Lost in the Crowd
Harry was not the biggest fan of the blast ended skrewts, but at least it was a subject he was not woefully behind in, or at least he was no less prepared than the rest of his classmates.
"Send anyone flying today, Harry?" Fleur asked.
He shook his head as Padma said, "Nope, and he won't for our next class either: Arithmancy."
"What classes do we have tomorrow?" Harry asked, knowing his schedule by heart now but hoping they would explain it to him. He had yet to explore the castle or find the library.
"Runes, which honestly might be the hardest class for you to catch up in, it's just a language, not really a magick. Also for tonight, we have Astronomy."
"Why do you learn Runes if it isn't a type of magic?" he asked.
Fleur answered, "Because a lot of old magic books are written in runes."
Harry nodded, and he, unlike Padma, was pretty confident he would do well in Runes. Even he wasn't sure anymore how many languages he knew.
As they were getting up, Hermione tugged on his sleeve, he turned, and saw something like shame on her face, "I'm sorry about yesterday, Harry. I just- I was an idiot. I should have paid better attention and helped you."
Harry looped his arm in hers, "Forgiven as long as you never leave me to my own devices in that class." He didn't know if he liked Hermione or not, but it was easy to forgive someone with social skills that made him look like an extrovert.
Hermione wasn't exactly quiet but she could be hyper focused, and while he could pretend to be as outgoing of the best of them, Harry prefered his books too.
Walking arm and arm out of the Great Hall they were stopped by a boy with an impressive shoulder span and a stern face.
Fleur came up beside him, "This is Viktor Krum, the champion for Durmstrang."
Before Harry or Viktor could say anything, Michael Corner, for some reason, still didn't like Harry, "Can you speak Bulgarian too, Potter?"
Harry took another look at Viktor and said in Turkish, "No, but I do speak Turkish."
Something like relief flashed over the other champion's face, and he answered, also in Turkish, "My Turkish is better than my English, and at Durmstrang they teach classes in Swedish." He held out his hand, "Viktor Krum, please call me Viktor."
Harry shook his hand, "Harry Romanoff, you can call me Harry. It is nice to meet you."
"What language was that?" Corner asked, sounding outraged.
"Turkish," Viktor answered in English, "the second most used language in Bulgaria." He switched back to Turkish, "I'm on my country's Quidditch team, almost half of my teammates speak Turkish or Romani."
Corner pushed passed them, and Harry made sure when the other boy tried jostling past, he got an elbow to his ribs for his trouble.
Boot caught his friend before he tripped over his own feet and said to them, "We're going to be late for class."
Viktor stepped out of their way, "Good day, Harry, Ms. Delacour, Ms. Granger."
Padma caught up to them as they headed up the stairs, she asked Hermione, "He knew your name."
Hermione flushed, "So what?"
Harry had seen the way Viktor looked at Hermione, and he shared a smirk with Padma who started to rave about how handsome the Quidditch star was.
Harry, having enough of being the dumb one in the room, didn't ask what Quidditch was.
oOo
Athiramancy confused Harry, he turned to Hermione and Padma after Professor Vector introduced the class and asked, "So it's math?"
"This isn't muggle nonsense," the younger vision of the blonde man they had met in the library sneered at him.
Hermione rolled her eyes, and nodded, "It's math, like algebra and statics had baby that you have to translate into a word problem consisting of current events."
"It can't be like muggle math," Padma said, pulling off one of the advanced books off of one of the shelves in the room, "look."
Harry flipped through the seventh year book and said, "Calculus and geometry with astronomy. Cool."
Padma looked down at the book, "No way, what about this?" she flipped to another page.
Harry smiled, "Geology, very cool." He flipped to the next page, "Environmental science. Why isn't this class mandatory?"
"It isn't environmental science," the blonde snarled, "It's the future."
Harry rolled his eyes, "Yeah, based on the rotation of the earth, tectonic plates, and ocean currents."
The boy gave him a blank look, then seemed to gain some self awareness, he held out his hand, "Draco Malfoy."
Not liking him but not wanting to make any outright enemies, Harry shook his hand, "Harry Romanoff."
Malfoy grinned as if he had just won some bet.
Harry was still planning to trip him.
