Chapter 7
The soft rhythm of Rodeo’s hooves against the ground was like a lullaby to Harry. He sat in the saddle with a peaceful expression, the tension he had been carrying for weeks melting away. The fresh air, the warm sun on his face, and the gentle sway of Rodeo’s walk felt like a gift he didn’t want to end.
Regulus, however, stood nearby with his arms crossed, his sharp gray eyes fixed on his son. It had been ten minutes, and he wasn’t about to let Harry push his luck.
“Alright, Harry,” Regulus said, his voice firm but not unkind. “Time’s up. Let’s head back to the barn.”
Harry turned in the saddle, his green eyes wide and pleading. “Papa, can I please have a bit longer? Just another ten minutes? Please?”
Regulus’s expression softened slightly, but he shook his head. “Harry, we agreed on ten minutes for a reason. I don’t want you overexerting yourself.”
“I’m not overexerting myself,” Harry countered, his tone earnest. “I feel fine, I promise. This is the most relaxed I’ve felt in months. Just a little longer, Papa. Please?”
Harrison, who had been quietly observing, stepped in to mediate. “Regulus, he does look good out here,” he said, glancing at Harry’s calm demeanor. “Another ten minutes at this pace shouldn’t hurt, as long as he’s careful.”
Regulus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He glanced up at Harry, who was watching him with hopeful eyes. “Fine,” he relented, his tone reluctant. “But only ten more minutes, Harry. And if I see even a hint of discomfort, we’re stopping immediately.”
Harry beamed, his smile lighting up his face. “Thank you, Papa! I promise I’ll be careful.”
The next ten minutes passed in quiet contentment. Rodeo’s steady walk took them around the pasture again, the mare occasionally flicking her ears back as if listening to Harry’s voice as he murmured softly to her.
“I missed this so much,” Harry said, his tone wistful. “It feels like everything’s been so chaotic lately, but out here, it’s just me and Rodeo. No lectures, no stress—just peace.”
Regulus walked alongside him, his sharp eyes scanning Harry’s posture and movements for any sign of strain. Though he didn’t say it aloud, he could see the truth in Harry’s words. His son looked more at ease now than he had in weeks, and that alone made Regulus’s reluctant agreement worth it.
“You’ve been through a lot,” Regulus said after a moment, his tone softer than before. “I understand why this is important to you. But you need to remember that it’s not just about you anymore, Harry. The baby’s health comes first.”
“I know, Papa,” Harry said, his voice quiet but sincere. “I promise I’m not trying to be reckless. I just… I needed this. I needed to feel like myself again, even if it’s just for a little while.”
Regulus nodded, his lips curving into a small smile. “I can understand that.”
Harrison chuckled from the other side of Rodeo. “You’ve always been stubborn, Harry. But sometimes that stubbornness works in your favor.”
Harry grinned, the warmth of his uncle’s words bolstering his spirits. “It’s a family trait, isn’t it? Stubbornness runs in our blood.”
“That it does,” Harrison agreed, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement.
As the second ten minutes drew to a close, Harry reluctantly guided Rodeo back toward the barn. The mare seemed just as content as her rider, her steps slow and steady.
“Alright,” Regulus said, standing near the stall door as Harry dismounted with Harrison’s help. “That’s enough for today. Let’s get you inside to rest.”
Harry groaned playfully, leaning against Rodeo for a moment. “I feel fine, Papa. Really. Can’t I stay out here a little longer?”
“No,” Regulus said firmly, though his tone was laced with affection. “You’ve had your extra time. Now, let’s not push it.”
Harrison nodded in agreement. “You’ve had a good ride, Harry. Let’s end it on a high note before you overdo it.”
Harry sighed but didn’t argue further. Instead, he leaned down to stroke Rodeo’s neck, murmuring softly to her. “Thanks for today, girl. You always make things better.”
Rodeo nickered, nudging Harry’s hand as if in response.
Once they returned to the house, Harry flopped onto the couch with a contented sigh. His cheeks were slightly flushed from the fresh air, and there was a spark of happiness in his eyes that hadn’t been there in weeks.
“That was perfect,” he said, stretching out his legs. “Thank you for letting me go.”
Regulus sat down beside him, a glass of water in hand. “Don’t thank me too much,” he said with a smirk. “You’ve still got to take it easy for the rest of the day.”
“I will,” Harry promised, sipping the water.
James joined them, his hazel eyes scanning Harry for any sign of fatigue. “How are you feeling now?” he asked, sitting on the arm of the couch.
“Better,” Harry said honestly. “Rodeo always makes me feel better.”
James smiled, ruffling Harry’s hair. “I’m glad. But listen to your papa—no overdoing it. We’re in the home stretch now, and we want you and the baby to stay healthy.”
Harry nodded, his hand resting instinctively on his belly. “I know, Dad. I’ll be careful.”
Regulus exchanged a glance with James, both of them silently agreeing that, despite their initial hesitation, allowing Harry the ride had been the right decision. Seeing him relaxed and happy again was worth the risk—within reason.
As the family settled into the rest of the day, Harry couldn’t help but feel grateful. He knew his parents worried about him constantly, but their love and support made everything easier to bear. And though his time in the saddle had been brief, it had reminded him of who he was and what he was capable of.
For now, that was enough.
The evening air had turned cool, and the Potter-Black household had settled into its usual rhythm. Harry lay stretched out on the couch, a blanket draped over him as he tried to find a comfortable position. The ride earlier that day had been everything he’d hoped for, filling him with a sense of peace and normalcy. But now, his body was making him pay for it.
