Toes
I posted this tidbit for a little challenge that
govcampbell has going.
Toes
The path was well-worn and, on this day, gratefully dry. Under the swift changes of sun and seasons the woods always seemed to have something new to offer; sight and scent familiar but ever changing. For Harry and Ginny it was a welcome relief and an escape from the hectic life that seemed to race past, the quick closing of a day and the opening of a new in the blink of an eye.
With a slight stitch in his side, Harry put out a hand to steady himself and catch his breath. His fingers came to rest on the rough bark of an oak tree, sending several ants scurrying, though intent still on reaching their destination regardless of the human’s interference.
A moment’s inspiration had suggested the jog up the hillside, though the cold air in his lungs caused him to cough slightly. Taking a last deep breath, he walked the few yards to the top of the hill. As he peaked the crest, warm sunlight greeted him, acknowledging his presence and the crunch of his feet on dry leaves. He smiled slightly, remembering a time when he wouldn’t have been so brazen in his steps, so fast and loud. To pull him away from those thoughts, though, a voice called out behind him.
“Harry, don’t leave us!”
The implication was clear but he knew Ginny wasn’t really angry. He turned, and with a flick of his wand, the pram, which had been floating a few inches off the ground in front of his wife, began to glide silently up the hill. Behind it, Ginny heaved an exasperated sigh and blew a few strands of hair from her face, glaring up at Harry. Then, with the air of one determined not to be shown up, she followed her son, weaving carefully between the trees and fallen logs.
Harry watched in ill-concealed delight as his son drew near. At last, the pram came to a stop, descending slowly to rest on the ground. With another flick of his wand, the top drew back, exposing a familiar shock of black hair and his baby boy, James.
Picking James up, Harry turned to face the light again. The sun’s rays filtered quietly through autumn leaves of amber and russet, bathing the pair in warm rays. An out-of-place snap nearby told him that Ginny had arrived, but he didn’t turn to look. Her sigh and smile appeared by his shoulder and she gazed adoringly at her son.
“My dear, Mrs. Potter,” Harry said in a falsely formal tone. “Why on earth doesn’t our son have any socks on? It’s really rather cold out here for that kind of business.”
Without lifting her head she ran her fingers lovingly across James’ tiny feet. “I just have a thing about toes,” she sighed, then added, “Besides, my warming charm will keep him nice and cozy.”
Harry could only chuckle and wrap his arms around his wife, whispering “I love you” into her hair.