Yes, I know it's been a while. Blame it on life, school and procrastination.
So, today was Father's Day. Yeah. And I figured I'd do something special. Yeah.
And I finally got my Pottermore email as well. I got into Ravenclaw, which is slightly disappointing, 'cuz I'm Hufflepuff all the way. Not that I'm really complaining… *grumbles*
…
It was a lovely sunny Sunday the day James Potter descended the stairs, his nose and stomach immediately gravitating towards the kitchen where a truly delicious smell was wafting through the door towards him.
"Mmmm…" he groaned, his mouth watering as he entered the room and Jamie grinned at him from the frying pan.
"Good morning dad!" She said cheerfully, humming to herself.
"Is that pancakes?" He asked, taking a seat at the table.
"Yup," she replied cheerfully, flipping one of the oddly shaped brown things in the pan (which he supposed were meant to be pancakes) over onto its other side.
"Are you sure?" He asked playfully, eyeing them doubtfully and grinning when she chuckled.
"Yes, dad."
"Okay, just making sure," he said. She chuckled again, and walked over to him, depositing a large plateful of pancakes, some syrup and his morning coffee in front of him, before giving him a peck on the cheek and walking back to the stove. He could only gape after her, wondering if Death Eaters had come in the night and replaced his daughter with Polyjuice Potion.
"What's the occasion?" He asked, extremely confused as he surveyed the feast fit for Hogwarts on the table before him and touched his cheek where she had kissed him.
"What do you mean?" She said a little too innocently, flipping the last pancake in the pan onto another plate, "You're saying I can't make my favourite man in the whole world breakfast for no reason?"
When she said this, James couldn't help but notice how wide her smile was or how bright her eyes seemed to be, and he was instantly suspicious. "Okay, what have you done to it?" He said, pushing back his chair and pointing at the meal.
"Nothing," was the reply, along with two raised eyebrows, and James snorted.
"Right. I seem to recall that the last time you cooked me breakfast, I ended up completely red for a week."
Now it was her turn to snort. "That was your own fault," she said, sitting down on the chair opposite him with a plate full to bursting with slightly blackened pancakes. He noticed, on closer inspection, that her face, glasses and hair seemed to be covered in a fine layer of flour, as was her shirt.
"You know, I always thought the flour was supposed to go into the pancakes, not on the chef," he smirked, and watched as she resisted the apparently overwhelming urge to roll her eyes.
"Oh for Merlin's sake, I haven't done anything to them," she said, taking the yet unused container of syrup in front of him and drowning her pancakes in it. "Do you want to know why I'm doing this?" She asked with more than a hint of a smile on her face.
"Do tell," he said, crossing him arms and leaning back comfortably in his seat.
"Because it's Father's Day today," she said simply.
"What day?"
"Father's Day," she said, with a smug air to her, obviously enjoying knowing something that he didn't. "It' something the Muggles do. They have a special day to honour men who are fathers, and the children have to do special things like give their dads presents and make a special breakfast and stuff like that," she shrugged, shovelling a mouthful of extremely syruping pancake into her mouth.
"Seriously?" James asked incredulously, sitting up straighter in his chair. She nodded, unable to reply through her stuffed mouth. "Wait, I think I've heard of this before. Yeah… Muggles are completely mental." He shook his head, grinning, "But I like this. Okay," he said, pulling his chair closer to the table and picking up his knife and fork. "So what you're saying is, the Muggles invented this thing where kids have to be nice to their dads for a day?"
This time, Jamie didn't even try to resist when she rolled her eyes. "Yes."
He grinned wider, "Brilliant. Mental, but brilliant. So…" he said in an offhand voice, "Any particular reason why you suddenly decided to follow Muggle traditions?"
Jamie made a show of looking exasperated, but James could tell it was just an act.
"Because, I just wanted to."
"I see…" James said, pulling a funny expression to show that he actually didn't, making her giggle. "So, did you get me a present?" He asked, a little too eagerly.
The teenage girl grinned and fished a small wrapped package out of the pocket of her flour-covered jeans. She stood up and leaned over the table and both of their plated, pressing the package into his hands.
"Happy Father's Day, dad," she whispered, giving him another kiss on the cheek, not the small peck he got before, but a big, long, wet one. And in that moment James knew that he had the most amazing daughter in the world.