Horcrux || James Potter

Unsolicited Advice

"So ..." James bounced on his toes. "Welcome to Lupin Residency."

A small, warm cottage was in front of them — James (our 'humble' narrator), his absolutely stunning about-to-be wife Lily, and his 17 year-old son, Harry 'Prongslet' Potter. Oh, and Teddy, who was currently ... somewhere.

"Moony'll be out any time now," he kept on bouncing, not sure what to say to his son, the one that didn't even exist at that point. Probably not the best conversation starter, but Lily'd started to warm up to their son (it felt wonderful to just think that word) and he really wanted the 'best stag ever' mug Padfoot promised him.

"Hey, Harry," he called out, 'cause they were currently admiring Hope's beautiful flowers (which'd almost dried up after she, you know, died). He did mention the flowers, right? Whatever. His son — gosh, this was never gonna grow old — turned to face him, apprehensive and confused. (All big words provided courtesy of our resident werewolf. Moving on). "When's your birthday?"

"Er ... 31st August?" he answered, turning very quickly over to the wilting flowers. Lily shot him an apologetic look, which he brushed off. Even though he felt a bit rejected. ("Did not!" "You did, Prongs. I saw that from the window").

Now let's zoom into Harry's conversation with Lily. (Courtesy of an eavesdropping werewolf).

He'd warmed up to Lily. She had this warm, welcoming aura around her, and as soon as they met, it was as if she knew — Harry was super anxious about meeting his dad, the man he'd idolised since he could think. How was he supposed to talk to the James Potter? ("You idolised me!" "Come on, Dad. Focus on the eavesdropping werewolf, not me.")

"You know," Lily whispered quietly, "he's just as nervous as you about it. Look at his face."

Harry acquiesced, and saw a very nervous-looking James Potter, waving energetically as soon as their eyes met.

"Hey, Harry. You play Quidditch?"

He nodded quickly, not trusting his mouth to speak. Turning again to Lily, he missed James' crestfallen look. "I can't do it, Lily -Mum."

"Just call me Lily," she smiled warmly. "I'm about your age now, after all."

Harry smiled back. It was pleasantly disconcerting, to finally meet your parents — who were supposed to be dead. Just then, he spied a determined James striding towards them, probably to capture Harry for a heart-to-heart conversation.

"Hey, Harry! Ever played the mandolin? I'm a pro. Hey, I can teach you — arrrgh ..."

Harry started, alarmed, just to see Remus bowl James over. Typical.
A part of him was glad Remus came, and another part really wanted him to Gryffindor up and talk to his dad.

"I'm an idiot," he muttered, glancing longingly towards his dad's retreating figure. Moony, with his excellent werewolf hearing, was able to listen to every word Harry was saying — while keeping James out of hearing distance. ("Why Moony. Why? The betrayal!" "Come on, Prongs! Stop punctuating the book with present day, irrelevant dialogues." "I for one, am with my best-est mate in this. Keep up the good work, my honest knight!" "I am surrounded by idiots." — Lily Potter).

"What is it, Moony?" James was irritated, to say the least. His master plan of eavesdropping on his about-to-be wife and son went down the drain due to a certain interfering werewolf. ("Why are you using to word 'werewolf' so many times, Prongs?" "I'm the writer, Moony. And it's boring to keep on writing 'Remus' and 'him' and 'Moony' all the time.").

"You know what, Prongs? Stop trying to force yourself on Harry. Poor bloke just time-travelled 18 years in the past. And you both are supposed to be dead. Probably a big shocker for him," Moony patted his best mate's shoulder.