Are You Coming
Chapter 5
It was about ten o'clock when Harry woke from the deep, comfortable sleep he'd had. It was the best he'd slept since Scott and his mum had returned from the ball where they'd seen his dad for the first time. Since then he'd been worried that Scott would take out some of his anger about the identity of his father, out on Harry. Scott did scare Harry, but his mum loved him and he wouldn't tell her how scared of Scott he was. He wanted to be a brave, strong man like Scott, one that his mum would really love. One that could talk to her however he wished without ever fearing her anger. One that could protect her from terrible things.
He slid out of the duvets and stepped on the cool floor, remembering the reason for his happiness. He'd talked properly to his dad the previous evening. James had been really nice to him, talking softly to him, rather than shouting and scolding.
He rushed to the door, not caring that it was cold in the airy corridor but just wanting to find his father. The first place he tried was his father's office, but it was empty. Then he went to the kitchen. That was empty too. He returned to the lounge, where he'd sat with James last night. It was also empty. Where was his father?
He realised that his dad might still be asleep. He didn't want James to waste the whole day. Grandma Evans said that getting up late wasted hours in the day. Hours that he could be doing things with his father.
But there were so many rooms here, how would he ever find James' room?
He'd have to look in each individual room.
He walked back up the stairs and started close to James' office. He went left at the office and tried the first door after that. It was a room with a long table and chairs. The sort that men in suits held meetings in on the television, Harry considered.
He sighed, closing the door behind him once again. He wondered how his father managed living in such a huge house. Didn't he ever get lost? Harry thought he'd get lost if he lived here.
He opened the next door along to be met with a big white room. It was clean, plain and well equipped. In the centre of the room was a large bed with navy blue bed-sheets. In the bed, lay James Potter. Fast asleep.
Harry rushed over to the bed and crawled onto it.
"Dad!" He called. "Dad?"
The figure stirred slightly, but didn't wake. Harry watched him carefully, waiting for any change in his condition.
James didn't stir.
"Dad, Dad!" Harry tried again. "Wake up!"
He bounced on the bed, eager for his father to start their day together. Again, there was no reply.
----------------------------
He knew waking up was a bad idea. He didn't know how he'd thought this while he was asleep or even what had woken him, but he'd known it. He'd also known he shouldn't have gone drinking with Sirius the previous evening. He'd never get any work done now. Just a short nap would get rid of the hangover would help him to feel better.
He turned over to return to sleep but whatever or whoever had woken him was very persistent.
"Dad, Dad! Wake up!" the voice insisted.
James felt the bed sink next to him and the figure started bouncing energetically on the soft mattress. James growled slightly under his breath. It sounded deafening to his ears in his state of hangover, but couldn't have been that loud as the awakener paid no attention.
He shoved clumsily in the direction of the movement, without success. He was too tired to stretch out far enough to reach the person.
"Dad, c'mon, you have to get up!" the voice tried once again. "Please!"
James growled a second time and swore slightly.
"Shut up!" he snapped and immediately regretted making a loud sound. His head pounded again. "I'm trying to sleep!"
"But it's morning." The awakener sounded puzzled now.
James turned to squint at the person. Squint because the light hurt his eyes and squint because his glasses were on the bedside table. The figure had a mop of messy hair.
"Go away!" he snapped.
The boy looked at him solemnly, "Dad?"
"Will you leave me alone, you stupid kid?" James snapped, his squint changing to a glare. "As I said, I'm trying to sleep!"
James rolled over to the other side of the bed, pulling one of the many pillows over his head and closing his eyes tightly.
Harry crawled forward over the length of the bed and lifted the corner of the pillow to peek at his father's face. He gently touched a small hand to the man's burning skin. James scowled at the freezing touch of the small child and shoved him away. Harry narrowly avoided being flung on the floor and landed at the edge of the king-size. If the bed had been any smaller he'd have been badly hurt.
"Ow," Harry said quietly. "Dad, are you okay?"
"No!" James snarled. "Just go away!"
Harry's eyes focused on James' bedside table. The wooden cabinet had a pair of round glasses, much like his own, resting on the smooth surface, a few quills and a book about work. On top of the book but under James' glasses, was the picture of three deer that Harry had drawn the previous evening.
