Chapter Ten – Beginnings
We will either find a way, or make one. -Hannibal
Dead people didn't just get up and walk into one's life on any chosen day. And the loved ones of said dead person didn't, after having no memory of knowing them, up and call them by their parental name that quickly. It just didn't happen.
And it absolutely never happened at the most perfect time. Maybe if someone believed in fairytales, they might believe that this could happen. Maybe if they believed that every story had a happy ending, they might believe that this could happen. Maybe, if they believed with all their heart and soul that sometimes, wishes really do come true, they'd believe that this could happen. Maybe they'd believe that this did happen.
It was too perfect. In a matter of mere minutes, father and son had looked into one another's eyes, touched, and felt it. They knew it was real. They knew that they stood before each other, both alive, both breathing.
James could feel his heart in his throat as it sunk in. Harry had called him Dad. His Harry. His son, Harry, had called him Dad. The tears rushed down James's cheeks and his hand slowly fell from Harry's face.
Harry's eyes swelled with tears. His heart was racing; beating so fast that he was sure everyone in London could hear it. The hazel eyes he stared into felt so familiar. They felt reassuring and protective. They gave him a feeling that was unfamiliar, yet, felt so right and comfortable. His touch – it was something that Harry couldn't have imagined. Nothing had felt so right in so long.
"Harry," James whispered so softly that only Harry could hear him. Or maybe Harry couldn't hear him, but he knew what was said.
Harry reached out and grabbed his father's trembling hand with his own wavering one. He looked down to examine the older version of his own palm. They were gentle, gentle enough to have a caring hold, yet rough and used. They were rough in just the right places from riding brooms, rough from years of abuse.
Harry's gaze returned to James's eyes. There was so much emotion behind the glasses, so much to learn from. Their eyes may have been different colors, but they both held the same stare. The look was the same.
Their hair: Harry ran a hand quickly through his own while nervously looking over James. Harry recognized the same stray strands of hair that gave him problems on the head opposite him. Their ears were similar, their noses…Harry really felt as though he were looking into a mirror.
"Th-th-this…this can't…be," Harry stuttered.
James swallowed. He felt like Harry had been staring at him for an eternity. He nodded, a slight upper curve taking hold to his lips.
"It's true, Harry. It's true."
The words were barely audible. They weren't long or exquisite. There was no more to them than what they were, yet they meant so much.
The sun was still rising in the east; brightly and brilliantly, its rays shone through the leaves of the big oak they stood under. A few wispy white clouds fluttered along the brightening sky as a slight breeze blew through the trees. Birds were chirping, feeding their young and calling out to their mates. The bees began to buzz, hopping from one flower to another, beginning the days work.
In the distance, the city traffic was coming alive. The roaring of car engines and the honks of horns sounded through the crowding streets. People were rising, fixing breakfast, getting ready for work and wishing loved ones a good day.
Somewhere, kids were waking up to watch cartoons and enjoy their summer day. Families were gathering their belongings to leave or return from holiday. People were going to the zoo to see the animals. They were going to the park and visiting museums.
Some people were having the start to a normal day, others, the start of a great day. Even still, others would unfortunately have a bad day, a day they might hope to forget even occurred. Surely, there were people weeping, hurt, and dreading what was before them.
But in the simple backyard of Grimmauld Place, where for so long an evil stench lived, a feeling of unwelcomeness and unlovingness hung; a place where many memories of both good and bad rested, something truly amazing was occurring. A day beyond brilliance was beginning. A day that would mark a new future, a new life, a new beginning was starting. A day that would stand with so many emotions that it couldn't be properly told of had begun.
"Merlin," James chuckled. "I…I just…there's so many things." James stopped and took a deep breath. "There are just so many things that I want to say to you."
"How…?" Harry's tongue felt heavy. He cleared his throat. "How'd you…survive?"
James let out a low laugh and looked up to the sky. He blinked a few times, trying to dry his eyes as he shook his head. He looked back at Harry, who stood at just a bit shorter than him, just a bit, and cupped his hand around his chin. He rubbed his chin while thinking and pursed his lips together before he replied.
"I didn't," he finally answered. "My soul died that night. The moment my mind knew…thought, that you and…that you and…you and your mum had…died. I woke up and didn't know anything. I didn't know who I was…what I'd lost," James looked to the ground, the tears back again. He sniffed and looked into his son's green eyes. "Or what I hadn't lost. They found me, began to bring me back to life…" He pointed his elbow towards Remus and Dumbledore without tearing his gaze from Harry's. "But you just resurrected me, Harry. You just brought me back to life."
