The Return of the Father: A Father and His Son



Man, could my chapter titles be getting any sappier? I'll have to work on that for next chapter. I'm actually in the last stage of painting my room getting all the crap back into it (I'm paying to do this myself, and I ran out of money last weekend, so it continues to this weekend...I'm ready to shoot myself). So technically I'm being a bad girl and alternating between writing, cleaning and painting. Shh, don't tell on me, okay?

This chapter takes place the day after the last one, but you'll figure that out within a minute. All flashbacks (there's really only one) are going to be italic.

Thank you so much to all of the reviewers!

-------------------------------------Gryffindor Tower

Harry squinted his eyes to block out the bright yellow that was playing against his eyelids. It was barely morning, and only the earliest of the sun's rays were shining. Chances were that no one was even awake yet.

Blearily opening his eyes, cursing the sunlight all the same, Harry steeled himself for the orange of Ron's room. "What the..." he mumbled, there was no orange, only dark curtains. He looked around frantically, as this did not even match Privet Drive. It only took him a few seconds to realize he was in Hogwarts.

His heartbeat settled down considerably. He could almost slap himself for not realizing where he was sooner, as Hogwarts was practically his home. Harry sat up in bed, reaching for his glasses.

As the room came into focus, so did the memories. It flooded back to him in one bang, crashing into him so hard that the breath was knocked out of him.

His reason for going to Hogwarts, how he'd gotten there - but more importantly, what had taken place after he'd gotten there flew into his mind. The talk with Sirius was almost painfully fresh. The words and the emotions were all so new and so real that Harry didn't know what to do with it all.

His father was alive.

Closing his eyes, Harry felt all his strength slip away from him as he fell back against the pillows. How could this be real? How could he go from being an orphan to having a father – a real parent – all in one moment in time? The world that Harry lived in no longer made sense. Facts that he'd lived his life based on were no longer true and he didn't know how to assimilate the new ones into his mind.

His whole life was changed with only a few words from his beloved godfather's mouth.

But what were those changes? Would he live with James or go back to Privet Drive? What would happen come time for Hogwarts? The questions swirled around him leaving him almost breathless and dizzy.

What if James needed time to get back into the swing of his life? That wouldn't mean keeping around a teenager, who by all rights he did not know. His life was an unknown factor for his own father. What would he say to some of the details? Would Harry even tell him?

The one thought stopped the rest. Could he accept this? Could he accept that he now had a father, one who perhaps wanted to know him? The concept was foreign. His mind had an easier time accepting magic than it did this.

He had to know James's – his father's – intentions towards the situations. He could not go in there wanting a relationship and forcing his father into it when James did not want one. And he could not write the man off before he even met him.

Mind made up, Harry threw back the covers, adrenaline fueling his tired body. He hardly realized how tired he actually was, both physically and emotionally. He dressed quickly, barely taking the time to wonder how he'd gone from Remus's room fully dressed to the Gryffindor tower in his pajamas. He sent a glance Ron's way, or at least to where the hangings had been pulled shut. It was still early, Ron wouldn't be up for a while. No one was there to stop him.

He blindly charged down the stairs and through the empty common room. Slowing down didn't matter, he had someplace to be. For the first time in his life, Harry was going to meet his father.

---------------------------------The Hospital Wing

James stared at the ceiling, though not really seeing it. He was currently trying to envision what his son looked like. Even though Sirius had told him that Harry looked almost exactly like James, it was still hard.

Remus hadn't stayed long, just long enough to tell him again that he was glad that James was back. Though this time he'd paused at the door, saying only "It'll all turn out in the end, James, just remember that."

Somehow, he didn't think that Remus was just talking about Harry.

There were other aspects – other secrets – floating around his friends that they would not tell him. What had happened to Sirius, Voldemort, or Peter? And most importantly, almost all of his son's life.

He supposed that they wanted to let Harry get into the details of his own life, but that didn't make him any less suspicious. Sirius had been too tight-lipped. And as much as James enjoyed all of the information he had gathered of his son, there was so much more that Sirius had left out.

It wasn't just what they had left out, but the way that they had said the information that they did give out. The way that Sirius had told him that Harry was brave. Somehow, it didn't seem that Harry was merely brave on the quidditch fields or something. Sirius had said it as though Harry had shown bravery far beyond what anyone else was capable of, adult or no. All good and well, but when had his son shown such amazing bravery?

Things like that didn't add up in his mind. There was so much more that he was missing. Well, actually, that was obvious considering he'd been gone for over a decade.