By the end of class, he was on par with Hermione and Malfoy in the subject, his mom's homeschooling was more than enough to have him proficiency in muggle math and science, which for all Hogwarts professed, was Arithmancy, predicting the movements of the climate and geography of the earth.
oOo
As they were all on their way down to dinner, Harry noticed the twins who had called him 'Dragon Jumper' immerged from behind a tapestry.
"Who are they?" Harry asked Padma.
"The Weasley twins, Fred and George," she said, "They give twins everywhere a bad name. I'm so happy I wasn't sorted into Gryffindor with my sister. I love her, but I don't want to be the same person, not like those two."
He nodded but he was watching the two closely, Madam Pomfrey had warned him away from them, why? And where had they come from?
He guessed there was a secret passage behind that tapestry. He wondered if he befriended them if they would tell him. He watched one tap a piece of parchment and slip it into his bag.
Being told to stay away from someone, well being told by anyone but his mother, made him want to get to know them.
It was probably a character flaw, but his curiosity had served him well in the past.
oOo
Runes was the easiest out of his classes, seeing as the professor let them use the book and Harry was good with different grammars. It would probably take him a month or two to get it down to memory and then he was wondering what secrets he could discover in old wizard texts or if it would just be old people babbling.
Harry spent his free time reading his textbooks and trying to get caught up on his classes, Hermione lent him her old textbooks and class notes. Her class notes seemed to be a word for word what the teachers had said with further explanation from the text. It really was no wonder she was top of her year.
Astronomy, well, he quickly became one of Professor Sinistra's favourite students. Harry knew the stars, they had always caught his attention, and he loved how they changed depending on where he was on the planet, loved them more for stories his mother told him, for the galaxies far far away.
oOo
The next day, Herbology turned out to be more like Magical Creatures, he wasn't all that great at it, and he would probably fail a test, but he was no worse than anyone else at digging a hole and lowering a hostile plant into the ground.
Defence Against the Dark Arts, however, did not at all go the way Harry had predicted.
"Today," the weird eyed professor snarled, "we shall be reviewing the Imperious curse."
Everyone shuddered but Harry who had no idea what the 'Imperious curse' was. It was, of course, called a curse, so he assumed it was bad.
Professor Moody growled, "Potter, didn't your parents ever tell you the damage the Imperio can do? They are Aurors, they more than most would know the trouble it caused for the Ministry during after the war, nearly untrackable, turning friends against their every belief."
Harry glared at the bastard, "My name is Romanoff, and no, my birth parents didn't tell me about it, seeing I've only met them once."
The rest of the class shifted uneasily and Neville gave him a pitying look.
An odd expression crossed the professor decidedly odd facial features, "Your father is pureblood who married a muggleborn, and you're telling me you know nothing?"
Were these people stupid? Or just so set on their own reality that everything else was fiction? Harry repeated, "I don't know anything about my parents other than they aren't dead. I repeat, I only met them once."
The professor stared at him, and Harry wondered if the man had lost his brain along with his eye, "And your stepmother, is she a pure blooded witch?"
Hermione snapped, "What does that even matter?"
"It matters because his 'mother' kidnapped a child and for some reason has yet to be arrested by the Ministry."
Harry stood, fists clenched at his side, "Shut up, you know nothing, nothing about my mother and I."
The man looked at him, and for a moment he thought he might argue, might know something after all, but instead the man continued his lecture, "The Imperius can make a person your slave, make them do anything from making you walk into an open fire without protection to making you kill your loved ones. However, it is the only Unforgivable that can be fought against if you have the will for it."
Faster than a man of his age should be able to move, he pointed his wand at Harry and shouted, "Constant Vigilance! Imperio!"
He should have dodged but he threw out his own hand, a bright blue shimmering shield appearing between them.
The class gasped and Harry's eyes widened as the professors spell sparked right through his shield that could have fended off a ten ton elephant.
An invasive sense of calm fell over Harry, like jumping into a lukewarm lake on a hot day.
Jump onto the desk and squawk.
Harry raised his gaze to the man, and dipped his fingers, twisting his wrist, and flung his palm out. His shield charm condensed and blew outward. The professor barely had time to register what had happened before he was being thrown backwards, he crashed into all the silly devices on and behind his desk. The false sense of peace broke like a bubble.
