A Sovereign Summer

by DukeBrymin

Before Harry could treat Ginny like a queen, he had to change.

6. Chapter 6

"Dad? Is that really you?" Harry asked again, incredulous. Sure, Sirius had told him, but now that it was happening, he couldn't quite believe it.

"You were expecting the Ghost of Christmas Present, perhaps? Of course it's me, Harry! I fought hard for the right to come visit you. Your mother was rather peeved that I beat her at Wand, Shield, House-elf, but she'll get her chance tom- I mean, um. . . aw, bugger, I wasn't supposed to tell you."

Harry's face had grown a humongous smile. "Mum's coming tomorrow night? Oh, I hoped and I hoped, but I wasn't sure. I mean, there wasn't really anyone else that I could think of, but actually getting to see her! And Sirius had said you were coming, but after all, he is a Marauder, and I wouldn't put it past him to make it all into some sort of joke."

James laughed. "Yeah, he always was the Marauders' worst prankster, but even he wouldn't have been so mean. So, stand up, let me look at you. Turn around. Okay, Sirius already talked to you about getting new clothing, right? Those tents you're wearing now certainly don't make you any more attractive to your future wife. And exercising, right? Got to get into better shape so you can off that evil git and live happily ever after with the red-headed girl of your choice. And, having a definite shape to your body-other than a stick, I mean-helps in the whole romance department. So, what's her name?"

Harry was rather dazed by being babbled at by his long-dead father, and blurted out, without thinking, "Ginny Weasley". Whereupon he turned a brilliant scarlet and started stammering. "I mean, um, not that I've. . . But there's this other guy. . . Uh, bollocks!" he finally yelled and sat down hard on the bed.

James sat down by him, put an arm around him, and pulled him close. "Forgive me, son, please. I didn't really want to trick you like that, but we really need to start this conversation on an honest footing. Now that you've admitted it to me, and to yourself-you have admitted it to yourself, haven't you?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I was just sitting here thinking about her, and trying to decide what to do, since I really do fancy her."

"Good. It's nice to know my timing isn't far off. Now, we'll get back to her in a bit, but I really want to talk to you, father-to-son. We never really had that opportunity before Voldemort attacked, you know. Mostly it was father-to-baby-who-wasn't-a-very-good-co nversationalist."

Harry giggled at that, which served to embarrass him yet again, but his dad just smiled. "I don't really know what to say, Dad. You've been watching my life, right?" James nodded. "So, you know what my life has been like. And all because of the Dursleys." He continued, his voice getting louder. "And I just wish you and Mum were still alive. And then Sirius went and died too. Why did you have to leave me? Why did everyone leave me? I hate my life! I hate you!" Harry stopped, shocked at what had burst out of his mouth. What had he done? He looked up, horrified, into what he knew was going to be a look of disgust and loathing. What he saw was a face almost a mirror of his own. Tears were streaming out of James' eyes, and the grief on his face revealed a pain as acute as Harry's.

James pulled Harry into his lap-no mean feat-and rocked back and forth soothingly. "I'm so sorry, Harry. I would do anything to have been able to raise you. Your mum and I love you so much. We didn't want to leave you. Please believe that."

James sniffed, then continued. " The years we've had to sit and watch you deal with the abuse of your aunt and uncle, and Voldemort's continual attacks on you-we felt so helpless! Your mum has cried herself to sleep more times than I can count after seeing a particularly bad day. Please don't hate us, Harry. We love you so much."

Harry squirmed around in his dad's arms until he could wrap both arms around him, hugged as tight as he could, and just cried in his father's arms for the first time in his life that he could remember.

When men cry together, it's a good thing. Emotions are released, catharsis happens. Society, however, tends to disapprove of men showing such supposedly weak emotions. Which means that after a good crying session, the men involved are embarrassed, and there's a lot of harumphing, and coughing, and averting of eyes, and "hey, did you catch the football game yesterday?" being said. Luckily, when Harry's and James' tears finally calmed down, they skipped right past the embarrassment, and went straight to the bonding.

Harry leaned back a bit, so he could look James in the eyes, and said, "I'm sorry, Dad. I don't really hate you-I don't know why I said that."

James smiled a watery smile. "That's okay, Harry. I imagine there was a lot of pain and anger that you needed to let out. I have to say that I'm very glad you don't hate us, me in particular, because it would make the rest of my visit somewhat awkward."

It wasn't really particularly funny but they laughed more than was really warranted.

