FIC: The Photo Album
Wrote this last night. There was one more photo I'd have liked to add, but maybe I'll use it later :)
Enjoy!
Title: The Photo Album
Author: charlieschulz
Rating: PG
Pairing: Teddy/James Sirius
Word Count: 1, 787
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. J.K does.
Summary: Harry Potter finds a photo album.
Author Note: This was inspired by a bus ride, English homework, and a lovely photo of Michael Aranda.
Harry Potter apparated outside the door of 6B, checking left and right over both shoulders, before knocking on the door twice and saying -Arrows- in a whisper. The door swung open easily and he allowed himself in with a grin.
His son’s apartment looked like what any almost-twenty-years-old’s would. There were comics and newspapers lining the floors, a distinct smell of takeout in the air, and a big fish tank, supporting no fish, but plenty of books. The walls were a grey colour, matching the couch directly across from the tank, and the place was small, only one room. The only thing that looked like it had never been eaten/slept/spilled on was corner in the kitchen, one that Harry could barely see from the door where he was still standing.
Harry smiled at his son’s antics; James never failed to amuse him. He began to step around the Quibblers and Daily Prophets that covered the floor, heading to the small piece of paradise in the kitchen.
James had moved out a year or so before, after spending a week over at Harry’s godson’s loft. He had come home, tan and smiling, claiming he had had a vision and he needed to move out at once. A job was quickly found, stocking shelves at Flourish and Blotts, and he was packing his stuff up a month later.
Harry enjoyed the place, although he’d hated messy rooms ever since summer holidays at Privet Drive. He sat down at the clean chair in the kitchen, propping his feet up on the table. James worked until five and after a glance at the old watch once belonging to Fabian Prewitt, Harry knew that he’d be waiting at least another twenty minutes before his son would appear.
He didn’t mind. There was a neat stack of books on the table (one thing James could always redeem himself with was his horribly bookish ways) and Harry shifted through the pile: Hemingway, Whisp, Salinger, Bagshot, Goshawk, Wilde… He was about to pick up a lonely looking copy of A Farewell to Arms when he saw a wide, brown photo album underneath the pile.
Curiousity got the better of him once again and the story about soldiers was forgotten, as he lifted the book up and opened it to the first page.
The photo was familiar. It had been taken the day James was born, the baby in Ginny’s arms as a seven year old Teddy stared down at it from his place next to her on the bed. As Harry watched, little Teddy grabbed James’s hand, grinning like a madman. He smiled up at the camera with a Jack-o-Lantern’s grin and Harry laughed. He took a glance at the bottom of the page which proclaimed in a messy scrawl -The first encounter- He turned the page, shaking his head.
The next photo was also known to him, four year old James, skinny and big eyed, hugging Teddy. They were on Platform 9 and ¾, Teddy with a trunk and James with tears, saying goodbye as the older boy left without his (practically) brother for the first time since he’d been born. Harry shook his head again, but this time more deliberate as he read the words at the bottom again -The first time age was an issue- He didn’t know it was only their photos; he couldn’t see himself in the background at all yet he could have sworn... Of course, James and Teddy had been best friends for ages, but Harry had been expecting a family album, not just the two of them.
He flipped through pages and pages, finding more firsts, Quidditch games, short-lasting girlfriends, school pranks. Harry watched their lives go by, their real lives - not the carbon stories he got every Christmas. He passed a picture of a third year James talking to a 20 year old Teddy at The Three Broomsticks -the first legal butterbeer-, he saw them again, both a year older in the same spot, but with two women across from them, looking bored as the two boys talked -the first double date-, and there they were again, Harry put on a frown now, with James looking older, long limbed and a daring smile, smoking his first joint -the first Gillyweed trip-.
Harry couldn’t help but get caught up in their memories; at the childish getups they did, at the fact that they didn’t need anything else on the page to be able to recount the story. He smiled big, he’d been a stupid 18 year old one day trying to look after little Teddy Lupin, but it looked as if he’d done his job. He’d gotten this boy a family.
It wasn’t half a second after he’d thought his thought that Harry’s grin fell off his face.
