Outtake #3

June 2011

The hair on the back of Harry's neck stood up and he froze. Just moments before, he'd been slaving away over the endless reports and paperwork that came with being the Head of the Auror Department. But now... he cocked his head and listened. Silence. No slamming doors. No loud whoops of laughter from James, indignant squawks from Al, or shrieks from Lily. The Potter home was quiet. Too quiet. Ginny was gone covering a Quidditch match, and Harry was in charge of the kids.

And he knew from long practice -- he didn't believe in being an absent father -- that silence meant that some sort of disaster was brewing. Being James' father these last nine years had taught him that.

"James?" he said. "Al? Lily?" He pushed open the door to his study, half-hoping to find two black-haired boys and a red-haired little girl loitering about. But that was too good to be true. The hall was empty. He strode down, senses alert. He needn't have bothered. A small explosion in the form of an eight year old boy erupted into his side. Harry caught James by the elbow before he could topple over.

"Dad!" he shouted. "I can't find Al anywhere!"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked calmly. He'd learned long ago that a crisis according to James was generally not a crisis at all. "Did you say something to him?"

"No," James said defensively. "We were playing hide and go seek--"

Harry wrinkled his brow. "And you're worried that you can't find him? Isn't that the point?"

"Yes," James said slowly, as though Harry was the eight year old. "But I've looked everywhere. I swear, Dad, he isn't in the house."

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but just then he heard a faint chuckle. He knew Al's devious little giggle anywhere. Both of his sons took after their trouble-making Granddad Potter, but Al was far more subtle. Harry was already preparing himself to have a son in Slytherin. "Al," he said. "What did Mummy and I tell you about wearing my Cloak?"

He had to bite back a grin at the horrified and irritated look that crossed James' face. "That's cheating!"

The skinny five year old pulled off the cloak. He looked at Harry and widened his eyes. Harry was not fooled by the innocent look. Just last week, Al had stowed along in the car while Harry ran a few errands, and he had used the Cloak to do it. It had nearly scared the shit out of Harry when he'd glanced in the mirror to see his son's untidy head and wide grin. And no matter where Harry hid it, he always seemed to find it, and quickly enough that Harry and Ginny suspected he was using magic to do so.

"You're not supposed to use the Cloak," James said forcefully.

"I didn't know," Al told his brother.

"Yes you did," James insisted.

"Did not," Al said.

"Did so--"

The circular argument was broken off when a diversion in the form of three year old Lily appeared. She ran shrieking down the hall. She was wearing one orange sandal, a feather boa, and nothing else. "BOGG'RT! BOGG'RT!" she shouted and threw herself into Harry's arms.

"Wicked!" James said. "Where, Lily?"

"Th' toilet," she stuck her thumb in her mouth and put her head on his shoulder.

James looked suspicious. "Are you sure it wasn't just your poop?"

Harry barked out a laugh before he could stop himself. "It might've been the cat," he said. He highly doubted that Lily had truly seen a boggart in the toilet. He suspected that she was ready for her afternoon nap and wanted a little extra attention. He stroked her back and she cuddled closer. "We'll go check it out and then we'll go read a little story, what do you say?"

She nodded.

"And put some clothes on," Al said.

"Hate clothes," said Harry's little nudist.

"We know," Harry, James, and Al said in unison.

"C'mon, Al," James said. "It's your turn to be it."

"You never found me!" said Al, outraged. "I was following you around and everything!"

"You cheated," James explained patiently.

"Al, give me the Cloak," Harry said firmly. Al reluctantly handed it to him. Harry did a double take when he saw what his son was wearing: one of Harry's ties and his old trainers that he'd thought buried in the back of his closet. His lips twitched. "Al, haven't you got enough of your own clothes? Do you need to wear mine?"

"I want to be just like you, Dad," Al said earnestly.

And just like that, Harry's throat locked up. It hit him like this every once in a while. It seemed like such a miraculous thing, that Harry finally had his family. Times like these were so precious, and it seemed to fly by. Harry could have sworn that Ginny had just given birth to James, but in three years he'd be heading off to Hogwarts. And Al and Lily would soon follow and have adventures of their own. And it just seemed so unreal; life had led him here. He'd reached this place. And, as he always did in these moments as he looked at his children, he sent a silent 'thank you' to Merlin, for whatever he had done.

"Dad? Earth to Dad!" James said.

Harry reached over and ruffled Al's hair. "What do you say we wait a little bit for the story, Lily? Want to play hide and go seek with our boys?"

"YES!" she shouted, suddenly wide awake and quite alert.

James and Al gave each other a high five, looking almost painfully excited. "You can't use the Cloak either, though, Dad," James said sternly.

"And make Lily put on some clothes!"