"Potter!" the man yelled.
But Harry had already grabbed his things, and was out the door before he had pulled himself to his foot and peg leg.
Harry was shaking, he was so… so angry. How dare he? How dare he!?
He went down to Professor Flitwick's class and waited to the side of the wall. Maybe coming to Hogwarts was a mistake. Sure, it was important to learn magic, but these people were crazy. God, how was he going to keep this from his mother? Should he even keep it from Mom?
She would freaking murder the professor.
He wondered what his birth mother's reaction would be? Maybe he should test the water with her.
Harry had gotten himself under control by the time the bell rang.
"Oi," said one of the emerging students, "It's Dragon Jumper."
Harry dipped his head, "Weasley Twin."
His brother jostled behind him a moment later, and exclaimed, "Romanoff!" He took Harry hand shook it wildly and gushed, "It's the Boy Who Lived, our Champion! I'm such -suuuuch a big fan!"
Harry took his hand back, "And you are?"
He smirked, "The other Weasley Twin."
Harry raised a brow, "George or Fred?"
They both grinned at him, and the first said, "You think you can tell us apart? Not even our mother can do that."
Harry crossed his arms, "Tell me the truth now and I will be."
The second grinned wickedly, "Fred," pointed to the first, "George."
"You're blocking the way idiots!" someone behind him shouted.
The twins bowed to Harry in unison then skipped off down the hall.
Yeah, Harry thought, those two are definitely trouble.
None of the other students stopped to chat with him, and when the last had exited Harry entered the room.
"Mr. Romanoff," Professor Flitwick greeted warmly, "How are you?"
Harry shrugged and the professor asked, "Or perhaps the question I should be asking is why you are here? Our first class together is tomorrow."
Harry didn't waste any time, "I attacked Professor Moody, I came here before he pulled himself off the floor."
Flitwick gaped at him and asked in shock, "Er... why would you do that, Mr. Romanoff?"
"Because he threw an Imperius Curse at me after telling us it could be used to enslave people to the point of killing loved ones or suicide. He told me to jump on the table, but no one attacks me out of a ring. I don't care if it was a lesson, no one has the right to attack me without my consent."
Flitwick's expression changed from shock to anger, he asked softly in a dangerous tone, "He used the Imperius Curse, Imperio, on a student?"
"Yes," Harry said.
Flitwick was quiet for a moment, death still, the same type of still his mom got when she was planning something.
"Professor," Harry said casually, "I threw up a shield charm in time, do you know why his curse went through it?"
Flitwick's dark eyes focused on Harry and his face softened, "Shield charms don't work on the Unforgivables, Imperio, Crucio and, as you say, the A.K. Either someone or something must physical block it, but clothing and even army are not enough. It must be something or some animal outside the person it hits."
"I felt calm when he hit me, but I didn't feel compelled to do what he said."
Flitwick's gave him an appraising look, "A strong will, Mr. Romanoff, a strong will indeed if you felt no compulsion. Most people are so overcome with the feeling of calmness that any order is felt as their own will. Some people can be kept under the curse for days, weeks, long after the curse had been cast. They carry on orders, acting as spies, acting against their own best interests, even being used to kill others."
Harry felt sick, and thought back to the story Mom had told about some of the magicks from her universe. As fun as magic could be, it had its dark side.
"Why don't you return to the Ravenclaw common room, be late for dinner. I'm going to talk to the Headmaster, and you shall receive no punishment for what Mad-Eye has done. Avoid him if at all possible."
"What about the next class?"
Flitwick sighed, "Knowing Dumbledore, you will be expected to return. It is rather hard to find DADA professors."
Harry frowned, "I won't allow myself to be attacked."
"Nor should you," the professor agreed, "again, I will ensure that no punishment befalls you and I will do my best to make sure this does not happen to you or any other. If he crosses the line again I will make sure he never teaches another day again."
Harry saw in his eyes that if it had just been up to him that Moody would be gone today. So, Harry nodded and went back to the commons.
Padma and Hermione were there. Hermione's face was flushed, "He was out of line."
Padma nodded, "He deserved to be knocked on his ass."
