Lily is holding Harry’s hand as she leads him down the familiar cobblestone street in Cokeworth - leading up to her childhood home.
They’re on their way to visit her parents, Harry’s grandparents, for their traditional end summer’s family dinner.
Despite knowing it meant spending multiple hours watching her words as to not agitate her sister, she’s been looking forward to this the entire week.
“Why isn’t Dad coming?” Harry asks her as they stroll along the stalls of Cokeworth’s weeky market. Lily looks down into his green eyes, smiling somewhat sadly.
“Remember your uncle Vernon?” she asks, trying her best not to let her dislike of her brother-in-law seep through her voice.
“Yeah?”
“Well, they don’t really get along so well…that’s why it’s just gonna be us, your aunt and your cousin visiting this time.” she explains patiently, squeezing his little fingers.
Harry’s brows knit into a little frown. “Oh, okay. But Dudley doesn’t like me either, so why do I have to go?”
Lily raises a dark red eyebrow at her son. “Because Grandma and Granddad are really excited to see you,” she replies, nudging his shoulder. “And we can spend some time, just us.”
Lily is probably most excited about that. Well, and visiting her parents, of course.
“We always spend time just us, Mum.” Harry replies a bit impatiently, his eyes traveling along the brick houses.
Lily feels her chest tighten at how grown up he can sometimes sound. God, he is growing up, and fast too…way too fast if you ask her. How can he already be eight?
“Oh come on now, bean, chin up,” she replies cheerily. “You’re not old enough yet to be so sulky.”
“I’m eight, Mum.” Harry replies as a way of reason. “I’m almost grown up.”
“Ah yes, of course. I’m sorry, Mr. Potter.” Lily chuckles, tugging him closer to her side by the hand. “You’re so grown up!”
Harry giggles at her overly dramatic voice, before his eyes fall onto the house just a few feet away. “We’re here!” he exclaims and without further ado he lets go of her hand, sprinting past the garden fence towards the front door of her parents’ house.
Lily can only chuckle as she watches how her Dad opens the door just a second after he’s rang the bell, instantly swiping his grandson up into the air.
“Look at you! You’ve grown a bunch ey?” he says loudly, a wide grin on his face. “You’ll be as tall as yer Dad soon, little fella.”
Harry flashes him a bright smile as he’s being set down again, and nods proudly.
As Lily catches up, she smiles, her eyes meeting her Dad’s identical ones. “Hi Dad.” she greets him with a kiss to his cheek.
“Hullo, love. It’s so good to see you.” her Dad replies happily, cupping her cheek with his warm hand, before looking back down at Harry. “And the little man, here, of course.” he winks.
“I’m not little granddad.” Harry huffs, to which both Lily and her Dad chuckle.
She reaches down to flatten Harry’s curls, though to no avail, as always. “No, darling, you’re not.” she crouches down to his level, peking his cheek. “You’re my big boy.”
Harry squirms away from her with a groan, his cheeks reddening with slight embarrassment. “Mum!”
“Oi now little man, what’s granddad always say? - A good lad listens to his Mammy, eh?” her Dad says in mock seriousness, though his lips tug into a smile.
Lily snickers a little as he winks at her, before she’s tackled by Harry’s arms around her neck. “Yes granddad.” he says, pressing his cheek against Lily’s.
Lily smiles at the unexpected hug, wrapping her arms tightly around Harry’s little body for a moment, before letting him go. “I think your grandma would like one of those hugs as well, bean.” she says, gently patting his back to usher him inside the house.
As Harry goes to greet her Mum, she takes off her coat, handing it gratefully to her Dad.
“Oh, Lily,” her Mum gushes as she approaches her, having sent Harry ahead into the kitchen. “You look so well, sweetheart.”
“Hi Mum,” Lily replies, wrapping her arms around her Mother’s back and peking her cheek. “You too, are you doing alright?”
Her Mother lets go of her, smiling brightly as she studies her up and down. “Oh, we’re alright, dear. Even better now that I have my girls here.”
“Come on, let’s get you a drink,” her Dad says, leading them all into the kitchen, where Harry is already sat at the counter, his legs dangling in the air. “Wine good?” her Dad asks, holding the bottle up.
Lily nods, walking over to stand next to Harry. “Perfect, thanks Dad.” she replies as she leans over the counter on her elbows. “Is Tuney here yet?”
“I am.” comes what’s clearly her sister’s voice from behind her. Lily turns around to see Petunia walking in from the open living area, already holding her almost empty glass. “We’ve arrived half an hour ago, right on time.” she raises a dainty, blond eyebrow.
Lily ignores the clear jab at her for being late and instead greets her older sister with a wide smile. “You look great Tuney,” she says, hoping the flattery would somewhat cease her sister’s cold demeanor. “Blue suits you.”
“Doesn’t it? I’ve told her the same thing.” their Mother quips, making the two turn back to look at her.
“Well, thank you. You look…well yourself.” Petunia replies a bit stiffly, but Lily’ll take it.
