Chapter 2: Eyes of the Mother

As the months passed, James gradually began recovering from Lily's death and moving back into the normal pattern of life. What was he talking about: normal! His wife was dead! Lily was gone! There was nothing whatsoever normal about his life. Still, life without Lily was amazingly, albeit painfully possible, and James found himself falling into something of a daily pattern. It was not life as it had been, full of vibrancy and laughter, but he carried on as he knew he must.

He had moved with the twins back into the Potter manor once the aurors had determined that Voldemort was no longer an imminent threat but knew that the Dark Lord was, by no means destroyed and would probably seize his first opportunity to return and finish the work he had started.

Sirius and Remus had stayed with him a few weeks until they were satisfied that he had things under control and, though he would never admit it, their help with the twins and support had been invaluable. Since Lily's passing, he had avoided the boys as much as possible but he was soon required to resume his fatherly duties and care for his sons. The day Sirius and Remus left, he made his way hesitantly into the nursery, his eyes skimming over the place on the floor where his love's body had lain three weeks prior. Slowly, he made his way to the crib where the two boys lay peering up at him expectantly. One look at Harry's/Lily's brilliant green eyes and he nearly lost it. Steeling himself, he fixed his eyes pointedly on Aaron's dark brown eyes and slowly picked the older twin up carrying him gently downstairs to the highchair without a backwards glance at Harry.

Green eyes followed James' back through the door in confusion but Harry didn't make a sound, certain that his father would soon be back for him. When James returned an hour later however, it was only to place a bag of cheerios and bottle of water in the crib, eyes fixed anywhere but on his youngest son.

That night, James did not sleep. A terrible idea had entered his mind and was eating away at it. He couldn't possibly do it. It was the coward's way out. But then on the other hand, he could not live with the boy. He could not endure being reminded of his beautiful wife every time he looked into the child's eyes; could not stand to remember all the funny little expressions Lily used to make and the way she could get him to do anything by fixing him with her brilliant green eyes. There was no way he could keep this child who was so like her. He would die inside every time he looked at him. But surely there had to be other ways of dealing with it. Surely he could give the child to Remus or Sirius or even Lily's family but that would mean admitting weakness and if there was one thing James never did, it was admit to someone else that he actually needed help. He just couldn't bring himself to do that. And, given all the press the broken family had received following Voldemort's attack and disappearance, if he gave the child away, the entire wizarding world would know that he was weak. It would be smarter to deal with the problem quietly than ruin his reputation.

In the early hours of the morning, he finally came to the conclusion that, if he kept Harry, he would not be a good father to either boy. Whereas if he gave his younger son up, true, he would be a failure of a father to Harry, but he would be as good a father as he could to Aaron; better to be a good father to one than a terrible father to two. It was with this reasoning that James went down to the kitchens and drew aside his most loyal house elf, Tory.

"Tory I need you to do something very important for me", James explained.

"Anything for Master Potter", replied the elf, eager to please.

"I need you to take care of Harry...completely. I never want to see him again. Care for him well and make sure that he has everything he needs, but do not let me see him. It...it hurts too much."

"Master never wants to see the young master? Ever?" the house elf replied confused.

"Ever. Can you do that for me Tory?" James asked, a pleading note involuntarily making its way into his voice.

"Of course Master Potter. Tory can do it."

With that, James went out and fixed the room nearest his own for Aaron leaving Harry alone in the old nursery. Once everything had been prepared, he went in to retrieve Aaron never once meeting Harry's eyes and left the nursery. James would not set foot in the room again for years.

In the weeks that followed, his mind often strayed to his younger son but, as time wore on and old wounds began to heal, such thoughts gradually became less and less frequent until Harry finally became a mere shadow of a memory in his father's mind.