Fic: "Summer Story"
Title: Summer Story
Author: Tosca
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,992 words
Summary: A slice of summer life.
Notes: Fic for captaincatapult, who sparked the idea! Besides, who doesn't like a domestic setting? Pretty much fluff in long-form.
James pouted, hair glinting blue-black in the bright summer sun. “You said you’d help us fly.”
Ginny sat in the middle of the lawn, long grass tickling her bare legs. “I’m thinking about how to do so,” she said, brushing the hair from her eyes.
Albus, wide-eyed and precocious at nine, looked down at her with Harry’s eyes, and she couldn’t keep the smile from her mouth, the warmth curling in her chest that had nothing to do with the sun. “I told him we needed brooms,” he said evenly.
“What about the carpet? We could magic the carpet!” James exclaimed, flopped back into the grass, limbs all askew.
Ginny grinned. “That would ruin the carpet, James, and I like our carpets.”
“Noooo!” Lily trilled from her corner of the lawn. She twirled in wide circles, arms outstretched and head up towards the sun. Light caught on the sparkles in her little blue sundress, the fabric swirling in the open, hazy air. “You hate the one from Auntie Muriel!”
Wrinkling her nose, Ginny sighed. Couldn’t argue with that. “But I don’t want to ruin it,” she said finally. “Your granny would have kittens.”
James rolled about in the grass with a huff, nose crinkling with frustration. “There must be something,” he said plaintively.
Ginny crossed her legs, resting her hands on her knees. “Any ideas, Al?” she asked.
Al stood in his own space, seemingly in his own world, apart from the giggles of his sister and the grumblings of James. “I read of a spell, in one of Dad’s books,” he said thoughtfully.
She leaned into him, hair falling long over her bare shoulders. “Oh yeah? Which one?”
“Mob-It’s hard to say-Mobilicorpus,” he said finally, face flushing. “Is that right?”
Nodding, she glanced over at James, who immediately perked up, his head coming off the ground. “A spell! Perfect! Al, you’re brilliant,” he exclaimed, hopping to his feet.
Al colored again, and Ginny smiled. “You like that sort of stuff, Al? Charms?” she asked.
He nodded vigorously. Something like pride stuffed her chest, and she clapped her hands on her knees and nodded. “Well, then let’s give it a go.”
Whooping triumphantly, James swooped around the yard once more, grabbing Lily by the hand and twirling her once himself. She laughed, pure peals of joy, and Ginny pulled out her wand. She was sure nothing bad would happen whilst she was around; really, she had wanted to get them all real brooms by now, but her mother harped on her constantly, saying they were still too young. It was ridiculous, but now that James was nearly ten, Ginny felt like it was time. His birthday was closing up on them, so it would be the perfect time. He was more interested in flying than the other two, in any case, so they could wait until Christmas.
They lined up in age order, James jiggling with anticipation. Lily didn’t look completely sure what was going on, and Al still was flushed with pleasure, long fingers curling into his shorts. She smiled reassuringly at the three of them. “Mobilicorpus!”
Lily yelped as sparks flew out from the wand, and she levitated a few feet off the ground. “Flying!” she squealed, clapping her hands together.
“Cool,” James breathed out, eyes bright and warm in the sunshine. “Mum, me next, oh please!”
Laughing, Ginny pointed her wand once more. The next five minutes were spent levitating her children off the ground, listening to them laugh and squeal; she herself was nearly breathless as she lay her wand down and stretched out in the grass. The kids raced around her, chasing one another.
“I was up longest!” Lily exclaimed, tugging on James’s shirt.
“Nuh-uh!” he shot back, tugging away from her.
Albus, mouth stretched in a wide smile that was rare and precious, settled next to Ginny, his bony knees knocking against her side. “I’m glad I was right,” he said quietly.
She glanced over at him. “Was it fun?”
“It was cool,” he said bashfully.
“You’ll learn more about it in school, I reckon. Charms was never my strong suit,” she admitted, sitting up and brushing the hair from his eyes. “But it might be yours.”
