Chapter 7: Progress
Everyone sitting around the table looked up as Hermione and James walked into the kitchen. Hermione paused briefly just outside the doorway when she noticed everyone's eyes on her and her husband. Feeling self conscious, she reached up and ran her hand over her hair trying to smooth it down. Sirius, who was seated at the far end of the table next to Remus let out a snort. "Like that's going to help."
Hermione's eyes widened as Harry and Ron suddenly found the table very interesting. From across the room she could see the pink in their cheeks. Ginny looked back and forth between Sirius and the couple who had not moved since entering the kitchen.
"What am I missing?" Ginny asked, breaking the awkward silence that had developed. Oh thank Merlin, Hermione thought. If Ginny had any idea what she and James had been up to just minutes ago, she'd never hear the end of it.
"Ask your brothers," James suggested while moving further into the room, "I'm sure they'd love to give you all the details."
James, never one to be ashamed of anything related to sex, especially sex that involved him and his wife, rummaged through the kitchen like he owned the place. Hermione rolled her eyes and moved to the far end of the table, smacking both Sirius and Remus on the backs of their heads.
"What the hell was that for, Kitten?" Sirius asked, rubbing the back of his head.
"I haven't done that in 14 years, I figured you were both due for one." Hermione said absently as she moved over to the other side of the table to drop a kiss on the top of Harry's head and gently brush his hair out of his eyes before taking a seat across from him.
Harry's cheeks flushed, but this time for a different reason. Hermione, even before the events of last night, had always been maternally affectionate towards him. A pat on the shoulder, a hand on the cheek, a hug, ruffling his hair. This time, a warm feeling developed in his chest and worked its way outwards. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling, but it was a foreign one. His aunt Petunia had never been affectionate towards him, even when he was a child. Until last night, when Hermione held him against her chest while he cried, he never realized how much he craved maternal affection.
James, having the same idea as his wife, ruffled Harry's hair as he passed him. In his left hand, he was balancing two bowls and a carton of milk, with a box of cereal tucked under his arm. Harry watched as James, who was basically a stranger to him, placed the bowls in front of Hermione and took a seat next to her, angling his chair towards her.
Harry thought back to the previous night. Seeing James in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place had been a shock. Watching Hermione run into his father's arms had been down right earth shattering. Last night, after his parents had left his room, Harry had taken extra care to look back through the scrapbook that Hagrid had gifted him. In all the pictures, the image of Lily had changed to the image of Hermione. Wild curly hair had replaced the previous smooth red and warm chocolate brown had replaced shining green. Harry spent most of the night looking at the very last page of the scrapbook. It was a picture of the three of them. A ten month old Harry sat on Hermione's lap while James sat at her feet making faces at his son. His faces made both Hermione and Harry burst into giggles. Harry could see the love James had for Hermione. Last night, Harry had thought he'd seen a similar look aimed at him, but James' eyes had been so clouded with pain that Harry couldn't be sure.
James was a little lost on how to interact with his son. Should he just jump in like no time had passed? That might scare the boy. Should he follow Harry's lead? He didn't want Harry to think that he didn't care. Ruffling the boy's hair had been a knee jerk reaction. When he and Hermione had gone into hiding James had gotten into the habit of ruffling Harry's hair every morning before kissing his wife and offering her moral support while she made breakfast. He had lost his cooking privileges sometime around their second week of living together.
"Harry," James cleared his throat and moved his body to face his son, "how'd you sleep?"
Harry's eyes shot up and locked with his father's before giving a little shrug.
The awkward silence that followed was deafening. James held back a sigh as Harry looked everywhere but at him. Hermione reached down and gave his thigh a comforting squeeze. Last night they had both talked about how it would take time. Time. They had time, James thought. He just hoped they had enough of it this time around.
"That's our que." Sirius blurted out as he stood, grabbing Remus' elbow and pulling him up as well. "Ron, you're on Molly watch."
The three rose from the table. Harry made a move to get up and escape the painful awkwardness that he had helped create.
"Not you." Sirius looked pointedly at Harry. Harry slowly lowered himself back into his seat and felt guilt settle in the pit of his stomach when Hermione let a sad sigh escape her mouth. He didn't know how to do this. He didn't know how to look at James and see him as anything other than the man who was supposed to be in love with Lily. The woman he grew up believing was his mother. He knew the truth. He knew that Hermione was his mother. He knew that she was James' wife. He knew these things. So why couldn't he believe it?
"Hey," James leaned back in his chair to catch Sirius' eye before the convict left the room, "you and I need to have a conversation, killer."
Sirius paused right outside the door and made a noise in the back of his throat. "I try to avenge your death and you want to lecture me?" Sirius asked incredulously.
"If you had been successful I wouldn't have to lecture you."
"Ungrateful little sh-,"
Whatever Sirius had to say after that was muffled as Remus roughly pushed him through the kitchen door leaving the Potter family behind.
Harry had decided that the best course of action was to look everywhere but his parents. Hermione's heart broke for her boys. Harry, her baby, looked so lost and confused. She couldn't do anything to help. She wanted to, but deep down she knew that it would just take time. James, for his part, was trying to hide his hurt. And he was doing a pretty good job. Except Hermione knew her husband. The slight lock of his jaw told her that he was trying to hide his real emotions. The glazed look his eyes made her want to cry. His eyes had glazed over like that when his parents died.
