A father-son chat Date: July 20, 2001 Time: Evening Characters: James Potter and Harry Potter Rating: PG
James knew he'd resolved to leave Sirius' little music box alone. And he would. So instead he'd gotten one for himself. He'd only gotten about half-way through the stack of records before turning his attention to the perplexing little box. Though he'd been reluctant to pull it apart with magic out of concern for damaging it, the lure of using his wand was steadily growing as the box refused to bend to his will.
Harry was downright upset about his fight with Ron... he walked angrily around London for a bit, and found himself on the doorstep of Grimmauld Place. He thought maybe his Dad and Mum could give him some ideas, maybe cheer him up... even Remus and Sirius. Any of the residents there would be lovely. He knocked at the great door.
He was getting used to the sound of the knock at the door, it no longer inspired the spike of concern it once had. A quick glance through the peek hole inspired a broad grin. "Harry," he greeted after pulling the door open. With a one armed hug he pulled his son inside. The more he saw the other, the more he noticed subtle differences in their features. It wasn't hard to detect the tension that set about him. "Everything all right?" he asked, his voice still pleasant.
"Not really." he said, being pulled into the house. He hugged his Dad tightly, realizing how relieved he was that it was he who opened the door. He realized it was in fact his father he wanted to talk with. "I just had a fight with Ron... not even sure we're mates anymore." he said with a sigh.
His brow furrowed with concern as he pushed the door shut. James had met Ron at Dora's birthday celebration, and he hadn't exactly gotten off on the best foot with James. But still, he was Harry's mates and Remus had remembered him pleasantly enough. "Yeah? What about?" he asked. "Do you want something to drink, tea or anything?"
He nodded. "Yeah... tea would be brilliant, thanks Dad." he said, wandering into the kitchen at Grimmauld Place and flopping down into the chair in a defeated slump. "I just don't know what the hell his problem is. I never see you and Remus and Sirius fighting that way. Of course, you all fight, but you listen to each other. I just don't understand him."
Filling the kettle with water, he set it atop the stove. With something of a sheepish smile he conceded, "Well sure - though when Sirius and I get into it, more likely than not we throw a punch or two before we settle in for a proper listen. Remus... well, Remus is a bit more level-headed." James didn't quite get the impression that Harry and his mates diffused a situation by literally knocking a bit of sense into each other. "What's the trouble, then?"
"I haven't been talking with Ron much lately because until I left Wales and quit the Ministry, I was working 20 hours a week. I barely had time to sleep, let alone spending time with mates. And now he's furious at me and moving out of the flat because he thinks there's no reason to live with me anymore... but he just won't understand, Dad, I dunno what to do. He's mad because I haven't told him I have a girlfriend, but that's such a new thing to even me that I hadn't thought to tell anyone..." he shook his head. He wasn't babbling per se, but he was unloading everything that had happened recently.
It struck James that it couldn't have been a small row for the other to be moving out, but with Harry being pulled out with work all the time, it didn't seem as though there was much he could have done about it. "Do you two get into it often?" he asked. He knew some friendships were little more than a constant series of spats, though it was more than troubling to think that might be the nature of Harry's relationship with his best friend. Then again, some friendships were just as volatile as they were deep. And as much as the word girlfriend snagged at his thoughts, he reckoned the topic could be held for a bit longer.
He sighed. "Well, really, Ron seldom gets on with many people. He's a bit bad tempered, really." he shrugged. "We fight... he's.. well, during the war he turned on me a couple of times. I think it was strain, but I dunno... he's been there for me a lot, but also we've fought a lot. It's been really hard to figure out where he's at." he shrugged.
James made little effort to hide the way his expression darkened when Harry mentioned being turned on. It was not possible to bar the recollection of Peter from his mind, but he knew it couldn't have been like that - not if their friendship had survived. As the kettle began to whistle, he busied himself with the task of doling the hot water into waiting mugs before bringing them over to join Harry at the table. That Harry had, like he, had no brothers was something that made James feel as though his best friend should fill that empty role. "Is it so bad then, a bit of distance? You'd still have your other flatmate, right?" he asked.
"I dunno... I haven't seen Hermione in as long as I haven't seen Ron... I'm not sure if she's mad at me or not." he shrugged. "I doubt it, she's far less hot-headed than he is. I dunno, Dad, maybe it's good. It's not the moving out part that made me angry. Really, he just moved into my flat because once school was done, he and Hermione couldn't afford to live on their own. So they moved in when I bought the flat... for all of us, really. But now I'm happy for him that he's well enough to get his own place. That's not exactly why I was mad." he sighed.
James nodded a bit. It was his first inclination to warily regard those who affronted those close to him. His son should have friend he could count on, no matter the circumstance. "No? Something else?" he asked, prompting Harry to continue.
"It's just that he's so self-centered! He just doesn't think there's anything in the world but his issues... for years I've been listening to him whine about his relationship with Hermione and how it's not going well... now things are all cocked up." he sighed and shook his head. "And yet he doesn't have a word of kindness for me when I'm working 20 hours a day, when I get shipped off to work camp in Wales because I won't tow the Ministry's line. Then I literally have to quit my job just to get time to be with my ill Godson! And then he berates me for being a lousy friend."
James frowned. That wasn't right, not in the slightest. Still, Harry had to care for him, or he likely wouldn't be upset with his leaving. It wasn't that he didn't understand that friends sometimes grew apart, or that sometimes others sought to drive a wedge between them - but sometimes even the best of mates simply weren't cut out to live together. "Maybe it would be easier if you lived separately," James offered. "Sometimes there's just something about sharing a flat with someone that can drive you mad - especially if you've got someone who sounds like they need a bit of minding."