"I…I…don't know what to say," Harry replied, mesmerized by the man before him.
"Your eyes, Harry, they-"
"Are exactly like my mum's," Harry finished. Everyone told him that, of course his father would too.
James nodded, "Well, yeah, but…they haven't changed. They have, wiser, seen so much, but…they're as playful as they were…"
Harry blinked, unsure of what a child was supposed to say to his father after fifteen years of thinking he was dead.
"And your Mum, she'd be laughing at you, you know, with your hair…" James continued, transfixed with thoughts.
Harry felt the now familiar welling up in his eyes. "Why didn't she…?"
James closed his eyes. He took in the scent of the early morning, the presence of his son, and the emotions. He could feel her and if he dared, he could almost see her. She loved the mornings. The new day always brought with it a new chance. Ever since their final year at Hogwarts, Lily had an unexplainable love for sunrises. Her favorite days were ones that started with morning such as this.
James could see her standing near them with her red locks flowing in the breeze. Her green eyes were sparkling in the sunlight and her laughing smile spoke more than a thousand words. If she could have, she'd grab both James and Harry by the hands and lead them into a jog across the green grass. She'd twirl and laugh until she fell. She'd remind them what a perfect morning it was for flying. What a perfect morning it was for being happy, for being together, for being alive.
James could feel her. He could feel her happiness, wherever she was. She was with him, she always had been. They'd promised to never leave each other's side, and she'd kept that promise to him. She'd watched him struggle with finding himself and she'd watched over their son. She'd kept them both safe so that one day, today, they could be brought back together.
It was time, and the timing was right. The timing was perfect. It was too perfect to be real because only magic could make something this wonderful happen. It was a magic greater than the magic they used everyday. It was the magic of love.
James opened his eyes and stared straight into Harry's.
"Your Mum was the most amazing thing to walk this earth, you know. She was scared and she made mistakes and she had this temper," James smiled. "But she was full, so full of love. And hope. She always had hope and she always believed, Harry. She always believed that the right things would win; would come out on top. She gave her all when she did anything. Most parents, they say they'll protect their children 'till their dying day. Not your Mum, Harry. She's still protecting you. She loved you with everything that she was…that she is. She didn't…survive, Harry, because she couldn't. She'd done everything she could, everything that she was supposed to do…"
James broke off with a sob. He turned toward the tree and leaned against it, one arm holding him self up, the other covering his face.
In a muffled tone that Harry could just make out, James continued, "It's like…for the past fifteen years a part of me died everyday. I knew I was missing something so great and irreplaceable…I just didn't know what. And I died not knowing. And then to remember…to know…it's like accepting it all over again, because I never got the chance to before…"
"Harry, it wasn't supposed to happen like this," James suddenly turned towards his son. His face was wet from the tears but his look held determination. "This isn't what our lives are supposed to be like. He took it all away…he mangled what wasn't his…you should have had us your whole life, Harry…not just me, a failure, now…too late…"
Harry watched his father brake away and slump to the ground. In the distance, he could see Remus and Dumbledore standing quietly, watching with curiosity but remaining respectful. Behind them, the Weasley's and the rest of the household peered into the backyard, bewildered and shocked faces all too stunned and confused to speak.
"You – you aren't a failure," Harry choked out as he took a step towards James.
James looked up to him. "How can you say that? After…"
"It's not your fault," Harry rambled. He was looking straight at his father, someone who he'd dreamt about for as long as he remembered and he wasn't about to let that slip away. Not when far too often dreams become bitter disappointments. "You aren't a failure. It was him, it was Voldemort that caused all this, he's the one that ruined my life, our lives…but…he didn't ruin them…I'm still here…"
James blinked. "Merlin, Harry." James stood to face his son at eye level. "I'm just so…so sorry for everything. There's been times in the last few days that I wished I had really died…that it would be so much easier than going through this accepting…easier for everyone else than having to bring to the surface old wounds…but standing here looking at you, hearing your voice…it's the most amazing thing I could ask for."
Tears streamed down both men's cheeks. Harry sniffed, and forgetting that anyone else was around, he fiercely wiped his eyes.
