Sitting On The Baby By HPOD sufferer
Date: Thursday, 2nd June, 10:34PM
Rating: K+ (Scary and Supernatural themes may scare young children, includes character death), sexual implications (very minor)
Summary: Sirius bounded into the compartment, making to sink into the seat next to Lily. The seat in which a sleeping baby...well, slept.Eyes popping, James grabbed his friend's wrists, stopping him from sitting. Sirius Black was frozen in a strange, half-sitting, half-standing position. Lily grabbed the baby quickly, and James released his friend."You know," said Lily " Baby sitting doesn't usually consist of actually sitting on the baby."
A baby has appeared. Where from? Why? Who does the baby belong to? Harry travels to Marauder Era. AS A BABY! Something went seriously wrong on that Halloween night.
Chapter 9: Dates, Mates and Papaya Fates
You may think of misery, you may think of me,
But what ever you ponder, just for a moment let it be.
Say what needs to be said- all that you know,
For phrases can bind, unwind and let go.
And hurt me if you will; however, at the end of the day,
Give us something to laugh about, send a sunshine my way.
Lily shuddered and shook, and James, not knowing what else to do, held the girl close. Carefully he ushered her to one of the chairs in front of Dumbledore's desk, and shuffled another chair right up next to it so Lily wouldn't have to let go. James took a seat.
"I believe we saw all of it," James informed the Headmaster softly. The old man looked pained.
"So what would you like to do?" Dumbledore asked after a pause.
James looked up from Lily's vibrant hair. "Do?" he echoed. "Harry's an orphan, because of-of that-that monster. What else could we do but protect him, and fight v-Voldemort?"
McGonagall twitched.
Dumbledore however, was gazing at James, a small wrinkle deepening on his forehead. "I thought you said you saw all of it."
"Well yeah, apart from the bits we were too scared to go in the house," James said, puzzled.
"Do you mean to tell me you don't know the identity of little Harry?" Dumbledore said sharply.
James shifted. "Of course not, most people don't shout out their own name when getting killed."
Dumbledore heaved a sigh of what sound suspiciously like relief. "No, they often don't."
And it was on that awkward note that the two teens were shooed from the Headmaster's office on the grounds of being well rested for the next day, the door closing on three figures whispering urgently.
"Headmaster, why won't you even tell us? " McGonagall cried in frustration.
"When the time comes, it will come. But for now I think we could all do with some sleep," Dumbledore waved off the Professor's complaints like a bothersome insect.
McGonagall stood up abruptly and swiftly left the room. Hagrid flinched, and then slowly made his own way after her. Dumbledore turned to little Harry, feeling somewhat embittered.
Lily and James walked slowly towards the common room, feeling tired yet nervous.
"Uh..." Lily began. "Sorry for crying on you."
James blushed deeply. "It's ok. I cried on you as well."
There was an uncomfortable pause. "You know, when you said Harry wasn't an orphan, I didn't believe you." Lily confessed.
James stayed quiet.
Lily felt the need to explain herself for some reason, to justify. "I mean, you're always pranking or pulling jokes. But...this year, even though it's been less than a week, it feels way longer, and you've-you've changed." Lily stopped, and James halted. She turned to face him. "What changed?"
James skidded his shoe on a flagstone. "I dunno. I guess...I guess I finally realised I had to grow up. Over the summer. Life doesn't go on forever, you know? I always knew that, and thought it was my, um, job to make the most of it. But I did it-well, not wrong per say- but not in the way that really counts. I've had fun, yes...but have I done anything really worthwhile?"
Lily tugged at a strand of her fiery hair. "I'm not sure either. I think- I think it's all the little things, that make up to the big things. Like waking up early and feeling like you're the only one alive-or sitting with your friends-or-or...falling love or something like that. God James, I'm only seventeen! I don't know!"
James looked up from the floor, straight into her eyes. "I think you do. We all do, somewhere deep inside of us. You're just too scared to realise."
He left, and Lily stood, mouth open and alone in the corridor, bathed in moonlight. She glanced out a high window, and a star twinkled in her direction.
The next morning Lily descended into the common room, only to be accosted by a haggard looking Potter...the same Potter who had made her toss and turn all night, mulling over his words.