Eventually, Harry climbed off his father's lap and sat down in the desk chair. "So, Sirius came to tell me some things I needed to do to get my life in order. Cedric came, I guess, to help me get over the guilt I felt at his death. What's your reason for coming?"

James affected a very elderly tone. "What, I can't come see my son when he's home from school? I haven't heard from you in fifteen years, and all of a sudden you're wondering why I'm here? Kids these days-they just don't understand family!"

By this time Harry was laughing so hard he was having trouble breathing, and James silently congratulated himself for getting that strong a reaction to his teasing. He thought that maybe, just maybe, this visit would turn out even better than he'd hoped. Lily, of course, had had no doubts-such is the prerogative of mothers, to be absolutely certain of events involving their children. But fathers seem to just muddle along sometimes, mucking things up occasionally, but hopefully reaching the goal in the end.

Harry brought James out of his reverie by reaching out a hand, cautiously, and touching James' hand. "Dad? Did you and Mum. . . Did you really love me? Everyone tells me you did, but I've never really heard it, and the Dursleys. . . well, they told me that no-one would ever love me, that I was a freak and should have died with you."

James stifled the pure rage that rushed through him at the reminder of Harry's hideous treatment at the Dursleys' hands. He gripped Harry's hand in his own. "Harry, let me tell you something about family, okay? Now, you might want to get comfortable, and see if there are any biscuits in that picnic basket, 'cause this is going to be a long talk."

Harry reluctantly pulled away from his father and went to the closet. He pulled out the picnic basket and opened it up. Sure enough, inside were chocolate biscuits, a jug of ice-cold milk, and a pair of mugs, just the right size for dipping. He distributed the goods, then they both made themselves comfortable.

James looked at Harry, after swallowing a bite of biscuit. "Now, I need to give you some history about your mum's and my relationship first, is that okay?"

Harry, anxious to hear anything at all about his parents, nodded and uttered a very muffled "Yef" through a mouthful of biscuit.

"When I first saw your mother on the Hogwarts Express, I was amazed. She had the prettiest hair I'd ever seen. I didn't really know what I felt at the time, after all, I was only eleven, and boys usually don't have a clue what it means to like a girl at that age, right? Well, I saw that long, deep red hair, and decided that I wanted to see the girl that it belonged to. I followed her to a compartment, and invited myself in. She was sitting with a couple of other girls, I assume. I didn't rightly notice-I only had eyes for her. She turned to me to tell me off for barging in without an invitation, and I saw those incredible eyes."

"Yeah, just like mine, right?" Harry asked.

"Well, it's interesting to see them, Harry. Your eyes have the same almond shape as your mother's. And they're both very green. But both your and her eyes change from dark to light, depending on your moods and what's happening in your life at the moment. Hers were the brightest green when she held you for the first time. She was so happy. The joy seemed to flood out of her body and fill the room when they placed you in her arms. But I've also seen them dark, and that's rather scary. She's gotten angry at me a time or two, and I can always tell how much trouble I was in by how dark her eyes get. Well, remember that I went into her compartment and she was going to start yelling at me? Well, that's when I fell in love with those eyes. Of course, I didn't know, at the time, what it was-I just knew that my life had a new purpose; bothering Lily Evans."

"You bothered her? What, you mean, like kicking her chair or something?" Harry asked while precariously balancing his mug of milk and reaching for another biscuit.

"Or something. I would try to sit by her in every class-I swear when we got to third year she made sure to pick every elective I didn't, just because she wanted to be away from me. And I'd show off in front of her-and let me tell you, that didn't work at all. Showing off can impress some girls, but the ones that are worthwhile aren't impressed by childish stunts."

"I saw something once-I accidentally saw into Snape's pensieve, and there was a scene of you and Sirius and Professor Lupin tormenting Snape, and Snape's calling Mum a Mudblood. I. . . I didn't know what to think about that."

James' face grew a little red. "That was, I think, in my fifth year, right? I'm rather embarrassed about having done that. Don't get me wrong, Harry, Severus and I hated each other, well, still do, I reckon. He's always been a greasy git-" Harry laughed at how similar his dad's opinion was to his own, "-and much too involved in the Dark Arts. He gave as good as he got, though. We were on the receiving end of some rather well-planned-out pranks, and they definitely weren't fun. But let me tell you a little about what was going on in my life at that time. It was at a time when I was pretty angry. Looking back on it now, it doesn't seem as bad, or at least, not so upsetting, but at the time it was horrible. My mum had just owled me to say that she'd suffered yet another miscarriage, but that this time it had made her sterile. I was devastated that I wouldn't be able to have the little brother that they had been trying to give me for so long. And I was thinking about it, and it was eating at me, so when the opportunity to do something to let out my anger came, I didn't hold back."