"I grew up never really knowing what happened to you or to…Mum except for a lie. And I dreamt everyday about what it would be like to have you both. And then I found out that I was a wizard and I began finding out about you and who I was…and it's all been so overwhelming and finding out about the prophecy and learning that…that people hide things and don't tell you everything and lie and betray…"
"Harry," James took his son into his arms in one swift motion and held him tight. He held him close, he held him like he'd longed to for so many years, even though he hadn't been aware of the want. He held him for every wrong or misfortunate event he'd gone through. He held him for every scrape or bruise he might have had. He held him for every broken heart he'd felt in his life so far. He held him for every glorious moment that had occurred in his absence. He held him like a father would cuddle a child.
And Harry held a tight grip of his own. There were still so many unanswered questions running through his mind. There were still doubts of the future and there were still curious wonders to be explained. It was much to exhilarating of a moment to be thinking clearly enough to ask any of these and all Harry wanted was the one thing he had wanted the most in his life – a family and someone to love him.
And if Harry had ever been sure of anything in his life before, nothing compared to the content, secure, blazing assurance that this man with his arms around him was, indeed, the James Potter he'd had so many dreams about. This was his father and he was loved.
Back in the dreary kitchen of number 12, the Weasley's and other houseguests had been ushered back inside by Albus and Remus to give the Potter's space. Remus was on the verge of tears himself from happiness and relief. One could just not understand what it felt like to regain when you thought all was lost unless you've felt it.
The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes had returned with one worry having been lifted. The two still needed plenty of time together; time to catch up, to adjust, to learn each other, but they would. Worry still filled Albus's mind with many other items, but this was the biggest relief of all. The Potter's reunited.
The rest of the household, however, was a bit more in shock and dismay than anything else. They all walked back into the house not understanding what they had just witnessed. They all wanted to know, wanted to ask…
"Please, everyone, sit down," Dumbledore instructed.
He waited as everyone found a seat quietly. Ron and Hermione sat nearest the window; arching their necks to get a glimpse of anything…just to see…to make sure that Harry was alright.
"I can not offer you much at this time; it is Harry's choice on how much he will choose to share with you all. I do ask, for consideration, that this news does not venture any further than us until the many questions have been answered."
"It's…is it really him?" Molly asked, holding a hand over her fluttering heart.
Looking at Remus with a slight smile first, Dumbledore nodded. "It is really him."
"How…?" Ron asked the big question.
"We're still working out just exactly how," Dumbledore shared. "In time, all answers will be revealed. All I ask of you now is to be respectful of what both Harry and James are going through. I don't imagine it to be easy to come back from being 'dead' and assuming your life after fifteen years."
"But…Harry's the only one that has ever survived the curse," Hermione's mind was racing for an explanation of how James Potter was standing outside with Harry.
"Yes, we must correct that statement, I presume," Dumbledore nodded. He winked at Remus.
"The Potter's are the only to survive that curse," Remus replied.
"But…Lily…" Molly squinted to hold back her oncoming tears.
"Sadly," Dumbledore's smile faded.
"But Harry saw his dad come out of You-Know-Who's wand at the cemetery!" Ron refused to believe what was happening. It just…didn't make any sense.
"As I said, Ron, all answers will be revealed. In the meantime, I do think a lovely breakfast would be in order."
Molly nodded and began to clang pots and pans around again.
"Well, do sit down, then," Arthur nodded to Remus and Dumbledore. The two men took seats at the table among the unnatural silent clan. All the kids were sitting dumbstruck, unsure of how they should act or what they should say. The adults were just in plain shock, wanting answers that only James could supply and silently wishing that he wasn't the only one…
"It's just not natural," Molly said as she peered out the window. "A boy Harry's age needn't go through all that he has, and now this?"
"Molly, it's his father," Remus reminded her. "What'd you want to happen, for James to just go on letting Harry think he's dead and watch him from afar?"
"Well, if he hadn't been such an arrogant and conceited prat back then, none of this would be needing to happen. Oh, just look at them! Poor Harry-dear."
"Mu-um," Ginny sighed.
"Yes, Molly, why don't we give the two some privacy, hm?" Arthur began to usher his family out of the kitchen and away from the window. "I do say, though, I can't wait to ask James some questions, having spent the last few years as a muggle…"
Remus smiled as Fred and George both rolled their eyes.
"Harry's dad," Ron said, still in astonishment. "I can't believe it."
"None of us could," Remus said with a sigh.
The kids all grew quiet, not wanting to be disrespectful.
"Well, go on then," Molly suddenly looked at all the kids. "Upstairs, with you! Go! You've plenty to do, and stay away from the window!"
The kids filed up stairs and into the room that Ron and Harry shared whilst the adults remained quiet, all having separate thoughts on what this turn of events could mean, and would mean, for everyone.