"Lily. I just wanted to say...sorry. For what I said last night. I didn't mean for it to sound rude." He seemed genuinely concerned.
"Oh," was all Lily could say in reply.
"I just...I mean if you-wanted, to talk about it...what we saw." Potter ran a hand down his cheek, stretching the skin and making it sag. "If you ever need to...you can count on me, ok?" he gave her an almost pleading look. "I can safely say I'll understand."
"Oh, yes. That'd be nice." Lily answered softly. "c-Could we- if you're not busy that is- I don't know, go to the Three Broomsticks and talk it over a drink? On Hogsmeade weekends?"
James nodded. "Can do."
As he sat down in Transfiguration, he realised that Lily-in an odd sort of way- had asked him out.
"It's a date."
Sirius twirled his finger around his ear, and Remus nodded in agreement.
Dumbledore had never felt so tired. He was a man who usually got his priorities right, added to the fact he needed only about three hours sleep a night, it was safe for him to say he never really felt tired. It was the reason people thought he was so full of life.
But right now, he was very tired. He had hardly slept a wink last night.
The reason for his fatigue was the warm, carbon-based life-form on his lap, who was jigging gently up and down. The little boy made a sound that sounded suspiciously like a giggle. Dumbledore frowned-how dare Harry giggle when he, one of the best wizards in the world, was tired! Harry looked up. Was the boy smirking at him, Albus Dumbledore? It definitely looked like it. A devilish glow grew in those green orbs. Dumbledore got so enhanced by it that he didn't notice a small hand snaking its way towards him. In a very Slytherin-like manner.
Many people don't really wonder about whether Dumbledore is ticklish or not. Who would dare to tickle him anyway? Well, the fact of the matter was Dumbledore was extremely ticklish, and it was one of the perks of being greatly respected was that nobody ever dared to attempt such a thing against him. But, of course, Harry didn't know that. All he knew was he had an unsuspecting victim, and his fingers were itching.
His chubby arm sunk through the white bead to reach the soft flesh hidden behind it. His little fingers fluttered, darted, digged.
It was as if he'd done it before.
Dumbledore let out a gasp, doubling over. Harry did not cease his actions, forcing the Headmaster to lean awkwardly over sideways in an attempt to get away. He leant and he leant until...with a thump he rolled onto the floor. Harry tumbled with him, and like a demented rubber ball, the little boy bounced. The bouncing baby bobbed up and down for a good few minutes, during which Dumbledore lay on the ground gasping in a very undignified manner. With a hiccup he sat up, his hat wobbling precariously. Slowly, in a way that reminds one of either a splattered egg or bird droppings, the hat slid forward and down his face to hang off his long crooked nose. He pinched the tip and daintily placed it back on his head, hiding the tiniest of bald patches. It was the size of a penny.
Nobody's perfect.
Harry, the amazing bouncing fer-ahem-baby halted his bobbing and lowered gently to the rug. He propped himself on his hands and knees and crawled over to where the old man sat in a dazed fashion. He scrambled into the lap of the said man and tugged-ever so lightly as not to frighten him-on the long, thick, shining beard.
Dumbledore fixed his eyes on Harry.
"Naughty." Was all he managed to say.
"Nwaughwy." Harry repeated.
"No, you were naughty," Dumbledore corrected.
"You were nwaughwy," Harry mimicked.
This argument continued for about half an hour. Dumbledore, still arguing, stood up and dusted his crumbled robes. He scooped the villain-to-be (in his mind there was no doubt) and proceeded, somewhat reluctantly, down to a very late breakfast in the kitchens.
He passed a few late students on his way, which all scrambled towards their classrooms like scared mice in the face of a foreboding cat, fearful of the Headmaster's wrath. Not that he would do anything, but it did amuse him to see a third year grab the arm of a suit of armour and walk off with it instead of his bag, and the small first year who curtsied and bowed whilst asking for directions to the Charms classroom. He smiled as the girl skipped off in the opposite direction than what he'd told her, her pigtails flying.
He finally reached the portrait of the fruit and allowed Harry, tickler extraordinaire, to do the honours. He entered...