“Thank you - oh! Look at you!” Lily’s attention shifts, noticing the blond boy hiding behind his Mother’s legs. “Hello Dudley, you’ve grown so much!”
Indeed he had. Though not necessarily in height…Lily can’t help but see a little copy of his Father in her nephew.
Poor boy.
“How’re you doing?” she asks kindly as she crouches down to give Dudley a hug.
He barely returns it, evidently not having expected her to reach out, but smiles back nonetheless, if a bit uncertainly. “Good.” he replies, before looking up at Petunia.
“He”s just started boxing - an extracurricular his school provides.” Petunia says proudly as Lily gets back to her feet. “He’s rather talented at it, aren’t you Duddy?”
Lily watches her nephew drop all of his former shyness as he proudly nods his head, walking up towards where his grandmother had already prepared a glass of juice for him, and sitting down next to Harry.
“I can already train with the boys a year above me.”
Lily isn’t entirely sure that’s a good thing, though she doesn’t say so.
“Boxing ey? Didn’t know they’d teach that at primary schools.” her Dad says.
“Isn’t it a bit too violent for a boy Dudley’s age?” her Mum adds.
Lily can practically feel Petunia’s irritation expanding within the room. “I’m sure his trainer knows what they’re doing.” she placates, before her sister could snap.
“What’re you doing at boxing?” Harry pipes up, looking at his cousin with interest. “Is it fun?”
“It’s the best.” Dudley replies a bit smugly. “You kick and punch and learn how to fight.”
Harry looks at his cousin with what could only be described as confused apprehension. “Like…with other people?” he asks, his expression showing his discomfort.
“No, I mean the really good ones fight for real - with each other, but we’ve got punch bags.” Dudley shrugs, clearly a bit disappointed that he can’t yet compete in bodily fights.
“It’s a bit like…like dueling, darling, just without wands.” Lily explains.
And something that probably shouldn’t be taught to a little boy like her nephew. - is what she doesn’t say.
“What’s dueling?” Dudley asks curiously, but before Lily or Harry can answer, Petunia interrupts their conversation. “Nothing, Duddykins. Now, Mum, do you need help with dinner?”
“Oh, no, no. I’ve got it covered, dear.” their Mum answers from behind the counter, where she’s busy portioning her homemade shepherds pie onto her good porcelain plates. “Boys, go ahead and sit down, will you?”
As the two cousins rush to the table, followed by the others, Lily quickly jumps in to help her Mother with the plates.
She places one each in front of Harry and Dudley, before sitting down next to her son. “Looks amazing, Mum.” she says once everyone’s seated.
“Thank you, Lily dear.”
As they start eating, the scraping of cutlery is quickly drowned out by her Dad asking the boys about their lessons.
Dudley, of course, is all too eager to tell them all about it. “It’s going great, granddad, we’re learning about the vikings in history. But break time’s my favorite - Pierce and I’ve made some friends with the older boys, you know.” he puffs out his chest, before taking a bite of his food.
“Sounds great, lad.” her Dad replies with a smile, before turning to Harry. “And what about you, Harry?”
Lily looks to her right, where Harry’s busy poking at his peas. “I like break time too.” he replies. She raises a brow at him, taking away his fork to stop him from stabbing the greens. “Trying to turn those into mash?” she asks pointedly.
Harry shakes his head sheepishly, before looking back to his granddad. “How does footy go?” he asks, all of a sudden.
Lily blinks in surprise at the random question, but her Dad seems more than happy to explain. She watches Harry’s concentrated frown as he tries to remember everything his granddad is telling him, and wonders what’s gotten him interested in the muggle sport all of a sudden.
“…and the team with the most scored goals wins the match.”
Harry nods. “Is it hard?”
Before her Dad can answer, Dudley, sitting opposite Harry, snorts. “You’ve really never played football?” he asks sneeringly. “That’s weird.”
“Dudley, don’t call your cousin weird.” her Mother retorts before Lily could.
“It is, though. I thought everyone knows how to play footy.” Dudley replies smugly.
Lily wants to tell her nephew that, in their world - because she can’t say the wizarding world without her sister throwing a fit, football isn’t really a big thing like it is here—
Unfortunately though, Harry’s quicker.
“And I thought everyone knew how to play quidditch.”
Her sister’s reaction is immediate. “Don’t talk about such freakish things.” she hisses.
Lily flinches despite herself, before shooting Petunia a warning look. “Don’t start this, Tuney, please.”
Her sister only glares. “I don’t want him putting such nonsense into my Duddy’s head.” she replies in a tight voice, her blue orbs focusing on Harry.
“Petunia, dear, he was just trying to explain his game to Dudley.” their Mother interrupts the sisterly glaring contest, in a clear effort to ease the sudden tension. “I’m sure Dudley would like to—“
“Mum, please. I don’t want Dudley’s head to be filled with such nonessential fantasies.”
Lily sighs irritatedly, eager to drop the subject all together, for she knows they would never be able to agree on any matter regarding her world, as Petunia would call it.