"What did Mum think about it? She seemed pretty upset in the pensieve."

"Yeah, that wasn't a fun time for her either. See, she had started being more friendly towards me-I had toned down my showing-off, and started to try to be a real friend to her, and we were actually on pretty good terms. But she saw me do that, and gave me the cold shoulder for about two weeks. Later on she told me that she was so mad at me for being a git again-she said she had really started to like me. But Remus finally got her alone and told her what had been going on. I think I owe my marriage to him-don't tell him I said that-because she came around the next day and apologized. I ended up spilling out everything that had been bothering me, and she just hugged me. Surprisingly, that was what really cemented our future. I realized that not only was she beautiful, and smart, but that I could tell her everything going on in my mind, and she wouldn't laugh at me or spill my secrets. I guess what I really found out was that she was someone I could be myself with, and not worry about acting a certain way. I trusted her with my heart, and she took care of it.

"Harry, that's one of the things I wanted to talk to you about. When you go looking for someone to love, look for someone that, first and foremost, you can be friends with. If you can't be friends, then it's no use trying to fall in love. Do you think your Ginny could be that for you?"

Harry blushed bright red again. "Dad! She's not my Ginny-she's probably dating someone else right now."

"Harry, that's not what I asked. I just wanted to know if this person about whom you're so hot and bothered-" Harry blushed harder, "-could be your best friend. So, can she?"

Harry thought about it, but in truth didn't have to think too hard. She had stepped into the role of good friend without hesitation over the last year, finagling a way to let him talk to Sirius, standing up to the Inquisitorial Squad, insisting on helping at the Ministry. "Yeah, Dad, she could."

"Good, son. That's important. If you feel that way about her, then you have a better-than-average chance of getting together with her.

"Okay, now, I think your original point was to ask if we loved you, right?"

Harry just nodded, mouth full of milk and biscuit mush.

"And you're wondering how long it's going to take to get to that point, right?"

Harry nodded again, sheepishly.

"Well, we're almost there, so hang on. Where was I? Oh, yeah. So, after that incident that you saw-well, really after she came and hugged me, we were what you would call inseparable. I asked her to be my girlfriend," James laughed a bit here. "Want to know what she said?"

The look Harry gave James was the same as any teenager would give any parent-James was happy to see such a normal response.

"She said no. She said that she had promised herself a long time before that she would never be one of those girls that depends on a guy for everything, that waits around and swoons over the most meaningless romantic gesture. In fact, she had gone so far as to make a promise to herself to never say yes to a guy who asked her to be his girlfriend."

Harry was dumbfounded. "But, weren't you. . .? Didn't you two date or anything?"

"Of course we did-we went steady for the rest of our time at Hogwarts, and married rather quickly after graduation."

"So, you went steady, but she wasn't your girlfriend? I'm confused." Harry's face did, indeed, reflect that bemusement.

"So, after she turned me down and explained all that, she turned right around and asked me to be her boyfriend."

Silence reigned. Then they both broke out into gales of laughter. Eyes streamed tears, and ribs ached by the time they were done.

"I think I really want to get to know Mum-she seems just the person to help me understand Ginny. I mean, how do I know she likes me? How do I let her know I like her? Hermione said she'd gotten over me, but sometimes I think she still cares about me." Harry was starting to look a little frantic, but his dad put his arm around him again and pulled him close.

"Harry, son, don't worry about it. We'll talk about that a little later too, okay? Just be patient, and I'll try to answer all your questions, and give you some advice, and maybe, just maybe, you'll be ready for the rest of the summer."

Harry sniffled a bit. "Okay, Dad. I'll try."

"Okay, so, your mom and I were married right out of Hogwarts, and I joined the Aurors right away. The entrance requirements had been relaxed then-the Minister actually looked like he wanted to fight against Voldemort, so they were recruiting more Aurors-not like your idiot Fudge, who's more interested in lining his pockets than in actually doing his job."

"Wait a minute. I thought Mum was an Auror too? She was in the Order of the Phoenix, wasn't she?"

