The Potters

Talk in the Snow

After searching the Burrow top to bottom, Harry made his way outside with a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. The sudden silence shocked his ears, compared to the cheery atmosphere within. He drew his coat around him and set down the path, calling out every few metres in the hope that James would come to his senses and reply. 

'Where is he?' Harry mumbled to himself. The cold bit into him as it began to snow again, making him long for the warmth of inside.

A crack sounded in the air and Harry spun around to see Charlie standing in front of him, adjusting a bag on his shoulders and smiling at the burrow. He glanced behind him and jumped to see Harry there, before extending a hand. 

"Merry Christmas Harry!" Charlie exclaimed, shaking his hand and beaming. "How come you're out here?"

"Needed to get some air," Harry lied again. A pang of guilt hit him and he sighed. "Well, actually I'm a son down." 

Charlie furrowed his brow in confusion. "How come?"

"We don't seem to get on particularly well, James and I. He's gone walk about and I said to Ginny I'd come find him."

Charlie smiled and clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I'm  sure you'll figure something out. I'd better get inside. Mum doesn't think I'm coming and Bill says you've already opened presents. I'm supposed to be hers." 

He laughed and with a last greeting, he turned and began to walk towards the burrow. Harry sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. Alone again, he looked around him and decided to head towards the fields around him. If someone were to hide, that would be the place. Harry walked for a long time, calling out every so often and rubbing his hands together in the freezing air. There was a rustle in the wheat and he spun on his heels, listening carefully. A low mumbling was coming from within the crop and Harry followed it, stopping every once in while to check which direction it came from. He broke into a clearing and there sat James, sitting on the ground hunched over, running a stick through the fresh snow.

"Go away. I don't want to talk to anyone," James growled, turning to look up at the intruder and frowning at the sight of Harry. "Oh. It's you."

Harry said nothing but moved forward, sitting beside his son and watched the patterns James was making. A long silence spread between them.

"Hey James?" No reply. "Did I ever tell you about my first Christmas at Hogwarts?"

James shook his head. "I don't care, dad."

"Come on, James. So my first Christmas at Hogwarts was in my eyes, my first Christmas. Your grandma, she made me a jumper and this giant box of homemade fudge," Harry laughed. "She didn't have to. She didn't even know me. But she did. And I felt so happy, because I felt like I belonged somewhere."

"Why are you telling me this, dad?"

"Because that's exactly what I want you to feel, James. Not excluded, not isolated, but part of something."

James sighed. "You don't get it, dad, do you?"

"What don't I get James? Maybe if you just tell me, I can help."

"It's not that I hate you. Or Mum, or Al, or Lil. It's just... When I'm at school, people don't want to get to know me. They want to know all about you, what its like to have a famous dad, whether you're just like anyone else.  They don't care about me. I'm just the Chosen One's son..."

Harry felt a pang in his heart. This was the most honest James had ever been with him. He'd just thought it was teenage hormones, maybe even a bit of rebellion. But there sat his son, surrounded by people who loved him, but in reality, felt isolated and unwanted.

"James..." Harry started.

"It's okay, dad," James shrugged. "I'll get used to it. It's not your family that no one cares."

There was a small pause from Harry.

"James?"

"Yeah?"

"What's your favourite food?"

"What?" James gave him a quizzical look.

"What's your favourite food?"

James thought for a moment. "Chocolate frogs."

"Chocolate frogs.... See, I've always been partial to treacle tart myself."

James laughed. "Why'd you ask?"

"Well, you said no one wanted to know about you. And I do."

James smiled. "Thanks, dad."

"Now I think we better go inside before your Grandma Weasley goes crazy, don't you agree?"

Harry stood and offered a hand to James, who took it and hoisted himself up. Then the two trod through the fresh snow towards the Burrow, closer than ever.