Just a little one shot about James Sirius Potter learning to count, and realising that something just doesn't add up.

Thank You to BACKINBLACK5612 for the help!

Hope you enjoy!

James Learns to Count

James Sirius Potter, the eldest son of Harry and Ginny Potter had recently learnt how to count. He was sat in the back garden of the house that he had lived in all four years of his life. Being mid-June they had had no rain for a week and so the hard ground was dry and sandy. Using his right index finger was drawing the newly learnt numbers in the dirt.

"One…two…three…four…five." He chanted them out loud as he did so.

"I have one brother and one sister. That makes two. With me it's three." He finished triumphantly, proud of both his counting and his adding skills. His success bolstered him, so he carried on with his numerical documentation. "I have one dad and one mum and she has one mum and dad making two grandparents. I have…"he trailed off, for James could not count quiet how many Aunts and Uncles he had.

The momentary pause caused him to realise something that he had never realised before. Frowning, he clambered to his feet and ran, with all the urgency of a four year old on a mission, back into the house. His dad was sat at the kitchen table, flicking absently through a newspaper. His head jerked up as James clambered noisily onto the chair beside his.

"James." He scolded, as he saw the mud caked trousers and grubby hands. "What have you been up to?" He sighed with affectionate exasperation. With a wave of his hand the dirt was gone.

James grinned before frowning soberly. Harry noticed.

"What's the matter, Buddy?" he asked softly, abandoning his newspaper and turning in his chair to face his son.

"I have a mum and dad, mum has a mum and dad and Rose's mum and dad both have a mum and dad." He frowned even harder and Harry felt his stomach plummet as he realised where this was going. "So why don't you have a mum and dad."

Harry stood slowly from the kitchen table. "Come with me." He led James from the room and up to the bedroom that he shared with Ginny.

Under the bed was an old shoe box containing all the important things that Harry didn't like to look at. He sat on the edge of the bed, James bouncing up to join him.

Reverently, he lifted the faded lid. On top was a small silver medallion attached to a tab of red fabric. The Order of Merlin, First Class; awarded to Harry for exceptional service to both the wizarding and muggle worlds. Beneath this was a photograph of Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape, a copy of Sirius Black's will, a list of all those who perished at the Battle of Hogwarts, the Marauders Map, a broken mirror, several newspaper clippings and, last, but by no means least, a photo album, which he pulled out with great care.

Harry gently ran a finger over the red, leather cover. James, who was normally very talkative, sat quietly besides him, aware of his fathers sombre mood.

"That's my dad." Harry said, breaking the silence. James peered over his shoulder.

In the photograph a young man with fly away, messy black hair, glasses and sparkling blue eyes was laughing, his arm slung carelessly around the shoulders of a beautiful lady with long red hair and glittering green eyes.

"And that's my mum. James and Lily Potter."

James looked at his dad, he was smiling softly, but his voice was sad and he though he saw tears glistening in the eyes, so like his mothers, he saw, but that did not fall.

"They look nice." His voice sounded strangely loud in the quiet room.

"They were. They were the nicest, bravest people you could ever meet." Harry's words were said strongly, passionately, but there was a challenge in his tone, as if he was daring someone, anyone, to disagree.

"What happened to them?"

"They died." Harry whispered, a single tear rolling down his cheek. "When I was just a baby, the age as your sister is now. There was a very naughty man who didn't like them."

James bowed his head and traced the pattern on the bedspread with one finger, just as he had the numbers.

"I'm sorry Daddy." He whispered, sounding each of his four years.

Harry tenderly wrapped his arm around his sons shoulders and pulled him in close. James burrowed his head into the crook of Harry's neck, his black hair, so similar to that of his namesakes, tickling Harry's chin. In the safety of his Father's arms James couldn't help but wonder what he would do without his mummy and his daddy who tucked him in at night and made the bad things go away and though how unfair it was that his own dad had never known his parents. Helplessly, James began to cry.

"James and Lily Potter." Harry read out to James, lightly tracing the words, "Gave their all for what they believed in."

They were sat cross legged before the white marble stone that marked the final resting place of his parents. On the ground before the gravestone was a vase of rare flowers only to be found on Anglesea, charmed to last forever. Snape had put them there, Harry remembered.

"What were they like?" James asked softly.

"They were the nicest people to have ever lived." Harry flipped open the photo album he held before him to a picture of two men James had never seen before stood with James and Lily.

"That's Sirius and Remus, they were my mum and dad's friends. I knew them when I was a teenager and they used to tell me the greatest of stories about them." He said wistfully. "There was this one time, in their sixth year, my dad purposely used the wrong ingredients in potions so that when Sirius tested it, instead of turning his hair purple, he turned into a frog."

Harry smiled as James snickered loudly.

"They were pranksters, those Marauders."

Harry told a few more tales, but, of course, they stopped abruptly on the thirty-first of October nineteen-eighty-one.

"Why did they have to die?" James asked, shuffling closer to his dad.

"Everyone dies eventually. But death is but the next great adventure." He said, thinking of someone else he'd lost that had said those very words. "They died doing what they knew was right and they wouldn't have had it any other way."

Thanks for reading.

If you liked it, or even if you didn't, then leave a review, please? I have thick skin, so I can take insults, but good reviews are like sunlight to a flower...