The townsfolk remembered Henry Thomas Potter as a good-natured man who constantly roamed around the village with his polished maroon walking stick. He would rove early in the morning to catch up with some village news that he hasn't heard yet from his loyal caretaker, Mr. Mosby. In some occasions his little wife would join him and they would have brunch in the local bakery.
The villagers were fond of the Potters, although the family was rarely in their beautiful ivory mansion. Mr. Potter's father was a successful tradesman and losing his mother at a very young age meant he often went to his father's trips. It wasn't a surprise that he become a tradesman like his father after he left Hogwarts. He also married quite early, almost right after he left school, to his childhood sweetheart. Mrs. Potter was quite beautiful with her thick raven hair and blue eyes. She got pregnant in their second year of marriage but miscarried. The Healers told the Potters that she was unlikely to conceive ever again but then they were proven wrong. But that was several years after.
They spent a lot of time abroad. Mrs. Potter worked in the Ministry's Foreign Affairs Office so it was easy to synergize with her husband. When the couple comes back home for the Christmas holidays, as always they would host the traditional town party. There were gifts for everyone and games for all ages.
A time arrived when they were in town Mrs. Potter fell sick. She had fainting spells and couldn't hold down her breakfast. There was talk in the village that she was dying but "Cadswallop!" Mr. Mosby would say. She was halfway her fifth decade on earth, it was much too early for her to leave. When Mr. Potter, almost crazy with worry, finally decided to bring his little wife to St. Mungo's what they found out was staggeringly unbelievable it could only be described as a miracle. Mrs. Potter was pregnant.
They named him James because there wasn't a James Potter in the family yet. It was hard carrying him at Mrs. Potter's age but it was harder bringing him up. James was the apple of his parents' eyes. He was doted upon and spoiled rotten. He was a bright boy as praised by his tutors. He was also very naughty and loved to play pranks on his nanny or Mr. Mosby. James would often drive his mother insane but his father just chuckles and ruffles his hair. Mrs. Potter left her job to keep an eye on James and insisted her husband should take fewer trips outside the country. Mr. Potter quietly conceded but that didn't stop the family from travelling around the world from time to time. The Potters were a perfect family.
"Hello? Mr. Mosby? Are you there?" Harry has been approximately knocking the small cottage's door for about five minutes.
From the opposite side came a shuffling sound and an old dark skinned man with white military cropped hair opened the old wooden door. He was taller than Harry and was dressed rather shabbily.
"James?" The man peered through his big rectangular glasses. "James Potter?!"
"No, sir. Er – it's me… Harry. Harry Potter."
"Oh, yes! Yes, yes! Goodness, you look very much like your father."
"I've heard." Harry grinned.
"Well, come in, dear boy. I'm sorry. I didn't expect you this early. I could have gotten some goods from the village."
"That's okay, Mr. Mosby," Harry reassured the old man.
"I guess you want to see the place right away, hm? Yes, quite understandable. Well, let me just fetch the keys and we can head right away."
Harry was felt a bit nervous but mostly excited. He couldn't wait to see the place his dad grew up in. He had a lot of questions for Mr. Mosby. The caretaker's family was a native in the village. Half of the generation of the Mosby family looked after the Potter Mansion. This Mr. Mosby had been the Potters' caretaker since even before his father was born.
"Okay, I'm ready now, lad. You ready?"
"I think so."
"You don't have to worry about anything. The place is quite beautiful and highly maintained. Good old Mrs. Potter would rise from her grave to scold me for not taking care of her roses or cleaning off the dust."
From the cottage at the bottom of the Potters' the two men slowly walked through some greenery until a sight of an ivory-bricked estate came into view. Its exterior was half covered with thick green ivy. There were flowers everywhere in every kind that seemed to survive even with the cold weather. Red roses sat on the windowsill.
"Some impressive gardening magic your grandma taught me," Mr. Mosby said pointing at the flowers.
It looked like a sight that came out from a fairytale book. It was beautiful.
"Welcome home, Mr. Potter." Harry couldn't help but feel teary eyed. It felt like he had a chance of finally having a real home.
It was very much like an old noble Englishman's house but had personal touches of the family-centered Potters. There were pictures of people in every room Mr. Mosby led him in. The old caretaker jogged his memory to recall the people from the photos. Harry also saw that Harry's dad, in every year of his life, occupied most of the frames.
Mr. Mosby led him into the study. On the wall behind the massive desk was tall portrait of an elderly couple. The tall thin man had gray hair and a shadow of a beard and mustache that covered half of his face. His eyes were a piercing shade of hazel and he had a burgundy colored walking stick with him. Beside him was an elderly woman who was quite petite. She barely reached the man's shoulders. Her black hair was peppered with some gray strands held in a bun but her clear blue eyes looked quite youthful. At the bottom of the painting a metal plate read: Mr. Henry and Alessandra Potter.
"Who is this, Mosby?" The woman asked.
"This is your grandson, Mrs. Potter. Harry Potter. James's son, remember?" Mr. Mosby said
"Oh my goodness! Henry, Harry's here! Look it's our grandson!" She exclaimed to the pleasantly surprised looking man.
"Harry? Is that really you?"
"Uhmmm… Hello," Harry started to say, not quite sure what to say next.
"The savior of the magical world! It's good to finally meet you. You did very well, my boy. The whole Potter line is so proud!" Henry Potter said, earning a nod from his grandparents
"Well, I guess introductions are not necessary. Let me fix you some tea, my boy," Mr. Mosby said giving the Potters a small salute and left the room.