“Dad, Papa!” Harry called out, his voice tinged with frustration and discomfort.
Regulus appeared first, stepping into the room with a book in hand. “What is it, Harry?” he asked, his sharp gray eyes narrowing in concern.
“My legs hurt,” Harry complained, shifting restlessly on the couch. “They’re cramping up so bad. Can you help?”
James entered just as Harry finished speaking, his hazel eyes darting between his son and his husband. “Cramping?” James repeated, moving to sit on the edge of the couch. “Where, love?”
“Everywhere,” Harry groaned, gripping the blanket. “My calves, my thighs—it’s like everything is locking up.”
Regulus knelt beside the couch, setting his book aside. “Alright, let’s see if we can ease this up.” He gently placed his hands on Harry’s leg, his long fingers beginning to knead the tight muscles of Harry’s calf.
Harry whimpered, his body tensing under the pressure. “It hurts, Papa.”
“I know,” Regulus said softly, his voice calm and reassuring. “But we need to work through the cramps. Just breathe, Harry.”
James placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. “You overdid it today, didn’t you?” he asked, though his tone was more teasing than admonishing.
Harry nodded, a small, sheepish smile breaking through his grimace. “Maybe a little. But it was worth it.”
“Worth it, huh?” James said, chuckling. “You always push yourself too far.”
“Runs in the family,” Harry muttered, earning a grin from his dad.
Regulus continued working on Harry’s legs, his hands firm but careful as he massaged the knotted muscles. Slowly, the tension began to ease, and Harry let out a shaky sigh of relief.
“That’s better,” Harry murmured, closing his eyes. “Thanks, Papa.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” Regulus said, his gaze still focused on Harry’s legs. “We’ve got to keep an eye on this. Overexertion can lead to more than just cramps, Harry.”
Harry opened one eye, giving his papa a mock pout. “Are you going to give me a lecture?”
Regulus smirked, though his tone remained gentle. “Not tonight. But don’t think you’re getting off the hook entirely.”
Before Harry could respond, another sharp pain shot through his abdomen, making him gasp. His hand flew to his belly, and his body curled slightly as he whimpered.
“Harry?” Regulus’s voice sharpened with concern, his hands stilling immediately.
“My stomach,” Harry said through gritted teeth. “The cramps… they’re moving to my stomach.”
James was instantly on his feet, his hazel eyes wide with worry. “Harrison!” he called, his voice ringing through the house.
Regulus moved closer to Harry, his hands hovering uncertainly over his son. “Where does it hurt, Harry? Is it the baby?”
“I—I don’t know,” Harry stammered, tears welling in his eyes. “It’s like this tightening feeling. It hurts, Papa.”
Harrison arrived moments later, his healer’s bag already in hand. “What’s going on?” he asked briskly, taking in the scene with practiced calm.
“His legs were cramping earlier,” Regulus explained, his voice tight. “I was massaging them, and now the cramps have moved to his stomach. He says it feels tight.”
Harrison nodded, his hands moving quickly as he pulled out a diagnostic spell. “Alright, Harry, stay as still as you can,” he said, his voice soothing. “Let me take a look.”
Harry nodded, clutching Regulus’s hand as Harrison waved his wand over him, the soft hum of magic filling the room. The spell created a faint glow around Harry’s abdomen, and Harrison’s face remained impassive as he studied the results.
“It’s Braxton Hicks contractions,” Harrison said after a moment, his tone calm.
“What?” James asked, his brow furrowing.
“They’re practice contractions,” Harrison explained. “Completely normal at this stage of pregnancy. They’re your body’s way of preparing for labor, but they’re not dangerous.”
“Not dangerous?” Harry echoed, his voice shaky. “It feels like my body’s trying to tear itself apart.”
Harrison smiled faintly, reaching into his bag for a vial of potion. “They can be uncomfortable, but they’re harmless. This potion will help relax your muscles and ease the cramps. You just need to rest and stay hydrated.”
Regulus helped Harry sit up slightly, supporting him as Harrison handed him the potion. Harry drank it quickly, grimacing at the bitter taste but grateful for the relief it promised.
“Thanks, Uncle Harrison,” Harry murmured, sinking back into the pillows as the potion began to take effect.
“You’re welcome, kiddo,” Harrison said, packing up his bag. “But take this as a sign that you need to slow down. Your body is working overtime right now, and you can’t afford to push yourself like you did today.”
“I get it,” Harry said, his voice soft but sincere. “No more overdoing it.”
As the evening wore on, Harry’s cramps subsided, and he began to feel more like himself. Regulus stayed by his side, his hand never leaving Harry’s, while James brought him water and small bites of food to keep his energy up.
“I hate being this useless,” Harry muttered at one point, his green eyes clouded with frustration.
“You’re not useless,” Regulus said firmly, his thumb brushing over Harry’s knuckles. “You’re creating a life, Harry. That’s the farthest thing from useless.”
“Papa’s right,” James added, sitting on the edge of the couch. “You’re doing something incredible, and it’s okay to lean on us when you need to. That’s what we’re here for.”
Harry sighed, his shoulders relaxing as their words sank in. “Thanks,” he said softly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I don’t say it enough, but I really do appreciate everything you do for me.”
Regulus leaned down, pressing a kiss to Harry’s forehead. “You don’t have to thank us, Harry. We love you.”
“And we’re in this together,” James added, his hand resting on Harry’s shoulder.
As the family settled in for the night, Harry felt a sense of comfort and security that eased the lingering tension in his body. The road ahead might still be challenging, but with his family by his side, he knew he could face anything.