The two clinging men finally separated, a bit awkwardly, unsure of the right words to say now. They both faced away, wiping their tears and regaining their composure.
James was the first to turn back. He stared at Harry who was looking off into the distance.
"I have so much that I want to ask you," James told him.
"I do too," Harry replied, turning towards James. "Like…what happened?"
James took a hard swallow. "That night?"
"I know there was a green light…" Harry started. "I know that Mum tried to save me…Voldemort got you first…" Harry hiccupped to subdue the tears.
James nodded. "Do you want to sit somewhere? It's not a simple story to tell…"
Harry looked around for where they could sit comfortably and talk. His heart skipped a beat as he thought for an instant what he was doing- looking for a place to sit and talk with his father. Unbelievable.
"Come on," James waved his hand and started to walk away from the house. "There's this spot, not too far, if it's still there. Sirius used to hide there to get away from his family before he left home."
"Sirius…" Harry muttered, having forgotten that his father and Sirius had been best friends. James would know so much about him, have so many memories. He'd have the same about Remus…and Peter.
"Do…you know, I mean…has anyone told you…" Harry wanted to know, needed to know if James knew that Peter had betrayed him. Because aside from wanting to revenge Voldemort, Harry felt a deep desire to hurt Pettigrew.
James stopped and looked at Harry, searching his eyes for the question. "If you're asking if I know what happened to Sirius, yes. I know what happened fifteen years ago and I know what happened a few months ago."
"You know, then, that Sirius figured it out…"
James laughed; the first real laugh that Harry got to witness from him, "Sirius knew Peter was our secret keeper. There wasn't a thing about me that Sirius couldn't figure out. The only thing he never knew was where we were that night. But he guessed…I knew he would know if anything happened…and he did. He did, Harry. He knew and he came and did what a true brother, a true friend, would do and went after Peter in my name…in our name. Consequence aside, it was a battle he knew that he'd die to fight. I…I was blessed to have had a friend like that, Harry. I miss him. I've always missed him, without knowing." He stopped and took a deep breath. "Losing someone close to you is always hard, no matter your age or how you lose them, but Harry – it wasn't your fault." James rested both his hands on Harry's shoulders. "Sirius never regretted a thing he did, it was a pact we lived by that he took seriously."
Harry nodded.
"Besides," James winked. "Sirius would curse you if he saw you looking this sad over him. Come on." He continued to lead the way through some trees.
Harry had no idea how James could know where they were going or even what direction they were headed in, but he seemed confident. Harry watched him as he followed; his gait, the way he walked, how he'd randomly run his hand through his hair subconsciously. It made Harry want to laugh; he had a father that he could make fun of.
"Here we are," James stopped at a big, old tree.
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Where are we exactly?"
James shrugged. "I have no idea, but do you like to climb trees?"
"Um, sure," Harry looked up the tall tree.
"This would be so much easier if I had a wand," James grumbled. "Oh well, guess we'll do it the muggle fashion, then. Ready?"
"So, we're climbing this tree?" Harry questioned, just to be sure.
James nodded as he started to reach for a branch and begin to climb. "Yep. There's a tree house way up there, charmed and all so you can't see it from down here. He didn't build it or anything, found it by chance one day running from his family after a fight. He showed it to me and that's when we charmed it."
"So you used to come over here?" Harry asked, curious of his father's childhood.
The two started to climb the tree, and as they went further up, Harry could see the battered tree house.
"I came over a few times," James explained. "Snuck over actually. His parents didn't exactly approve of us being friends. Course, they didn't approve of Sirius much by that point, what with him being sorted into Gryffindor and all that. But there were a few summers that I found a way over; didn't want him suffering the entire holiday alone."
"He moved in with you eventually, right?" Harry asked as they climbed into the tree house. It had obviously seen much better days. The boards creaked as they clamored over and sat themselves down. A lot of boards were missing in the walls and there was a hole in the roof.
"Yeah, he ran away from home right after summer started and my mum and dad refused to think him homeless. We came back a few times, though, after that. You know, getting more of his belongings and of course, to annoy Regulus, his brother."
