AU! Jily lives.

WRITTEN FOR QLFC, SEASON 9

Prompt:

9. (emotion) anger

Harry glowered at the jar full of sweets standing oh-so-innocently on top of the kitchen counter. He clenched his fists as he listened to his mother warning him against eating the delicious little treats. Well, she didn't call them delicious, but Harry knew how good they were.

He could still remember the way the chocolates had melted on his tongue and how rich and creamy they were. Just thinking about them made his mouth water, but before he could do anything, his mother was striding towards him with a napkin in hand.

She narrowed her eyes at him as she crouched down to wipe his dirty mouth. "Promise me you won't go near the jar again? I don't want you to get sick, that's all. You understand, don't you, Harry?"

Harry didn't understand. Not really. All he could think of was getting to those sweets again, but because his mother was staring at him pointedly, he clenched his jaw and nodded harshly.

"Good. Now, off you go," she said, gently swatting on his bottom.

Harry stormed up the stairs with angry tears in his eyes. He wanted those chocolates! Doesn't Mum love me? If she did, she would've given me the sweeties.

Entering his bedroom, he stomped towards his bed. He was about to fling himself onto the mattress, but his toe caught on the corner of his bedside table and he went down with a loud thud.

Tears streamed down his face as he sat up and cradled his knee to his chest. The wound wasn't as bloody as some of the others he'd received from falling off his father's broom, but the anger directed at his mother mingled with the pain of his little injury. In his rage, he punched the edge of the wooden bed and instantly regretted it. A shrill scream tore at his throat at the agonising pain in his knuckles.

"I hate you!" Harry kicked at the bed and howled in even more pain.

"Woah, what's got into you?"

Harry looked up through teary eyes and found his father standing in the doorway with a confused expression. In his hand, he held a packet of the same chocolates Harry so coveted. The sight just made the four-year-old boy wail even louder, and James was startled at the sound.

"Hey, what's wrong, kiddo?" James walked over and crouched beside Harry.

"Sweets! Mummy's—not—" Harry threw himself into James' arms, who immediately understood what he meant.

"Shh, here, don't tell Mummy I gave them to you," James whispered as he pulled out a bar from the packet. Unwrapping it, he fed it to Harry, whose tears and pain immediately disappeared.

"Okay." He hungrily licked the chocolate off the wrapper.

James simply chuckled as he patted Harry's back, and the boy looked up and gave him a toothy grin—his teeth smeared with the chocolate. James laughed, ruffling Harry's hair. "Better brush your teeth before you leave, or else Mummy will know."

Harry nodded happily, his previous anger forgotten.