What James didn't go over in his mind was the Halloween night which was so recent to him, but so far away to others. He didn't want to think of it quite yet. What he wanted to do was see his son. But it was only six in the morning. And no matter how brave or amazing a flyer his son was, there was a very small chance that he was an abnormal teenager who liked to get up early. The only chance he had of a meeting anytime before breakfast was if Harry snapped awake sometime soon.

Though, he was dressed and ready either way.

Sirius had dropped in again after Remus had left. The moment that James saw the familiar stride, he'd tense up and felt his heart start to beat wildly. He craned his neck to see if a boy was trailing behind Sirius. But Sirius had quickly squashed such hopes.

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"Where is he?" James asked anxiously, "Did he not want to come in?"

Smiling at the eager expression on James's face – one that was tinged in fear over his last question – Sirius decided to take pity on the father. "Finding out you're not an orphan is an emotional talk, James. Especially when you fight your godfather on it for the first ten minutes." He added slightly bitterly. Cheering up suddenly, he continued. "He's passed out up in the Gryffindor dorms."

"Passed out?" he asked hesitantly. He knew what Sirius was talking about, but that didn't do anything to stop his fears from running rampant in his mind.

"Asleep." Sirius clarified as he sat down next to the bed. "He was pretty wiped."

Nodding, James calmed that fear, only to have a new one replaced it. Would he always worry this much about his son? Somehow, James had a resounding 'yes' running in his mind. "Should he be alone? I mean, you should go up there and wait, right? Just incase he needs to talk to someone."

Sirius couldn't help but laugh at the suggestion. James was diving right into parenting. "Ron's up there too."

"Ron?" James asked, puzzled. The name had been said before, but he was still hazy on all of the non-Harry parts of conversations.

Moving to explain, Sirius answered, "His best friend. Remember, Remus and I said that you'd apparated to Ron's house? You met his mum, that nice lady you screamed at. Actually, you woke them up when you blew out the windows."

Sheepishly, James responded, "I didn't mean to do that." Before Sirius could make a sarcastic comment to match the look on his face, James changed the subject. "So, he and Ron are close."

"Absolutely." He grinned, "They've been likened to a different pair of friends to pass through these hallways."

Seeing the comparison clearly, James smiled. He'd always hoped that Harry would end up with a friend like Sirius. Someone he could count on. It appeared he had. Sirius grinned again, continuing on. "They've even got their very own Remus."

"A third? Does he make them study instead of prank?" James asked teasingly. Fond memories of grumbling over Remus's practicality flowed through his mind. Though he had recently made the decision to block out all memories to do with Peter and Lily, for entirely different reasons for the both of them. He was doing it because he needed to focus on Harry. He would deal with the past later.

Tilting his head to the side to concede that there were a few differences between the practical ones in both groups, Sirius smiled a bit sheepishly. "Well, he's a she for starters. Hermione, that's her name. And yes, she does make them study. The girl sounds like she's swallowed the textbooks. She's sweet though, I like her. Keeps them in line as much as she can – which isn't actually much. She obviously cares about them both, so she's just as loyal as Remus."

"So he's got good friends, right?" James asked, painful memories of Peter dragging to the surface. His betrayal – while a decade old – was still fresh in his mind. A stinging reminder of what the dark arts could do to a solid friendship.

Sirius saw where James's mind had gone. He answered more quietly than usual. "Yeah, he does."

"And he's happy?"

The question was asked so quietly that Sirius wasn't sure he heard it. But he had, and he knew how much the answer meant to James. He pushed aside the memories of Harry's nightmares and the stares of the year before. "He's happy, Prongs. Really happy." He said.

But the way he said it suggested so much more.

---------------------------------------

James realized what Sirius had been trying to say. The words and his voice were saying that Harry wasn't just happy in general. But also, happy about his father's return from the dead.

He sighed, Merlin he hoped Harry was happy to have his father back. He was terrified that Harry had been living parent-free so long that getting a father didn't sound like such an appealing idea. And the worst part was that if Harry did decide that, James couldn't blame him for it.

There were so many things he wanted to say to his son, so many things that Harry had to hear. But at the same time there was a lot that James wanted to hear from Harry. They had a lot to catch up on. But he was more than thankful for the chance to do so.

He was terrified that this would upset Harry. And there really wasn't anything he could do to calm those fears, only Harry could do that.

The door to the hospital wing opened and James moved to greet Sirius. But Sirius was not standing there, nor was Padfoot. Instead, there was a boy. A boy who looked surprisingly familiar.

James leapt out of the bed. His heart was telling him to go to the boy, but his feet were firmly planted. Sadly, this did nothing for his mouth. "Harry?" he asked quietly, but the already quiet hospital wing made his whisper seem like a shout.