"Of course she was in the Order! She was one of the most important members! But she went to work in the Experimental Charms, Hexes, and Ink Section of the Department of Mysteries. She wanted to develop stronger shields and better protections for those of us who had to fight. Don't get me wrong, she was crazy good in a duel. I remember this one time Sirius asked a rather inappropriate question about just what we had been doing out after curfew, and she formally challenged him. Since it was formal, he couldn't back down, even though he knew he was going to lose in the most humiliating manner possible. We kept it a secret, and went to the Come and Go Room the next day, where she proceeded to disarm him, tie his hands to his ankles, give him elephant ears, a bad case of intestinal discomfort, and a shaved head. She then vanished his shoes, painted his toenails and fingernails glowing pink, hexed his shirt to say, in glowing orange letters, I'm the world's worst git, please hex me! then made him crawl down to Professor Binn's classroom where he had to sing "I Feel Pretty" before convincing Binns to release him. As I recall, it took about half an hour to just get Binns' attention."

"Did you get any pictures?" was the only thing Harry could manage to squeak out.

"Am I a Marauder or am I a Marauder? Never fear, they're in the personal vault that Sirius told you to get access to."

"Oh, if only I'd known about that before he came! I'll never get the chance to take the mickey out of him! Say, Dad, could you do it for me? I mean, you'll see him again, right?"

James just nodded, then tried to grab the reins of the conversation again. "Well, anyway, she was brilliant at her work, and developed some rather intriguing protections. But I'll let her tell you."

Harry's face brightened at the reminder that he'd get to finally talk to his mum the following night.

James continued, "So, she and I worked on stopping Voldemort, and we were pretty effective, I might add. But then, one day, she told me that she was pregnant. Now, Harry, you have to understand that I was very happy. I was head over heels in love with your mum and she was the same for me. Aside from a megalomaniacal madman running around trying to kill people, we were living a blissful existence. In fact, I had believed, firmly, that I couldn't be any happier than I was. But when your mum told me that we were going to have a baby, I realized how wrong I had been. The idea that we two, together, had created a new life was just. . . wondrous, I guess."

Harry's eyes were getting suspiciously moist, so he cleared his throat and rummaged for another biscuit. Instead, he found a banana, and decided that if Scruffy thought he should be eating more fruit, he might as well humor the little elf.

James smirked at the banana, and continued the story. "Now, the pregnancy wasn't perfect, don't get me wrong. Lily had pretty bad morning sickness for a while, until she managed to invent a charm that lessened it. She was pretty happy to have found a practical charm that could be put to wide-spread use. In fact, she's probably helped more people with that charm than all the other charms she invented put together. After that, the only problem the pregnancy caused was making us have to try other positions to-" James abruptly stopped, turned an alarming shade of red, and cleared his throat. "Well, anyway, we were so happy then that we figured we could never be happier. I just knew that the love I felt for your mother, and the love I felt for the little lump that was you, could never be surpassed. But then, you were born, and I thought my heart would burst. I think that as we add more people into our circle of love, our hearts grow to accommodate them, and the amount of love we can feel increases too. The first time I held you, I just knew that that was the happiest I had ever been. Lily said the same thing, later."

James' eyes were getting a little watery too, so he sniffed a bit and rubbed them dry. "Well, anyway, the answer to your question is that we loved you more than we ever thought possible. I don't think anyone can really understand the depth of love a parent feels for their child until they have one of their own, but it's just incredible."

"It almost sounds like you loved me more than you loved Mum. . . Is that true?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, it kind of does, doesn't it? That's kind of a hard thing to explain. The type of love I feel for your mum is drastically different than the love that we feel for you. That's obvious, right? And comparing amounts doesn't seem to be very useful. I love your mother more than anything, but I also love you more than anything. One thing that I've noticed, as I've watched you and your friends, is that if there isn't a solid, loving relationship between the parents, then it's really the children who suffer. Take, for instance, the happiest family you know. Who is it?"

"Ginny's family," Harry answered, without any hesitation. Then, of course, he blushed at having worded it like that. "I mean, the Weasleys."

James grinned. "Okay, now, tell me what you think of the way Arthur treats Molly, and the way she treats him."

Harry thought about this. He had watched them quite a bit, as they were the nicest married couple that he knew, although that really wasn't saying a lot; there wasn't a lot of competition. "Well, to me it seems like he's always complimenting her, and he always kisses her when he sees her, whether it's the first time that day, or the seventeenth. Ron and the twins always groan and pretend to gag about it, but I've always thought it was rather sweet." He thought about mentioning that Ginny never carried on like the boys when her parents were kissing; in fact, she always had a certain almost wistful look on her face.