“What’ll mine be, Mum?” James said, clambering over to them with Lily on his back.
She bit the inside of her lip, cocking her head. “Don’t know yet. What do you like?”
“Flying,” he replied immediately, voice enraptured.
“Well, there’s that then,” she said with a laugh, breathing in honeysuckle and hot summer breeze. The trees surrounding their house curved over them from afar, leaves lit-up like green emeralds against the sky. “And how about you, Lily-bean?” she asked as her youngest climbed over her brother to curl up on Ginny’s side, chin resting on her stomach.
“I like stories,” Lily whispered. “Tell us a story, Mum.”
Ginny sighed and shut her eyes, the sun hot specks of gold against the black. “Your dad’s much better at stories, I don’t want to disappoint you.”
“I want to fly again,” James said wistfully, the longing for open skies clear in his voice. He sounded like her, Ginny realized after a moment, and a softened ache for Quidditch rose up from her middle; it was rare and brief now, after so many years gone, but still, she felt it keenly.
Then, Lily nudged against her hand, the rounded point of her chin digging gently into her abdomen. “I want a story, Mum.”
“Me too,” Albus piped up.
She inhaled deeply and opened her eyes, blinking against the sunlight. “All right. We’ll have a story while I make your brother fly,” she said.
The children cheered and let her sit up. James romped around the yard as Lily curled herself like a kidney into her side, and Albus scooted next to her, his thin shoulder nudging her arm. She’d think he was too thin, if she didn’t feed him herself, but he was Harry’s boy, through and through.
“So, a story. About what?” she asked after a moment, settling herself Indian-style in the grass as James stood at attention before her.
“About Dad,” Albus said hopefully.
Lily nodded, skin hot through Ginny’s tank top. Ginny pressed her lips together. “All right, a story about Dad. Let’s see-“
She flicked her wand at James’s feet, the spell glancing through her mind, and he levitated a full three feet or so, exclaiming the whole time. “Once upon a time, there was a boy named Harry, and he had a friend named Ron who was a prat.”
“You always call Uncle Ron a prat, why?” James asked, swaying from side to side in the air.
“Because he is,” she said with a smirk. “Anyway, one day, when your dad and Uncle Ron were going back to Hogwarts for their second year, they missed the train.”
“Can that happen?” Albus asked, worry lacing his words.
“This was a special case,” Ginny assured him, flicking her wand and floating James over a new area of the lawn. “It won’t happen to you.”
“Are you sure?” Lily breathed, fingers curling into her mother’s shirt.
Ginny smiled, sliding her fingers gently through the soft red hair just like her own. “I’m sure. Now, they missed the train, and Hogwarts was the most important place in the world for Dad. It was the only real home he had known, and he wanted to get there very badly.”
James sighed, kicking his feet in the air, arms stretched out to the sky. “So do I,” he said almost dreamily.
She looked over and caught a lean shadow in the back door that led to the kitchen, all spiky hair and toned limbs. Smiling slightly, she tilted her head back towards the sun. “You’ll get there soon enough,” she said quietly. “Now, where was I?”
“Dad wanted to get to Hogwarts,” Albus prompted.
“Right. So, Dad and Ron put their brains together, and decided-“ and here, she paused for dramatic effect-“that they should steal your grandfather’s flying car.”
“A flying car?” Albus said doubtfully.
James made a great noise of excitement, and she lowered him down to the ground gently, so that he didn’t do anything moronic like back-flip out of the charm. “Can we get one? Can we? Can we?” he breathed.
“They don’t sell flying cars,” she said, but James was already cruising around the yard, steering an invisible wheel.
“We could charm ours! Mum, please, it would be brilliant!” he exclaimed, a high-pitch vroom erupting from his throat.
She shook her head with a hapless smile, eyes going back to the figure in the doorway. “It’s not the safest thing, James.”
“Dad stole a car?” Albus asked, ever the skeptic.
