Harry Potter- The New Prophecy

The Wedding

February 16th, 2010
Harry stood in front of the full-length mirror inside his bedroom at Grimmauld Place. The wedding would take place at Shell Cottage in just under an hour, and while Harry and the rest of the men were getting ready here, the women were getting ready over there.

"Brush your hair!" The mirror barked, reminding Harry of his Uncle Vernon. Why he had ever let Ginny talk him into buying one of these mirrors, Harry didn't know. It seemed to do nothing but insult him.

Harry took a comb off of the dresser and did his best to flatten his hair, but it was no use.

"You know," a voice said from the doorway, "that isn't going to work."

In the full-length mirror, Harry could see the reflection of his father. He leaned against the door, arms crossed across his chest, and a cocky grin on his face. His own hair stuck up in every direction, just like Harry's, and it was almost like looking at a younger version of himself.

"You don't say," Harry sighed as he tossed the comb to the side and worked at straightening his tie.

"The Potters curse, your grandmother used to call it." James chuckled. He made his way over to the mirror and threw an arm around his son. "Passed down from generation to generation of Potter boys, it was no wonder my father worked so hard to find a solution. I, on the other hand, never saw it as a curse at all. The ladies all loved it, including your mother. She would never admit it, but she was glad you inherited the so-called 'curse.' Most babies your age were bald. People used to stop us on the street all the time to fuss over how much hair you had. Your mum loved it so much, she was dreading your first haircut. It took weeks of pestering her and someone mistaking you for a girl before she finally agreed. Still didn't stop her from sobbing the entire time. She swore up and down that she'd be better prepared for your second haircut. Of course, we weren't around for that." James sighed as he straightened his son's tie. "Now look at you. All grown up. It seems like only yesterday when you were drooling all over my new dress robes, and now you have more experience in the world than I do."

Harry couldn't help but laugh. "Is that your way of calling me old?"

"Course not," James grinned. "If anyone's old, it's that mutt of a godfather of yours. But don't tell him I said that. He was always far too concerned about growing old."

As Harry looked at his and his father's reflections in the mirror, he couldn't help but smile. Aside from the awkward age gap, this was how things were supposed to be. He had always wished his parents had been there for his and Ginny's wedding, and now they would be.

"I DON'T WANNA!" Jamie's screams echoed throughout the house. "AND YOU CAN'T MAKE ME."

The door flew open, and in stormed Jamie, wearing nothing but his niffler underwear. He was closely followed by Teddy, who was holding a pair of dress robes, an irritated look on his face.

"Daaad," Jamie whined. "Teddy's being a prat."

"Am not," Teddy hissed. "You're the one who won't put on your dress robes."

"Because I don't wanna wear them, and you can't make me." He turned to Harry. "Tell him he can't make me, Dad. Tell him!"

"I'm just trying to help," Teddy insisted. "My dad said to help."

Harry sat back down in his wheelchair and sighed. "James Sirius Potter," he said firmly. "There is no need for name-calling. Apologize to Teddy."

Jamie crossed his arms and threw himself onto the bed. "Sorry," he said, though he didn't look to be sorry at all.

"Now why don't you want to wear your dress robes?" Harry asked his son. "Your grandma Molly picked them out just for you, and she'll be very disappointed if you don't wear them."