The boy had his back turned to James, and he stopped dead in his tracks. He, like James, was slammed with the meeting before either had thought up what to do. But there were no take backs, and no time-turners were in sight.

Harry – or at least whom James thought was Harry – did not turn around, and did not say a word. James felt his heartbeat quicken, this was Harry. He didn't need the boy's confirmation to know what his heart was screaming. He tentatively moved forward, towards the teenager in front of him. Harry slowly turned, looking at him as though he were some type of monster. His steps grew more sure the closer he got. With a shaking hand he reached out for Harry.

Though he did not know it, Harry was to having the same feeling. But his mind was again trying not to believe it. Shock had taken the teenager over and he did the only thing he could think of to get away from the situation.

He lashed out.

"Don't touch me!" He yelled. Harry reeled back, false anger in his eyes. His voice was harsh, harsher than he knew he had in him. But Harry did not regret the words, this is what needed to happen. James could not die again because of him. But it didn't matter, because this was not his father. He would not get close to this man. All of the reason's he'd had for coming down to the hospital wing vanished with Harry's fear of being rejected. Of losing someone he loved again. The situation was happening too fast, and Harry was not prepared to deal with it.

James drew back, as if stung. Harry looked at him angrily, green eyes dangerously shining. Lily's eyes. Images of her flashed in James's mind. Seeing her eyes flash that way as she blamed him for her death. Pushing the images aside, James focused solely on his son, his baby.

Both of them took only seconds to scan each other.

Harry could see why everyone had always said to him that he was truly his father's son. If looks were a way to determine how people were, then he and James would almost be exactly similar. Their eyes were the only real indicators of differences. Though, James did look slightly older, he realized with a jolt. But not as old as he should be. His father was still in his early twenties, whereas his best friends were in their early thirties and his son was all of six years younger. He could see the desperation in James's eyes. As though he needed to make Harry understand something. There was a love that underlain them, something so intense that Harry had never seen before in his life.

And James also understood why Sirius said that Harry was almost exactly like him in looks. With the exception of their eyes, and that Harry was only slightly shorter than he was. Harry looked angry, though James could see that it was a more hysteric anger than a hateful one. Harry was running on shock, which James could understand.

"I'm sorry, I won't touch you, okay? It's all right." James said, as soothingly as he could manage. James could barely believe that he'd gone from lashing out at Sirius like this only a short time beforehand to now trying to calm a son who was doing the same thing. But at the moment his feelings did not matter, Harry's did. He held his hands up to show that he had no intentions of touching Harry, and he took a step back – no matter how painful that little step was.

Harry narrowed his eyes and he also took a step back from James. He was unsure how to respond to that, it was as though James was talking to a wild animal. "Stay away from me."

"I will, I'll stay right here." James promised Harry. He watched how tense his son was and wished he could calm the young boy. But that wouldn't work, he didn't know how to calm him. He didn't even know him. But he could try.

Staggering back, Harry looked shocked that what Sirius had said was true. Shaking his head, he tried to dispute that. This was not James Potter. But his heart told him differently. There was something there, some connection that he couldn't deny. James felt it too. But Harry would not acknowledge it. "You're not my father." He whispered aloud.

The words were delivered with the harsh voice that the others had. Though they hurt all the same. James could see, however, that Harry didn't truly mean it. "I am." He said back firmly.

Neither moved for a moment. If Madame Pomfrey was around then she didn't make herself known. No one went in or out of the hospital wing. It was barely light inside.

"Harry, I know you're shocked – maybe scared." James started, trying again to reassure his son.

But Harry drew back even more. Clenching his teeth, he practically screamed. "No! You don't' know if I'm shocked or not. You don't know me at all! I might as well be a stranger!"

Closing his eyes, James knew that his son was telling the truth. He tried to keep his voice level, not to let Harry know just how afraid he was too. "I don't know you, you're right. But I want to."

"Well I don't care what you want." Harry stated sarcastically. "What I do want is for you to stop pretending to be James Potter. Go tell Voldemort it didn't work. I'm not biting."

So his son said Voldemort's name. James did not flinch like many did. "I don't work for Voldemort, Harry. I never have and I never will. And I am not pretending to be anyone but myself. I am James Potter, and I am your father."

"My father's dead."

James heard the sad voice, the broken sound that Harry had to it. But he could also hear the desperation that came from trying to make yourself believe something was false when you already knew that it was true. "You don't believe that. You know who I am."

"No, I don't. Why don't you tell me who you really are?" Harry challenged. He refused to back down, refused to allow himself to call this man his father.

