A few seconds of silence lapsed into a minute as Ginny tried to absorb several things at once.
That's James. That's Harry's father. It must be. They look just alike. But how…James is dead. Very dead. Like a door nail. Dead a long time…
"Uh, Mr. Potter?" she began gently. "I don't mean to be rude, but aren't you ah, not, well…aren't you dead?"
James smiled obligingly. "As a matter of fact, yes. But as a matter of lately, no."
Confusion was evident on Ginny's face; Harry was beginning to look peeved.
"I'm sorry I can't be more clear, but I was sent here for a couple days to help you, Harry," James said, a more gentle inflexion in his tone.
"Help me?" Harry exploded as Ginny cringed. "Help me? Never figured I needed any help in the last 20-odd years? Figured now would be a convenient time to drop in for a chat?"
"Harry—" Ginny began, with no plan to the rest of the sentence.
"I know it's frustrating, but I can't say a whole lot. I'm here now because I can help you. Help you without changing the future…just, ease your mind," James explained.
"What does Harry need help with? Our lives are—have been—turmoil-free for a few years. I don't understand," Ginny protested.
"He just does. It might not be obvious to you, but I wouldn't have been sent here if he didn't need me," James said softly. "My son needs me."
At this, the room grew quiet again.
"But how do I know it's really you?" Harry asked, emotionless.
"Sirius thought you'd say that. Here," James said, leaning forward to pass Harry a small object he'd drawn from his pocket.
As Harry turned over his late Godfather's mirror, that so perfectly matched the shards of glass his had once been, Harry exhaled.
"I can't believe you're here. You're here for…"
"Just a couple days, yeah. I know life never afforded us the best circumstances Harry. You don't know how badly your mother and I wished we could have been here all along, raising you, protecting you, but life had different plans, I guess," James said steadily.
"But I'm here now, if you'll have me. And if it was up to me, I'd have come a long time ago, but I'm determined we can make the most of this…weird opportunity."
Thousands of half-thoughts sped through Harry's mind, until he remembered something Hermione had observed not long before his wedding.
You know, Harry, you've experienced some unpleasant things. I think the rest of your life, Fate owes you one.
"Alright," Harry said aloud, beginning to visibly relax. "Then I guess I have an introduction to make."
Here he swallowed, then cautiously tried out a new term. "Dad, this is my wife, Ginny Potter."
Ginny smiled politely as James, who grinned broadly at Harry's appellation, jumped up and shook Ginny's hand.
"I can barely express how pleased I am to meet you, Ginny. Really," he said.
"Er, likewise, Mr. Potter."
James let out a full-bodied hoot of laughter, and Harry was suddenly able to picture his father as a schoolboy again.
"No one called me that, ever, except dear Minerva," he said, eyes sparkling. "And I think she was just trying to encourage me to hold to a higher standard, bless her."
"Yeah, she has a way of doing that," Harry agreed.
"Trying to, you mean!" James laughed. "Remus was the only one of us who ever behaved respectably in Transfiguration, and even he was 50-50."
Smiling as she recalled her favorite professor, Ginny piped up.
"I think I'll go check on that kettle. Give you two some—" here she exchanged glances with her husband"—time."
No sooner had Ginny's bathrobe retreated around the corner did James scoot to the edge of his seat, fixing Harry with a serious look.
"So, son. I understand you're scared shitless about this baby."