“Yes,” she said. “Unless your father says something different. Hmm?” she called across the lawn.
Lily perked up against her immediately, scrambling to her feet. “Dad! Dad, come tell the story!” she called, voice lilting.
“Your mum’s doing a grand job,” Harry called back, stepping into the sunlight but remaining in the doorway, his weight resting on the frame.
Ginny stuck her tongue out at him good-naturedly as James tumbled to the grass in front of Harry, sprawled out like a snow angel. “Dad, we’ve got to get a flying car,” he pressed breathlessly, hair spiked up nearly like Harry’s. “Can we steal Granddad’s?”
Harry met her gaze from across the grass and their kids, his eyes bright in the sunlight. “Let Mum finish the story,” he said quietly, warmth infusing his words.
Lily began to skip around Ginny and Albus, skirt catching the light in little swirls. “Finish the story!”
Smiling faintly, Ginny brushed the hair from her face, eyes still focused on Harry’s face, the light glancing off his glasses. “So Dad and Uncle Ron steal your grandfather’s car, and fly to Hogwarts.”
“You make it sound so boring,” Harry teased from afar.
“Well, I told them I wasn’t as good at it as you,” she shot back.
Moving easily, Harry came into the yard and sat in the grass, long legs stretched out in front of him as he rested his weight on his hands. “We went up really high,” he said, voice distant, as if remembering it right then. “We skimmed the clouds, and we were very good at driving, though I reckon Aunt Hermione would beg to differ. We saw birds, and flew over Muggle towns, and I think we even waved to some people.”
Quieted, Lily came to a tumbling stop at her father’s side, completely focused on his voice. It was an odd summer silence, the kind Ginny only felt at night, when Harry put the children to bed, and she shivered despite the heat, biting her lip.
“Then, the car ran out of gas,” Harry continued with a chuckle. “We nearly crashed right into the lake, which would have been the end for us, what with the Giant Squid and the merpeople-“
“Merpeople?” Albus breathed.
Harry shot him a quick grin. “I’ll tell you about the merpeople later,” he said, putting a hand on Lily’s hair as she lay on her stomach next to him. “So we nearly crash into the lake, but we manage to land in the forest, in a tree.”
“A very particular tree,” Ginny interjected dryly.
He smirked. “We crashed into the Whomping Willow, and it began thrashing about and nearly killed us. But, using our brilliance and ingenuity, Uncle Ron and I managed to escape and get to the castle safe and sound.”
“What happened to the car, Dad?” Albus asked.
Ginny smirked. “Still running wild out there, isn’t it?”
“Most likely,” Harry replied, gaze distant behind his lenses. “Haven’t thought about that car in ages.”
She could see the memories, as clear as if she had lived them herself, racing across his face, the adventures and the topsy-turvy life he used to lead. Sometimes, in the quiet night of their bedroom, as he slept beside her, she wondered if this was all he needed, the silence and the regular job, the standard house and three kids, and her.
Hopping up, Lily kissed Harry’s cheek, her small fingers catching in his shirt. “Good story, Dad” she said softly, almost too quiet for Ginny to hear.
As Harry’s face softened, and his gaze returned to the present, to his daughter, Ginny looked away to her sons, letting him have his quiet moment. Albus, eyes alight with curiosity, looked up at her.
“I think Hogwarts will be brilliant,” he said finally, voice reverent.
At that, she couldn’t help but pull him into her side, her arm secure around his bony shoulders. “I think so, too,” she murmured, ruffling his hair. He ducked his face into her arm; she could feel the color rise on his cheeks against her skin.
“Hopefully not quite as exciting, though,” Harry added after a moment.
She looked over; he had Lily awkwardly curled up in his lap, a warm, open smile curving his whole face, fringe falling over his faded scar. “A little excitement wouldn’t hurt,” she said.
“Only a little,” he agreed.
Adjacent to them, James sighed, a dreamy, wistful sound. “A flying car. Brilliant.”