"You may have your mother's eyes but your hair, that's all me." James smiled softly at his son as his eyes scanned over the boy's hair. Black fringe hung down and brushed against the rims of Harry's glasses. The rest of his hair was sticking up in all different directions.
Hermione watched as Harry reflexively reached up and ran his hands through his hair, somehow making it worse. She held back a giggle.
"It's getting kinda long, honey." Hermione said softly as if she was talking to a frightened animal that would bolt if she talked too loud. Harry flushed at the term of endearment. "Yours, too."
Her last sentence was directed at James. Having been in hiding right before he died, he hadn't gotten around to getting a haircut and his hair was falling into his eyes, much like his son's. Hermione reached up and ran her fingers through her husband's hair softly. She brushed it off his forehead before moving to the hair at the nape of his neck. James leaned over and gave her a chaste kiss and whispering "don't even think about it," against her lips.
Harry felt his cheeks get warm as he watched the intimate moment between his parents. He felt like an intruder. He spent his whole life wishing for parents, and now that he had them, he had no idea how to act.
Turning back to Harry, James launched into a story about how, after they got married, Hermione had tried to trim his hair. The muggle way. "And of course I agreed because, well, I have no idea why, but I ended up looking like a cross between David Bowie and the guys from Wham."
Harry burst into laughter trying to picture James with such a haircut. Hermione crossed her arms over her chest pretending to look annoyed, but the combination of Harry's laughter and the light in James eyes made it impossible.
"It wasn't that bad." She argued indignantly.
"Yes it was, darling," James responded planting a kiss on her cheek.
"There are worse things," Harry spoke up for the first time, his eyes still sparkling with mirth, "like being expelled."
For a moment Hermione caught a glimpse of the boy that Harry had been before entering the maze. Before watching Cedric die at the hands of the monster who had killed his parents.
James looked between his wife and his son, and instead of the empty feeling that had begun to appear whenever he was reminded of what he had missed, he felt warm. His son was smiling and joking with him and Hermione. He had made his son laugh, James thought bewildered.
"Harry," Hermione started as she gathered up their dishes and moved to put them on the counter behind her son, "your father and I wanted to talk to you about last night."
The sparkle in Harry's eyes disappeared, but his face wasn't as guarded as it had been when she and James had come down for breakfast. This time, when she went to sit down, she sat next to Harry, moving her chair so she was facing him. James sat up straighter and rested his elbows on the table.
"We told you we would take this at your pace," James jumped in. "and that's still the plan. But you need to talk to us."
James paused and looked at Hermione, letting what he said sink in. Harry's brow furrowed at James' words.
"I know how you are, Harry," Hermione explained reaching out and putting her hand on top of his on the table. "You can't shut us out. We know it's going to be hard, but you have to try if you want this to work."
Harry stared intently down at Hermione's hand, which was placed over the top of his. Last night he told them he wanted to try and be a family. Still looking down at Hermione's hand, Harry slowly nodded his head.
"I can do that," He agreed, pausing before he added, "I can try."
James smiled despite himself. From what Hermione had told him about everything their son had been through, he knew that Harry was used to going at things alone. Hermione and Ron were the only people he really let in. Then Sirius, who had been Harry's connection to, well, him. He hoped that in the future, Harry would let him in.
"So, Harry, tell me," James leaned back in his chair sending a wry smile to his son, "any lucky birds vying for your attention?"
Harry's eyes widened. He was too emotionally exhausted from the events of the last 12 hours to realize that James was teasing him. It wasn't until a scoff escaped Hermione's lips that Harry noticed the sparkle in James' eyes.
"I think it's time that we make our way back upstairs," Hermione stood up, "We wouldn't want to push our luck, isn't that right, James."
"Oh, absolutely," James sent her a crooked smile and rose from his seat.
As soon as Harry stood, Hermione pulled him gently into a short but warming hug. He felt her hand reach up and cradle the back of his head. Harry hesitantly wrapped his arms around the middle of her back. When his eyes locked with James', the man sent him a small reassuring smile.
"We'll see you tonight, after the Order meeting," Hermione supplied as she pulled back keeping her hands on the outside of his shoulders.
Harry nodded dumbly. It had hit him quite suddenly that Hermione was his mother. His best friend was his mother. Of course he had been informed of that fact last night, but the reality of that statement was just starting to sink in. He knew James was his father, that he had always known. Having him back, having the opportunity to have a family was a dream come true. The only issue was he wasn't prepared to start from scratch.
As Hermione moved back, James moved forward. He looked just like he had in the graveyard the night Voldemort killed Cedric. Harry had been so relieved when he saw the familiar ghostly figure of his father, he would have burst into tears if he hadn't been so focused on staying alive. Harry jerked forward and threw his arms around James, wanting to prove to himself that his father really was here.
James froze, surprised when Harry sprang forward and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. It only took James half a second to reciprocate the hug. James closed his eyes and relished the feeling of his son in his arms. This was something he never thought he would get to do again when he saw Voldemort's cloaked figure walking towards him before he was hit by green light. James hugged Harry tightly before pulling back and ruffling his hair.
"I'm here," James said. He didn't know if he was saying it to Harry or himself. "I'm not going anywhere."