A curly blonde haired girl wandered over, almost floated, "Who deserved it?"
Hermione frowned at the girl, but Harry answered, "Professor Moody, he tried using the Imperius Curse on me."
The girl blinked owlish eyes at him, then whispered conspiratorially, "I think something is very wrong with him, even the nargles stay away from him."
Padma and Hermione rolled their eyes, but Harry, who had no idea what a nargle was, asked, "Do the nargles avoid anyone else?"
The girl sighed, "Only Professor Flitwick and Fleur Delacour, but that's because nargles prefer to torment pure humans."
"But they fear Moody?"
She nodded stoically.
Hermione made a harsh sound, "Harry, nargles aren't real."
He turned to look at her, "Why not?"
"Because every book says they aren't real."
Harry grinned, "Books were written by people and people have been unitedly wrong on plenty of topics before."
The blonde hugged him, and he hugged her back, he'd been in places whose cultures that were a lot more touchy-feely than Britain or America, she looked up at him grinning, "I'm Luna Lovegood."
He grinned back, "I'm Harry Romanoff."
She released him spinning in a circle so her skirts spun out under her robes and galloped up the stairs to the dorm rooms.
Padma said, "She's a little crazy."
Harry smiled, "I like her."
Filius caught Minerva as she was stacking her graded papers, "We need to talk."
She looked up, surprised, "Yes?"
"Mad-Eye attacked our new student with the Imperius Curse."
"He did what!?"
He repeated himself.
Minerva put her hand to her forehead, "We have to talk Albus. What did he make Mr. Romanoff do?"
"Mr. Romanoff said he knocked the professor off his foot after shrugging of the curse."
Her eyes widened, "Surely he isn't that…"
"Powerful?" Filius finished for her, "Minerva, that boy is going to be the greatest wizard of his age, I haven't seen such raw power since-"
"Riddle."
Filius sighed, "I don't believe he is headed in that direction, but he is dangerous. If he doesn't learn control…"
"He needs formal training," Minerva said, "but does he need more training than just our classes? He didn't do well in my class, nor Severus's for that matter."
"Lily and James could help him," Filius said, "I'm sure they would be more than happy to visit on the weekends, and it hardly something the other parents could object to given the circumstances."
"I would almost say they should homeschool him," she said, "But the last thirteen years have been…"
"I think Harry needs his peers."
"He needs his parents."
Filius shook his head, "I met Natasha Romanoff. She loves him, and he loves her as much as any son has ever loved their mother. He does not need his parents. But Ms. Romanoff doesn't appear to have any more training than Harry does in magic."
Her eyes went wide, "When did you meet her?"
"When I took Harry to go get his wand, she is staying at the Three Broomsticks, she had a wand, she knew about magic, but-"
"But what?"
"She didn't know what apparating was, she didn't even know she was a witch until she 'found' Harry. But the thing is, she is no weaker than Harry. Something very odd happened that night."
"You mean besides all three of the Potters apparently surviving You Know Who's Killing Curses?"
Filius was quiet for a long moment, "Yes, besides that."
"Did you see Albus's expression?"
Filius nodded.
"He knew."
Filius nodded again.
"Perhaps James and Lily confided in him."
He shook his head, "If Lily and James trusted Albus, Peter Pettigrew wouldn't have been their secret keeper."
Minerva sighed, "Albus is a good man, despite his shortcomings."
He glared, "Yes, well let's go discuss his latest shortcoming, I swear if I have to deal with one more inept DADA professor I'm going to teach all those spells in duelling class. Who knows, maybe only the title DADA is cursed in this school."
oOo
When they got to the Headmaster's office he was standing and frowning out the window, without turning around, he said, "I heard Mr. Potter had some trouble today."
Minerva and Filius exchanged a look.
"Alastor wants the boy expelled."
Minerva's lips thinned, "Albus, it's the professor who should be terminated. The Imperius Curse! On a student in front of a room full of students!"
Albus sighed, turning to them, "It was a learning-"
Filius snorted, "Either you can fight off the Imperius or you can't, and sometimes it depends on the caster's strength. You can't prepare anyone for that. The best you can tell anyone is that it is possible and to fight it."