Mouth quirking, Harry pulled out his wand and waved it lightly in James’s direction. James yelped as he began to float once more, waving his arms and whooping. Stirring, Lily giggled and scrambled from Harry’s grasp, beginning a twirling dance around James’s levitated form.
Albus grinned, a full toothy smile, and she was so reminded of Harry that she had to catch her breath. “Can I go look in Dad’s books again?” he asked.
She glanced over to Harry, who had the oddest look on his face, but who nodded. “Of course, Al,” she said, ruffling his hair and letting him go. He hopped up and raced into the house, all awkward limbs and spiked hair.
Her eyes turned back to Harry; he’d turned his head, following their youngest son into the house. Biting her lip, she got to her feet and walked over, standing above him and shading him from the late-afternoon sun. “Something the matter?” she asked softly.
“No,” he said finally, face still turned from her. “He’s just-I look away for one moment, and I feel like he grows another year. It’s odd.”
Sun hot on her shoulders, she touched his hair gently, just as she had only moments ago with Albus. “Going back to work today?” she asked softly.
He shook his head, turning back to James and waving his wand once more. James came to a steady landing, eyes bright and alive in his tanned face. “Amazing,” he said, voice full of a little-boy joy.
Ginny smiled. “Why don’t you two go on in and get a snack? We’ll be right in,” she said.
Smiling brightly, Lily launched herself onto her brother’s back. “Carry me!” she exclaimed.
James winced only briefly, latching his arms under her knees to support her. “Fine, just the once!” he said as they waddled their way to the open kitchen door.
Ginny sat down in the grass next to Harry, slipping her hand into his. “They’re all so big, now,” she said softly.
Harry glanced over at her. “She barely fits in my lap anymore,” he said, a slight vein of sadness echoing in his words as he linked their fingers. “And James-he’s old enough for a real broom now.”
“I thought so, too,” she said with a smile, propping her chin on his still-bony shoulder.
He sighed, breath hot against her forehead. “For his birthday, then,” he murmured, the tension leaving his body as she pressed her mouth to the bare skin of his neck. “When did Al get so smart?”
She shrugged, breathing in the sandalwood and sweat against his skin. “When you named him Albus,” she teased. “I reckon it’s a requirement after that point.”
Nudging her ribs, he kissed her temple; she could feel the smile on his lips. “You agreed to it.”
“I was delirious and drugged,” she shot back.
His free hand, long and callused, curved along her neck and jaw, fingertips light on the thin skin. “Do I say thank you enough?” he asked quietly, eyes crinkling at the corners.
“For the name?” she asked dryly.
“For it all,” he said bashfully, a soft color rising on his cheekbones. “You know… er, everything?”
The breath hitched in her chest, and she couldn’t help but smile, tilting her head. “Pleasure’s all mine, Potter,” she murmured, pressing her mouth to his.
He tasted like the morning’s coffee and summer, mouth hot and wide against hers. The same odd stillness settled, as if time had slowed. His fingers curled into her neck a little deeper, a welcome press against her hot sun-streaked skin, but his glasses were cool against the curves of her cheeks.
“Not all yours,” he murmured into her mouth. She squeezed his fingers tighter, the strong muscle thrumming under her touch.
“Oh, gross!”
Full of child-like disgust, James startled them, their mouths parting abruptly. She smiled widely as Harry turned his head, eyebrows raised. “Need something, bud?” he asked, voice slightly husky.
James stood at the doorway to the kitchen, face crumpled in obvious horror. “Can’t reach the cookies,” he muttered, a hand plastered to his eyes.
“Sounds like a job for Dad,” she teased, pushing Harry away lightly.
Harry got to his feet, still adorably all knees and elbows after all these years, and released her hand last. “Better come in soon, you’ll look like a lobster,” he teased.
“Always thought red was my color,” she said lightly.
He grinned and turned to the house. His fingers passed over her hair, giving it a gentle tug as he walked past. Smiling, she took in a deep breath and tilted her head up to the sky, the sounds of her home enveloping her in a warmth stronger than the summer sun.
