[Little Seeker] The door crept open quietly, the creak hardly stirring the little boy with a tuft of unruly black hair laying peacefully on the bed, dreaming baby dreams and murmuring baby words. A pair of eyes peeked in on him, before pushing the door further open and surveying his son. Harry James Potter, only 10 months old. James crept in, kneeling by the bed and watching his son’s lips purse and relax as babies do. “Harry Potter…” James murmured quietly, rubbing his stomach, making the little snitches zooming around Harry’s sleeper collide with each other, “One day, you’ll be great,” he patted Harry’s soft skin tenderly. Suddenly Harry’s eyes opened, deep green eyes so pure, they were like tiny emeralds. He saw his father and gave a gurgle. James watched as Harry screwed up his face, fussing and moving moodily, hardly wrinkling the covers. And then he let out an ear splitting scream that James pushed himself away from the bed, landing with a thump on the floor. “Ow,” he said annoyed, rubbing his ears. Harry would always go off at the most unexpected times. He rose up again, patting Harry’s back. But Harry did not calm down. James sighed, and picked up the little bundle, cradling him gently in his arms, “Shh, Harry, you don’t want to wake up your mother,” But James knew Lily was probably already awake, for he heard movement in the next room. He walked around the room, bouncing Harry gently in his arms, crooning to him. The door opened again and Lily appeared, “What did you do?” she asked, surprised, for Harry had suddenly quieted. “I dunno,” James looked amazed at himself, “I think I got it under control. Go back to sleep, love,” “You’re sure?” she walked to them, rubbing James’ arms, and staring in wonder at the little boy, who gazed up innocently at them. “Merlin, he’s just like you,” she whispered affectionately, pushing the tuft of hair out of Harry’s eyes, smiling, “Grumpy little thing, aren’t you?” she wrinkled her nose funnily. “Well, if you’re sure…” she kissed James on the nose and yawned, “Sleep well, dear Harry,” and she kissed him lightly on his forehead before disappearing out the door again. “You shouldn’t have done that mate,” he whispered to Harry, “She’s hardly had a decent night’s sleep because of you,” he looked at him knowingly and Harry just stared at him. “You hungry?” James trooped downstairs and into the kitchen. He pulled out a bottle of milk from the refrigerator and preformed a warming charm on it before lifting the bottle to his son’s mouth. His fingers grasped the air before finally closing around the bottle. James shifted his weight back and froth between his legs, lazily, his eyes closing sleepily. “Harry Potter, one day, you’ll be out of this mess and doing something with your life,” James said sleepily, rocking back and forth absentmindedly, “You’ll be great someday, you watch… You’ll defeat Voldemort once and for all,” James sighed. He felt guilty, having to bring up Harry under such times, dark times. But what could he do… Harry finished the bottle and James put it back in the fridge and carried Harry back up the stairs, who burped merrily, fascinated by the sensation. James really hoped that Harry wouldn’t have to grow up under the oppression of the death eaters and Voldemort. He pictured Harry defeating Voldemort single handedly and smiled. Harry gave a burp, waking James up from his semi-sleep, almost tripping on the stairs. He cursed quietly, covering Harry’s ears, “Don’t tell your mum I said that,” James whispered as he tiptoed passed the door where Lily slept. They slipped back in the other room where Harry had fallen asleep before. James propped Harry on the bed, and wondered over to the shelf. There was a wooden box with a broomstick carved on it. James opened it and pulled out a tiny ball with golden wings. The wings flapped lazily as if it too were still half asleep before picking up speed. “Do you know what this is, Harry?” James asked. Harry reached for his feet and gurgled. James continued, “It’s a snitch, a golden snitch,” James admired the smooth, golden ball before letting go of it suddenly. The snitch zipped away, only to be caught again. James laughed, Harry looked up in fascination. James laughed at the look on Harry’s face and Harry gave an odd smile and a weird noise that might have been a laugh… James looked over at the clock, 1:41am. “You should go to bed, mate. But I have to congratulate you, that was your longest yet!” James swooped down on the little boy and cuddled him affectionately, nuzzling his stomach. Harry giggled and reached for the snitch. James held it out and Harry reached for it was pudgy, baby hands, trying to grasp it, but it flew away before he could grasp it. James caught it very quickly before it zoomed off and again handed it to Harry, wrapping his hands around it and holding Harry’s hands in his own. Harry giggled as the snitch fluttered in his hand, its wings pounding against baby flesh. Harry suddenly let go and it zoomed around the room, watching it happily. James lay down on the bed, watching the snitch zoom franticly around the room, stopping here and there to hang in the air before taking off again. James drifted, Harry gurgling beside him. Harry gave a sudden squeal and pulled James out of unconsciousness again. Harry was holding the snitch where it was fluttering. James shot up, “Did you just catch the snitch?” but Harry had let go of it again and it fluttered around the ceiling. “Accio snitch!” it zoomed back into James’ hand. He stared at it, and then back at Harry, whose robes were fluttering doubles of the ball James held in his hand. “My little seeker!” James ruffled Harry’s tuft of hair, making it stick up messily before Harry fell sideways. Harry was having trouble staying upright still, but no matter. Had he caught the snitch? Or had James still been half asleep? Or perhaps Harry had preformed a bit of magic unknowingly? Either way, it was still enough to amaze him. Harry was a born seeker.
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