what to say, ask away
Harry can’t see much besides the black fabric of his Dad’s shirt, being trapped in the possibly longest embrace he’d ever shared with somebody, or well, two people to be precise— his parents.
He’s never felt very comfortable with hugs, probably because he just isn’t used to getting any, so when his Dad had asked to give him one the first time, he’d been nervous.
Perhaps he still is.
But he’s also really happy.
Because these are his parents hugging him. And as nice as that goodbye hug Mrs. Weasley had given him had felt back at King’s Cross, being hugged by his own Mum and Dad is just so much better.
He really doesn’t want to muck this up.
His parents let go of him eventually, and he catches them smiling at each other.
Then his Mum takes his hand, gently tugging him with her as she walks over to one of the beds. “Sit down, sweetheart,” she offers, patting the mattress next to her. “We’re so curious to hear all about you, your life, your friends…and, well, anything you’d feel comfortable telling us.” she glances at him hopefully. “And if you’ve got any questions, we’d love to answer them, of course.”
Harry tries to think of something, but, well, his life isn’t really worth telling them about, he thinks, nor is anything about him. So he settles for the only interesting thing about him he can think of; his friends.
“Um, I’m good friends with a boy from my dormitory,” he replies. “His name is Ron. Ron Weasley. He’s really great, oh, and he’s in Gryffindor as well.”
His Dad’s eyes light up behind his glasses. “As well?” he quotes. “You’re in Gryffindor?”
Harry nods, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, why?”
He feels his Mum’s hand on his back. “That’s where we went too.” she tells him happily.
Harry’s eyes widen. He hadn’t even thought about where his parents might’ve been sorted when they’d been at Hogwarts. “Really?” he asks.
“Yeah!” his Dad bursts out, the excitement making his eyes gleam. “It’s great, isn’t it? I’ve always loved the common room — and Minnie, I mean, Professor Mcgonagall of course.” he winks at his Mum. “She loved me.”
“Oh please,” his Mum snorts. “You and Sirius were the reason she started locking up her office.”
Harry has so many questions already. Why did Professor Mcgonagall have to lock her office? he can imagine it is because his Dad might’ve been a bit of a prankster. Did his parents fall in love at Hogwarts? Were they friends before?
But one other question comes to mind that trumps the others. “Who is Sirius?”
His Mum’s hand on his back abruptly stops moving. He watches her look to his Dad, who runs his hand nervously through his hair.
“He’s my best mate.” his Dad explains at last, though Harry thinks he doesn’t really sound too happy about it.
“I didn’t mean to make you sad—“
“Oh, Harry, no,” his Dad quickly waves him off. “You didn’t. We just— well, we found out it’s been hard for him, these past years. That’s why it’s a bit difficult to tell you about him,” he meets his eyes then, sparing him a smile. “But he’s great. You’ll like him. And he’ll definitely love you.” he smiles. “He’s your godfather, you know.”
Harry’s mouth falls open. “My godfather?” he asks.
“Yeah,” his Mum chimes in. “You used to see him everyday before…we went into hiding. You loved playing with him,” she chuckles. “He used to do this thing, he called it…um…”
“Catch the Snitch.” James complies amusedly.
“Exactly. He’d throw you up high into the air before catching you again, and every time, he’d roar ‘a thousand points for Gryffindor’, making you squeal with laughter,” his Mum rolls her eyes affectionately. “You absolutely loved it.”
“And you absolutely hated it.” his Dad laughs. “Your Mum once got so angry when him and I threw you between us, she actually grounded him.”
Harry snorts. “So you used me as the golden snitch?”
“Unfortunately.” his Mum replies. “I seriously thought I’d grow grey hair before I was twenty five with those two around.”
Harry hides a grin, though poorly enough for his Dad to see it. He winks at him, before waving his Mum off easily. “You loved us playing with Harry.” he tells her. “Besides, it’s not like you were outnumbered. I remember Moony usually siding with you. Like two worried peas in a pot.”
“Moony?” Harry asks curiously. “That’s a strange name.”
“It’s just a nickname,” his Dad explains. “My friends and I all had one. Moony’s actual name is Remus. I hope you’ll get to meet him soon. He’s great.”
“You’ll like him, Harry.” his Mum assures. “He’s very smart, and much less boisterous than your Dad.”
“Uff, straight through the heart there, Lil.” his Dad groans. “But yeah, she’s right. Remus has always been the quiet one of us.”
“Some call it humble, dear.” Lily implies.
Harry snickers at his Dad’s eye roll. “What’s your nickname then, Dad?” he asks curiously. “And what made you guys pick out the names you got?”
His parents both chuckle. “You’re a nosy one, aren’t you?” his Dad teases. “I’m Prongs. Sirius, your godfather, he’s Padfoot, you know about Moony, and—“
“And they used to get into so much trouble, they spent half their time time at Hogwartsin detention.” his Mum interferes, and though her words were a tease, the way she’s looking at his Dad tells Harry that there’s something they aren’t saying.