*
Author: Tosca
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,992 words
Summary: A slice of summer life.
Notes: Fic for captaincatapult, who sparked the idea! Besides, who doesn't like a domestic setting? Pretty much fluff in long-form.
James pouted, hair glinting blue-black in the bright summer sun. “You said you’d help us fly.”
Ginny sat in the middle of the lawn, long grass tickling her bare legs. “I’m thinking about how to do so,” she said, brushing the hair from her eyes.
Albus, wide-eyed and precocious at nine, looked down at her with Harry’s eyes, and she couldn’t keep the smile from her mouth, the warmth curling in her chest that had nothing to do with the sun. “I told him we needed brooms,” he said evenly.
“What about the carpet? We could magic the carpet!” James exclaimed, flopped back into the grass, limbs all askew.
Ginny grinned. “That would ruin the carpet, James, and I like our carpets.”
“Noooo!” Lily trilled from her corner of the lawn. She twirled in wide circles, arms outstretched and head up towards the sun. Light caught on the sparkles in her little blue sundress, the fabric swirling in the open, hazy air. “You hate the one from Auntie Muriel!”
Wrinkling her nose, Ginny sighed. Couldn’t argue with that. “But I don’t want to ruin it,” she said finally. “Your granny would have kittens.”
James rolled about in the grass with a huff, nose crinkling with frustration. “There must be something,” he said plaintively.
Ginny crossed her legs, resting her hands on her knees. “Any ideas, Al?” she asked.
Al stood in his own space, seemingly in his own world, apart from the giggles of his sister and the grumblings of James. “I read of a spell, in one of Dad’s books,” he said thoughtfully.
She leaned into him, hair falling long over her bare shoulders. “Oh yeah? Which one?”
“Mob-It’s hard to say-Mobilicorpus,” he said finally, face flushing. “Is that right?”
Nodding, she glanced over at James, who immediately perked up, his head coming off the ground. “A spell! Perfect! Al, you’re brilliant,” he exclaimed, hopping to his feet.
Al colored again, and Ginny smiled. “You like that sort of stuff, Al? Charms?” she asked.
He nodded vigorously. Something like pride stuffed her chest, and she clapped her hands on her knees and nodded. “Well, then let’s give it a go.”
Whooping triumphantly, James swooped around the yard once more, grabbing Lily by the hand and twirling her once himself. She laughed, pure peals of joy, and Ginny pulled out her wand. She was sure nothing bad would happen whilst she was around; really, she had wanted to get them all real brooms by now, but her mother harped on her constantly, saying they were still too young. It was ridiculous, but now that James was nearly ten, Ginny felt like it was time. His birthday was closing up on them, so it would be the perfect time. He was more interested in flying than the other two, in any case, so they could wait until Christmas.
They lined up in age order, James jiggling with anticipation. Lily didn’t look completely sure what was going on, and Al still was flushed with pleasure, long fingers curling into his shorts. She smiled reassuringly at the three of them. “Mobilicorpus!”
Lily yelped as sparks flew out from the wand, and she levitated a few feet off the ground. “Flying!” she squealed, clapping her hands together.
“Cool,” James breathed out, eyes bright and warm in the sunshine. “Mum, me next, oh please!”
Laughing, Ginny pointed her wand once more. The next five minutes were spent levitating her children off the ground, listening to them laugh and squeal; she herself was nearly breathless as she lay her wand down and stretched out in the grass. The kids raced around her, chasing one another.
“I was up longest!” Lily exclaimed, tugging on James’s shirt.
“Nuh-uh!” he shot back, tugging away from her.
Albus, mouth stretched in a wide smile that was rare and precious, settled next to Ginny, his bony knees knocking against her side. “I’m glad I was right,” he said quietly.
She glanced over at him. “Was it fun?”
“It was cool,” he said bashfully.
“You’ll learn more about it in school, I reckon. Charms was never my strong suit,” she admitted, sitting up and brushing the hair from his eyes. “But it might be yours.”
