Memories and Dreams
December 2016
Harry had been quite sure he was alone. Ginny was spending the night at her mother's, wanting to help with the preparations for Christmas, and the children were all in bed. Therefore, he really couldn't be blamed for the mighty jump we gave when he heard a voice. He threw the whiskey glass in his hand to the ground and had his wand out in record time.
"Sorry, sorry", he heard his son James say, "I forgot!"
That was surprising to Harry. All his children knew not to sneak up on him, it was second nature at this point.
"Don't worry about it", he said quickly, repairing the whiskey glass which had, fortunately, been empty at the time. He turned back to his thirteen-year-old son, who looked very pale indeed. "What's wrong?"
James seemed to be having an internal battle over whether to speak or not. In the end, his desire for reassurance from his father seemed to overpower any pride he had. "I... had a nightmare."
Harry raised his eyes. "Oh?"
James nodded. "It just... didn't feel like a normal nightmare. It felt... more real."
Harry moved over on the couch, gestured for his son to sit down next to him, which James did. "You want to tell me about it?"
James seemed a bit embarrassed. "It was only a dream..."
Harry interrupted him. "James, believe me, I know all about dreams that feel real. If it scared you, it's definitely worth it to talk about it."
James took a deep breath. "Alright. Well, it was me, and... and Lily. But it was different, we were... older. And Lily looked different. Her hair was darker. And her eyes... she had Al's eyes. The only reason I knew it was Lily was because it was a dream. And when it started, we were sitting in some house eating dinner with... with a baby. A baby that looked just like Al did when he was young."
Harry tried very hard not to react. Surely, this couldn't be what he thought it was...
"We had a fine time at dinner. That part was alright. But then Lily said she was going to go brush her teeth before bed time, and could I take the baby into the other room for a moment, and we could clear the dinner dishes afterwards. And so I took the baby into the other room and played with him until Lily came back to take him upstairs, and then... and then..."
James broke off, seemingly unable to continue. Harry put a hand over his son's squeezed it once. He knew where this dream was going, alright.
"Someone came", Janes finally continued. "And I... I don't know who it is, but in my dream, I yelled at Lily to run, because I could already tell that someone put up wards so she couldn't dissapparate, but I left my wand in the living room, Dad, I didn't have my wand, and all I remember thinking was that he was going to kill me but I was much more worried that he was going to kill Lily and the baby. And then... there was a lot of green light and... and I died. Woke up, I mean. I... I..."
And then his son was really crying, and even though under normal circumstances James would surely protest that he was too big to be hugged, Harry took him into his arms and held him tight. Harry wasn't sure how much time he and his son sat there, both shaking, until James finally pulled away.
"Thanks, Dad", said James, his cheeks flushing slightly.
"Of course, James."
James smiling lightly, then turned back to his father. "My dream... it was real, wasn't it?"
Harry startled a bit. "What makes you say that?"
"We learned about it in... in Divination. About how sometimes you... see memories. Mostly from relatives. That wasn't my Lily in the dream, was it?"
Harry shook his head. No point beating around the bush, then. "No. It wasn't. That was... that was your Gran. And the memory was... was your Granddad's, I suppose."
"Then..." James whispered, "The baby was you?"
Harry nodded. "Yes", he said, and somewhere, somehow, he was aware that he was whispering, too. He wanted to ask more questions. He'd seen the scene, of course, but in memories, or through Voldemort's head. He wanted to know more, hear more thoughts from his father's head...
But then he looked back over to James, found that the boy was still shaking, and he knew... he couldn't ask. His son was his first priority, always.
"Come here, then", he said gently, and pulled his son back into his side. How terrible the memory must have been, his eldest son hadn't allowed him to hug him in nearly a year.
"Dad?" he heard James whisper, "Thanks."
"Of course", said Harry, "I love you very much, James."
And with that, the two broke apart. Daylight was just starting to stream through the windows, but it was the holidays, of course, James could sleep through the morning.
"You want some hot chocolate?" Harry asked tentatively. James gave a shaky smile.
"Thanks, Dad."
"Anytime, son."