...and was nearly knocked to the floor by the crowd of house elves that rushed over.
"Master Dumbly, master Dumbly!"
"Is you wanting something to be eating, sir?"
"I has saved you some bacon, your majesty, I has!"
Dumbledore smiled amusedly (think Mona Lisa smile) and shook his head. He was met by gasps of shock. "No need to go overboard, friends (two elves actually fainted) I only want some fruit, light breakfast today."
The little creatures hurried off in a frenzy to be the one to serve him. Bananas and oranges were pushed into his hands, one of which Harry took with a goofy grin. Berries and peaches, dried apples and papaya were served on one of the long tables. Dumbledore thought it best if he didn't ask. He sat and picked up a strawberry. The elves waited with bated breath, eager.
He plopped it in his mouth. "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...mmmmmmmmm..."
"Sir is liking the strawberries?"
Dumbledore, by way of an answer, piled his plate with berries. Eat while the good things last.
Harry, seeing his minder's reaction, decided there was no way he was going to miss out. He reached out and grabbed a handful-and slammed it into his face. Only half went in his mouth-the rest smeared and dribbled onto his chin, cheeks and button nose. His skin instantly started to stain a reddish-purple-blue. Dumbledore noticed and allowed himself a quiet chuckle.
"I take it you like it, Harry?"
Harry grabbed another handful.
It did not take long for the berries to disappear, and Dumbledore pulled the papaya onto his plate with interest. Harry darted forward, clasped some of the orange substance in his sticky fingers and mashed it into Dumbledore's beard.
Dumbledore jumped, dabbing at it. With a shrug he put Harry on the bench beside him...where Harry would not be able to reach the food. He quickly finished up, thanked the elves ( some more fell swooning to the floor) and exited, Harry on his hip.
Harry had fallen asleep, thank Merlin. As he walked, Dumbledore attempted first to clean Harry's berry-coloured face to no avail. With a sigh, he turned his attention to his beard with all the cleaning spells he knew...but none would work.
And so it was a very frustrated Dumbledore with an orange patch on his beard and a blue and purple faced baby on his hip that met an unsuspecting pair jigging class in the corridor. They took one look at the pair, untangled their fingers and other body parts, and then made their excuses to go and collect their books from their dorms-incidentally the books which happened to be in their hands.
Ah...it is a burden to be great.
He also met the Divination teacher, an old crone ready-or past ready, is the more correct term- for retirement. They took one look at him and shrieked, "Oh, I saw this, purple and orange in my orb! Beware dear Headmaster, evil is afoot!"
He merely raised his eyebrows at her and continued on his merry way. He would never understand divination, especially the 'specialists' of the subject.
Much less that Professor who he had just passed.
He reached his office, preparing for a mid-morning siesta. He walked across the room to where the entrance to his quarters was concealed. He passed his desk, and the portrait of a past Headmaster, and stopped. The door to a glass-fronted cabinet swayed slightly in the breeze of air that his passing caused.
His eyes locked on a small dust-free patch beside the basin residing within the cabinet.
Well, at least he knew why the wards had gone off last night…and what Lily and James were doing in his office. He just wondered why he hadn't seen it before. Old age must be getting to him.
Someone had stolen a memory bottle. Which could only mean one thing.
He put Harry down.
A/n: Being funny is hard work people...but I have a funny things set up for the future (giggles at one's own briilaince). This took me TWO days to succussfully update, it kept coming up with errors, so I hope you're happy. And yes, the tickling and house elves were a bit over-done and ina very shoddy way. Deal with it, I say.
Oh yeah, what James said to Lily, that was very profound for me. Hope you paid attention to it. And not only because it signifies the beginning of the Lily and James romance (um, I have to put it in...how else would Hawwy get born?) but because it's kinda true. In a way. Enough of my ramblings.
PLEASE REVIEW, PLEASE GIVE IDEAS, POINT OUT MISTAKES, ASK QUESTIONS, ECT. BORE ME IF YOU HAVE TO, JUST FILL UP MY INBOX WITH MESSAGES. IT'S THE ONLY EXCUSE I GET FOR HOGGING THE COMPUTER...WHICH IN TURN MEANSI GET TO WRITE MORE. REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!