“What’ll mine be, Mum?” James said, clambering over to them with Lily on his back.
She bit the inside of her lip, cocking her head. “Don’t know yet. What do you like?”
“Flying,” he replied immediately, voice enraptured.
“Well, there’s that then,” she said with a laugh, breathing in honeysuckle and hot summer breeze. The trees surrounding their house curved over them from afar, leaves lit-up like green emeralds against the sky. “And how about you, Lily-bean?” she asked as her youngest climbed over her brother to curl up on Ginny’s side, chin resting on her stomach.
“I like stories,” Lily whispered. “Tell us a story, Mum.”
Ginny sighed and shut her eyes, the sun hot specks of gold against the black. “Your dad’s much better at stories, I don’t want to disappoint you.”
“I want to fly again,” James said wistfully, the longing for open skies clear in his voice. He sounded like her, Ginny realized after a moment, and a softened ache for Quidditch rose up from her middle; it was rare and brief now, after so many years gone, but still, she felt it keenly.
Then, Lily nudged against her hand, the rounded point of her chin digging gently into her abdomen. “I want a story, Mum.”
“Me too,” Albus piped up.
She inhaled deeply and opened her eyes, blinking against the sunlight. “All right. We’ll have a story while I make your brother fly,” she said.
The children cheered and let her sit up. James romped around the yard as Lily curled herself like a kidney into her side, and Albus scooted next to her, his thin shoulder nudging her arm. She’d think he was too thin, if she didn’t feed him herself, but he was Harry’s boy, through and through.
“So, a story. About what?” she asked after a moment, settling herself Indian-style in the grass as James stood at attention before her.
“About Dad,” Albus said hopefully.
Lily nodded, skin hot through Ginny’s tank top. Ginny pressed her lips together. “All right, a story about Dad. Let’s see-“
She flicked her wand at James’s feet, the spell glancing through her mind, and he levitated a full three feet or so, exclaiming the whole time. “Once upon a time, there was a boy named Harry, and he had a friend named Ron who was a prat.”
“You always call Uncle Ron a prat, why?” James asked, swaying from side to side in the air.
“Because he is,” she said with a smirk. “Anyway, one day, when your dad and Uncle Ron were going back to Hogwarts for their second year, they missed the train.”
“Can that happen?” Albus asked, worry lacing his words.
“This was a special case,” Ginny assured him, flicking her wand and floating James over a new area of the lawn. “It won’t happen to you.”
“Are you sure?” Lily breathed, fingers curling into her mother’s shirt.
Ginny smiled, sliding her fingers gently through the soft red hair just like her own. “I’m sure. Now, they missed the train, and Hogwarts was the most important place in the world for Dad. It was the only real home he had known, and he wanted to get there very badly.”
James sighed, kicking his feet in the air, arms stretched out to the sky. “So do I,” he said almost dreamily.
She looked over and caught a lean shadow in the back door that led to the kitchen, all spiky hair and toned limbs. Smiling slightly, she tilted her head back towards the sun. “You’ll get there soon enough,” she said quietly. “Now, where was I?”
“Dad wanted to get to Hogwarts,” Albus prompted.
“Right. So, Dad and Ron put their brains together, and decided-“ and here, she paused for dramatic effect-“that they should steal your grandfather’s flying car.”
“A flying car?” Albus said doubtfully.
James made a great noise of excitement, and she lowered him down to the ground gently, so that he didn’t do anything moronic like back-flip out of the charm. “Can we get one? Can we? Can we?” he breathed.
“They don’t sell flying cars,” she said, but James was already cruising around the yard, steering an invisible wheel.
“We could charm ours! Mum, please, it would be brilliant!” he exclaimed, a high-pitch vroom erupting from his throat.
She shook her head with a hapless smile, eyes going back to the figure in the doorway. “It’s not the safest thing, James.”
“Dad stole a car?” Albus asked, ever the skeptic.
“Yes,” she said. “Unless your father says something different. Hmm?” she called across the lawn.
