Histrionics: Behavior or speech for effect, as insincere or exaggerated expression of an emotion.

June 4, 2024

"The world has come crashing down."

Harry looked up from the Daily Prophet to see his eldest son in the doorway, hands braced on the frame and a dazed look on his face.

Instantly, his thoughts jumped to a resurgence of dark magic, to an uprising in Knockturn Alley like Rita Skeeter kept writing about in the rag of a tabloid she'd secured for herself, to attacks, threats, and a resurrection of the Death Eaters.

Choking on his coffee, Harry jumped up to inspect James for damages or curses. "What happened?" he demanded.

James staggered forward and collapsed into a chair as if his legs were made of jelly, increasing his father's alarm. Looking up at Harry with a desperate expression on his face, he said haltingly, "Fred 's – got – a – girlfriend."

Alarm evaporated into exasperation so fast, Harry was surprised not to find his clothes steaming.

"James," he muttered, rubbing his forehead vigorously (a habit he hadn't had before his son came along). "Merlin, I thought the shop got held up or something. Don't do that."

"Dad," James said indignantly, straightening up. "This is worse than the shop getting held up. Didn't you hear what I said? Fred's got a girlfriend! Do you even realize what that means?"

"That you lost your bet with Teddy?" Harry offered, sinking back into his own seat and straightening the papers that had flown out of his hands at James's arrival.

"No – wait, damn. I forgot about that. Anyway, it means I've been abandoned by my best mate." James buried his head in his arms and continued talking in a muffled voice. "We had a plan. Bachelors until at least twenty-five. Not caring if we folded our clothes or shaved or got pissed every weekend. All gone. Fred and Mariah are going to go dancing every night he's got off, get married, and turn into one of those couples that collect macramé decorations, and I'll be starving in our tiny flat with six kneezles because I don't even know what macramé is!"

"Okay, Jamie, how long exactly have they known each other?" Harry asked.

James lifted his head. "About six days. She just started working at Madam Malkin's."

Harry closed his eyes. James tugged on his elbow like he was about seven.

"Dad, this is serious! Fred betrayed me! You could show a little more sympathy."

With some effort, Harry opened his eyes again and looked at his nineteen-year-old son slumped across the table from him. James's blue eyes made him look younger than he was, especially with the light dusting of freckles he hadn't quite grown out of yet and the way that, underneath his dramatic show, his lower lip trembled ever so slightly.

"Alright, mate, let's chat," Harry said, scooting his chair closer and putting a consoling hand on James's shoulder. "First off, Fred has not betrayed you. Getting a girlfriend doesn't – and shouldn't – mean cutting all ties. Secondly, you're speaking to someone whose best friends hooked up with each other. Trust me; it is not the end of the world. It'll be different than it used to be, you know, in school when you lot got girlfriends and all you could do was walk around the lake or go to Hogsmeade together a few times a year, but –"

"Trust me, Dad, that was not all we could do," James interrupted.

Pretending he hadn't heard that comment, Harry went on, "But it isn't as though Fred's packed up and hopped a ship to America or anything. Give him a few weeks and the whole 'honeymoon' phase'll be over, and you'll have the old Fred back."

James gave his father a dubious look. "May I ask for references for this advice?"

Harry sighed and stood up to refill his coffee. "My point is don't buy six kneezles just yet."

"Of course not," James agreed, standing, too. "That's plan B. Plan A is to pick up a bird of my own. Love to stay and braid each other's hair after this wonderful heart to heart, but it's been four hours since Fred's announcement. I'm burning daylight."

"James –"

But his son was already dashing out the back door. To where, Harry thought he'd rather not know.

"I'll send Teddy to hunt him down," Ginny offered, coming through the scullery door.

"Were you listening the whole time?" Harry asked her suspiciously.

Ginny smirked. "You had it under control."

Harry shook his head. "How did we raise such a dramatic son?"

"I don't know!" Ginny positively wailed, clasping Harry's hands and dropping to her knees. "How? How did this happen to us?"

Harry rolled his eyes at his wife. "This one's all on you, love."

A/N: This took a ridiculously long time to write and post. I'm so sorry. I don't have a lot of internet capability at the mo, and on Monday I'm off to France for 16 days where I will have NO time or oppertunity to engage in fanfiction activities. Don't think I've ever gone that long without logging in in the two years I've been addicted to this site. But France will keep my mind off it.

Anyway, this is for randomgirloutthere110, who asked for some Harry and James Sirius Potter. I know I said it would take a little while and I would make it a snapshot, but then I read this word and was like JAMES! So there you go. :)

Appologies in advance for the lack of updates in June. I might have to skip again and get straight to July... :/