Taking care of myself

Chapter 3: Healing Myself

When James woke up, he could tell something was strange. For one thing, he could tell he had rested well. For another, there was a smallish warm weight against him. He kept his eyes closed as memories from the last few weeks trickled into his conscience. A small smile graced his features as he opened his eyes and looked down at the dark mop of hair. Once more, he cursed the Dursleys for hurting the sweet child beside him. To be honest, he was starting to think of his younger self as more of a nephew or even possibly a son than a miniature version of himself. In this time, the bitter, war torn hero of the wizarding world, Harry Potter would never exist. James knew that he couldn't allow the boy to completely retain his innocence. He knew that the boy would have to be able to kill. However, he fully intended Harry to keep his happiness. He would have to be careful and train him according to his age. For the next two years, James intended to allow him to have his childhood. There would be some important beginners training before he turned seven but the first steps would be enjoyable. He knew the child would love learning how to fly and he would introduce survival fighting as a fun way to exercise. After that the training would get more serious as time went on and he would have to sit the boy down and explain why he was being trained so hard. He did intend for Harry to have as much of a childhood as possible but he would be damned if the child entered Hogwarts as grossly unprepared as he had been. He knew he was playing with fate and that no matter what had happened in the in-between he had won in the end. The sacrifice was just far too great for him to allow. He would have to watch the boy carefully to make sure he didn't start to display any amount of big-headedness or even worse, cruelty. However, looking down at the child now he knew there was no fear of that for at least a few years.

James yawned and stretched, allowing his limbs to pop and creak as a few bones popped back into their proper place. Torture had taken it's toll on him and his body was no longer in optimal shape because of it. He shuddered as he remembered his dream.

Harry flinched as he listened to the heavy footsteps approach. "Great, here the death munchers come again."

He hauled his pain ridden body into a sitting then a standing position as he leaned against a wall waiting. He would not look weak to the enemy. No matter how much he wanted to lay down and die he refused to give up.

The footsteps were right outside his door. As expected, he was incapacitated by a crucitais curse as the men entered. Then the curse was ended and he was lifted to his feet. Harry knew if he resisted he would just be hurt more so he lumbered along with them.

When he got to Voldemort's throne room, he wished he had resisted a bit more. There, kneeling before the snake lord in chains was the most important person in his life. Hermione Granger...

James flinched at the memory and shook his head like a wet dog to clear it. The sleep-warm little body beside him snuffed and rolled over back towards the warm spot.

James grinned and gently shook the boy. "Wakey, wakey time little one." He watched as bleary green eyes opened and the boy peered at him for a moment then blinked. "Good morning, little one."

Harry gave him a cute, tired little smile and yawned. "Mornin." Harry gave him a small hug then climbed out of bed and padded towards his room to get dressed.

James smirked and shook his head. For as long as he could remember, he had been quick to awaken, probably due to the Dursleys banging around and kicking him if he didn't move fast enough. He wondered if water balloons conjured at the boy if he wasn't out of bed quick enough would encourage the child to wake up faster. Still wearing the smirk on his face he got dressed and scrubbed up a little. An ongoing prank war would encourage the boy to learn charms and things faster and, as the twins had proved, pranksters could turn deadly quite quickly. In the war, the Weasley twins and their inventions had taken out innumerable death eaters. Their protection gear was also top notch. The set Harry had worn had been so hardened and charmed that it actually was better than the best dragon hide there was to be had. He went downstairs and found Harry already in the kitchen setting things up. He had not turned on anything. Good. The two worked as a well oiled machine as they prepared breakfast together and very soon they had finished eating.