Hey Guys!
So I had some free time after school today, so I decided that after such a long period of silence, y'all deserved another chapter ASAP.
So here you go, enjoy all you faithful followers.
DISCLAIMER: It's still not mine, guys.
After the Potter men finished their breakfast, Harry bolted up the stairs to get dressed for his shopping trip with his father.
Now, usually, Harry wasn't very fond of shopping, but the prospect of going out into the city with his father excited him. Harry saw this as the perfect opportunity to get to know his dad, seeing as he has known him for all of a few hours now.
Harry reached his room and sprinted inside, throwing the door shut behind him in his hurry to get dressed. Quickly as he could, Harry threw open his trunk and began to rummage inside for his best hand- me- downs. His mind was racing with all of the questions he wanted to ask his father, he only hoped that he got to ask them all.
Finally finding his best, a gray T-shirt and the only jeans he owned that weren't holy at the knees, Harry clumsily put his clothes on and rushed back out of his bedroom door and down the stairs.
James stood at the bottom, waiting for Harry to come down so that they could leave.
"Ready son?" He asked when Harry finally reached the bottom step of the staircase.
Harry smiled and nodded happily before replying, "Ready dad," joy evident in his voice. It still felt so good to Harry to finally have his parents with him, to finally be able to call them "mum" and "dad".
"Alright, go say goodbye to your mum, and then we are off to London."
"Ok." Harry went into the kitchen where his mother was dutifully cleaning the dishes, feeling a bit guilty Harry asked, "Mum? Do you need any help?"
"No, I'm fine sweetheart," replied Lily quickly before turning from her work and bending down to give her son a big hug, "now be good for your father, and have fun, ok?"
"Ok. We will," He said with a grin, "We'll see you later then."
"See you later."
With a final hug from his mother, Harry returned to the stairs, only to find that his father was no longer there. 'He must be in the coming and going room,' Harry thought before making his way over to that very place.
As Harry had thought, his father stood waiting for him by one of the fireplaces, floo powder in hand.
"Ok Harry, here's the pan," James whispered loudly, as if they were spies planning their strategies for completely a top secret mission, "We'll floo in to the Leaky Cauldron, and as quickly as we can, book our way out the doors and into muggle London. If we're lucky, no one will know us out there."
Harry nodded excitedly. It may be a bit selfish, but Harry didn't want anyone to interrupt his day with his dad.
"Alrighty then," James said in his normal volume, "let's be off, shall we?"
Without really waiting for a response, James threw some powder into the fire while saying, "The Leaky Cauldron", then pulled Harry in with him.
Again Harry was tossed around the fireplace, and he got soot everywhere, but the spinning stopped as soon as the Potter men landed in the fire pit of the Leaky Cauldron.
"Ok Harry, run!" James shouted before grabbing Harry's shoulder gently and pulling him through the crowds of loyal Leaky patrons.
Without too much of a struggle, the two made it outside of the small pub, and found themselves in the middle of a bustling muggle London. Harry allowed his eyes to adjust to the unusual brightness of the sun before looking around at all of the shops.
The Dursley's had never really taken Harry anywhere with them unless they had to, so all of their fun excursions to London usually left Harry at Mrs. Figg's house looking at her cats and breathing in the stench of cabbage in the air. Harry had never seen all of the different sweet shops, and book stores, and clothing outlets that London had to offer, and although it wasn't nearly as magical as Diagon Alley, Harry thought that it was amazing all the same.
"Ok, son. Choose which store you want to check out first," his father said breathlessly, obviously he hadn't been on this side of the brick wall too much either, "money is not an issue, so find whatever you like."
Harry looked around at all of the stores before finally leading his father to a small clothing shop almost hidden from view. Harry didn't know what about the place attracted him, but he had a good feeling that he could find so many great clothes in there.
The two Potters journeyed inside the quaint little shop, making a little bell ding as they opened the door.
"Well hello you two," said a graying lady from behind the counter, "anything I could help you find?"
"We're just looking for some nice, fitting clothes for my son here. I'm afraid the hand- me- downs he's been given don't quite fit." James answered smoothly, obviously trying to charm the old woman with his smile and speech.
"Hm, yes I would say not. Well, all of our men's clothes are over on that far wall near the back."
"Thank you very much, ma'am." Harry's father said with a wink toward the woman.
James led his son over to the directed men and boys section, then stood in front of it with a smile gracing his lips.
"Go ahead," he said joyfully, "get anything you want. You do need to replace your entire wardrobe after all."
Harry beamed at his father before going over to all of the displays and getting at least four of everything: Polo shirts, T-shirts, long sleeved, dress shirts, jackets, jeans, slacks, socks. Harry bounded over to his father, his arms over flowing with clothes, all the while smiling like a fool. 'Finally I'll have some nice fitting clothes for a change,' Harry thought joyously as his father took his pile from him, and put it on the counter with a soft FLOP.
"Will that be all for you then?" The lady asked kindly while ringing up all of their items.
"For now, yeah. But don't be surprised if you see us in here again sometime. This place is incredible." James responded while pulling out a large wad of muggle money from his pocket.