Harry lent over slowly, his fingers reaching for his work, the proof that everything had been fine last night.
Why was his dad so angry this morning? What had Harry done wrong?
Harry couldn't help the small pout on his lips as he continued to lean over his father's dosing figure. He'd thought everything would be fine once he found his father, he'd be so happy to see him, that he'd wanted to meet him just as much as Harry had (on some small level, even though he hadn't know he'd existed). This was something Harry had wanted for so long. But why wasn't James the perfect father Harry had always imagined?
Harry lost his balance slightly, just as his fingers closed around the image. He toppled onto his father, his small fist banging into James' sore head.
James hissed in pain and turned over quickly to look at Harry. He was livid. Whilst glaring at Harry, he grabbed the image out of his son's hands.
"GO!" he shouted.
Harry didn't realise that his father was after the picture early enough and he watched in horror as his artwork ripped between their hands.
He was frozen in shock for a few minutes; a then proceeded to snatch the two ripped halves out of James' fingers. He threw himself off the bed, shakily getting to his feet and ran as quickly as he could into the hallway.
He could hear his father's heavy breathing as he shut the door, loudly. Hot tears ran down his cheeks as he looked at where the image had split. To one side of the fawn, leaving doe and fawn without the stag.
The tears came faster, was this it? Was Harry never to have the relationship with his father he so desperately wanted? He so desperately needed?
He'd always imagined his parents meeting again and his dad being ecstatic to meet him. And his mum would leave Scott and marry his dad. Like it was meant to be.
Why wasn't that happening now?
He ran down the stairs and headed towards the front door. Anywhere to get away from the crushing rejection of his father. His mum had always said he shouldn't leave home without telling someone, without someone with him… but his mum wasn't here and he didn't think James would care.
He was almost at the door, when the door opened from the other side. It shot open with an energetic laugh from one man. The man beside him groaned slightly.
"Padfoot, James will kill you if you break his house!" the groaning man exclaimed.
"Moony, I think Prongs will kill me for convincing him to come out drinking last night," the first man chuckled. This one had dark hair, which curled slightly. His hair was slightly longer than James' and his face was extremely handsome. His eyes were dark, but joyful and kind.
The other man was thinner, with pale hair. He looked tired and sensible but very friendly. He turned inquisitive eyes to stare at Harry.
The first of the two men turned to look at Harry also. He carefully regarded him for a few minutes, before exclaiming, "look, Moony, he's just like a green-eyed Prongs."
"He does appear very similar to James," the man called Moony agreed uncertainly.
Harry wanted to answer them, to tell them that James was his father but he was too sad.
"An upset mini-Prongs," his friend answered.
Moony bent to Harry's level, placing a hand on his shoulder. A small whimper escaped Harry's lips as he looked into those kind eyes.
"What's wrong?" he asked carefully.
Harry felt he could trust the men.
"My dad hates me…" he cried, amazed how easily he could say the words that were the truth. "He made me leave and then he ruined my present…" Harry said, showing them the picture.
The first man stroked Harry's arm. "We can mend it, right, Moony?" he said proudly.
Moony nodded and pulled his wand out of his robes. He took the picture from Harry and tapped the thin wood lightly against the paper. He gave it back to Harry and Harry couldn't help but grin when he saw the image was once again untouched. He just wished it was so easy to repair the damage in his family.
"We need to talk to our friend," Moony eventually said. He sounded serious. "Why don't you ask Eve to get you some breakfast, she'll be in the kitchen and perhaps we can come back soon."
The other man smiled softly before following Moony up the stairs, towards James' bedroom. Harry knew this because James was the only other person apart from himself and Eve in the house.
He played with the picture, before deciding that Moony was right, breakfast sounded perfect. He walked over to the kitchen, hoping Eve would be semi-nice to him again today.
Hey guys, I'm so sorry this has taken so long! I've had exams, choir courses/singing exams(in the plural) and then a Twilight shift, but my HP has been rekindled by the 6th movie. How did everyone find it? I loved it...
Reviews would be loved, plus any suggestions... thanks for your patience...
love JLF xoxo