Chapter twenty
July 31, 1981
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Harry stared at the smiling faces of his parents. He couldn't believe it - there was his mother, her eyes twinkling with delight. And his father was next to her, looking as if he hadn't a care in the world.
"I think it's time for the birthday boy to have some cake!" His mother rubbed her nose against his nose and laughed.
"Absolutely, and it's time for the birthday boy's father to have some cake, too," his father said, leaning towards his mother.
His mother turned her head to look at his father, their faces very close. "I don't know if you deserve any, considering the number of times today I caught you sticking your finger in the icing for a taste," she gave him a mock serious face and a playful nudge.
"Come on, Lily," his father said, "you know you're the best cook ever. How could I resist?" He laughed and she smiled and then he kissed her.
Harry watched in amazement at the flirtation. He'd never seen anything like this before. Oh, sure, he'd seen romantic movies before on the television, but they always seemed so phony. They weren't like that at all. The way his dad looked at his mum, and they way she looked back at him was sheer perfection. It was something that none of the many pictures in his photo album could communicate. These two people, his mother and father, were completely and totally in love with each other. It was written on their faces.
"Mama!" Harry heard his own babyish voice say.
His mother turned to look him in the eye. "I know, I know…it's time for cake. Here James." Harry could see that he was being passed from his mother to his father. "You hold him while I ready the highchair."
Harry looked up at his father's face as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. It was like looking in a mirror, Harry thought. His mother turned back quickly and said quietly, "Now would be a good time to speak with Sirius." She turned and Harry watched her cross the room and disappear into a crowd of strangers.
"She's right, you know," his father said to him. "Let's go talk to Sirius."
Harry glanced around as his father carried him into another room where Sirius was chatting with a very attractive young witch Harry didn't recognize. "Sirius, I don't mean to interrupt, but…"
"James, I'm not taking any more photographs! The poor boy's going to go blind from the flash," Sirius said.
Harry stared at his godfather. The difference in his appearance was unbelievable. His hair was short and styled with a wind-blown effect. His frame was strong and muscular. His eyes were bright and he had an air about him of pride and confidence. The witch obviously found him very handsome, as she kept eyeing him up and down.
Harry's father laughed. "No, I don't need a photographer. I just need to talk to you for a moment."
Sirius reluctantly bent over and whispered something in the woman's ear, which caused her to blush. She looked up at him coyly and left the room.
"This had better be good," Sirius said sternly. "I've been trying to get her alone all night."
"I know, Sirius, and I'm sorry about that, but this is very important," James continued.
"Is something the matter?" Sirius reached out and ruffled Harry's hair. "Didn't the birthday boy get enough presents?"
Harry heard himself gurgle happily.
"No, I think he got plenty." Harry's father's voice grew quieter. "Sirius, are you familiar with the Fidelius Charm?"
Harry saw puzzlement flash across his godfather's face. "Isn't that the Secret Keeper one?"
"Yes, Dumbledore reminded Lily of it the other day, and we've been doing a good deal of thinking…with all that's going on…"
"But James, I thought that you and Lily had a plan already. That you'd worked out something in case you needed to hide."
"Well, we did. But Lily thinks, and I agree, that this would be much better." There was a slight pause before he continued in a hushed voice, "Lily and I want to know if you would be our Secret Keeper?"
Harry looked at his godfather as he ran his fingers through his thick, black hair. "James…how can I say no?" He took a deep breath. "Of course I will. You know I would do anything to protect you."
"Good," his father said, smiling.
"But I have to wonder if I'm the best choice."
"Of course you are! Lily and I have gone through the list of possibilities. Dumbledore has too much responsibility with the school right now. Remus has his…" his father stammered, looking for the right words, "…lunar difficulties. Peter is just too squirmy. You're the obvious choice."
"That's what I'm afraid of…being obvious."
"No, it will be fine." Before they could continue their conversation, Harry heard his mother's voice calling from the other room. Harry's father looked at him, "Time to blow out the candles! Or in your case, candle, as there is only one this year."
Harry saw himself being carried back into the crowded room where his mother took him and placed him in a highchair. She then picked up a festively decorated cake with one glowing candle stuck right in the middle. All of the witches and wizards chorused, "Happy birthday to you…Happy birthday to you…"
Harry looked at the cake and clapped his hands.
"Happy birthday, dear Harry…Happy birthday to you!"
"Blow out the candle!" His mother instructed, puckering up her mouth, showing Harry what he was supposed to do.
Harry saw the candle snuff out and the room burst into applause. He could just make out phrases here and there. "Oh, how adorable!" "Isn't he sweet!"
His mother served him a nice sized portion of the delicious looking cake. Harry grabbed at the cake with a chubby hand and stuffed a large chunk into his mouth. There was an eruption of laughter and the flash of a camera made Harry blink. He shoved more cake into his mouth, and Harry could tell he was making a fine mess. But he didn't care.
