Midnight Conversations

Summary: After the events following the third task, Harry has been having trouble sleeping. One night, James finds him in the kitchen. Since they both can't sleep, they have a father-and-son talk. Harry gets to ask James a question he had been dying to know, especially since he's beginning to have feelings for a certain redhead.

AN: This should have been posted before History Repeats Its Self, but here we are. Includes the conversation I mentioned in that fic between Harry and James. Enjoy!

It was a quiet and peaceful night in South East England. In the little town of Potter's Bar, 20 miles north of London, was a house surrounded by trees and forest. To the Muggles, the house was an average English family home. But it was not an average English family home. In the backyard was a flower garden and a small vegetable garden. Something you saw in a normal England garden. There also was a Quidditch Pitch with a broom shed. That was something you didn't see in a normal garden.

In the house lived a family of three. In the master bedroom, James and Lily were sound asleep, if the sound of James's snoring was anything to go by.

But Harry was not.

The quietness of the house was broken by the sound of a door squeaking. Quiet footsteps approached the stairs. As Harry headed down the stairs, the fourth squeaked. He whispered a curse that if his mother heard, she would wash his mouth with soap. After waiting a few breaths to see if his parents were awake, Harry continued to the kitchen. Unbeknownst to his parents, this was his third night this week that he hadn't been able to sleep, the sixth time since he got home.

Harry had been home for two weeks from Hogwarts, where he was forced to participate in the Tri-Wizard Tournament. On the night of the third task, they learned the cup was a Portkey. Harry and Cedric were transported to a cemetery in Little Hangleton. It was there Harry was forced into a ritual that brought Lord Voldemort back to life.

Since that night and returning home, Harry didn't sleep much. Lily had suspicions of Harry not sleeping. She had taken to every few days, slipping some sleeping potions in his tea or hot chocolate. It at least let him sleep through the night without nightmares.

On the nights the nightmares did occur, Lily would send James back to bed and stay with Harry. She tried everything she could think of in the beginning. One night, she remembered how she got Harry to sleep when he was younger. She would give him a massage.

She would have Harry lie on his stomach to rub his back, shoulders, and neck. Other times, she had him lying on his back and would massage his stomach. He was asleep in minutes, no matter which massage she did.

Harry made it to the kitchen, turning the light on as he walked towards the refrigerator. He got out the milk and collected the cocoa from the cabinet. He warmed the milk in a pot on the stove. Harry had been making hot chocolate for himself since he was thirteen. Remus showed him how to make it during Christmas Break of his third year. He made it so much he could do it blindfolded.

When the hot chocolate was ready, Harry collected his mug and poured it into his mug. Picking up his mug and a bag of marshmallows, he headed to the kitchen table. The day's Daily Prophet was sitting on the table, announcing Cornelius Fudge was no longer Minister of Magic, and Rufus Scrimgeour was elected as the new Minister of Magic. He declared he believed Harry's story Voldemort had returned. It was needless to say that a war was coming.

It also announced that Kingsley Shacklebolt was taking Scrimgeour's place as Head Auror. Kingsley selected James as his Deputy Head Auror, a promotion James welcomed, as it meant no more missions. Lily and Harry liked it because it meant James would be home more often.

Harry looked over the paper for the third time that day as he dumped a handful of marshmallows into his mug, using his spoon to dunk them in. He didn't hear the footsteps coming down the stairs and shuffled to the kitchen.

"What are you doing up?"

The voice caused Harry to jump. He had to cover his mouth with his hand to prevent a yelp from escaping. He looked up and found James standing in the doorway of the kitchen. His hair was messy from sleep.

"Geez, Dad, you scared me," Harry hissed.

"Sorry, Harry. What are you doing up?" James repeated.

"Couldn't sleep," Harry replied, folding the paper.

"Nightmare?" James asked. Harry shook his head.

"No, I just couldn't stay asleep. I should have Mum rub my back before bed," Harry mumbled, propping his head on an upturned hand.

"Yeah, your Mum's hands can work wonders," James agreed as he fixed himself a cup of hot chocolate and collected the biscuit tin. Lily had made shortbread and chocolate biscuits that morning. Sirius wasn't there to hog all the shortbread.