"He was a…"
"Deatheater? Yeah," James sighed. "We knew it before he was open about it. Not that any Deatheaters really walked around screaming that they were, but some you just knew. He joined while he was still at Hogwarts. Sirius and he never really got along. Sirius was the disappointment, the one who didn't abide by all his family's traditions so Regulus did everything to keep his parents approval. I don't think the Black's were really so much into the dark arts, aside from Narcissa and Bellatrix. They were prejudice and disliked the fact that Sirius wasn't. I think Regulus joined Voldemort because he agreed with a lot of those ideals. His cousins were a part of it and his parents would be proud – especially since Sirius openly condemned Voldemort and his followers. He died, though, at the hands of Voldemort-"
"Because he wanted out," Harry finished.
"Yeah, which wasn't that much of a surprise either," James shrugged. "Regulus was weaker than Sirius and jealous. He wasn't the killing type, more of the type that needed to fit in, to be accepted." James sighed and stared at his shoes. "Sort of like Peter."
Harry's face reddened with anger, "He was Ron's rat for so long, Scabbers. I had the map and was walking in the halls at night-"
"The map?" James looked up at Harry. "The Marauder's map?"
Harry smiled. "Yeah. The Weasley twins, Fred and George gave it to me in third year."
"Hot damn, I had no idea that thing was still around. I wonder how it got snitched from Filch…"
"Fred and George," Harry smiled. "All the professors say they haven't seen troublemakers like them since…you…"
James laughed. "And you? Do you put it to good use?"
Harry swallowed. "It's helped quite a few times."
"We were pretty proud of that map," James reminisced. "We were quite proud of a lot of things we did. The thought never occurred to me then, but after I found out that Pete was the traitor – we knew there was one before we figured out who – I've often thought back and wondered if we didn't include him enough. If maybe we didn't treat him as well as we should have."
"You knew he was the traitor?" Harry looked aghast.
James took a deep breath. "Harry, most of the rumors you've heard about me are true. I'm not perfect. I'm nowhere close but I've always thought I was. I always thought I was the best at everything I did. I was cruel to Snape – but I swear to Merlin he deserved it – and I was conceited."
"But Pettigrew was one of your best mates…" Harry was confused.
"He was," James nodded. "I mean, he made a great lookout when we needed one. And when there was something we needed done but none of us wanted to do it, he'd do it. And he didn't have anything else, so he'd do anything to keep us as friends. He treated us like we were heroes or something. Man, I thought he looked up to me, he treated me like I was something fantastic and I don't think I ever truly appreciated him back like he wanted. He just wanted friends. He just wanted to be wanted. But he wasn't as quick as we were. He wasn't as bright or talented as we were. He wasn't charming and couldn't get out of something even if he really did have an excuse…but we kept him around. He made us feel good, made for entertaining company sometimes…"
"How'd you figure out…why'd you use him if you knew-?"
"Hold on, Harry," James stopped him. "This isn't an easy story to tell."
James leaned back against the rickety wall and took a deep breath with his eyes closed.
"The Deatheaters seemed be getting inside information somehow," James started. "They knew too much, and they knew too much about things that only the Order knew. We, the Order, we were separate from the Ministry. A lot of us just didn't trust the Ministry. You couldn't trust everyone, then, Harry. Your best friend could turn on you, you just didn't know. But in the Order, we knew, or so we thought.
"A lot of us had our suspicions, but no one dared speak them. Being accused of being a Deatheater when you weren't was horrible. Sirius was the first to think of one of us. He thought of Remus, which horrified me. Remus was too good-natured to turn dark. But Sirius pointed out how he seemed to distance himself from us at the time. And he knew a lot about the Dark Arts; it was one of his best subjects. Only…that hadn't mattered. Being a werewolf makes it hard to find a job, you know. And he was having problems then, refusing help from any of us.
"But I just couldn't believe it. Lily, though, your mum, she suggested Peter. Again, I didn't want to believe it. He was my friend as well and my friends would not betray me, or any of us, like that. But Lily was a rational thinker and she thought things out. So I started to watch him and it didn't take me long to realize that Lily was right.
"And once we were sure of it, and we were told of the prophecy…we knew what we had to do."
James cut himself off and looked out towards the tops of the trees. He couldn't look Harry in the eyes anymore. He couldn't bear the thought of telling Harry why his parents hadn't been around. He didn't want to tell Harry that they had set Voldemort up into picking Harry and then losing what he'd just gained that morning.
"W-what?" Harry asked nervously. "What did you do?"
James forced himself to look at his son. "We made Peter the secret keeper knowing he was the traitor. I knew that Peter would be so excited that he had the information that Voldemort wanted more than anything that there would be no way for him to keep the secret. I knew he'd tell him. Voldemort wouldn't even have to coerce it out of him; he'd willingly give it up. And I knew that Voldemort would come after us. Lily was a muggleborn…I was a Potter…we had survived him three times and his Deatheaters numerous times. We were part of his elite enemy and he'd have us in his pocket. We expected him."