"Have you noticed anything else about them? Do they ever talk bad about the other, or talk down to or demean each other in the slightest?"

"No, at least, I've never heard of anything like that. They always seem to have this, I don't know, respect for each other, even though they've been married forever."

"And I'll bet that they also teach their children to respect their parents, don't they?"

Harry thought back to the previous summer, when he'd witnessed a rather telling demonstration of the normally placid Arthur's temper. They had been cleaning Grimmauld Place, as always, and Ron had mentioned something about his mother being a hag for making them work so hard. Unfortunately, he had said that just as Arthur was walking by the room. Harry had thought that nothing could make Arthur mad; that day he realized that beneath Arthur's calm, happy, peaceful mien was a fiercely protective, courageous, and, surprisingly, rather scary man. Ron's ears hadn't stopped ringing for the rest of the day, and Harry, Ginny, and Hermione had found themselves free for the next three days as Ron had been informed, in rather loud and forceful words, that he would be cleaning all by himself until he saw the error of his ways.

Harry told the story to his father, causing him to remember the many times that Molly had talked about Arthur while he was at work. She always showed pride in her husband, even though he was generally ridiculed for his obsession with Muggles, and his rather less than favorable position in the Ministry. She must have known how others talked about him, but she never showed any sign that she was anything but bursting with pride for him.

James easily followed Harry's line of thought, and smiled as Harry refocused on his dad. "And how do you think their children turned out?"

Harry smiled. "She's just. . . um. . . they're really happy. They're probably the best kids I know."

"Right. Now, think of your aunt and uncle." Both of them cringed, then chuckled at each other. "All right, do you see anything in their relationship with each other that indicates any sort of love? Any of those traits that Molly and Arthur show? Any touches, kisses..." James pantomimed vomiting at this thought, "any words of endearment?"

Harry shook his head. He honestly couldn't remember seeing anything that showed that Petunia and Vernon did anything but tolerate each other. It was as if they were roommates sharing custody of a whale-sized son. "I suppose they must have something between them, after all, they managed to have Dudley." The thought of what that implied was enough to make Harry throw up a little in his mouth. He swallowed with difficulty, and wished for some butterbeer to chase away the bitter taste.

"Right. And you know how wonderfully Dudley turned out. He's spoiled rotten, and honestly has no idea how to relate to other human beings. Either he sees them as bugs to be squashed, as Vernon does, or people to be coddled and sucked up to, as Petunia does.

"Now, these are two rather extreme examples, but that doesn't mean they're wrong. The point is, if the parents truly, deeply love each other, the home they provide for their children has a chance at being a wonderful environment. Conversely, if the parents don't have that bond of love, then it doesn't matter how they treat the child, they have almost no hope of having a secure self-image."

Harry flinched at this. "Um, Dad? What does. . . what does that mean about me? I spent most of my growing-up years with the worst kind of role models. Does that mean I won't be able to ever feel good about myself? From what you're saying, I should be a git, just like Dudley. Well, maybe not just like Dudley, but certainly messed up."

James sighed. "Harry, you're a somewhat special case. For the first year of your life, well, a little more than a year, you had the best kind of home. Your mum and I tried our best to teach you well and help you be secure and know that you were loved. And we've watched as you've been mistreated, and scorned, and ridiculed, and, to be honest, we wouldn't have been surprised if you had turned out every bit as cruel and hateful as Voldemort. You know he was an orphan too, don't you?" Harry shook his head. "Well, he was, and really, the only difference in your upbringing was that you had parents who loved you for the first part of your life and he never did. All we can guess is that you have an incredibly strong spirit that took in the atmosphere in our home and made that a base for your life. That spirit and subconscious memory of life with me and your mum seems to have protected you from the hate and anger in the Dursleys' home and made you into what you are today; a kind, selfless, loving boy, who just wants everyone to be happy."

Harry ducked his head shyly as his father described him. He really didn't see himself as anything special, but if his dad said it, it must mean something, right? It was in that instant that Harry made a resolution. He thought hard, then looked at his father. "I want to have that kind of family; the kind that you and Mum had; the kind that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley have. Sirius and I talked about who I should model my life after, and I want to be like you." Shyness overtook him, and he mumbled, looking down, "Um, if you don't mind, that is."

The next thing Harry knew, he was being pulled into the tightest embrace yet. "Harry," James said, through sniffles, "nothing makes me happier than to think that we're worth emulating. Merlin knows I wasn't perfect, your mum could attest to that, but you make me proud to call you my son. Although, it might also be helpful to follow Arthur's lead, and, who knows, perhaps you'll really be able to call him Dad one day. . ."

