I'd just like to thank my lone reviewer lovefrog159 for reviewing obviously.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters or ideas.
The patter of footsteps
That's the first thing you think of when you become pregnant, the patter of those tiny little feet. But that isn't what happens when the baby comes, not automatically at least anyway. Babies don't come out holding conversation, they do however come out with a mind of their own that you'll undoubtablely protect and bubble wrap, until they grow up.
But when does growing up begin? For me it was watching Harry's first steps. For James it was properly watching him zoom through the house on a toy broomstick destroying that vase. Ironic how he flew on a broomstick before he could walk, it's like talking before you can breathe.
It was shortly after his first birthday, on a warm August evening. I was sat curled up on the sofa watching my husband and son intently.
"You like that, don't you Harry," James said as he began to give him a rocket lift. Harry has held in James arms safe and happy, his chubby little feet kicking out as he gave a little laugh.
I smiled at the scene; James played a father so well.
"Like what you see," he called to me when he saw me watching.
He put Harry down on the carpet, and walked over to the sofa and sat down next to me. Instinctively I snuggled into him and he draped his arm around my shoulders. My eyes closed as I inhaled the scent of his cologne.
"Lily, look," he whispered after a few minutes of me having my eyes closed.
I opened my eyes to find Harry standing up on his own two feet, his arms outstretched in the air keeping balance. Just this was amazing to me. I got of the sofa leaving James to watch, I was three of four paces opposite Harry as he slowly started to move his little legs in my direction reciting one of the only words he knew 'mama'. My arms were in front of me clapping Harry closer, as soon as he completed the full three paces he collapsed into my arms as I lifted him into the air.
Moments later James joined in the hug, me and Harry easily fitting in them as usual. He kissed me on the cheek as I smiled into his chest.
"That's my boy," I whispered. "My grown up boy," I said smiling. I kept on smiling happy in my world with my two men, who I wouldn't trade for anything – not ever.
A/N – Was that better than the first? I might try a different POV next time, an outsider's look on the Potters, would that be any good? Please review as I am hesitant to continue.
