Lily wanted to know everything and nothing about Harry. She was thirsty for details about how he’d grown up, what he was like, what he looked like, but at the same time, she was afraid. A mother should know that sort of thing about her own son, shouldn’t she? She shouldn’t have to hear about it from he granddaughter. The circumstances couldn’t have been helped, and Lily knew it, but she felt a guilt immeasurable as she listened to the stories of her son. But a heavy mess of guilt wasn’t the only sensation she felt swirling through her. She was filled with pride as she heard of all that Harry had done. Grown up well. Started a pseudo-Order! Defeated the only monster wizarding Britain had seen since Grindelwald on his own. Become a father himself.
She didn’t dare look at her husband or her granddaughter. Tears had welled in her eyes but she kept them there, permitting them nothing more than to blur her vision for a few moments. Hearing what James was going on about wasn’t helping – she remembered that macaroni picture (a masterpiece depicting Sirius and James, or their macaroni counterparts, on brooms…’least that’s what James had said it was) The other Lily’s comment about her getting some of her red hair from this Lily did help keep those pesky tears at bay, because Lily couldn’t help but let out a throaty laugh at that thought. “I guess having a thing for redheads runs in the family too, then,” she laughed. “I’m proud of that. But your grand—“ oy, this was going to take some getting used to, “dad is right. We’ve been proud of Harry since the day he was born. Before then, even. He had us wrapped around his little finger before it was properly developed. All that you just said – it’s incredible. Like really excellent, out of this world icing on top of an already good cake.”
Her eyes drifted back down to Lily’s ankle when James made another comment on it, and the rate at which it was swelling made them bug out a bit. She was glad it was dark, didn’t want to scare the young girl. She had thought the ankle was just sprained, but the swelling and the pain across her face suggested it was a break. She was still looking down at the ground at it when James started on Quidditch again.
“Oh, good grief,” she muttered with a shake of the head. It was all in good fun though. She quite enjoyed hearing them go back and forth on it.