Harry's eyes were narrow. He was confused…angry almost. His parents knew? They…set up their own deaths? Harry's future…
"Why?" Harry hissed.
This was the part that James was nervous about. He closed his eyes and tried desperately to envision Lily by his side. She'd know what to say, how to say it. She'd know the right words to comfort Harry as he learned the truth. She'd understand it was harder than so many things to accept that your parents were human; that they weren't the hero's that you willed them to be.
"Harry, I need you to listen to this and try to understand it. I need you to know that your mum and I…we had the best intentions in everything that we did. We thought we were better than," – deep breath – "we were. You need to understand that fighting Voldemort had consumed us, and ending the dreadful existence that we, that all of us were living, was something that mattered to us as much as you mattered to us. As much as we mattered to each other. Please, Harry, please listen to me. I need for you to understand…to understand what happened and why…"
Harry nodded without saying a word. He sat quietly, emotionlessly; as he listened to James tell the story. He heard every word spoken and digested it carefully. He was mesmerized with the witching capabilities that his parents did possess. He was impressed with their determination and drive. He admired their willingness to put themselves at risk in order to fight a cause. He felt the love that they held for one another and for him, even through the arrogance.
But he also became upset. For all the reasons he had wanted to give up before, now knowing that it was because of his parents that he was in the position that he was in tore at his heart. Everything he had desperately wanted to believe in all his life was in his lap and he wasn't sure if it was what he wanted anymore.
They loved him, this he knew, he had always known, but had they loved him more than they desired to beat Voldemort? He was only a baby at the time, how were they to know that he'd be strong enough, brave enough, that he'd want to defeat Voldemort?
"Harry?" James gulped. His heart was furiously beating and he was beginning to sweat. He was more nervous now than he had been in even seeing Harry again. It seemed as thought time stopped while he waited for a reaction from him.
"Why?" Harry glared at his father. "Why did you two have to be the heroes? Why did it have to be me? Didn't you stop and think that it might not work?"
"I…we…Harry, we thought we knew what we were doing. Merlin, we never intended on it backfiring…we never wanted to leave you…or to lose you…we…we just…"
"You put your family on the line and lost."
James closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath. The words that no one had said to him since they had found out, but the words that James knew were true. The ones he was the most afraid of. You put your family on the line and lost. And lost…James had lost…James and Lily Potter had lost…and James was quickly losing more.
"Harry, we never gave it a second thought. We didn't need to because we knew we were making the right decision at the time." James lifted his head and sat up straighter. His voice got stronger with every word he said and he looked into Harry's eyes again. "We knew that whatever happened when Voldemort found us that in the end it was going to be the right thing. We knew you had it in you. Sure, you were just over a year, but you had the look of a champion in your eyes even then, Harry. We didn't have a doubt. You were destined to be something great."
Harry shook his head, "No, I wasn't. I was forced into being something great." He looked away for a moment. "What if I don't want to anymore?"
His question was met with silence. James wasn't sure what exactly he meant by that.
Harry looked back at him. "What if I don't want to be Harry Potter, Boy Who Lived any longer? What if I don't want to be the one that has to kill Voldemort? What if I'm not strong enough to do it? I can't even master occulmacy!"
James stared him down, right in the eyes. "Yes you can, Harry. You can and you will. Why…why wouldn't you want to?"
Harry threw a stick out of the tree house in frustration. "Because I'm tired of fighting! Because I'm scared and I just don't want to do it anymore. Because all my life I just wanted to be normal. I just wanted a family with my parents and friends…I didn't want this. I didn't want to be the savior of the Wizarding world! I can't…I can't handle it."
James just stared at his son. He felt like this outburst was a long time coming and that Harry needed to get that out. He felt guilty, too. Immensely guilty.
"Do you know what you're fighting for?" James asked him quietly after a few moments had passed.
Harry shrugged. "I know the reasons."
"Do you understand them?"
Harry's face snapped towards James's. "Do you think I'm stupid? Yeah, I get it. And I hate him. I hate him for everything that he is, he's done, what he thinks. I hate him with a burning passion."
"Harry, he never heard the whole prophecy. He didn't know he was 'marking' you."
"But you knew."