The photo was black and white, taken in a room that looked quite a lot like Teddy’s. James was lying on the bed, looking young and carefree, probably 17 at the most, grinning up at the camera. The picture was dark, and as he watched the cameraman left his stance, and Teddy jumped on the bed next to James. They both sat back, arms around each other and fell asleep, -the first sleep when it meant something-
Harry was confused immediately by the text. Meant what? What were they talking about? Why were they sleeping next to each other? He turned the page cautiously, almost knowing what would be on the next page before he turned it…
And there it was. 3 photos, taken in a Muggle photo booth, in front of a green background. The first was all smiles and wide eyes, purple hair from Teddy and a face of dark freckles from James. The second had Teddy leaning over, kissing James on the cheek, the boy turning a lovingly pink. And the final was nothing less than a snog, both parties completely committed, both parties in love.
This photo had no caption, and for that Harry was glad.
He was still processing this, not quite believing that his son, his son James Sirius Potter, was in love with his godson, Teddy Remus Lupin. And that the feelings were reciprocated. And had been for awhile. And that he had just found out about it now.
His brain was dead but his fingers were still working. The next picture was James in his boxers eating breakfast, a bare-chested Teddy kissing him on the forehead. After that: the two holding hands in the snow, holding each other on the grey couch late at night, clutching an umbrella under the teeming rain of London, throwing comics at Albus as he left the flat, James reading a book with his head in Teddy’s lap…
Harry, half conscious and still feeling like his heart was out next to his intestine having never recovered from the fall, gazed at the last photo of the book. There was James, sweet smiling James, leaning over to give Teddy a kiss good morning in the very same kitchen Harry was sitting in. And there was Teddy, brilliantly grinning Teddy, pressing back on James mouth. They separated and Harry read the words on both of their lips, spoken so softly it looked like a prayer -I love you-
As if by magic, but let’s not rule that out just yet, their voices appeared outside the door. The sound of keys hit Harry’s still frozen ears (he hadn’t moved anything except his hands since the initial hit) and he quickly tried to regain his senses, tried to analyze the situation like the sane Auror he was supposed to be.
“-food was late of course, but it was worth it to see Harrods’s face-”
“You really do tease him too much James, he doesn’t deserve-”
“The bloke’s a git and I’m not- Dad?”
Harry glanced at them, up to their wits in grocery bags, smiling and freckled and beautiful. He looked at the pair, and then back down again, at the photo album, at the lives they felt like they had to hide, at the most important thing in their world that no one felt like mentioning to him.
“Didn’t know you’d be over here!” James sounded ecstatic to see his dad, but James was always happy. “Teddy came about an hour ago, surprised me too. I can get you a butterbeer if you want…”
“Hey Harry!” Teddy walked over to him, grin wide. “See you’ve got the best chair. Jamie only has it ‘cause I refused to sit in this pigsty.”
Harry forced a smile on his face, trying to close the book without either of them noticing. Unfortunately James had a sixth sense about books of all kinds and immediately picked up on it.
“What’s that you got there?” he reached over, still smiling. A tug was all it took, a simple pull to get the book lose, one moment for the world to stop. James smile washed away faster than a Firebolt as he stared at himself kissing the man next to him, whispering words of love to one another. Teddy glanced over and followed suit, giving James an unreadable look.
It was silent for only a minute before James exploded, “I’m sorry, gods I’m sorry dad, but I didn’t - I didn’t think, and Teddy just - he’s Teddy, and I can’t even function when he’s not - he’s not around, and I didn’t tell you - we didn’t tell you because - Merlin I’m sorry dad, please, I didn’t mean it, I swear - please don’t make me lose him - please, please-”
Teddy was silent, listening to James babbles. Harry could see it in the eyes that were watching the floor, could tell that Teddy knew he was to blame. He was older, wiser; he should have known to stay away from his godfather’s son.
But for some reason Harry didn’t have it in him to blame anyone.
He stood up steadily, watching James face go pale and determined. Harry walked straight to his son, looked into his warm, brown eyes -so like Ginny- and saw the Gryffindor shine back. Emerald and brown stared for only a second before Harry grabbed James, clutched him to his own chest and hugged him like no tomorrow.
James made a soft noise and as Harry reached out to include Teddy in the embrace, he thought he heard a noise out of him too, but he paid no mind. These were his boys, his beautiful, lovely boys, and if they were in love, well then they were in love.
Both of them began apologizing again, like a bunch of hysterical patients who couldn’t keep their mind straight, but he spoke over them, repeating two words over again until they all just stood silent in the kitchen, accepting each other,
“It’s okay.”