Harry blushed again, then said, "But, um, wouldn't that be dishonoring you? I mean, you're my dad, isn't it unfair to you if I call someone else Dad?"

James laughed. "Harry, you worry too much. Remember that talk about having more people to love? It doesn't mean you love me any less if you choose to call Arthur, or anyone else, for that matter, Dad. You're not replacing me in your heart, right? You're just adding to the group of people that you love and respect."

Harry thought about this, then nodded. A different thought struck him, and he leaned back in his father's arms. "Dad, you keep talking about love, but I'm not really sure I know what love is. Can you, maybe, tell me about love? I mean, I know you love me, and Sirius loves me. But, how do I know if I love someone else?"

James sat back on the bed, lost in thought for about an eighth of a second. "Ouch!" he yelled and stood up rapidly. "What did I sit on?"

Harry looked over. "Oh, that's the broken bedspring. Funny, Sirius sat on it too. I wonder if it's getting worse?"

James looked disgruntledly at the bed, and chose a spot by the window where he gingerly lowered himself.

Harry took the opportunity to visit the loo. It was an unintended, but pleasant, side effect of the lateness of his nightly visitations that he was able to use the facilities without worrying overmuch about anyone banging on the door chivvying him to hurry up. When he returned to his bedroom, it was to see his father looking out at the night with a somewhat pensive expression on his face.

"Dad?" he asked. "What's the matter?"

"Oh, Harry, I just. . . I just hope everything came out okay. . ."

"Bad joke, Dad."

"I know, blame the lateness of the hour. So, you wanted to know how to recognize love, right?"

Harry nodded, idly looking through the picnic basket to see if there were anything else he wanted to nosh on, then seated himself on the bed.

"Well, to give you a somewhat abbreviated way to tell, I read an author who wrote; Love is when the happiness of the other person is essential to your own. I haven't been able to come up with any better explanation of love than that. I know that it doesn't seem to matter how I'm doing, if Lily isn't happy, then I'm not either. It's also true that if she's happy, then I'm happy, regardless of what else is going on in my life. And when you were born, it just proved it all over again. I would come home from a tough day at work, and just seeing you lying there, smiling, blowing spit bubbles and messing your diaper was enough to make me grin for the rest of the evening."

"Dad! Did you have to say that about diapers? That's embarrassing!" Harry interjected.

"Well, of course I did. I mean, it's not like I'm ever going to have the chance to embarrass you in front of your girlfriend now, is it? I have to take all the opportunities to embarrass you that I can." He grinned smugly at his son, who tried hard, but couldn't keep up his irritation in the face of the irrefutable proof that his father loved him.

"Fine, whatever. Just don't. . . don't go appearing to Ginny and telling her stories, okay?" Harry asked.

"Oh, I won't, son. Your mum's doing that right now, so I don't have to."

"What!?" Harry yelled in consternation. "Mum's visiting Ginny? Just what is she telling her? Oh no, I'm never gonna have a chance with her now!"

"Calm down, son, it's not a bad thing, trust me. Your mum and I approve of your Ginny; we don't think you could have picked a better girl to fall for. And no, your mum isn't visiting her like I'm visiting you. Because she's not a blood relative, and hasn't spent the last week, um, becoming closer to the spiritual plane, if you get my meaning, she is only able to appear in her dreams. So, your red-headed girl won't remember everything as clearly as you will be able to do, but she'll remember enough to help her in the future."

"Well, what's Mum telling her? I need to know!"

"No, you don't. They're things that will help her to be strong in her future relationship with you, and probably things that we men aren't supposed to ever find out. Trust me, there are parts of a woman's life that are just not good to understand too fully.

"Now, back to your worry. Do you understand what I'm saying about love?"

"Yeah, I think so. But, I don't feel that way about Ginny, or anyone. Does that mean we're not supposed to be together?" Harry's heart sank at the thought that maybe he and the red-haired girl weren't really suited for each other.

"Harry! Harry! Snap out of it! Of course you don't feel that way yet; you have barely even gotten to be friends with her. You do fancy her, right?"

Harry nodded.