"I'll admit that Alastor may have taken it too-"
"You told him he wasn't allowed to continue didn't you?" Minerva interjected.
"Of course," Albus said amicably.
Neither Head of House bought it.
"Albus," Minerva growled.
"I have no one else to teach the class, it is an important class."
"Well then perhaps it is time we call in the curse breakers, it's been over a decade, we know it's real."
"That would be dangerous," the old man told them.
"Dangerous!" Minerva exclaimed, "More dangerous than Nigel slipping off the moving staircase when we have spells to prevent that? Albus, how many of our past DADA professors have gotten hurt over the years? Or, considering the children, how many charlatans have we had, Remus was wonderful last year but the year before? Lockhart was a disgrace to all of us."
"Minerva-"
"Don't you Minerva me, Albus. Filius is correct, we know this is a curse, a curse laid by Riddle when he came to apply for the position. I will personally call the curse breakers."
"Alastor will teach through the year, that will not change."
Minerva smiled, "If I hear so much as a rumour that he has put any of the students in undue danger, I will see him in prison."
"It was a learning-"
"It was an Unforgivable!"
"Albus," Filius added in a calmer voice, "Harry Romanoff will leave this school if we give him enough cause. He knows he only needs to be here for the tournament."
"Harry will stay."
Filius frowned, "No, he won't."
Albus sat in his seat and smiled at them both, eyes twinkling, "Harry Potter was meant to be here."
Minerva and Filius exchanged another look, maybe Moody wasn't the only mad one at Hogwarts.
The Three Broomsticks.
Somehow whenever James fantasized about finding his son and his kidnappers, the Three Merlin-Damned Broomsticks wasn't it.
Natasha Romanoff was a guest, a guest that somehow had all of magical London talking.
The Witty Russian, the Beautiful Russian, the Sexiest Witch to ever grace the United Kingdoms. They were a pretty small community, but still, James thought it was a pretty far jump to call any one witch the most beautiful or sexy.
And James Potter thought that right up until Lily banged on her door.
And the sexiest witch he had ever seen opened the door wide, cocking her hip, and greeting them with a smile that rendered even Lily speechless.
Even if it was for all of five seconds, "You're the bitch that stole my son."
James almost smiled, he liked Lily's fury, he didn't care how physically attractive this other woman was, Lily would always be the only for him.
And he realized with a jolt, that it had been a long time since he thought of his wife as, well, a woman.
They shared a bed, but it wasn't until this week that real life had been brought back into their lives.
His goal was very simple today, to keep Lily from killing Natasha Romanoff. James was so happy to know his son was alive, that the rest, no matter how much the rest hurt, the rest didn't matter as long as he didn't disappear again.
"I suppose I am," the woman said in a purring Russian accent.
James felt as if he had just waltzed into a movie as she beckoned them inside. And foolishly, at least given how his wife was vibrating with rage, turning her back on them to retreat to the little kitchenette in the corner of the room. This was certainly one of the better suits in the inn.
He put a hand on Lily's shoulder, and shut the door behind them.
"So you aren't going to deny you kidnapped our son."
Natasha came back into the room with three martini glasses, it looked milk based but was definitely alcoholic, thank Merlin.
"Sit, drink," she instructed, following her own advice, and crossing her legs so that muggle skirt revealed her long toned legs.
James directed Lily to the love seat across from the woman who had raised their child. He took a glass off the table and held it out to Lily, she scowled at him, so he drank from it.
"James!" she exclaimed, "It could be poisoned."
Natasha laughed, a full throated contralto. "If I were going to kill you, Mrs. Potter, you would already be dead."
James had been threatened by a lot of people in his day, Lily included, but for the life of him, he couldn't tell if Natasha was serious or pulling their leg.
"Answer my damned question," Lily snarled at her.
Natasha sipped her drink, laying on arm back against the line of the chair, in the process pressing out the curve of her breasts.
James would have been uncomfortable, but her eyes had never strayed to him. It was almost like he wasn't in the room, the Russian had eyes only for his wife.
"Which question would that be?" she asked casually.
James took another sip, he was surprised Lily hadn't lunged at her yet.
"You stole our son."
Natasha sat forward, uncrossing her legs, and resting her glass down on the table, "The last time I saw you, my darling Mrs. Potter, you didn't have a pulse."