James set the biscuit tin on the table. He sat down in the chair next to Harry.

"What's on your mind?" he prompted.

Harry reached into the tin, pulling out a chocolate biscuit, dunking it in the hot chocolate.

"What isn't? Voldemort's return, Cedric's death, the events of last year, how most of it is my fault-" James cut Harry off at that point.

"It is not your fault, kiddo."

Harry looked at his Dad, shock written on his face.

"What?" James asked.

"You haven't called me kiddo since I was eleven."

James reached over, patting his shoulder. "I know, but I'm serious. Nothing is your fault. You didn't know that the cup was a portkey. You didn't know that Voldemort would return."

"I know. But I still think it's my fault," Harry mumbled.

James sighed. He recalled that night, that horrible night. He and Lily thought their son was dead for a second. But then they realized Harry was okay, but Cedric was dead. They were relieved and saddened that Amos lost his son.

James and Lily panicked when they couldn't find their son a few minutes later. Someone told them Harry was taken back to the castle by Professor Moody. Only they found out that he wasn't Professor Moody. It was Barty Crouch JR.

James sent Lily to the hospital wing to wait for them while he and Sirius followed Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape back to the castle.

After he rescued Harry from the Moody imposter, James carried him to the hospital wing. Being under the Cruciatus Curse had made Harry feel weak. Because of this, he couldn't walk to the hospital wing on his own. James picked him up after casting a feather-light charm on his son and carried him to the hospital wing. Lily directed him straight to the bathroom. Between him and Sirius, they washed the sweat, blood, dirt, and grime off Harry. After the shower, Lily treated his injuries. James helped change him into the pajamas Lily had in her quarters.

Sirius slept as Padfoot, next to Harry, allowing James and Lily to sleep in the next bed. Unfortunately, when he woke up the next morning, he found himself held under a tight hold by Harry. James had to help him get out of Harry's grip to go to the loo.

It was the next day when everything came crashing down on Harry. He then did something he hadn't done since he was ten. He let Lily hold him as he sobbed into her shoulder. Lily rocked him gently, rubbing his back as she murmured comforting words as she shared a look of concern with James.

"Harry, it was not your fault," James repeated. "It was Wormtail's and Voldemort's. We're just thankful that you made it out alive. I couldn't imagine life with you. Neither could your Mum, Sirius, Hestia, or Remus. We love you, and we'll get through this."

"I love you all, too. You've had to deal with a lot with me, from the stone my first year, the chamber my second, Pettigrew my third, the tournament last year, and in between that, taking care of me when I'm sick or injured."

"We have, and we'll continue it. We're your family. It's our job. I stood by you through all of it, even when I knew you were sick, especially when you had Wizard's Flu." James shuddered involuntarily. Harry looked at his father questionably until he realized something.

"I puked on you, didn't I?" Harry guessed. Memories of those three days were a fog to him now.

James nodded. "It was not the first time, Son. You've puked on me many times. Remember the chocolate frog incident?"

Harry groaned. "Neither Ron nor I could look at one for months after that. Just thinking about it makes my stomach roll. That was one of the stupidest things I did in my life."

To change the subject, James asked, "So, do you know what you want to do after Hogwarts?"

"I don't know, I've thought about being an Auror. I've inherited your Quidditch skills, so maybe play Quidditch professionally. I've thought of being a healer. But, the sight of blood and vomit makes me want to vomit."

"You inherited Great Grandpa Potter's weak stomach, didn't you?" James guessed.

"I must have." Harry broke another biscuit in half, popping one half in his mouth. "I really didn't know I had a weak stomach until that slug incident with Ron. It was all I could do to keep from throwing up. I turned my head when he would…." Harry trailed off. The memory had made him feel slightly nauseous like he had felt when Ron started vomiting slugs.

"Didn't you tell your mother?" James inquired.

"I didn't have to. After witnessing that, I didn't feel like eating anything. I headed up to the dorm to lie down. Mum found me, and I told her what happened. She told me that I had always been like that. Seeing someone vomit made me vomit."