"Then just spend time getting to know her. If you and she are meant to be, then you'll find that you'll enjoy your time together, you'll find things about her that you never knew, that make you fancy her even more. She needs time to get to know you better, too, right? A crush, which is what she's had on you for a very long time, is not a stable basis for a long-lasting relationship. She needs to spend time getting to know you as a person, too. Granted, she's probably further ahead in this than you, as she's been watching you for the past five years, but she still needs to interact with you. This summer is the perfect time for you two to take the time to become good friends. From there you'll be able to see whether you'd be a good match."

"But you and Mum already think we'll be good together, right?"

"Yes, Harry, we do. But our opinions don't really matter, now, do they? If you try it, and it doesn't work out, then that's just how life goes. We'll love whomever you love, don't worry." James felt entirely free to say that, as he and Lily knew, beyond any doubt, that Harry and Ginny were perfectly suited for each other, so he wasn't worried. But Harry had already had so many things pre-ordained for his life that letting him think this wasn't set in stone was probably a blessing.

"Okay, Dad, I'll do that. I wanted to get to know her better anyway, so I'll just work on that. I'm just a little worried about Dean."

"Dean? The guy you share a dorm with? I wouldn't be too worried. The best thing to do in this case is to let her make the decision."

"You mean, just sit back and wait?" Harry was rather depressed at thinking he would have to bide his time until Ginny and Dean broke up, if they ever did. Who knew? Maybe he'd get a chance to sneak in a kiss or something in the middle of a Quidditch celebration or the like.

"Oh, Harry, you're a Gryffindor, aren't you? You can be courageous about this, without coming on too strong. I mean, really, the girl has to make a choice, right? And in order for her to make a choice there has to be at least two. . ." He paused for a long moment. "Come on, you fill in the blank."

Harry thought. "Well, I guess there needs to be options-"

"Exactly," James interrupted. "She has to know she has options. So, instead of sitting around on your bum, waiting for her to get tired of someone who's obviously not well suited for her, let her know that you're available and interested. Once she knows that, she can make up her own mind."

"But, what if she chooses Dean?"

"Ah, that's the hard part, Harry. You absolutely have to respect her decision. If she decides that the time isn't right for her and you to be together, then you need to allow her to have space until she's ready. Don't put your life on hold for her, if some cute girl asks you to Hogsmeade, feel free to go, but remember, if you're unavailable when she's available, that's just more time you have to wait."

"So I just, what, tell her, 'Hey, Ginny, whenever you're ready, you can snog me senseless; I'm waiting for you!'?" The sarcasm fairly dripped from Harry's words.

James laughed, saying "No, probably not like that. But there's nothing wrong with casually mentioning, 'Hey, Ginny, I'd like to take you to Hogsmeade sometime. Will you let me know when you're available?' See? That's very low-key, no pressure, just letting her know where you stand."

Harry scrunched up his eyebrows in thought, then closed his eyes and tried to envision the conversation. No, it wouldn't be pushing too much, and she could always just not be available, although that thought stung his heart a bit.

"Okay, I see what you're saying. I'll. . . I'll try to do something like that. Do you. . . do you really think it'll work?"

James' heart just about broke seeing the shy, insecure boy his cheery baby had become. How he wished he had been able to raise his son, rather than have to watch as the Dursleys did their level best to ruin him. "Come here, Harry," and Harry climbed on James' lap again. "I really do. I know you, and I've watched her. I think she'll at least give you a chance to win her heart, and I think. . . no, I know you have the courage to do this. You'd be surprised at how impressed a girl gets when the guy she likes shows his confidence. And even if she makes you wait for awhile, I think she'll come around in the end."

They sat there in silence for awhile longer. James stirred, then spoke again. "So, Harry, we're assuming that, at some time in the not horribly distant future, you've gotten yourself a girlfriend. Do you know what to do with her once you have her?"

Harry's blush easily rivaled any of the Weasleys on a good day. "Well, um, I kissed Cho Chang once, but I'm not sure I did it right, as it didn't really feel all that great, and she was crying at the time." His voice had pretty much dropped into inaudibility by the time he finished the sentence.

James laughed again. "I remember that. . . we placed bets on how long you two would last. I won, I'm happy to say."

"You were watching?! Oh, why can't I ever have any privacy?" Harry buried his face in his hands. Then he thought of something. "Dad, is there a way I can make sure that none of you dead people can watch me, at certain times?"

James smiled. "Planning on doing a little surreptitious snogging, are you? Well, let me tell you, the only ones who can watch you are the people who have a deep love for you. And those of us who love you like that will always listen if you ask us to turn away for a bit. Does that make you feel any better?"

"Can I, like, say 'Okay, guys, can you give me privacy for the next half-hour'?"

