A/n: Whoa, I was not expecting so many alerts and faves man. You guys rock.
Warning: Hyphen abuse
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Lily Evans straightened herself out and adopted the feigned indifference she wore whenever someone came by. She often did her best to look bland, in hopes that James would lose interest in her and lure him into the mindset that Harry was just as boring.
No such luck. Harry wouldn't cooperate.
James shuffled into his office, face pale and smiling tightly when he caught sight of her.
Lily was careful to keep her face blank."Welcome James," her voice neutral. He gave a nod and she swung open to give him access to the storage area she guarded.
He was a strange man, always rifling through letters and photo albums. Lily wondered if he had anything else to do.
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Lily heard footsteps for once, instead of the tired shuffle. She resumed the stiff posture she used when she heard the shuffle.
Oh.
She knew this was her son. He held himself proudly and despite his short stature he looked to be a thousand feet tall. It reminded her of how she held herself in Hogwarts, or what her portrait self remembered, in front of the Marauders. Her eyes warmed for a fraction of a second, and then they turned into the passive polite front she adopted.
"Is there something you need?"
And she knew from the disappointed face, that Harry was expecting something so much more fierily.
She knew she was cold. What could you expect from a portrait?
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The Woman in the Painting knew people were irrational. She knew this from her observations of her could-have-been family.
Daniel and Connor always expected Harry to drop everything and indulge them.
Harry expected her to give advice, to let him know the why.
James expected Harry to breathe for him just like the Used-to-Be Lily Evans had.