James Potter loved his sons. They were the only reminder he had of his lost wife. They were his beloved children. But he loved them in different ways. Daniel, lauded as the Boy-who-lived since his first birthday, was easy for James to get along with. Daniel, in most ways (personality, Quidditch skills, talent) was his father's son.
James' relationship with Harry, however, was more complex. It wasn't an easy love he had for Harry. Things between them were forever unsteady. Though Harry strongly resembled James in appearance (as opposed to James who had brilliant blue eyes and red hair) the similarity stopped there.
On Daniel's and Harry's ninth birthday they had all gone to Diagon Alley. The Potters had always had many friends, but never so many as now, after the Dark lord's defeat. Thus, the party at Fortescue's Icecream Parlour was overflowing with adults and children, and the present table was stacked high.
They'd unwrapped the presents. Daniel seemed to get more than Harry – not surprising as people did forget that the Boy-Who-Lived had a brother. Harry tried not to show how forgotten about he felt but it was difficult. Daniel was showered with expensive, exciting gifts, whereas Harry's seemed to be afterthoughts: a Gobbling Terrapin with a blackberry shell – the flavour no one liked - , one of the wig charms that had gone out of fashion last year, an outdated Quaffle which had the old cone-shape… things like that.
Just as Harry was thinking this, Daniel pulled apart the wrapping on his latest present and shrieked with joy – it was a Nimbus 99, the best broom on the market right now. Daniel, who loved flying, got on the broom at once and took off. He soared through the air, doing loop-to-loops and dives, lapping up the 'oohs' and 'aahs' of the sympathetic crowd.
James eventually told him to get down, but not before Daniel had stood on his broom in mid-air and done a smug little bow. Harry couldn't stand it. When Daniel returned to his present-unwrapping (harry had finished his meagre pile some time ago) he chose a glossy green package.
He undid the white ribbon, and eased open the lid of the box, plunging his hand in to see what he had received. No sooner had he done so than he jerked back in fear. Harry came forward, wondering what ailed his brother.
In a second the problem was obvious. A cobra, thicker than a man's arm, reared up out of the box. It stared at Daniel, who stared back, mere inches from its face, and petrified. Harry felt his stomach clench. The snake looked like it was going to strike. He didn't get on with his brother but he had to do something.
He couldn't just sit back and wait. He sprang towards his brother, pushing him out of the way. But he tripped over and found himself on the ground, within striking range of the snake. No one moved. No one even said anything. They didn't want to cause the snake to bite.
'Please don't bite me,' Harry mumbled. 'Please.'
He was shocked when the snake hissed, a sound that was almost a sigh, and said, 'Don't worry. I never intended to. Though I would like to sink my fangs into the one who disturbed me.'
It examined him curiously an instant, flicked its tail, then settled back into the box.
Harry got up from the ground, shaking a little but otherwise fine. The crowd of people were still silent. Wary, they were staring at him. He wondered what the problem was. The party broke up, the people drifted away, muttering darkly, and James, helped by his friends Sirius and Remus, started packing up the presents.
'What's wrong?' Harry asked his father.
'That snake – it was a Teneber Viper. Its poison is deadly, and impervious to magical treatment, just as its hide is to curses. Daniel could have been killed. Someone wanted him to be killed.'
Daniel was currently being treated for shock by Remus' niece Joan, a Mediwitch in training. Harry watched him for a second, then said, 'I don't think the snake was that bad. If he hadn't woken it, maybe…'
James looked at Harry tensely.
'Dad,' Harry said. 'I could understand the snake.'
Harry hadn't known what his father's reaction would be. Surprise, disbelief, maybe even pleasure – Harry displaying some talent for once, some special trick, instead of the usual Daniel. His father might be pleased.
But James simply rubbed his forehead furiously with his hands and groaned.
'Harry, I know you could understand the snake. I know – and soon every flipping wizard and witch in Britain will know. You spoke to it – you hissed at it.'
'No I didn't.'
'Yes you did.' He groaned again. 'Harry, you're a Parselmouth, you speak to snakes.'
Harry began to feel defensive.
'So? What's wrong with that?'
'Harry, being a Parselmouth is a trait of a dark wizard. Voldemort was a Parselmouth. How does it look if the brother of the Boy-who-lived is a Parselmouth? It's – it's not good. In future, try not to talk to snakes, or even go near them. It wouldn't do to remind people. It makes them – they won't trust you. They'll be suspicious.'
'Great. I don't even know when I'm doing it and I'll be blamed for it.'
James patted him on the back apologetically.
'I'm sure you're all right at heart, Harry.'
Harry pulled away, annoyed.
'What is it? Do you think I'm some sort of dark wizard dad?'
'Harry, please.'
Harry shrugged. He did not speak to his father again that day.
In fact James was even more distressed about the incident than he let on to his son. He was horrified that Harry could be – could be a Parselmouth.
'How can I look him in the eyes?' he moaned to Sirius that evening.
Sirius, who had matured somewhat since Lily's death, shook his head.
'You're not being reasonable, James. He can't help it. And it doesn't mean he's bad. It's just an outward thing. He's good – you're forgetting that he saved Daniel.'
'Yeah, you're right,' said James. 'I am being silly.'
'Wait and see, he'll be Sorted into Gryffindor.'
'Of course he will,' James said, reassuring himself.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 5 years ago
'Potter, Daniel.'
There was hush in the Great Hall as the boy settled on the stool, and put the tattered Sorting Hat over his dark red hair.
'Gryffindor!' it shouted.
Cheering followed.
Once the cheering had abated sufficiently, McGonagall read the next name:
'Potter, Harry.'
The dark-haired boy took the hat, trying to hide his nerves. He was on the seat a very long time. The students grew bored and some commenced quietly chatting to each other.
'Slytherin!' the Hat said happily and Harry Potter, his face a mix of hope, dread and shock, made his way over to the Slytherin table.
There was fitting astonishment – he was the brother of the Boy-who-lived, after all, and a member of the Potter family – but he was soon forgotten, and the students turned their attention to the rest of the Sorting Ceremony.
James Potter did not forget though. From that day on, a rift formed between him and Harry. Sometimes James wondered if he could even have a son like that – but Harry looked too much like him to deny it.