Enjoy!
Title: The Photo Album
Author: charlieschulz
Rating: PG
Pairing: Teddy/James Sirius
Word Count: 1, 787
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. J.K does.
Summary: Harry Potter finds a photo album.
Author Note: This was inspired by a bus ride, English homework, and a lovely photo of Michael Aranda.
Harry Potter apparated outside the door of 6B, checking left and right over both shoulders, before knocking on the door twice and saying -Arrows- in a whisper. The door swung open easily and he allowed himself in with a grin.
His son’s apartment looked like what any almost-twenty-years-old’s would. There were comics and newspapers lining the floors, a distinct smell of takeout in the air, and a big fish tank, supporting no fish, but plenty of books. The walls were a grey colour, matching the couch directly across from the tank, and the place was small, only one room. The only thing that looked like it had never been eaten/slept/spilled on was corner in the kitchen, one that Harry could barely see from the door where he was still standing.
Harry smiled at his son’s antics; James never failed to amuse him. He began to step around the Quibblers and Daily Prophets that covered the floor, heading to the small piece of paradise in the kitchen.
James had moved out a year or so before, after spending a week over at Harry’s godson’s loft. He had come home, tan and smiling, claiming he had had a vision and he needed to move out at once. A job was quickly found, stocking shelves at Flourish and Blotts, and he was packing his stuff up a month later.
Harry enjoyed the place, although he’d hated messy rooms ever since summer holidays at Privet Drive. He sat down at the clean chair in the kitchen, propping his feet up on the table. James worked until five and after a glance at the old watch once belonging to Fabian Prewitt, Harry knew that he’d be waiting at least another twenty minutes before his son would appear.
He didn’t mind. There was a neat stack of books on the table (one thing James could always redeem himself with was his horribly bookish ways) and Harry shifted through the pile: Hemingway, Whisp, Salinger, Bagshot, Goshawk, Wilde… He was about to pick up a lonely looking copy of A Farewell to Arms when he saw a wide, brown photo album underneath the pile.
Curiousity got the better of him once again and the story about soldiers was forgotten, as he lifted the book up and opened it to the first page.
The photo was familiar. It had been taken the day James was born, the baby in Ginny’s arms as a seven year old Teddy stared down at it from his place next to her on the bed. As Harry watched, little Teddy grabbed James’s hand, grinning like a madman. He smiled up at the camera with a Jack-o-Lantern’s grin and Harry laughed. He took a glance at the bottom of the page which proclaimed in a messy scrawl -The first encounter- He turned the page, shaking his head.
The next photo was also known to him, four year old James, skinny and big eyed, hugging Teddy. They were on Platform 9 and ¾, Teddy with a trunk and James with tears, saying goodbye as the older boy left without his (practically) brother for the first time since he’d been born. Harry shook his head again, but this time more deliberate as he read the words at the bottom again -The first time age was an issue- He didn’t know it was only their photos; he couldn’t see himself in the background at all yet he could have sworn... Of course, James and Teddy had been best friends for ages, but Harry had been expecting a family album, not just the two of them.
He flipped through pages and pages, finding more firsts, Quidditch games, short-lasting girlfriends, school pranks. Harry watched their lives go by, their real lives - not the carbon stories he got every Christmas. He passed a picture of a third year James talking to a 20 year old Teddy at The Three Broomsticks -the first legal butterbeer-, he saw them again, both a year older in the same spot, but with two women across from them, looking bored as the two boys talked -the first double date-, and there they were again, Harry put on a frown now, with James looking older, long limbed and a daring smile, smoking his first joint -the first Gillyweed trip-.
Harry couldn’t help but get caught up in their memories; at the childish getups they did, at the fact that they didn’t need anything else on the page to be able to recount the story. He smiled big, he’d been a stupid 18 year old one day trying to look after little Teddy Lupin, but it looked as if he’d done his job. He’d gotten this boy a family.
It wasn’t half a second after he’d thought his thought that Harry’s grin fell off his face.
