I Have a Feeling
James's new girlfriend leaves young Harry suspicious. What will he do to prove to his father that his lover is untrustworthy?
Chapter One: Lily's Funeral
(A/n: Lily and James lived (somehow) and then, Lily got cancer and died.)
Everyone stood in silence as the casket was lowered into the hole. Harry looked up at his father. He tugged on the bottom of his father's pants, and James looked down. James looked at him solemnly, and Harry raised his arms over his head. "Come here, Harry," he said, picking up the small child. Harry lay in his father's arms for the next few minutes, before Harry jumped out and got the flowers that were lying on a nearby bench. He picked them up and walked over to the hole. "Bye, Mummy," he whispered before tossing them in. James smiled sadly and picked Harry up and walked back to the sidewalk. After he made sure nobody was watching, James apparated back to the house that he, Harry, and Lily all used to share, before...
Flashback
"Mr. Potter, we have your wife in the hospital right now. She was picked up immediately from her job site while you were taking care of your son, but she wants you to come see her now," said a man from St. Mungo's through the fireplace. James nodded. "What's wrong?" he asked. The man shook his head. "We'll have to tell you when you get here."
James took Harry and apparated to St. Mungo's. He ran to a man who was standing by the front door. "Mr. Potter?" the man asked. James nodded. The man took James up a few flights of stairs and to a final room. James opened the door. "Mind watching him for a second?" James asked, indicating Harry. The Healer nodded. He took Harry next to the room.
As James approached the bed, he found Lily smiling softly. "Lily, what happened?" he asked. "You said you'd be fine today, that I could take care of Harry for once." Lily sighed.
"James," she gasped. "I have cancer. I don't have very long. I want to see Harry before..." she stopped herself from saying the inevitable. James called Harry in.
Harry trotted into the room. He bounced up onto the bed. "Hi, Mummy!" he said happily. Lily smiled. "Hi, Harry," she said. "How're you doing?" Harry rolled his head around.
"Fine..." he said. "How're you doing?" Lily held back tears that were threatening to fall.
"I'm... doing fine...I guess," she said quietly. Harry frowned.
"Why do you guess?" he asked sadly.
"Harry, I don't have very long to live," Lily whispered. Harry's expression was unreadable. His bottom lip began quivering and tears welled up in his green eyes. For being seven years old, he had a lot of understanding and a lot of emotion. "Don't cry, Harry," Lily said. "I'll always be with you." She pulled her young son up to her. "I have to go get water," James said. He left Lily and Harry in the room alone.
Harry lay with his mother for almost an hour. "Goodbye, Harry," Lily whispered. Harry said nothing, but knew he would say it when it was truly goodbye. He sniffed and got off the bed. He left the room and went to meet his father. Harry didn't have to say anything; the story was readable in his expression. James sighed and took his son's hand. Then they went back to their home.
End Flashback
So, now, Harry and James lived alone. James tried to take care of his son the best he could, but usually took him to the Burrow to be left with his other Order member, Molly. She had other children, but was a great mother. Harry's best friend, Ron Weasley, lived with Molly, who was his mother. (duh).
Harry was usually left alone if Ron was ill. Molly didn't do much to make sure that Ron got better quickly; she believed it was better if he got well on his own.
When Ron fell ill with a high temperature and a bad cough, Harry was left alone. He didn't like to play with Fred and George, because they always tortured him with something. He didn't like to play with Ginny, because she wanted to have tea parties, and Harry had no time for a tea party. Percy was always too serious, and there was never anyone to play with. So, he sat in the kitchen and helped Molly with things like getting spoons. Molly could've used magic, but she knew Harry was having a bad time, so she felt as though it helped him that he knew he could help.
Later on in the day, the front door opened. Harry peered around the corner to see who was coming. "Hi, Padfoot," Harry muttered sadly. Sirius looked down at the young boy sympathetically. "Hey, Harry. How're you holding up?" he asked. Harry shrugged.
"Alright, I guess," he answered. "Dad's never home, and when he comes to get me, he's always tired and he doesn't even want to talk to me, and sometimes he yells." Sirius looked at Harry calmly before picking him up. "Why does he yell at you?" Sirius asked. Harry shook his head. "Sometimes, he says I breathe too loud or when I cough, or sometimes, I wish that it wasn't my mum that died." Sirius was shocked.
"Why do you say that, Harry?" he urged. Harry sighed.
"Because he said the same thing about me the other night," he whispered. Molly dropped the glass she was holding. Sirius sat in horror. "What did he say something like that for?" he gasped. Harry coughed.
"Because I couldn't go to sleep. Dad said, 'Well, maybe if it hadn't been your mother who died, I could get some sleep around here. You don't help me any, anyway.' It's not like I haven't tried to keep my room clean, but Dad doesn't even care. He only cares about himself. Ever since mum died..." he paused. "He's been a jerk."
Sirius shook his head sadly. "Molly, would you make sure Harry gets taken care of properly? I need to go have a word with James." Molly picked up Harry and hugged him. She set him back down near the table. Fred and George came out from behind the corner of the kitchen. "Hi, Harry," they said coolly. "Want to come play in our room? We promise we won't experiment on you." Molly looked at her twins seriously. "Do anything bad to this poor child and I'll hex you into next year!" she said. The twins nodded simply and Harry followed them up to their room.
6767676767676767676767676767676767676767676767676767676767676767676767676767
"James!" Sirius called. "James! Get your ass out here!" James trudged out of the kitchen. "What do you want, Padfoot?" he asked. Sirius's face grew red.
"What the hell do you think I want? How's Harry been lately?" he asked angrily. James sighed.
"Fine, I think..." he said.
"YOU THINK??? MAN, I DIDN'T KNOW YOU COULD THINK!"
"Why are you getting so pissed off?"
"Because you don't even spend time with him anymore!"
"I have to work!"
"My god damn ass you do!"
"I do!"
"How much do you talk with him?"
"All the time!"
"How is that possible if he's ALWAYS at Molly's?"
"I talk to him when he comes home!"
"And how much of that is actually civilized conversation?"
"All of it!"
"So I suppose you yelling at him and saying that you wish he'd have been the one who died is really civilized, right?"
"I never said that."
"I
guess you don't really know what you say."
"I never said
that."
"You may not have noticed it, but you did! And until you can come to Molly's without being so damn tired, you don't get him back!" And with that, Sirius left.