Lily perked up against her immediately, scrambling to her feet. “Dad! Dad, come tell the story!” she called, voice lilting.
“Your mum’s doing a grand job,” Harry called back, stepping into the sunlight but remaining in the doorway, his weight resting on the frame.
Ginny stuck her tongue out at him good-naturedly as James tumbled to the grass in front of Harry, sprawled out like a snow angel. “Dad, we’ve got to get a flying car,” he pressed breathlessly, hair spiked up nearly like Harry’s. “Can we steal Granddad’s?”
Harry met her gaze from across the grass and their kids, his eyes bright in the sunlight. “Let Mum finish the story,” he said quietly, warmth infusing his words.
Lily began to skip around Ginny and Albus, skirt catching the light in little swirls. “Finish the story!”
Smiling faintly, Ginny brushed the hair from her face, eyes still focused on Harry’s face, the light glancing off his glasses. “So Dad and Uncle Ron steal your grandfather’s car, and fly to Hogwarts.”
“You make it sound so boring,” Harry teased from afar.
“Well, I told them I wasn’t as good at it as you,” she shot back.
Moving easily, Harry came into the yard and sat in the grass, long legs stretched out in front of him as he rested his weight on his hands. “We went up really high,” he said, voice distant, as if remembering it right then. “We skimmed the clouds, and we were very good at driving, though I reckon Aunt Hermione would beg to differ. We saw birds, and flew over Muggle towns, and I think we even waved to some people.”
Quieted, Lily came to a tumbling stop at her father’s side, completely focused on his voice. It was an odd summer silence, the kind Ginny only felt at night, when Harry put the children to bed, and she shivered despite the heat, biting her lip.
“Then, the car ran out of gas,” Harry continued with a chuckle. “We nearly crashed right into the lake, which would have been the end for us, what with the Giant Squid and the merpeople-“
“Merpeople?” Albus breathed.
Harry shot him a quick grin. “I’ll tell you about the merpeople later,” he said, putting a hand on Lily’s hair as she lay on her stomach next to him. “So we nearly crash into the lake, but we manage to land in the forest, in a tree.”
“A very particular tree,” Ginny interjected dryly.
He smirked. “We crashed into the Whomping Willow, and it began thrashing about and nearly killed us. But, using our brilliance and ingenuity, Uncle Ron and I managed to escape and get to the castle safe and sound.”
“What happened to the car, Dad?” Albus asked.
Ginny smirked. “Still running wild out there, isn’t it?”
“Most likely,” Harry replied, gaze distant behind his lenses. “Haven’t thought about that car in ages.”
She could see the memories, as clear as if she had lived them herself, racing across his face, the adventures and the topsy-turvy life he used to lead. Sometimes, in the quiet night of their bedroom, as he slept beside her, she wondered if this was all he needed, the silence and the regular job, the standard house and three kids, and her.
Hopping up, Lily kissed Harry’s cheek, her small fingers catching in his shirt. “Good story, Dad” she said softly, almost too quiet for Ginny to hear.
As Harry’s face softened, and his gaze returned to the present, to his daughter, Ginny looked away to her sons, letting him have his quiet moment. Albus, eyes alight with curiosity, looked up at her.
“I think Hogwarts will be brilliant,” he said finally, voice reverent.
At that, she couldn’t help but pull him into her side, her arm secure around his bony shoulders. “I think so, too,” she murmured, ruffling his hair. He ducked his face into her arm; she could feel the color rise on his cheeks against her skin.
“Hopefully not quite as exciting, though,” Harry added after a moment.
She looked over; he had Lily awkwardly curled up in his lap, a warm, open smile curving his whole face, fringe falling over his faded scar. “A little excitement wouldn’t hurt,” she said.
“Only a little,” he agreed.
Adjacent to them, James sighed, a dreamy, wistful sound. “A flying car. Brilliant.”
