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James stepped into The Three Broomsticks, a sigh escaping his lips as he finally escaped the cold outside. Rather chilly for this time of the year, he thought.
Looking around the mostly empty pub, he spotted a familiar head of messy black hair sitting at a table that seemed to be as far as possible from Rosmerta.
It worried him a bit, with how desperate Harry’s letter had sounded, telling him they just had to meet and it had to be alone as possible. James wasn’t sure what to expect.
“Hey,” he said, sitting down. Harry looked up.
“Hi. Thanks for coming.”
“Anytime.”
Harry smiled at him. “Er, do you wanna order anything?”
“Sure. Butterbeer?”
He nodded and called Rosmerta over. Once she left to get them two butterbeers, Harry frowned at the table.
“You alright?”
When he opened his mouth to speak a couple of times but nothing came out, James tilted his head at him. “Take your time, Harry,” he said patiently, receiving a nod in response.
A few minutes passed before Harry finally spoke, albeit rather vaguely. “I like this...boy. A lot. He always stays by my side, he makes me laugh. He’s just...amazing — and not only to me.”
He paused for a moment. James took the opportunity to wonder if this conversation would be about a particular redhead. Well, whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t going to be about Harry getting in trouble for saving a baby dragon — or something like that.
“And,” Harry continued with a slight shake of his head, “when he does something like — smile at me, I feel all...warm inside, you know?”
“I do,” said James, thinking of all the time Lily would make him feel the same way. “And it feels nice when you make him smile too, right?”
Harry’s eyes brightened, “Yeah! It makes me feel so special because — I ’m the one who made him laugh. Me .”
He looked down at his butterbeer, smiling. Judging by the dreamy look on his face, he was probably a bit lost in his thoughts.
James guessed he was thinking about ‘this boy’. Or in other words, about Ron.
Not that James would’ve thought of Ron at all if it hadn’t been for Lily. Lovely, clever Lily. She had ended up telling him her thoughts after a simple, suspicious question (and a very valid one too, in James’ opinion) during Harry’s Easter Holidays.
Lily sat curled up beside James on the couch, her head resting on his shoulder as his arm remained wrapped around her. She peered up at him, her fingers pausing where they’d been flipping through a Witch Weekly magazine when he murmured her name.
“Hm?”
“Do you see that?” James whispered incredulously.
“See what?”
“Harry isn’t losing terribly.”
Lily glanced at where Harry and Ron were playing chess near the crackling fireplace, and indeed, Harry wasn’t losing terribly.
“James!” Lily laughed, “I can’t believe you just said that about your son,” she said teasingly.
“He’s horrible at chess,” James shrugged, “Can you blame me?”
“No,” she admitted. “But it’s obvious why he isn’t losing terribly.”
He looked down at her, eyebrows furrowing, “Right,” he said, stretching the word. “But maybe you should tell me anyway.”
Lily bit back a smile, “Haven’t you noticed how close those two have become since we came back from my mum and dad’s house? Molly told me she heard Ginny tell Ron to ‘Get off his sad arse because moping around wasn’t gonna make Harry appear at the Burrow’.”
James gaped at her, “She did not .”
“She did,” Lily said with a smirk, “Can’t blame her. I nearly said the same thing to Harry. No one likes to see their son sulking around during bloody Christmas.”
James groaned, “It drove me mental, kept mumbling Ron’s name whenever I asked him what was wrong. Next year, we better make sure they’re together during their Christmas Holidays.”
“Oh, definitely. I wonder how Arthur and Molly felt?”
“Probably like us.”
“True.”
“Anyways,” James said, remembering what they’d been talking about initially, “I guess I’ve noticed. What about it?”
She glanced at the two teenagers across the room before lowering her voice. “I think they like each other. Like, fancy each other.”
James blinked, “Are you joking? — ”
Lily shook her head, brushing a strand of hair that fell atop her face away as she did. “Do I look like I’m joking? Think about it!”
James raised an eyebrow at her but did, indeed, think about it.
“Hey,” he whispered after a while, “you’re right. They do like each other! Er, I mean probably like each other,” he added at her slight cough.
“Yeah! And they might even realise it soon. Maybe they already have. ”
“They like each other. Wow .”
Lily nodded, “Wow indeed. Now,” she straightened her magazine, “Wanna take this ‘How big of a romantic are you’ quiz with me?”
James was pulled away from the memory by the sound of another tankard of butterbeer being placed on their table.
He looked at it vacantly, shaking his head when Harry caught his eye, an apologetic look on his face.
“Oh, good. Thought you didn’t want any ‘cause, y’know.” He gestured to James’ half-full tankard.
“You’re right, don’t worry.”
James took a quick gulp of his drink before smiling sheepishly at Harry.
“Sorry, spaced out for a bit. I was thinking about what you said.”
“S’alright. Did the same, didn’t I?” His face grew curious, “What were you thinking about?”
James probably shouldn’t have been blunt about it —
“Just something your mum said.”