"Yeah, that'll work just fine. And trust me, we aren't watching you every minute of every day-we have our own lives, or rather afterlives to live up there, but we do check in on you occasionally."

"Okay, that's cool. I suppose I should tell Ginny about that so she can get her people to stop watching."

"Sounds like a good idea. But back to the original question. I know they taught a little bit of biology in grammar school, but they didn't really discuss the mechanics of making love, or anything like that, right?"

Harry just squeaked, shook his head, and found something very urgent to study outside the window.

"I thought so. Now, Harry, I need to give you some information and advice about making love. I know you don't need it right now, but you will in the future, and this is something so special, so important, that you owe it to both yourself and your wife not to mess it up, okay?"

Harry reluctantly looked back at his father and nodded.

"So, pay attention. Feel free to take notes, but if you do, make certain sure that you don't let anyone else see them, especially the pigs you live with. Now, the first thing to know. . ."

oooooooooo

Harry's blushing fuse had blown out about one and a half minutes into The Talk, and after about three minutes he had passed through embarrassment into absolute mortification. Nevertheless, he paid strict attention (while carefully avoiding his father's gaze), and took what notes he needed to help him remember The Talk, as, Merlin knows! he never wanted to have to go through it again!

The Talk over with, Harry and his dad passed a very pleasant time discussing Quidditch, with Harry teasing his father about needing two other people in order to do his job, while Harry could take care of his responsibilities all by himself. James, in turn, teased Harry about being too scared to try any shots on the goal.

James eventually looked out the window to the faintly grey light that presaged dawn, and heaved a great sigh. "Harry, my time here is almost up. Is there anything else you want to know before I leave you?"

"Um, well, I'm worried about that stupid prophecy. It means that Voldemort is going to keep targeting me until one of us is dead. And that means that my friends will be in danger too. I've been thinking about Ginny, and Ron and Hermione, and I really don't want them to die. Wouldn't it be best if they kept far away from me? I'd miss them, and they'd probably be mad at me, but at least they'd be alive." Harry's face showed exactly how little he liked this idea.

James took a moment to marshal his thoughts. "Well, Harry, at first glance, that does seem like a logical thing to do."

Harry's heart fell as he heard his father confirm his deepest fears.

"But it's dead wrong."

Harry's head shot up. "What?"

"It's wrong, Harry. Let's think for a minute. What kind of philosophy does Voldemort teach, love or hate?"

Harry looked at his dad in disgust. "Hate, of course."

"All right, so in order to counter the hate that he spews forth, what kind of philosophy should we be pushing, love or hate?"

"Um, love?" Harry half-asked, half-stated.

"Right. Otherwise, we'd just end up becoming like him. So, if we need to strengthen our love, does that mean pushing your friends away, or drawing them closer? And, if you need further hints, what has the Sorting Hat preached for the last few years?"

"I guess, love and unity. But, won't that make them bigger targets than they are?"

"Harry, in the short run, perhaps. But let's look at what would happen if you succeeded in pushing Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and all the others away from you. I can guarantee that you'll lose. You are only as strong as your support network, and that's how you're going to win. And, if you lose, then your friends will die anyway, as Voldemort hunts down all the people who fought against him. Now, if you draw your friends close, and your Ginny closer still. . ." Harry blushed again, but James just smiled and went on, ". . . then you'll have the power, the ability, to accomplish your goal. You can get rid of Voldemort and have your own life, free of the prophecy, together with your loved ones."

Harry thought hard about this. It certainly felt like a much more enjoyable solution. "I like that idea, Dad, but are you sure? I just want them to be safe."

"Harry, I don't know what more I can say to convince you, but I promise, if you draw your friends in and work on building up the love in your life, you will be much more successful than if you did the opposite. This is something we can see all throughout history; evil people succeed by sowing division, hate, and intolerance, while good people triumph by spreading love and goodwill."

Harry nodded in acceptance. "Okay, Dad. I'll do it; I'll work on showing more love, and I'll try to let Ginny know how I'm feeling towards her."

"That's my boy, I know you can do it. Now, come here and let me give you a hug-I don't have a lot of time left."

Harry curled into his dad's embrace, and held him as tightly as he could, reveling in the feel of a father's love. But as the sun peeked its head over the horizon, his father kissed him on the top of his head, and Harry found himself sitting alone, on his bed.

With the love of his father fresh in his heart, and a few tears at the shortness of their time together, Harry slipped into a peaceful sleep.