Writer: Azure K Mello

Title: A Bond Never Dies

Part: 73?

Words: 555

Warnings: Angst. Non-canon.

Angie, you rock my world, you're name is now, totally, Angie.

James held the boy close to him as they were getting ready to leave. As he was slipping the boy's shoes on Harry lost his balance and , wearing the unfamiliar robes, he fell onto his bum.

"You ok, buddy?" asked James with a slight, gentle laugh.

"I'm not use't to wearin' dresses," Harry said with a shrug, he giggled when his dad tickled him as he picked the boy up.

"James?" said his mother questioningly, "Do you mean to tell me that he's never worn robes before? Not even since you've gotten back?"

Wincing the man turned to his mother and said, "There's been enough upset without trying to drastically change his lifestyle."

"You've been allowing him to run about looking, for all the world, like a muggle?" she asked horrified.

"Yes, and we've been having a great time," James replied in clipped tones. He couldn't understand how his mother could be so kind and accepting and yet still be a huge snob. She had liked Lily, she had been a member of the Order for a while, she had advocated muggle-borns' rights yet she didn't like her grandson being dressed as one. James wanted to scream, wanted to rage, want to say that his son was perfect and would be perfect even if he walked around naked and covered in jelly. He wanted to point out that she had never liked his being a mage but that it had saved his life. He wanted to tell her to get the fuck over her pretensions and see her beautiful grandson as he was. Instead he just sighed and said, "Leave it alone, he's happy dressed as a muggle."

Harry saw the angry lines carved into his father's face and instantly gripped onto the man more firmly. "I can dwess like a wiz'er if it, if it, it'll mades you happy," he said softly with a slight stutter. He didn't want his dad to be angry.

The expression melted from James' face as he turned to his boy, "No, baby," he said softly, "you don't need to change at all."

Looking away Harry was frightened as he said, "I don't liked robes, they're too hawd to move ins."

"I never liked them either. I like a good pair of jeans." James said still trying to smile warmly even though he was so tired and so upset. Today was supposed to be perfect. While his father had been nothing but understanding his mother had been henpecking him about why Harry wasn't in a wizarding daycare programme, why was the boy so thin, why didn't he know more about magic.

All he wanted was to scream at the top of his lungs that she should be thrilled that they were both alive. He wanted to strip and show her all the scars on his body, all of the ones on Harry. He wanted to take her by the shoulders and tell her that it was okay for her to break down, that she was allowed to be emotional, that oppressing it and just acting like an anxious old cow didn't help anyone. He wanted to remind her to worship her grandson and stop nitpicking things. He wanted to remind her what it was to be human. Instead he just looked at her and said, "I'll write soon."