His mother started serving out pieces of the cake to the other guests, Harry caught glimpses of them while still concentrating on his own piece. Harry recognized Remus Lupin, looking very young and not too tattered as he usually was. Harry also thought he saw Arabella Figg helping his mother with the cake, but he wasn't sure. Then a face appeared before him that he couldn't ignore. A round, chubby face, belonging to a short, blond man who squeaked when he spoke.
"Happy birthday, Harry!"
Harry stared. Peter Pettigrew smiled back at him.
"How's the birthday boy?" He tapped a finger on Harry's cake covered nose.
Harry didn't want him here. He didn't like the idea of this man celebrating and enjoying himself with his parents. Harry knew that at this point in time, Peter had already begun his traitorous activities. Harry wanted to shout it out to his parents, "He's a spy! Mum! Dad! Don't trust him! He'll turn you over to Voldemort!" But he couldn't. He was just a baby, and wasn't able to control the situation. He could only watch.
Then, as if he were in control, He heard his own voice give out a loud wail, "MAAAA MAAAAAA!" he cried and his mother rushed over to him, pushing Pettigrew aside. She lifted Harry out of the chair and gave Pettigrew a scolding look.
"I didn't do anything, Lily. He just started crying," Peter muttered apologetically.
"I know," there was something about her tone that told Harry she didn't quite care for Peter. "He probably just needs to be cleaned up."
She carried Harry to a small bathroom around the corner and began wiping at his face with a rag. "Oh, this is pointless," she said, tossing the rag away and pulling gout her wand. With a sudden SNAP, Harry could see that he was clean and wearing new clothes. "All better?" She smiled at him and carried him back into the other room. She paused in the doorway and stared at Pettigrew across the room.
She looked down at Harry and said, almost to herself, "You see it, don't you? That's why you don't like him." Her gaze reverted back across the room. "I see it, too, Harry. It grows more obvious every time I see him. Your father would never believe me about this one." She looked back down at Harry. "I wish you could talk, and then you could help me tell your father what we've seen."
Harry's own voice said, "Mama."
His mother laughed, and Harry gazed in awe of how beautiful she was. "Ok…so you can talk. But I think we need complete sentences to explain this one."
Harry flailed his arms around and laughed happily. "Oh, I love you, Harry!" he heard her say. "I love you so much!" She was holding him very close and kissed the top of his head.
Harry closed his eyes and tried to feel her arms around him. He never wanted this moment to end. He never wanted Daphne to break the connection.
Daphne…
At the sudden thought of her, Harry's mind began racing forward. He felt dizzy as everything went out of focus. He blinked his eyes rapidly as he tried to focus on his mother's face.
But it wasn't Lily Potter's face he now saw in front of him. It was Daphne's, looking pale and tired. "I'm sorry, Harry, I'm so sorry. I couldn't hold on anymore." Her voice was breathless.
Harry took off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes.
"Are you alright?" she asked him.
Harry looked up at her weary face. "I'm fine, but are you alright?"
Daphne nodded. "I'll go to Madam Pomfrey and get a Pepper-Up Potion."
The silence that followed was heavy. Harry could tell that Daphne wanted to talk about what they had seen, but Harry didn't know if he would be able. It was the most wonderful and painful experience, and he didn't know if he could put it into words.
"Daphne…" Harry began, "thank you. Really, I mean it. Thank you so much."
"Don't mention it." She sat still and quiet as Harry stood up to leave. Before he reached the door she added, "Can I just say one thing, Harry?" He turned to look at her. "I've heard a number of times that you look like your father. I didn't realize just how much you resemble him. It was a bit shocking."
"I know, "Harry sighed. "I look like my father except for my eyes."
"Yes, you have your mother's eyes." Her voice trailed off, then she added softly, "She was very beautiful."
"Yes…she was." Harry smiled faintly at Daphne before excusing himself and walking, hands in his pockets, back to the common room.
He replayed the memory in his mind over and over again. He could still hear his parents laughter, still see their smiles. His mother's voice echoed in his head as he thought about what she had said, right at the end. She saw something and thought that Harry had seen it, as well. What did she see? What did she mean?
And then there was the one phrase he would keep in his mind forever. "I love you, Harry." Harry had known that his parents loved him, but he had never heard them say it. In fact, he had never heard anyone say it. Sure, there were people that cared about him, but never in his life had he heard anyone tell him that they loved him…until now.
"Pixy wings," he said to the fat lady.
Still lost in his own thoughts, Harry headed for his bedroom. But before he started up the stairs, a voice brought him back to reality.
"Harry? Is everything ok?"
Harry turned and looked at the pretty red headed girl sitting in front of the fireplace reading. "Ginny," he said, walking over to her, "there's something I'd like to talk to you about."
****Many thanks to my beta reader, Lin-z for all her aid in helping me sound like a Brit! And thanks to all of you who have reviewed. If you haven't reviewed, then you should be responsible and let me know how you like it so far! I don't have much more to go…only 2…maybe 3 chapters. Stay posted!
****Daphne Affigo is an Alphie creation. Harry Potter and all other characters are property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers.