"I'm happy we finally met too," Harry said grinning. "But haven't we met before?"
"I'm afraid not. I only got to see James married and that was it. Your Grandma here did though, didn't you, love?"
"Yes! But you were very tiny then and I always said you would look like James. I was right, of course!"
"No, I think he looks more like me, love."
"Henry, James takes after you."
"Ahh, nonsense! We're all Potters. So tell me, my boy, what have you been up to?"
"I went back to Hogwarts to finish my last year," Harry said.
"Ahh, yes. You are a Gryffindor, right? Well done! All the Potters before me were Gryffindors. So tell me, Harry, any plans after Hogwarts?"
"Oh, Henry! Please don't get started with trade," Mrs. Potter chided.
"You don't even know what I was going to say!"
"Uh, trade?" Harry asked confused.
"The Potters wealth mainly flourished because of trade," Mrs. Potter explained. "Your ancestors were known for buying and selling almost anything."
"But I mostly like peddling ancient stuff. Like wine and jewelry. I remember selling a tombstone to an Indonesian politician once. I wonder what he did with that."
"Yes, I have quite a collection of gems because of Henry," The black-haired woman recalled fondly. "So, Harry darling, your plans after Hogwarts?"
"Oh yeah, I'm thought of becoming an Auror," Harry replied sheepishly.
"An Auror! Oh my goodness what an excellent choice! It's been a while since a Potter wanted to become an Auror. James fancied to become one but it was hard on those times when that dark wizard was about. The Ministry was nuts as ever!" Mr. Potter said.
"But that's over now. But yes, an Auror indeed is just something. Is there nothing else? No girl?" Mrs. Potter's eyes twinkled knowingly.
Harry could feel himself turning red. "There is."
"From the looks of you, dear boy, I gather that she's someone very special."
"She is… very special."
"Hm, did you know the Potters tend to marry quite early?" Mr. Potter said.
"Henry!"
"I'm just stating a fact, love. Not suggesting anything."
"Hmmph! So, Harry, care to share about her to us? Do we know her family? Is she a Muggle-born? A Muggle perhaps? We know you've been raised as one for most of you life. But do know even though we are purebloods we don't discriminate," Mrs. Potter assured.
"Yes! Case and point you own mother. Lily was just lovely. Perfect fit for James," Mr. Potter said.
"She's actually a pureblood. Her name's Ginny. She's the youngest daughter of Arthur and Molly Weasley." Harry said rather dotingly.
"Ah the Weasleys! Quite a lovely family. As I'm sure you know by now they're one of the few who aren't the snobs in the pureblood line. And another girl, huh? The last Weasley woman I know was Muriel. Is she still alive?" Mr. Potter said frankly.
"Yes she is." Harry said laughing a little.
"Well, that woman is a tough one. So tell us more about you, dear boy. We very much like to know more about our famous grandson!" Mrs. Potter said.
The rest of the day was spent with talking to his grandparents. When Mr. Mosby came in with some cakes and tea he joined in the conversation, supplying Harry with more stories about the Potters. It was quite refreshing for Harry to talk so openly to someone he just met. But talking to his grandparents felt more like catching up with an old pal he hasn't seen for ages. Harry blabbered away about the Dursleys, of Ron and Hermione, his adventures in Hogwarts like the Triwizard Tournament, and even the war. He told them everything. And in return he heard the travelling stories of his grandparents and about his parents and their friends. The last part of the tour in the huge house was his father's room which was very reminiscent of Sirius's back in Grimmauld Place only there weren't any half naked Muggle girl posters.
The room was quite large with its adjoining walk-in closet and marble bathroom. The walls were covered with Gryffindor colors. There were banners strewn on the high ceiling. There were tomes and books and piles of comic books piled rather haphazardly on the shelves. His dad's old broom was even there and his Quidditch robes. There were more pictures around the room. On James bedside table were the pictures of the Marauders and of a teenager Lily. The room also had two beds; one for James and another for Sirius for that time he ran away form home.
"There was no keeping apart James and Sirius even though this house can provide lodging for half of the village," Mr. Mosby explained.
After looking around every corner of his dad's room, Harry took some few items with him. There was his the picture of the Marauders and his mother and a box full of letters. He went down back to the study to bid his grandparents goodbye.
"Oh before you leave, dear. There's something I want you to have," Mrs. Potter said with a bright smile. "Well, it's actually for your girl."
Harry took a quick trip to his grandparents' bedchambers and went back down.
"I can't thank you enough, grandma. She'll love this," Harry said happily after getting the piece Mrs. Potter told him to fetch.
"Well, it is Christmas after all. And don't forget to stop by if you have the time, dear."
"Will do. Thanks so much for today."
"You have fun now, Harry!"
"Will do, granddad."
Mr. Mosby led him out and they made their way back to the caretaker's cottage. Harry promised him a long delayed raise that the old man gratefully accepted. He even asked if he would want to come with him to celebrate Christmas.
"You need not worry about me, boy. The villagers here are practically my family. Now, go on now before it gets too dark." Mr. Mosby gave him a small pat on the back before Harry apparated to the streets of London.
AN: Dedicated to my grandpa. Have fun traveling around heaven, granddad 3 || I hope you guys enjoyed this one! This was a challenging piece but I think I did alright. Let me know what you think! And yes, thank you so much for the support and reading my work. Your reviews, likes, and follows inspire me every time. Thanks! ~ E