Mouth quirking, Harry pulled out his wand and waved it lightly in James’s direction. James yelped as he began to float once more, waving his arms and whooping. Stirring, Lily giggled and scrambled from Harry’s grasp, beginning a twirling dance around James’s levitated form.
Albus grinned, a full toothy smile, and she was so reminded of Harry that she had to catch her breath. “Can I go look in Dad’s books again?” he asked.
She glanced over to Harry, who had the oddest look on his face, but who nodded. “Of course, Al,” she said, ruffling his hair and letting him go. He hopped up and raced into the house, all awkward limbs and spiked hair.
Her eyes turned back to Harry; he’d turned his head, following their youngest son into the house. Biting her lip, she got to her feet and walked over, standing above him and shading him from the late-afternoon sun. “Something the matter?” she asked softly.
“No,” he said finally, face still turned from her. “He’s just-I look away for one moment, and I feel like he grows another year. It’s odd.”
Sun hot on her shoulders, she touched his hair gently, just as she had only moments ago with Albus. “Going back to work today?” she asked softly.
He shook his head, turning back to James and waving his wand once more. James came to a steady landing, eyes bright and alive in his tanned face. “Amazing,” he said, voice full of a little-boy joy.
Ginny smiled. “Why don’t you two go on in and get a snack? We’ll be right in,” she said.
Smiling brightly, Lily launched herself onto her brother’s back. “Carry me!” she exclaimed.
James winced only briefly, latching his arms under her knees to support her. “Fine, just the once!” he said as they waddled their way to the open kitchen door.
Ginny sat down in the grass next to Harry, slipping her hand into his. “They’re all so big, now,” she said softly.
Harry glanced over at her. “She barely fits in my lap anymore,” he said, a slight vein of sadness echoing in his words as he linked their fingers. “And James-he’s old enough for a real broom now.”
“I thought so, too,” she said with a smile, propping her chin on his still-bony shoulder.
He sighed, breath hot against her forehead. “For his birthday, then,” he murmured, the tension leaving his body as she pressed her mouth to the bare skin of his neck. “When did Al get so smart?”
She shrugged, breathing in the sandalwood and sweat against his skin. “When you named him Albus,” she teased. “I reckon it’s a requirement after that point.”
Nudging her ribs, he kissed her temple; she could feel the smile on his lips. “You agreed to it.”
“I was delirious and drugged,” she shot back.
His free hand, long and callused, curved along her neck and jaw, fingertips light on the thin skin. “Do I say thank you enough?” he asked quietly, eyes crinkling at the corners.
“For the name?” she asked dryly.
“For it all,” he said bashfully, a soft color rising on his cheekbones. “You know… er, everything?”
The breath hitched in her chest, and she couldn’t help but smile, tilting her head. “Pleasure’s all mine, Potter,” she murmured, pressing her mouth to his.
He tasted like the morning’s coffee and summer, mouth hot and wide against hers. The same odd stillness settled, as if time had slowed. His fingers curled into her neck a little deeper, a welcome press against her hot sun-streaked skin, but his glasses were cool against the curves of her cheeks.
“Not all yours,” he murmured into her mouth. She squeezed his fingers tighter, the strong muscle thrumming under her touch.
“Oh, gross!”
Full of child-like disgust, James startled them, their mouths parting abruptly. She smiled widely as Harry turned his head, eyebrows raised. “Need something, bud?” he asked, voice slightly husky.
James stood at the doorway to the kitchen, face crumpled in obvious horror. “Can’t reach the cookies,” he muttered, a hand plastered to his eyes.
“Sounds like a job for Dad,” she teased, pushing Harry away lightly.
Harry got to his feet, still adorably all knees and elbows after all these years, and released her hand last. “Better come in soon, you’ll look like a lobster,” he teased.
“Always thought red was my color,” she said lightly.
He grinned and turned to the house. His fingers passed over her hair, giving it a gentle tug as he walked past. Smiling, she took in a deep breath and tilted her head up to the sky, the sounds of her home enveloping her in a warmth stronger than the summer sun.
*