Tentative

Chapter 2: The sun

Chapter 2.

The wild unknown deck.

Sometimes it's easy to forget that Harry is still a child. He turns two years old quickly, winter melting into spring and then summer in a rush. But the child makes sure to remind everyone he is as much of a kid as anyone around him.

"Pretty," Harry says, showing a bright orange mass to Voldemort. "Pretty, pretty."

He has been working all day with play dough, trying to make something still unidentified. The dough was a gift from Black, who had gotten Harry a pack of different colored ones, and the child seems mesmerised by it.

"It is very pretty, Harry," Lord Voldemort concedes. Harry grins up at him, and then goes back to look at his little orange mess.

"Thank you," he says, shaking the clay in his hands up and down. He looks as if he has already forgotten the Dark Lord is in front of him, so concentrated he is in this new, interesting thing.

"You are very welcomed," Voldemort says as the child walks away from him.

Lily Potter enters the room with a stack of plates and starts setting the table. In the kitchen, James Potter sings disturbingly out of tune as he cooks.

"Who are you talking to, Harry, honey?" Harry looks up at her smiling, squeezing the dough.

"Pretty," he repeats, showing her the clay. He does a little dance in front of her, and stomps his feet when she doesn't answer right away. Lily crouches down.

"It's beautiful," she laughs before running her fingers over Harry's face and hair, playful and sweet. "But not as much as you, huh? My handsome, handsome boy."

Harry chuckles in delight as his mother snuggles him and starts to kiss his face.

"Mum!" he protests, laughing and half-heartedly trying to get away. He tries to escape her nuzzels with a high pitched squeal, but Lily hugs him close to her chest. She ruffles Harry's hair and kisses the top of his head.

"I can hug you all I want." Lily sticks her tongue out at Harry. "You are my son, and if I want to kiss you I will!"

Harry is delighted, the orange clay apparently forgotten for a while. They paint a picture-perfect family, the Dark Lord suddenly thinks. Like the ones he used to see in the newspaper when he lived in London. Like the ones Tom Riddle had envied, back then. It's a one-second thought, but it throws him off, enough so he looks away from the scene.

"What about your poor husband," James' voice interrupts them from the kitchen. "No kisses for him?"

Harry hug's his mother's leg, demanding to be held, and she picks him up. As they enter the kitchen, the couple already bickering in that way they seem to like, Lord Voldemort watches them leave. Harry has his little arms around Lily's neck, looking content and happy.

Lord Voldemort frowns, and leaves.

-00-

"Say 'bye' to Mummy, Harry." James is standing at the door frame, Harry in his arms. "Tell her to brings us all nice things, yes? No more green peas, right?"

"No peas!" Harry exclaims, and Lily laughs.

"Stop teaching him those things, James. Grocery shopping is hard enough already." She puts on a hat over her red locks and waves goodbye at Harry.

"Mummy bye-bye," the child says, distracted.

Lord Voldemort watches her leave, her small frame disappearing behind the fog of the house wards. Dumbledore has yet to drop most wards around the Potters and, although now they take turns to leave the house, Harry is still not allowed out. Dumbledore is keeping a very close eye on them, and Lord Voldemort can't really put his finger on what makes Dumbledore this paranoid. It's as if he knows Harry was the real chosen one, the real choice. Voldemort makes a mental note to schedule an attack on the Longbottom's Manor. Make sure he points Dumbledore's keen eyes back to the other child. Right now, he has other things to worry about.