Chapter Two

James and Ophelia seemed to stare at each other for a few minutes before Ophelia cleared her throat.

"So, James, how can I help?" Ophelia said sitting down and gesturing to the seats by her desk.

"Umm, it's Harry," James says sitting down with Harry on his lap. "He doesn't seem to want to eat."

Ophelia nodded slowly. "He does eat though?"

"Yeah, but not a lot," James told her.

Ophelia tucked a curl of hair behind her ear and leant back on her chair.

"How do you get him to eat and what does he eat?"

"He's 18 months so he eats solids like pasta, bread, sauce and things but recently he's just gone off everything unless he wants it, so for the past two weeks I've just been giving him what he wants to get him to eat," James confessed with a sigh running his hand through his hair.

"Does he like cheese?" Ophelia asked her former year mate.

"What?" James asked incredulously.

"Does Harry like cheese?" Ophelia asked James while rummaging in her bag.

"Yes, he does. Although, I don't see what this has got to do with getting Harry to eat-"

Ophelia pulled out a cheese sandwich.

She broke a small bit off her sandwich. "Harry?" She asked leaning down to the boy's height. She waited until his bright green gaze met her deep brown one before she continued speaking. "Look it's the yummy firebolt," she said making whooshing noises and moving her hand around while Harry watched her, giggling. "And towards the Quidditch posts it goes," Ophelia moved it towards his open mouth and put it in. "Score! 10 points to Harry!" Ophelia said with a smile as Harry chewed contently. Ophelia slowly fed him her sandwich until the whole thing was gone.

"How did you do that?" James asked with astonishment. "I would only be able to get a quarter or halfway through before he craves something sweeter," James explained.

"That's because he'd get bored by then," Ophelia said. "He has a perfectly healthy appetite, you just have to make the concept of eating more appealing to him, especially as he tries more food. The more exciting eating the food you give him is, the less likely he is to want something sweet."

James nodded. "Thank you, I'll try that," James said before clearing his throat. "How are you coping?"

Ophelia sighed. "I'm coping."

"Ophelia, they killed your sister," James said.

"I know. They also killed my friends, one of them being your wife, and I'm sorry for your loss and everyone else's, but unfortunately, we have to move on." Ophelia replied.

"But you haven't," James said. Ophelia met his hazel gaze and faltered slightly before taking a deep breathe and shoving away the memories and emotions that threatened to come to the surface.

"James, I-" Ophelia began.

"Shhhh!" James said rather aggressively

"What!"

"Shhh," James repeated pointing at Ophelia's lap.

Harry, who had been rather bored during the two adult's exchange had, unbeknownst to the two adults, crawled into the new woman's lap and promptly fallen asleep.

Ophelia adjusted Harry, so that he was more comfortable, before turning to James. "Would you like to take him home?" She whispered.

James shook his head. "Let's leave him for a bit. If that's alright with you, of course." James added quickly.

"That's fine," Ophelia said and the room quickly fell quiet.

"How did your family take it?" James asked.

"I'm sorry?"

"You came from a family of Slytherin's. How did they take you being sorted into Hufflepuff?" James asked.

"They were fine about it. They weren't as hardcore as Sirius' parents." Ophelia told James softly. "James,"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry about Lily," Ophelia said earnestly.

"Me too," James whispered.

The room fell quiet once more. It was now that Ophelia truly noticed how tired James was. His bright hazel eyes had dulled a little, his messy black hair lay a little limp and his smile seemed to naturally droop a little.

"Do you want to go and get a coffee or something? I don't mind staying here with Harry, just to give you a bit of time to yourself?" Ophelia asked, readjusting a sleeping Harry in her arms.

"No, I don't want to be a bother-" James began, but Ophelia promptly cut him off.

"You're my last official patient of the day. I may have a few drop-ins but nothing I won't be able to handle. Go. Get yourself something to drink and eat. You need it, James, you look like you haven't slept in weeks." Ophelia told him with a pointed look.

I haven't. James thought to himself as he ran his hand over his face before nodding and getting up. "Would you like anything?" He asked, his hazel eyes meeting Ophelia's brown ones.

Ophelia shook her head, the few loose brown curls that hang around her neck moved along with the movement. "I'm fine, thank you."

With that James nodded and left for the cafe.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

As James walked to the cafe he couldn't help but think about the hurt he'd seen in Ophelia's eyes. No matter how much she insisted wasn't, Ophelia was grieving, even if Ophelia wouldn't let herself consciously do so. Ophelia had lost her sister and three of her closest friends, all in the space of four months, add on top of that her father and brother being given life sentences in Azkaban for being Death Eaters and he could understand her pain. But what James didn't understand was why she was hiding her pain, James hid his around Harry for obvious reasons but James couldn't find a reason for Ophelia to hide hers. So, as he made his way to the St. Mungo's cafe to buy himself a cup of tea and a sandwich as well as get a chocolate chip muffin for Ophelia, regardless of whether she wanted something or not, James vowed to figure out the reason for Ophelia putting up her defences.