James could almost feel Lily grinding her teeth, "Harry has a godfather."
"Death told me something different," Natasha said gently.
James frowned, Harry had mentioned that.
Death.
Not the thing, but the being, as if Death was a person to be spoken to.
Not that they had a better explanation of why they were alive other than a death god brought them back to life. But James would hold to his doubts.
"And what did Death say?" Lily asked, a tad less hostilely.
Natasha pulled back, her arms curling around herself. James was pretty sure it was an act, but even pissed, Lily leaned toward the other woman, and he watched in awe when her features softened.
James sipped his drink again, Natasha Romanoff was good, and his wife, under all the pain and hurt, still had the kindest heart he had ever known.
"Death said that Harry needed me, that if I left him that he would be given to people who would lock him up, near starve him, work him like a servant, and that he would be murdered before he graduated from school."
James hearted gave a sharp tug, she had said it with such candour, he had a hard time believing that was an act.
Lily stood, "We would never do that to our son!"
But James had a sudden thought, "Lily sit," he tugged on her hand, "what would have happened if we had stayed dead?"
"Sirius would have raised him," Lily snapped.
"Sirius would have gone after Peter," James argued, "He wanted to that night, even when we were searching for Harry, he was so grief and rage filled… what if something had happened to Sirius."
She sat, but she glared at Natasha, "Why didn't you investigate whether or not Harry had family looking for him?"
Natasha shrugged, making the gesture somehow graceful, "When the assassins started showing up in numbers I put as much distance between Britain and Harry as I could manage. We kept moving and I never stayed in the magical worlds long. I took every precaution with Harry's safety. But I swear to you both, that I would not have separated Harry from his birth parents had I known you were alive."
James didn't know why he believed this stranger, but he did.
Lily did not, "We aren't just his birth parents, we are his parents."
Natasha leaned across the table and took Lily's hand.
Lily started at the touch and did not speak when Natasha said, "He's our son. And he is beautiful. I can never say how sorry I am for you both, no more than I can ever thank you enough for bringing him into this world. He's… he's everything. He's perfect."
James had never known jealousy as he knew it in that moment.
Lily put her other hand on Natasha's, her knuckles going white. "You bitch. You fucking bitch."
Tears spilled down Lily's cheeks and Natasha put one gentle hand to her cheek, "I died too, that night. When I was brought back I woke on the floor next to you, Lily," the way Natasha said his wife's name was like a caress, "Harry was alone, and I -my life matters very little, but I thought if I could keep this one boy alive, be there to ensure he has a good life, to know he is loved and not be forced into some Dark Lord's schemes, that I could make a difference."
"He is my son," Lily said, her heart in her voice, "he's James's son, and he never knew us."
Natasha stood in a fluid motion, keeping Lily's hand in hers, "Come I have something to show you."
Lily followed the other woman numbly, James followed silently wondering if this Russian was hitting on his wife.
Other men and wizards had hit on Lily in front of him before, and typically Lily herself scared them off. But with Natasha…
James thoughts were immediately derailed when he saw what lay on the counter.
Pictures.
Pictures of Harry, pictures of Harry with Natasha, his mother. Because even James couldn't deny the love he saw in those family photos. Photos that looked like they truly had been all over the world.
Lily clung to Natasha's hand, and reached out her other hand for him. He took her elbow, and she gave him nearly all of her weight, her emerald eyes scanned the photos hungrily.
James's eyes swept over them as well, and it hurt, he felt like crying. While they had been in hell, their son had been happy.
And this, this was the best case scenario, that their son hadn't lived a life grieving the parents who were searching for him. That he had been protected from all threats, that no Death Eater or Dark Lord had ever gotten their hands on him. Their son had grown up strong and had been loved. Had done sports… he reached out to his son holding up to other children's arms, all three were dirt covered and smiling, he was maybe nine years old, wearing a medal somehow bigger than his smile.
"Wrestling in Haryana, India, those kids were tough," Natasha supplied, "But we stayed long enough that he was able to get a medal in his age group. He was so pleased with himself. And he got dirt everywhere, but he likes being outdoors more than in the fancy indoor rinks with synthetic mats."