"I'm the man that loves you more than anything or anyone. I'm the man that took care of you when you were sick at six months. I'm the person who fed you and bathed you and got you dressed each morning and each night." James whispered, he didn't bother to hold back the tears anymore. They streamed freely from his hazel pain filled eyes.

Harry said nothing and did not stop James.

"I'm the man that swore to protect you, but failed in the end. I'm the guy that practically begged you to speak months before you were even going to. I was the one that you walked to from the other side of the room the first time you learned to walk." James continued. "And I am the one that died trying to save you. I'm also the one that would do it all over again. I am your father, Harry."

Shaking his head from side to side, Harry refused to believe James's words. He ignored the stinging in his eyes, that familiar burn that told him that he was about to cry. He wouldn't let this man see him cry, or know how deeply affected those words had made him. "Shut up. Be quiet!" he yelled.

"NO! I won't be quiet. Not until you believe me." James yelled back. "I know you're scared, I know you don't want to lose another person you love. I understand that Harry, I do. But I'm right here!"

Harry rushed forward and shoved James back. "You're not! My father died. He died because of me!"

"Not because of you, for you!" James answered, horrified that his son thought that his parent's deaths were his own fault. He looked up at Harry, who was breathing hard. "You were just a baby, it couldn't have been because of you."

"If I hadn't of been there, if I wasn't the boy who lived, then you would have been fine! He wanted me!" Harry said, his voice falling back into a brokenness that cut at James's heart.

James felt the tears fall down even harder. He pulled himself off of the floor. "And I wouldn't let him have you. Neither would your mother." He stated with such conviction that Harry had no argument.

"He'll only kill you again." Harry whispered, voicing the fear that had been present since he'd seen James in the hospital wing. The people he loved, the ones around him, where falling faster than Harry knew what to do about it. Voldemort was back, the threat was the same as before.

The whisper made everything click in James's mind. Harry wasn't so much determined to keep himself from having a parent, but determined to keep himself from losing one. If he didn't get close, if he stayed away, constantly being cold towards his father, then Voldemort wouldn't go through James to get to Harry. And even if he did, it wouldn't hurt as much if he wasn't attached.

James couldn't let his son live his life that way. "Harry, what happens - happens. But I'm here now. And I'm not going to leave you again." He quietly answered. He took a step towards Harry, and the boy remained locked in his spot. Harry's eyes were downcast, staring intently on the floor.

"Yes, you will." Harry answered. He couldn't believe otherwise. Everyone he loved had to leave him at some point. There was no constant figure in his life. His godfather was torn away from him the same night as his parents, and was kept away from him after that. Remus wasn't in his life for twelve years. Dumbledore for a decade. Not even Ron or Hermione were a constant. "Everyone does."

The pain in Harry's voice was only making it worse for James. He wanted to comfort his son, but that would remain not allowed for as long as Harry refused to be touched. "You need to trust me, Harry. I know I said that I wouldn't let anything happen to you, and obviously I was wrong. But I'm going to try again, even if I need to take my invisibility cloak and follow you around all day." He added, smiling slightly and hoping Harry would follow his lead. He wished he knew what Harry looked like while he smiled.

"I'll give it back to you, it's yours after all." Harry answered, still unable to look at James. The older man had noticed immediately that Harry had quit denying that he was James.

But Harry's last statement didn't make sense. "What will you give back to me?"

"Your cloak." Harry said simply. They both needed the break from the harder parts of the conversation. This was a breather, a chance to gather their bearings. But Harry was unaware, his exhaustion – both mental and physical – had caught up with him. James could sense it and allowed the boy to lead the conversation.

He had given it to Dumbledore for safekeeping, it was possible that Harry had it now. "If you've been using it then keep it, it's yours."

Venom returning to his voice, Harry geared himself up for another attempt to get away. "I don't want anything of yours."

"Well, too bad. You've got it, anything you want that I can give you." James said, booking no room for an argument. "And onto of that, you've got me."

Harry said nothing, he just stared at his father. He was trembling, that anyone could see. And James could see that he didn't really have the strength to fight him anymore. "Listen to me, Harry. I'm here, and I'm sorry I haven't been here before this. I can't stand the fact that I wasn't there for you all you life. I hate that I have to be told by everyone else what you look like and how you act. I want to know all that."

He could see that Harry was debating with himself. Just like Lily, the green eyes were always showing his emotions. Harry was trying to think if getting close to James was worth it.

Harry wanted a father, which he could not deny. He'd spent hours as a child dreaming up ways for his long lost dad to appear and whisk him away from the hell of the Dursleys. But that was before he knew the truth. Before he even knew of the world that he held so dear, the world that he had to save by destiny. This was a fact that he would be a liar to deny. But now that what he'd wanted since he could remember was sitting right in front of him, could he risk it?