The photo was black and white, taken in a room that looked quite a lot like Teddy’s. James was lying on the bed, looking young and carefree, probably 17 at the most, grinning up at the camera. The picture was dark, and as he watched the cameraman left his stance, and Teddy jumped on the bed next to James. They both sat back, arms around each other and fell asleep, -the first sleep when it meant something-
Harry was confused immediately by the text. Meant what? What were they talking about? Why were they sleeping next to each other? He turned the page cautiously, almost knowing what would be on the next page before he turned it…
And there it was. 3 photos, taken in a Muggle photo booth, in front of a green background. The first was all smiles and wide eyes, purple hair from Teddy and a face of dark freckles from James. The second had Teddy leaning over, kissing James on the cheek, the boy turning a lovingly pink. And the final was nothing less than a snog, both parties completely committed, both parties in love.
This photo had no caption, and for that Harry was glad.
He was still processing this, not quite believing that his son, his son James Sirius Potter, was in love with his godson, Teddy Remus Lupin. And that the feelings were reciprocated. And had been for awhile. And that he had just found out about it now.
His brain was dead but his fingers were still working. The next picture was James in his boxers eating breakfast, a bare-chested Teddy kissing him on the forehead. After that: the two holding hands in the snow, holding each other on the grey couch late at night, clutching an umbrella under the teeming rain of London, throwing comics at Albus as he left the flat, James reading a book with his head in Teddy’s lap…
Harry, half conscious and still feeling like his heart was out next to his intestine having never recovered from the fall, gazed at the last photo of the book. There was James, sweet smiling James, leaning over to give Teddy a kiss good morning in the very same kitchen Harry was sitting in. And there was Teddy, brilliantly grinning Teddy, pressing back on James mouth. They separated and Harry read the words on both of their lips, spoken so softly it looked like a prayer -I love you-
As if by magic, but let’s not rule that out just yet, their voices appeared outside the door. The sound of keys hit Harry’s still frozen ears (he hadn’t moved anything except his hands since the initial hit) and he quickly tried to regain his senses, tried to analyze the situation like the sane Auror he was supposed to be.
“-food was late of course, but it was worth it to see Harrods’s face-”
“You really do tease him too much James, he doesn’t deserve-”
“The bloke’s a git and I’m not- Dad?”
Harry glanced at them, up to their wits in grocery bags, smiling and freckled and beautiful. He looked at the pair, and then back down again, at the photo album, at the lives they felt like they had to hide, at the most important thing in their world that no one felt like mentioning to him.
“Didn’t know you’d be over here!” James sounded ecstatic to see his dad, but James was always happy. “Teddy came about an hour ago, surprised me too. I can get you a butterbeer if you want…”
“Hey Harry!” Teddy walked over to him, grin wide. “See you’ve got the best chair. Jamie only has it ‘cause I refused to sit in this pigsty.”
Harry forced a smile on his face, trying to close the book without either of them noticing. Unfortunately James had a sixth sense about books of all kinds and immediately picked up on it.
“What’s that you got there?” he reached over, still smiling. A tug was all it took, a simple pull to get the book lose, one moment for the world to stop. James smile washed away faster than a Firebolt as he stared at himself kissing the man next to him, whispering words of love to one another. Teddy glanced over and followed suit, giving James an unreadable look.
It was silent for only a minute before James exploded, “I’m sorry, gods I’m sorry dad, but I didn’t - I didn’t think, and Teddy just - he’s Teddy, and I can’t even function when he’s not - he’s not around, and I didn’t tell you - we didn’t tell you because - Merlin I’m sorry dad, please, I didn’t mean it, I swear - please don’t make me lose him - please, please-”
Teddy was silent, listening to James babbles. Harry could see it in the eyes that were watching the floor, could tell that Teddy knew he was to blame. He was older, wiser; he should have known to stay away from his godfather’s son.
But for some reason Harry didn’t have it in him to blame anyone.
He stood up steadily, watching James face go pale and determined. Harry walked straight to his son, looked into his warm, brown eyes -so like Ginny- and saw the Gryffindor shine back. Emerald and brown stared for only a second before Harry grabbed James, clutched him to his own chest and hugged him like no tomorrow.
James made a soft noise and as Harry reached out to include Teddy in the embrace, he thought he heard a noise out of him too, but he paid no mind. These were his boys, his beautiful, lovely boys, and if they were in love, well then they were in love.
Both of them began apologizing again, like a bunch of hysterical patients who couldn’t keep their mind straight, but he spoke over them, repeating two words over again until they all just stood silent in the kitchen, accepting each other,
“It’s okay.”