He touched another photograph of Harry sitting in an airport, he was younger, maybe eight or seven, messy haired head bent over a book fully that eclipsed his lap.
"We were on a trip to Manitoba, Canada, to a fossil dig site, he was very into dinosaurs and geology. He still loves geology and geography. Show him old maps and lights up like it's Christmas."
James touched photograph after photograph, and Natasha told them story after with as much pride and love as every mother should feel for their child.
Lily had let go of Natasha's hand to reach a shaking hand out to one of Harry in tears, red faced and snot nosed.
He looked like he was on a boat, blue, blue water behind him, he was six or seven years old James guessed.
"California," Natasha said with a laugh, "he loves seals, but his favourite animals were orcas. He learned on that whale watching adventure why they are called killer whales, it ate a seal looking for protection near our boat."
Lily spoke, her voice tight, "Are they still his favourite animal?"
"No, but he claims if he ever comes back in another life that he wants to be an orca. He likes the water and orca's according to him, are the Kings of the ocean. He proved this to me last year when he showed me a documentary about an orca hunting a great white." Natasha her head. "Honestly, I know I fed his questions and curiosity, but Harry has such a wide span of interests, I don't think he'll ever lose his passion for the world."
James scanned over the pictures, and they reflected what she said, a boy who loved where he was and in train stations or bus terminals or airports always had his face in a book. There were very few pictures of him with other kids outside of sports events, but he looked happy.
James's heart skipped a beat when he spotted one particular photograph of Harry, smiling joyously at the camera, his nose pink, his glasses partially fogged, and his messy curls framing his face from under a fur-lined hat. He couldn't have been older than five years old.
Natasha noticed his attention and as he picked up the snapshot, he stared at the hoard of tourists behind his son, in what James's recognized as Palace Square in St. Petersburg on Christmas Eve.
"I started taking Harry to Russia every Christmas," Natasha said, her voice softening with the warm glow of a thousand happy memories. "You can join this year, if Harry wants you to come."
If Harry wants you. James couldn't breathe.
Lily slapped her.
Natasha took it and went on as if nothing had happened, "Russia never had any good memories for me until Harry."
Lily raised her hand again, but Natasha caught her wrist and stepped into her, she said in a velvety voice, "I let you hit me the first time, but do it again," and her voice dropped a bit lower, "and I will hit you back."
Lily tore away from the other woman and disapparated without another word.
"We'll be in touch," James said thickly, before disapparating as well.
When he popped into their apartment, Lily had sunk to the floor, leaning against the sofa. James sat on the sofa, and Lily wrapped her arms around his legs, resting her head on his knee.
James felt hollow, the picture still in his hand. "He looks happy," he said, his voice sounding as if he were speaking down a tunnel.
He couldn't stop staring at the photograph, at their son, and two familiar disguised figures not ten yards behind him.
Eventually, he lowered his hand, unable to accept what his eyes told him, what he already knew to be true.
James had convinced himself it was Lily who was the obsessed one, but she hadn't been alone, he had obsessed right along with her until he had finally lost hope.
Lily placed a shaking hand on his, turning his wrist so she could see the photograph again, see the still image of their own blindness.
"In the end," she said brokenly, "we had no idea what we were looking for."
For the first time in thirteen years, Lily let herself cry, truly cry.
James dropped to his knees beside her. She curled into him, sobbing and clutching the front of his robes.
He rubbed her back, but he never let go of the photograph. The photograph of a father, mother, and son; lost in the crowd.
Natasha leaned against the counter.
They hadn't asked for custody of Harry.
They hadn't asked for custody.
Her fingertips felt tingly, only now did she realize how afraid she had been, feared what a fight between them would do to Harry.
She truly wanted him to know his birth parents, they seemed like decent people. But she couldn't lose him. She couldn't be given a smaller part of his life.
It would destroy her.
Her plan to flirt with Lily Potter had worked well enough, it had been a careful dance between playful enough to not have them calling harassment on her and heavy enough to confuse them, put them off their guard.
Considering all she had received was a slap, Natasha considered it a win. Had she been in Lily's position, the other woman would have had a knife in her heart and be food for the fishes.
AN: Thoughts, reactions, ideas, or orcas?