Somehow, he understood that the risk was not in allowing James to love him. Harry could see it in his eyes, James would be the father he'd never had or even dreamed of. He could clearly see how much the man in front of him loved him. It was painfully obviously that James wanted to hold him, and Harry could almost feel it.

There was also no risk in trusting James either. He could see his father was painfully loyal and wouldn't dream of casting him aside or treating him as the Dursleys did all those years.

The risk, however, was in putting him in danger. He didn't want his father to die because of him. Not again. The thoughts flew in his mind at an alarming rate, and James could practically understand it all.

He could see where Harry's mind had gone and moved to calm those fears. "Harry," he started gently, "-I've always been a target for Voldemort. Because of my family before me, we've always been on the light side. And then when Sirius and I became aurors it only made it worse. We were always on his hit list. I always will be."

Harry shook his head, but he was unsure as to what he was refuting. His mind was almost dizzy and his thoughts were practically feverish in manner. He was tired, and he was more scared than he knew he could be. "I don't know what I'd do if you died because of me."

James took a step forward, now only four feet separated the two. "You'd go on and deal with that crazy mutt godfather of yours." He teased, "Harry, you'd be fine. And you'd remember that it was not your fault." He concluded, gravely serious despite his previous joke.

Staring at James, Harry knew he couldn't fight what he so desperately wanted. He moved forward with his hand outstretched. James didn't move, allowing his son to come to him at the pace he wanted.

Once his hand reached James's chest – right over his heart, where as a baby he'd spent quite a bit of time leaning against – he stopped, suddenly afraid that after all this talking that his father wasn't real. He was on autopilot, exhausted from the emotional upheaval he'd been going through since the night before.

Resolutely, he pushed forward. His hand connected with James's dark blue robes and the solid flesh underneath. He was warm to Harry's touch. He was alive.

What little self control Harry had left crumbled and he started freely crying harder than before. It killed James all over again to see his son so upset. He pulled Harry forward the rest of the way and wrapped his arms around him.

"Shh, it's all right now. I'm here. It's going to be okay. We'll be all right together." James tried to reassure Harry. One hand slid up and cradled the back of Harry's head while the other one was wrapped protectively around his back.

Harry said nothing to this but just tightened the hold he had of James's neck and waist. They merely stood there for only minutes, though it felt like a lifetime more. Harry sobbed quietly into his father's robes, wetting them with his hot tears.

"Don't worry, baby. We're together again." James whispered. "I love you so much."

Just hearing that caused Harry to go boneless with relief. They slid to the floor slowly and both kneeled on the cold ground. Neither noticed or really cared. They were too wrapped up in the other's presence.

Harry's tears and sobs subsided to a few tears trickling down his face. His head was against the same spot he had touched on James. The heartbeat he found there, now so strong when before it had been none-existent was calming and Harry couldn't help but feel his eyelids droop.

"Go to sleep Harry. I promise I'll be here when you wake up." James whispered. He didn't care that it was technically early morning.

And Harry did just that.


I don't know how pleased I am by this chapter. Actually, it's more the ending than anything else. I realize that I just posted the last one yesterday, and I did say that this might take awhile. But luckily I had most of this done (nine out of the eleven pages) beforehand.

Well, it's taken me twelve chapters to get there, but Harry and James have met. Since this is what you've all been waiting for, do tell me what you think. I have to give a thank you to all of the reviewers who tell me distinctly what they do and don't like about the chapter. Whether it be specific lines or just a little bit to let me know which part, I love that you guys do this for me. It's wonderfully helpful and kind of beta-like, which I appreciate.

I realize that this story is far from done, but you'll have to forgive me for feeling like I've passed the big hurdle. Now all I have to do is sit tight and wait for an expectable time period to pass before I can post this (as today is Tuesday, I posted 11 on Monday I'm going to go with you're reading this on Wednesday – I truly am sad).

Oh, and Gherkin (who was too lazy to sign in) - I do hope I got this up in time before you had to go to school. Good luck and see you at holidays for a catch up in reading!

Thanks again to every one of the reviewers, you guys are what make me go so damned fast. 400? I am sincerely shocked.

Okay, I migh have gotten this up sooner than expected, but I'm not posting again for this until my other story gets an update. Sadly, I've got a bit of a block for that one. So I'm not really sure how long it will take for another update.

Okay, I'm done, aren't you pleased? I've really got to cut down these authors notes, though I do take pride in the fact that they're not always this long and that I've read far worse. I really need to stop now.

Stars Enchantress