But, he was never one for subtlety. And Harry seemingly wasn’t in denial of his feelings anyway.
“Is it Ron? Do you fancy Ron?”
Harry went oddly still for a moment before speaking again. “How d’you know?” he asked. He didn’t sound genuinely curious, as if he already knew the answer. He probably did.
“Your mum is an observant woman,” James replied with a smile. “Your little thing over Christmas was a pretty big clue too though, even I noticed. Didn’t know what it meant — but I noticed!”
“Alright, alright. I fancy Ron and I’m very obvious about it,” he said, rolling his eyes. “But thanks for listening.”
James frowned, “Listening? Well, yeah, of course. But don’t you want to tell him you like him? I thought that was why you told me.”
“Tell him I fancy him?” Harry sounded horrified, “I can’t do that.”
“Oh? Why not?”
“What if he hates me for it? Or he doesn’t like me back, or he likes someone else, or —”
“Harry,” James said, cutting him off. “That’s not going to happen. Ron’s your best friend, a true best friend would never hate you for that. If he doesn’t feel the same way, I know it’ll hurt but...look on the bright side. At least he’ll still be your best friend, yeah?”
“ Yeah , but…” Harry broke off and buried his face in his hands. James leaned back into his seat, looking at him carefully. One might’ve expected him to be annoyed, but James only felt guilty — he wished he could be a bit more helpful at that moment.
“I’m scared,” said Harry, catching James’ attention. “I’m scared that it’ll hurt too much if he says he doesn’t feel the same way.”
James stared into worried green eyes thoughtfully, wondering what to say. Should he reassure him that no, Ron most likely felt the same way? No. Probably not.
“Well,” he said, breaking the silence that had fallen over them. “I’d be scared too if I was you. But I would tell him anyway.” He swallowed down the last of his butterbeer and pushed the tankard away. “You know why?”
“Why?”
“‘Cause maybe, he likes me back. And I don’t wanna lose all that I could possibly have because of fear.”
Harry said nothing, but James knew he was going over his words again. So he stayed quiet. He hoped what he said would help Harry with his ‘I-fancy-my-best-mate’ problem.
“Thanks, Dad. I just needed to get it off my chest but...I’ll think about what you said.”
James smiled, “I’m glad. Are you going back now?”
“Yeah, I am.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a few sickles to place on the table.
“I’ll walk you back?”
“Sure,” Harry replied.
A few minutes later they were standing near Honeydukes, Harry pulling out the Marauder’s Map and invisibility cloak from his coat’s pockets.
“Am I gonna get in trouble for sneaking out here?” Harry asked, pulling the cloak on. He would’ve found the sight of a floating head with no body weird and slightly creepy if he wasn’t used to seeing Sirius, Remus and occasionally Lily like that.
“Not this time.’
Harry smiled, “You’re the best.”
James grinned and ruffled Harry’s hair, “I try.”
“I’ll go now,” he said, covering himself with his invisibility cloak. “See you.”
He waved at Harry — or where he thought Harry was, at least. “Take care of yourself!” James called out.
“You too.”
And then he was gone, leaving James standing there. He thought of simply going back home, but decided on going to his best friends’ house instead. Lily was probably taking a nap, and James needed something to take his mind off Harry and Ron.
He closed his eyes and in seconds, he had apparated away.
~~~
James woke up to the sound of something tapping at the window continuously. Squinting, he rolled around and winced as the sunlight greeted his eyes, much too bright for this time of day, James thought. He quickly rolled back and buried his face in his wife’s comforting red locks, sighing happily at the scent. Unfortunately for him, the tapping didn’t stop.
“Can’t let a man sleep,” James grumbled to himself, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. He pushed the duvet away and got off the bed. Surprisingly, Hedwig was the one tapping on their window.
He quickly opened the window and let her fly onto his arm. She let out an irritated hoot, looking away when all James could do was grimace apologetically.
“Sorry, Hedwig. I’ll just take that…”
“Who’s it from?” said Lily from behind him.
“Harry,” James replied, looking at her. “Did I wake you up?”
She shook her head, “I was already kind of awake. I was waiting for you to go and check out the tapping.”
James shook his head, “I should’ve known.”
Lily smirked at him.
“What did he say?”
“Dunno,” he replied, climbing back onto the bed. Lily shifted closer to him and peered down at his lap as his fingers deftly opened the letter.
Dear Dad (and Mum since you’re probably there too),
I’m sending this to you at one something in the morning, so this will probably reach you while you’re sleeping and wake you up. Sorry about that, but I thought about what you said the other day, and you were right. So I did it. I told him. Probably one of the best decisions of my life so far, considering Ron and I are dating now. You’re the best. I’m not sure how to thank you for basically telling me to not be an idiot, so I’m sending you this with a picture I reckon you’ll like.
Love,
Harry
“It’s a baby deer.”
“He sent you a baby deer.”
James and Lily looked at each other and then back at the letter. “Should we be more proud of him for telling Ron or for sending you a picture of a baby deer?”
“Just…just admire his nerve.”