James sighed. "I did." He looked deep into Harry's green eyes. "And you aren't as sorry that I did as you seem to think you are. I don't regret it, Harry, I can't. You are strong enough to do this and you want to do this. And you want to do it for the right reasons, not for the fame. And you have what it takes. You have more than anyone else."
"And what if I don't? How do you know?"
"Because you have me, Harry. You have me, now, right beside you. He's evil and he decided a long time ago to take out his issues on the rest of the world. He's a murderer; a cold hearted murderer without a conscious. He's hateful and prejudice and he's a brilliant wizard. He's taken from so many what he took from you, what he took from me, and for what reason? Because they didn't agree with him. Because they wouldn't follow him or they didn't meet his standards. And you know as well as I do that living in fear is no way to live. You know that he thinks he has the upper hand and that he's going to win. But you're smarter, Harry. You care and you have feelings and you understand love. You understand what he never did."
Harry barely blinked. He barely breathed as he sat listening to his father's lecture, his father's speech.
"Harry, it wasn't because I wanted to be the 'one' or to be the father of the 'one' that would defeat him. It wasn't because I wanted to prove something. I watched as the world I knew crumbled under him. I watched as people I knew, and people I didn't, lose loved ones because of him. I watched my own loved ones die because of him. I watched the world turn into a ball of fear under one wizard's power. And I became enraged. I didn't need to be the 'one' but I needed to be a part of it. I needed to make a statement, to say something, do something. I needed to fight him and prove to him that he wouldn't win in the end; that all the misery he caused was worth something, that he'd get what was coming to him. And when your mum and I heard the prophecy and figured out Peter and looked into your eyes…there wasn't a doubt in our mind that our child was going to feel the same way.
"Harry, only you have the power to defeat him. And you don't have to do it alone."
The two men took to staring at one another again, neither sure of what to say next. So many emotions were running ramped through their veins, so many thoughts, so many questions. They had so much to talk about, so many things to catch up on, and so much anger and aggression held up inside that they needed to take out on each other.
There was still doubt in the back of Harry's mind. Sure, he realized that his life could have been worse, but how much worse than what he'd suffered through? With or without all these people that cared about him, because they sure hadn't been around his first eleven years. Good things, such as this, just didn't happen to Harry.
His father was alive. His father was standing before him, alive and healthy. How was he supposed to react? What was he supposed to do? Was he supposed to just run into his arms as though he'd always done that? Was he supposed to just go pack his bags and move in with him and have that normal life he'd longed for since he could remember?
This was the man that Harry had been defending since he knew how. This was the man that his aunt and uncle had despised. This was the man that Petunia no doubt hated and blamed for the loss of her own family. This was the man that had practically tortured his potions professor in school, the man who thought that he had owned the world – but didn't.
This was also Sirius's best friend. And Remus's. This was also the man that his mother had come to love, after years of dislike. This was a man who had defied Voldemort three times, and, well, defied him a fourth time as well, just no one knew. This was a man who gave his life to fighting against evil. This was a man, who was sitting directly in front of Harry, only a small space between them; that was crying because he was alive, and Harry was, too.
This was Harry's father. No one was perfect, least of all James Potter, but, Harry thought, he was as perfect as Harry could ask for. He didn't know the story yet, he didn't know what had happened, why things had to be the way they ended up, but here they were, right now.
Present time accounted for – the two had each other. They shared something; they shared a lot. They shared a deep hatred for an evil man. They shared a passion for doing the right thing. They both wanted it to be over and, inside, they both knew that they would do anything for that fight. They both had tempers, they both were lost and confused but continued to walk with their heads held up. They both missed that beautiful red head, but they both loved her with all their hearts.
"We can win, Harry," James told him.
Harry slowly nodded. He understood, suddenly, the determined fight that his parents had. The determination that he had always had - since his first year when he insisted on figuring out what was on the third floor. He had often wondered why he repeatedly found himself in harms way, why he was always getting in trouble and getting himself into sticky situations. When he found out about the prophecy, he thought that it was just a cruel fate that had been handed to him.
But now he knew. Now he knew that he was just a Potter. He was born with strength of mind, with a will, to be something and be someone. He would do right in the world; fix what he could, fight for what he knew was right. He would take advantage of every breath he took.
And he wasn't going to do it alone. He hadn't ever really been alone; he knew someone was with him everywhere he went. But it felt real nice to feel someone close to him.
"We will win," Harry corrected his father.
James looked taken back for a second, not expecting Harry to be convinced so quickly. But he smiled. He grinned and he shook his head before grabbing Harry and giving him a hug.
James laughed as he let go of his son.