The nice lady continued to talk to Harry's father, telling him the totally cost of all of the items, but Harry was too distracted to listen to their conversation. Harry would never be able to explain why, but in that moment, with his dad dutifully paying for his new clothes, everything that has happened came down and struck Harry like lightning. This was a dream come true for him, all he ever wanted was right there in front of him. Harry still half expected to wake up somewhere and realize that it was all a dream, but even so, Harry knew deep down, that it was all real. He finally had his family back with him, and now he'll get to know his father like he had always wanted to.
Suddenly, Harry was pulled from his thoughts by a light shake of his shoulder and a soft, "Harry? Are you ok?"
Harry looked up at his father, still a little slow to react from his time thinking and gave him a small, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking,"
"Oh? About what?"
"N-nothing." Harry said quickly, embarrassed by his doubt.
James gave Harry a skeptical look before the smile replaced it and graced his features once more, "fine then," he said jubilantly, "you'll just have to tell me over ice cream then"
"Ice cream? But dad, we just had breakfast."
"True, but you're still a growing boy, and all growing boys need ice cream whenever it is available. There's a parlor just down the road form here. Let's go there."
Harry stood silent for a minute, considering what he should do. Finally, the child in Harry won over the responsible side of him, and he cheered his father on as he led them toward the ice cream parlor and sat down at a table.
James ordered both of them double scooped vanilla cones, then looked at Harry with a smile still on his face. Harry, on the other hand, had turned serious at the change of pace. Now that the excitement of getting new clothes had worn off, Harry saw his chance to talk to his dad, and ask the questions that he had always wanted to ask him.
"Dad?" Harry said slowly, hoping not to dim his father's good mood.
"What's wrong Harry?" James asked, concern evident in his voice.
"N- Nothing. Nothing's wrong."
"Then what's up? You can talk to me, son."
Harry was nervous, but he licked his lips and began tell his father everything that's running through his mind. His joy at having his parents back, his fears that this will all turn out to be a dream, and his plea to know more about his parents and who they are.
James sat for a moment, giving Harry a serious look before he cracked a smile and gleefully told his Harry, "If you want to know something, just ask. You haven't known us all that long, so obviously you would ask questions. I was just wondering how long it would take before you decided to do so."
Harry smiled and opened his mouth to begin his questioning, but suddenly all of the questions he wanted to ask left him and all he could ask was, "What's your favorite color?"
James laughed as Harry receded into his chair, mentally beating himself up for saying something so stupid.
"My favorite color is green, actually. A bright emerald green." James responded smiling, trying to make his son comfortable again.
"Why?" Harry was honestly curious. The color James had described matched Harry and his mother's eyes perfectly.
"Because it reminded me of your mother, and the color reminded me of you too after you were born."
Harry smiled softly. His father really cared about him.
"So what's your favorite color, son?"
"Well, I like the color red, because of Gryffindor." Harry said proudly, trying to impress his father with his house placement.
James smiled proudly back at his son and gave him a quick, "Atta boy."
Harry began to get over his embarrassment, and suddenly his multitude of questions popped back into his head.
"So what was school like for you? Were you and mum friends? What's your favorite class? When did you start quidditch? When-"
"Whoa," interrupted James, "slow down, son. One at a time."
"Sorry."
"Nah, it's alright. To answer those questions, though. School for me was amazing. I was popular, but that didn't matter to me, well, ok it mattered a little, but that changed eventually. I had three best friends while I was there, Sirius, Remus, and the traitor, Pettigrew. Unfortunately for me, your mum was not a fan of the pranks my friends and I would pull. She found us a bother, and she absolutely hated my guts for the longest time. In fact, we didn't even start dating until our seventh year."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah, seriously. Um, my favorite class would have to be… Transfiguration. It was my best class at school aside from Defense, and no matter what she says, I was McGonagall's favorite. I didn't start quidditch until my second year at school, and I became captain in my fifth year. I was a chaser primarily, but I was the reserve seeker for the team just in case something happened. Sirius played alongside me, although he was a beater. Was that it?"
"Yeah, that was all that I asked."
"Ok. Now I know you probably want to ask some more questions, but we have to get home before your mum comes down here and curses my hair off."
"Does she do that often?"
"Not anymore, but she definitely used to."
Harry jokingly wrapped his hands around his hair giving his father a fearful look before saying, "Remind me to never make mum angry at me."
James burst into loud laughter at his son's joke, then he stood up, motioning for Harry to follow suit.
"I promise, I won't let her touch your hair. Now let's get going."
And with that, the Potter men returned to the Leaky Cauldron, repeated their earlier scramble through the pub, and returned home through the floo network to help Lily prepare the manor for their supper guest. All the while, a smile never left Harry's face. This was finally feeling real and permanent, and he loved it.
Holy crap guys, this is the longest chapter yet. YAY!
I hope you liked it, and forgive me for my long period of silence.
Ok, so you guys know what to do. Leave a review telling me what you thought, and make sure to tell your friends to check this story out for me.
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Thanks a lot faithful readers.
Yours sincerely,
Muggleborn Malfoy.
