still here.
Love,
Harry James Potter
James looked up slowly, pale beneath his red hair. "I had no idea…" he said softly.
"Me either." Albus whispered. "Poor Dad…"
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"Happy Father's Day, Daddy!" Harry smiled and lifted up little Lily in the air, making her shriek with laughter as he spun in slow circles. He set her back down as the boys approached.
"Happy Father's Day, Dad!" they chorused. Albus smiled and held out a small package shyly.
"Thank you, Al." he said, smiling back at his son.
"It was James's idea." The boy mumbled. Harry thanked his other son and opened the gift. He pulled out a piece of parchment and started to read silently.
"Come here, boys." He said softly when he finished reading. Albus and James walked forward and Harry pulled them into a bone-crushing hug that would have made Mrs. Weasley proud. "Thank you." He whispered, "Thank you so much."
Ginny, curious as to what her sons had made to evoke such a strong reaction from their father, stooped and grabbed the parchment from where it had fallen on the floor. She led Lily into the kitchen and sat down with her daughter in her lap and began to read.
Happy Father's Day, Dad!
You're going to figure this out at some point, so we might as well tell you now: we found the letter you wrote to your dad. We had no idea that things had been so rough back then, even before Voldemort showed up again. I mean, yeah, we knew the story of how you found the Sorsorer, no, Corsarer, no, Sorserer, no, Scorcarer, no, Sorcerer's Stone (ha! Finally got it!) in your first year, and you saved Mum from the basilisk in second year, and you were stalked by Sirius in your third year, but we didn't really think about the emotional stuff you went through before and after all that stuff. It was just adventure stories to us.
But we didn't write this to tell you that we think we understand a tiny bit of how you felt back then. No, we wrote this because I think Granddad Potter would want us to. He would've wanted to tell you he loved you, too, and he missed you a whole lot, and he was proud of you for being so brave and stuff. We can't put words in his mouth, but I think that's how he would've felt.
Anyways, Dad, we just wanted to let you know that we love you. Oh, and Happy Father's Day again!
Love,
James & Albus
Ginny felt a tear trickle down her cheek. She had no idea her boys could be so sensitive.