"It's going to be a beautiful day, Harry," James told him.
Harry nodded, a smile creeping up on his face as well. "Yeah, I think it is, Dad."
"Have you…have you been to Diagon Alley yet to get your school things?" James asked.
Harry shook his head. "Not yet…"
"Are you hungry? I'm starving. And you know what sounds delicious…"
"Um…Dad…does anyone else know that you…that you're alive?"
"Oh, yeah, that…" James scrunched his forehead. "Um, well…there is this great muggle place we could go to and get breakfast. I haven't been by my flat since I remembered…"
James stopped and thought about Tiffany. In all of his remembering and the uproar of finding Harry, he hadn't thought about her since the day she left Hogwarts. He wondered what she was doing, what she was thinking…if she missed him. Wow, what would she think now, of all this, when she found out about Harry?
"There's someone I want you to meet, too," James told Harry. "And we still have so much catching up to do, plans to make…and I need a wand."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "A wand?"
"Yeah…mine sort of got ruined that night…" James said quietly.
"Right, but the only way to get a wand," Harry started, wondering how they would pull this off.
"Ollivander's," James nodded. "Which him I'm not worried about. He is still alive, isn't he? It's just getting there unseen that's the tricky part…"
Harry smiled. "The Invisibility Cloak!"
James jerked his head towards Harry with a shocking smile. "You have it? I mean, you have one?"
"I have yours. Dumbledore…gave it to me for Christmas my first year at Hogwarts," Harry explained.
James grinned. "That old coot. That's perfect, Harry. I could wear it and we can go to Diagon Alley."
"Are we still going to go to breakfast?" Harry asked meekly.
Laughing, James nodded. "Skipping food is something that I totally forbid you to do as your father, do you understand me?"
Harry laughed. "Right."
The two, fixated on their plans, climbed down the tree and made their way to the backyard again. Once there, they both nervously stopped and stared at the house.
"Now what?" Harry asked his father.
"Well, I don't need anyone's permission to go somewhere with my son, do I?" James asked.
"I don't need permission to go anywhere with my dad, do I?" Harry grinned.
"We should still tell them we're leaving, at least, don't you think? I'd hate to make Moony worry any more than he has too. He's already got too much gray hair," James suggested.
"Okay…" Harry thought of what everyone's reaction was going to be when they walked inside, announced they were leaving, and…left.
"Right, well…let's just do it then, you think?" James shrugged and started for the back door.
"What will we say?" Harry asked, catching up with him.
James gave Harry a wink as he opened the door. "That we're going out for some father/son time?"
Harry beamed a smile as they walked through the door and into the kitchen.
The kitchen was silent except for the arbitrary clinking of forks against plates and the chewing of food. No one spoke a word as they ate their breakfast, their minds all preoccupied with what could possibly be going on outside, with what could happen next…what it all meant.
All heads turned towards the doorway as the door creaked opened. A few blank stares and quite a few stunned expressions met the Potter duo upon entering.
"Morning, all," James nodded his head. Harry walked in and stood next to his father.
Dumbledore and Remus both formed a smile, both knowing that things were…okay. No, they were better than okay. Things that happened that were too good to be true were more than just okay; more than fine…they were wonderful.
The others, however, all just stared. It was unbelievable to sit there and look at Harry and James standing next to one another. They looked so much alike, yet…they weren't. Father and son…the Potter men.
Mouths dropped, forks fell, gasps were taken and hearts fluttered. Molly Weasley put one hand over her heart and another over her gaping mouth.
"So, um, since we had no plans, Dad and I are…we made some plans and we're heading out," Harry said, nervously. Dad and I he repeated in his head. A smile crept up his face.
James nodded in agreement, "Yes, we just thought we'd tell you so you didn't worry. Albus, I'll be back at the castle later this evening, I suppose. Harry…"
Harry nodded. "I'll be back later."
"Right, so…see ya," James and Harry both waved and turned back to the door.
"You can't just roam about freely," Remus stopped them with a worried tone. "James, if you're seen by the wrong people or by anybody at this point-"
"Remus," James warned. "We're going."
"I'm afraid, James, that Remus does hold a point," Albus interjected. "To be quite honest, not only is it a genuinely wonderful thought that you are back with us, you are also an asset to the Order. If Voldemort found out that you are still alive, he'd be after you in an instant."
James laughed and looked at Harry who smiled back.
"Let him come after me, Albus. Because you're right, I am back. And I'm not going anywhere."
...huggles n cookies...
...missers...