"You never told your friends?" James figured Harry would have told one of them. Remus was the one in the group who had a weak stomach. He and Sirius knew about it and never judged him for it. But over time, Remus was able to overcome it. Now, he can handle being around vomit and has helped take care of Harry before.

"Neville, Ron, and Hermione didn't find out until something happened. I ended up telling them. It's still a deep secret of mine. Only my closest friends know about it."

Harry nibbled on a biscuit, collecting his thoughts. There was something he had on his mind. It been on his mind had for a while. He was waiting for the right time to ask James about it. It had been on his mind since Christmas.

"Dad?"

"Yeah, Harry?"

Harry took a deep breath. He needed to ask this question. He knew he would be hearing things about his parents. Maybe things he would rather not know.

"How did you ask Mum out?" He asked.

If James was surprised, he didn't show it. Lily had told him about the Yule Ball and how much time Harry had spent with Ginny. She had a wonderful time at the ball. The smile was on her face all night. But Lily told him she noticed something about their son.

She realized Harry was slowly but surely falling in love with Ginny.

Hearing his son ask how he asked out his mother, James knew where this conversation was headed.

James had waited for this moment since the day Harry was born.

"Which time?"

"The final time," Harry countered. "Sirius told me it took you multiple times to get Mum. She called you an arrogant toerag."

"Who told you that?" James asked, stunned to know Harry knew about the old nickname Lily had for him.

"Mum."

"Figured," James sighed.

He thought back to the day he finally got a yes from Lily to go to Hogsmeade with him. Lily had caved one afternoon in their sixth year and finally said yes. In truth, she had started to like the Potter boy. With the help of her friends Alice and Janice, she prepared for the date. Each night was dedicated to some form of beauty ritual.

By Saturday, she was ready. If James thought she was beautiful on any day of the week, she was gorgeous on Saturday. The bulky robes hid her figure and curves. Her hair was down and curled, not pulled up at the top of her head in the usual messy bun.

After breakfast, they headed down to the village, where they spent the day. By the time they had returned to the castle, they were laughing and talking like old friends. Over the next week, they spend some time together. They enjoyed each other's company by taking walks around the lake together, sitting together at meals, heading up to the Astronomy tower at night, and even flying on his broom together. It didn't matter as long as they were together.

One afternoon a week later, James plucked up enough courage to ask her to be his girlfriend. Lily said yes, and that was how they got together.

"Dad?"

James came out of his daydream when he heard his son's voice. Then he remembered why he was thinking of the beginning of his and Lily's relationship.

"Who's the girl?" James asked with a smile, already knowing the answer. He just wanted to hear from his son.

"Ginny," Harry said quietly.

James nodded, smiling. The interaction between Harry and Ginny had been comical, for lack of a better term. Harry was tongue-tied around her. It was apparent that his son had it bad for the Weasley girl.

"You get tongue-tied around her?" James asked.

"Yeah," Harry replied.

"Is your heart pounding fast?"

"Yeah."

"You feel sweaty, the palm of your hands, especially?"

"Yeah."

"What about your stomach?"

"I feel like I'm going to throw up, or my stomach feels like I swallowed a bunch of snitches."

James nodded, smiling to himself. "Son, I felt the same way about your mother."

Harry then let something else that had been bothering him off his chest.

"But she's Ron's sister. I don't know how to tell him. I'm afraid of how he'll react. She's dating Michael Corner now. I know I'll have a chance because when I talked to Ron, he said things aren't going well."

James smiled to himself, knowing what Harry was thinking.

"Let me ask you this question. How did you ask Ginny to the Yule Ball?"

"I just asked her," Harry shrugged.

"Did Ron have a problem with that?"

"No."

"Son, he trusts you with his life. He'll trust you with Ginny. I would be thrilled if I had a sister and Sirius liked her. I wouldn't worry because I trust Sirius with my life."

Harry nodded, knowing he was worrying over nothing about how Ron would react.

"Thanks, Dad."

"Harry, how long have you liked Ginny?"

Harry nearly snorted hot chocolate up his nose. He quickly swallowed the rest of the hot chocolate.

"Before the Yule Ball. I can't really describe it, though."