He wants to ask, but thinks that maybe their first day together isn’t the best time to push any possible buttons. That usually never ended well for him.
His Dad catches onto whatever silent conversation they just had. “Nah, it wasn’t that bad,” he says. “Maybe a third.”
Harry snickers, whilst his Mum clicks her tongue at his Dad.
“Anyhow,” she goes on, glancing back at Harry. “Tell us about your friend! Ron, is it? You said his last name is Weasley?” she taps her chin. “I wonder if he’s related to Fabian and Gideon Prewett — I believe they'd told us once about their sister getting married to a man with the last name Weasley. You see, Harry, your Dad and I used to, um, work with them.”
“I can ask him.” Harry replies. “He’s got a huge family — six siblings, I think. They’re all really close too.”
Lily’s smile falters a bit at that. “That’s wonderful, darling.”
“Well, the Weasleys were always a nice family.” James implies fondly. “I really liked Fabian and Gideon. If your friend Ron’s anything like them, I think you’re really lucky, Harry.”
Harry smiles at his Dad.
“And anybody who’s your friend is just as lucky, Harry.” his Mother chimes in.
He blushes, not quite used to receiving such compliments. “Um, thanks.”
He looks to his hands for a moment, desperately thinking of something more to say, maybe something he could compliment her with, but for some reason, his mind doesn’t seem able to come up with anything good.
He doesn’t know her, after all, nor his Dad.
There’s an awkward sort of pause between them, which feels like ages to Harry, before mercifully; “So…how about school?” his Mum asks, the hick in her voice giving away that she too had noticed the awkwardness. “Anything you enjoy the most? A favourite subject perhaps or—“
“Or quidditch?” James interrupts, his eyes suddenly wide and excited, almost as though he’d just remembered something. “D’you like it? Have there been any good matches so far? How’s Gryffindor’s team doing these—“
“James.” Lily snaps, kicking his Dad’s shin with her foot. “Stop pestering him, maybe Harry’s not interested in quidditch. Not everyone has to be.”
Harry watches his Father’s wide smile falter and then crumble into something like regret. “Sorry, Harry.” he sighs. “I get too excited, but your Mum’s right…you might not like—“
“I do.” Harry replies quickly. “I like quidditch.”
At that, his Dad’s face lights up once more. “Really?” he asks, almost as though it were too good to be true.
Harry nods, excited to finally have found some common ground with one of his parents.
He can hear his Mother sigh. She sounds anything but delighted, Harry reckons.
In opposition to his Dad, who seems just as excited as him. “It’s great, isn’t it? Have you ever played?”
Harry nods again, glancing sideways to Lily, just shortly, before answering his Dad. “Actually…I’ve just made the team.”
Not even saucers were round enough to describe the size of his Dad’s eyes.
“What?”
Funny enough; it was his Mother who gasped. “You’ve made the team?” she asks, her voice suddenly sharp and unfamiliar— or, well, actually…she doesn’t sound all that unfamiliar, Harry realises uncomfortably.
“Yeah?” he admits carefully.
“Calm down, Lil,” his Dad chuckles. “No need to throw jinxes.”
Harry isn’t sure what’s funny, because he is suddenly rather scared of his Mother’s tense glare — for the first time since he’s first seen her, Harry can see a sort of similarity to his aunt.
He rather wishes he hadn’t.
His Mother looks like she wants to argue, her green eyes flashing as she glances at James. “I am calm,” she grits out, though even Harry can tell she’s working on every last bit of her patience. “I just think there’s a good reason why first years usually don’t get picked for the school teams.”
His Dad looks more amused than anything, which makes Harry wonder for his sanity. “Seems our son’s got a real talent then.” he smiles widely at Harry. “He’s my kid, after all.”
Lily scoffs, though Harry is pretty sure he saw her lips twitch up. “Stop boasting, James.”
She turns to Harry, and instantly her eyes soften. “But…I suppose your Dad’s right. I’m sure you’re a wonderful player, Harry.”
Although she’s smiling now, Harry thinks she still doesn’t look very convinced. With a sudden drift of momentary bravery, he reaches out to touch her hand. “I’m alright, I think.” he shrugs. “Maybe…you could come to my next game? You and Dad?”
His Mother’s hesitation is gone within the second, replaced by the brightest of smiles. “We’d love to!” she agrees instantly, and maybe a tad too loudly, before suddenly she’s leaning in to pull him into a tight hug.
“Just, be safe, alright?”
“Sure, Mum.” Harry agrees, glancing over her shoulder at his Dad. At James’s knowing look, he dares a cheeky smile.
“Well done.” his Dad mouthes, grinning brightly from ear to ear.