A/N: I'm sorry this took so long to come out. I've been battling an unbreakable case of writers block and a worse case of extreme grumpiness. **Grumbles…bloody computer. Deleting my story…Grr…** But, yes contrary to popular belief, I am continuing this story, and further more, contrary to another popular belief, I am an H/Hr shipper, much as it doesn't seem so at the moment. : )
Harry severely disliked father-son chats. He had never actually experienced one, but he had seen enough from watching television programs that they were rather unpleasant and should be avoided at all costs. If he happened to encounter one from some well-meaning fatherly figure, such as, say, Mr. Weasley or Sirius, Harry knew that he would be much better off putting the Avada Kedavera on himself, and hoping it actually worked this time, so he wouldn't have two scars on his head instead of just one.
Harry also had a rather large problem. Well-meaning fatherly-figures aren't nearly as bad as a real fatherly-figure who happened to share your dormitory. Especially if the fatherly figure was only three years older than you are. A two day break from the grueling classes of an auror seemed, at first, wonderful to Harry. After all, the Hogwarts staff did need a few days to set up for regular classes. However, father-son chats, which were to be avoided at all costs, now seemed unavoidable. Especially after the restrictions that Dumbledore put on the said Fatherly Figure…and the Motherly Figure as well. It was not a good day for Harry.
~**~
"The staff is coming tomorrow," said Dumbledore, looking at them over his half moon spectacles. "The students only two days after that. So you must keep out of the staff's way as they set up for their classes. Furthermore, the only people that know about your…shall we say…resurrection," his eyes twinkled over the spectacles at Lily and James, "Are myself, Hagrid, Sirius Remus, and you." He nodded toward where Harry and Hermione were sitting.
"Hagrid, as you know, is quite bad at keeping secrets." Harry and Hermione grinned at each other, recalling experiences of Fluffy, Nicholas Flamel, and various other "top secret" information that they had managed to weasel out of Hagrid.
"So therefore, we thought it would be safer if we put a small memory charm on him, so he doesn't even remember that he picked you up, Harry. It is important that we keep it that way." Harry, about to comment on the unfairness of Hagrid's treatment, shut his mouth, and sat back in his chair.
"I must impose upon all of you the necessity of James and Lily being here a complete secret," said Dumbledore. "No one must know you are here."
~**~
James was bored. Very bored. He couldn't do anything; say anything, in fact he was supposed to spend the entire two days pretending not to exist. Which he voiced aloud to the only other person in the room. Harry. Harry looked startled for a minute.
"Actually, it's not as bad as you think," he said with a shrug. "I had to spend a few days like that…whenever the Dursley's had company. However," he grinned, "One time I did have a house elf come in and smash Aunt Petunia's pudding."
"Yeah, your mum did something like that once," said James, grinning also. "It was right after we got engaged. She was so happy, she went over to her sister's house later that summer, and interrupted her dinner, by appearing in a puff of smoke. The beast that she married fainted. It was great." James was obviously still relishing that moment.
"She was a scary twit, your mum was. Still is, actually. I remember when I first met her…" James trailed off for a bit. Harry looked stricken and wondered whether he should put the Avada Kedavera on himself now, as it was obviously turning into a dreaded Father-son chat. He was already beginning to wince at what he imagined Dad would say about Mum. Fluffy, sickening, nostalgic comments, typical of any "father-son chat"
"When I first met your mum, she came flying at me like something out of my worst nightmare. She had a dungbomb in one hand, her wand in the other, and she was screaming curses at the top of her lungs. I don't even know how she knew them all, because she was, after all, a muggleborn. Sirius, the object she had been trying to curse, was running faster than I had ever seen him run in my life." James laughed, a big booming laugh that filled the room. "Sirius hid behind me and I got cursed instead. I had nose hair growing down to the floor for 6 hours, because we had to go to sorting and the feast before I could head to the infirmary. We hated each other for the longest time afterwards." He grinned again. "Alright, enough of this rubbish. Where's Snape's office? He's here, isn't he?"
"Um, I think so," said Harry rummaging through his trunk. He pulled out a piece of parchment, tapped it with his wand, and mumbled, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good." He squinted at the parchment for a moment, and then said, "He's in the potions dungeon."
"You found the marauders map?" said James, who obviously delighted. "We lost it the day before we graduated. Filtch found it. We thought he threw it away."
"No," said Harry, grinning, "It was under a file marked 'confiscated and highly dangerous.' Fred and George Weasley found it, and gave it to me, because I couldn't get into Hogsmeade. They didn't know it was my own Dad who wrote it."
"Well, as long as it was in the right hands," said James.
"Oh, you would like Fred and George a lot, Dad," said Harry. "You really would."
"I'll have to meet them some day," said James. "Now I have to go find Sirius and Remus, and then we can go find Snape." James and Harry grinned identical evil smiles. Then James left. Harry, now having experienced a Father-son chat, realized that they were highly underrated.
~**~
"Potter!" McGonagall's voice rang through the hallway. I must be losing my touch, thought James, to be caught that quickly after being out of the room for only about five minutes…I wish Sirius were here. And no one can know that I'm alive…James quickly reached for the latch that would change his eye color. James began grasping for straws, trying to think of something plausible. He knew that something happened with Voldemort and Harry last year…I really hope she believes this, thought James. Well, I'm sorry about this detention, Harry, he thought. It probably won't be the last one I get for you, either.
~**~
"Potter, what do you think you are doing here, before school starts?" McGonagall was bewildered to why Harry was here, but was ready to hear him out first. Harry lifted his hands to his eyes, and then turned around.
"I'm sorry professor," said Harry, "Dumbledore allowed me to come here because…" he trailed off, "Well the Dursley's…" he trailed off again. McGonagall felt a quick surge of rage. She knew they shouldn't have left that poor defenseless child at that miserable house. Who knows what they were doing to him?
"So Dumbledore let me come to Hogwarts a few days early, especially after last year…" He shrugged. McGonagall looked at him, sympathy clouding her brain. He should normally get a detention for being in a teacher's way when he was expressly forbidden not to…but the poor child has been through so much…
"Anyway, Professor," said Harry, flashing her a grin, "could I get you anything? Help you with anything? You know, stack books, dust shelves, clean chalkboards…anything for my favourite Professor?"
"No, thank you, Potter," said McGonagall, thrown for a moment. "I'll see you later, I expect." She watched as Harry happily began to walk down the hall, glad to get out of some kind of punishment. He grew taller over the summer, she noticed. And he seems uncannily like his father at that age…
~**~
A/N: Hehe, that was a fun scene to write. Anyway, Thank you
very much for bearing with me. I'll have the next one out shortly.