James nodded, smiling as he remembered feeling the same way about Lily. He had turned to his father one night before his sixth year and asked what he could do. He said the same thing that he had told Harry tonight.

"I think I'm in love with her," Harry whispered.

"Repeat that?" James sat up straight, leaning forward towards his son.

"I think I'm in love with her. I've fallen in love with my best friend's sister."

James smiled, leaning back in his chair.

"I figured you have. Here's what I suggest," James began. Harry leaned forward, ready to listen to every word. "Wait until she's free. If she is by the time school is in session, follow my advice. Ask her to Hogsmeade as soon as the first date is announced. Once you do, make a plan. Ask for her input and then spend the day together. And if you feel that the time is right, ask her to be your girlfriend.

"Thanks, Dad."

"And lastly, don't share your plans with Sirius. He'll show up and make your day miserable."

"What did Sirius do?" Harry asked with a smile.

"He followed your Mum and me around. He would interrupt our conversation. He would loudly announce that we kissed. He tried to walk in between us to prevent us from holding hands. I ended up hexing him by the end of the day. I kissed her when we returned to the castle."

Harry laughed, trying not to be loud. He didn't want to wake his mother.

"What happened after?" Harry inquired.

"He didn't speak to me for a day. A week later, I took advantage of some alone time with Lily. We went for a walk to what is now our tree. Sitting there under the shade, I asked her to be mine. I told her what I liked about her first. Then I asked her."

"So, I should do that?" Harry asked.

"Yeah. It worked for me. Son, the main thing is to be yourself. Be the Harry she knows."

"Which one?"

James snorted. "The kind, caring, friendly one. The one who smiles more."

"Thanks, Dad."

"You're welcome, son."

Harry picked up the tin, peering inside. "You do know these will be gone tomorrow, right?"

Sirius and Remus were coming over for dinner tomorrow. Sirius would eat all the shortbread biscuits, and Remus would eat all the chocolate.

"I do. It's why I got some shortbread biscuits in a tin hidden in my office."

"Does Mum know?"

"No, she does."

James banished his and Harry's mugs to the sink and the biscuit tin back to the counter. They remained at the table, discussing their plans of going to Muggle London for a father and son day. Maybe go to a Quidditch match? James had a friend who could get him tickets to the next Puddlemere United and Appleby Arrows match.

They had been so busy discussing what they would want to do this summer that they didn't notice Lily enter the kitchen.

"What are you two doing up?" she asked.

"I had woken up, hearing someone down here. It was just Harry," James explained. Lily turned to her son.

"What were you doing up?" she repeated, the question directed to her son.

"I couldn't sleep," Harry answered.

"Well, it's two in the morning, and you both need some sleep," Lily said in a tone that didn't merit any arguing. She looked at her son, who was now yawning.

"I'll clean up in the morning. Let's go back to bed."

The two Potter men followed Lily back up the stairs. Lily pointed to their room and motioned for James to go on in.

"I'll be there in a minute," she said quietly.

"Okay." He hugged Harry. "Good night, son."

"Good night, Dad."

Harry followed his mother to his bedroom. She fixed the sheets on his bed and the comforter. Not needing to be told, Harry laid down on the bed.

"Turn over onto your stomach, and I'll rub your back," Lily requested as she sat on the edge of his bedside.

Listening to his mother, Harry turned onto his stomach. He soon felt Lily's hand under his T-shirt, rubbing his back.

"Thanks, Mum," Harry murmured.

"You're welcome, sweetheart." She rubbed his back, watching as Harry fell asleep, and soon his breathing evened out, telling her that he had fallen asleep.

She gently removed his glasses, as Harry didn't take them off, laying them on the nightstand. She got up from the bed and tucked the covers around her son. Softly, she kissed his cheek.

"Good night, sweetheart. I love you," She whispered.

She turned off the lamp on Harry's nightstand and left the room quietly, pulling the door halfway. Returning to her bedroom, she made a mental note to let Harry have a lie-in tomorrow morning.

Harry would never forget the advice James gave him that night. It was advice that one day Harry could pass down to his sons. It wasn't the last midnight conversation Harry and James had. There would be many of them over the next year or two. But it was this midnight conversation that Harry would never forget.