Harry on the other hand, doesn’t. “It’s not nonsense. It’s a real game, just like football, except there’s three different balls and two of them can fly and—“
“Enough!” Petunia not less than screeches, dramatically covering Dudley’s ears.
“Petunia—“
But her sister ignores their father, turning to narrow her eyes at her instead. “Your son will be just as much of a freak as your husband, you know.” she hisses at Lily. “Look at him, maimed with that horrible scar—“
“Petunia!” their Mother gasps, though she’s drowned out by Lily in a matter of a second.
“How dare you!” Lily exclaims loudly, glaring at her sister with a dangerous fire in her eyes. “He’s only eight!”
“Girls!” their Dad’s loud voice makes them break their intense eye contact, and both sets, one pale blue and the other bright green, turn to look at him.
”Please, let’s calm down.”
Lily instantly feels regret filling her at his strained expression.
“I’m sorry.” she sighs, slumping back into her chair and reaching out for—
She snaps her head to her right, only now noticing that Harry’s missing from the table. “Where’s Harry?” she asks, spinning around to scan the room.
Her Mother meets her eyes with a saddened look. “I think he’s gotten a bit upset, dear.” she nudges her head towards the door leading into the hallway, before she turns to look at Petunia with a stern frown. “You shouldn’t have called him…that, nor his father, Petunia.”
Petunia replies something - probably anything but an apology, but Lily doesn’t hear her anymore as she gets up to walk out into the small downstairs hallway. “Harry?” she calls out.
No answer.
She sighs, walking further to stand at the bottom of the staircase that’d lead to the bedrooms.
“Harry?”
When she, again, receives no answer, Lily’s lower stomach tumbles, like it always does whenever she worries about Harry.
She’s not the most laid back parent when it comes to her child, unlike James, though, after watching him almost die at fifteen months old, she thinks it’s justified enough.
She jogs up the stairs, where she, much to her relief, spots the door to her old bedroom standing slightly ajar. She quickly crosses the hallway to gently knock on the door.
“Come in.” comes Harry’s voice.
Her room is exactly like when she’d last lived there, at seventeen. Except for the boy sitting cross legged on her old bed.
He looks up when she sits down on the edge of the mattress. “I didn’t mean to cause an argument.” he says quietly, and Lily’s heart aches to see him so upset.
She scoots closer until she can lean against the wall next to him and gently brushes the stray curls out of his face. “You didn’t, darling…I’m sorry you had to see that.”
Harry’s quiet for a moment, studying his little hands. “D’you think she’s right?” he asks eventually. “About the scar making me a…freak?”
Oh God, he could have just as easily punched her in the gut.
“Oh, Harry…” she sighs, running her fingers through his hair. “Of course not.”
Harry pushes her hand aside, flattening his hair over his forehead to hide his scar - a habit he’s adapted over the years…and one she absolutely can’t stand.
She wishes he wouldn’t feel the need to hide himself away like that.
“Maybe it does, though.” Harry argues quietly. “It’s weird, isn’t it? I’m weird…that’s why sometimes people stare.”
“Harry…” Lily reaches up to take Harry’s hand away from his head, to stop him from fretting with his hair. “You’re not weird, darling.”
He slumps back against the wall, tugging his legs up to his chest. “I hate the scar.” he mumbles into his arms.
This isn’t a conversation Lily’s prepared for. Not today…or ever, if she’s honest.
She could really hex her sister right about now.
She looks up at the ceiling, where a few stick on glow stars still adorn the wooden barrels, thinking of what to say to make him feel better…or maybe it’s best if she’s simply being honest. “I used to hate it too.” she finally replies, earning a surprised look from her son. “Because it constantly reminded me that…I almost lost you that night.”
Harry looks down onto his hands again, before leaning closer to rest his head against her arm. She instantly wraps it around his shoulders, tugging him into her side. “But then I realized that it doesn’t have to…because it’s also proof that you survived.” she leans down to kiss his hair. “It’s a part of your story, Harry. Something that makes you…you. And I, for one, love everything about you.”
Harry smiles at her, suddenly looking so much younger - it’s enough to cause those stubborn few tears to prickle in the corner of her eyes, though she quickly brushes them away.
“Don’t ever let anybody make you feel like you’re anything less than the amazing boy you are, Harry.” she says fiercely. “Promise?”
Harry looks at the pinky she’s holding out to him, before linking his smaller one with hers. “Promise.” he replies, smiling.
Lily gently shakes their linked fingers, before she surges forward without warning, causing him to shriek in surprise as she pulls him onto her lap. “C’mere little bean,” she tickles his sides, sending him into a fit of laughter.
“Mum—“ he gasps as she starts covering every inch of his freckled cheeks with rapid fire kisses.
“Hm?” she muses in between, revelling in his sweet giggles. “Sorry Harry, but,” she kisses next to his ear, knowing he’s ticklish there, earning another squeal from her son. “Mummy just can’t help herself.”
When she notices his breathing becoming increasingly laboured, she finally stops, letting him catch his breath as she settles back against the headboard.
“I love you, Harry.” she whispers, cradling him closely to her chest.
“I love you too, Mum.”