“Pity it’s raining,” Lily sighed, tracing the trail of a raindrop on the window with her finger. “I wanted to take Harry out trick-or-treating.” She glanced down at the little boy lying on his stomach on the floor, and gently gathered him in her arms.
“I, for one, am not complaining,” James said sternly. “No son of mine is going outside the house dressed as a
fairy.”
Lily closed her eyes exasperatedly. “It was a
bumblebee costume, James. Harry would have looked adorable.” James grinned.
“I love you, darling, but…let’s just say it’s in the public’s best interest for you to be kept far,
far away from a needle and thread when it comes to Harry’s Halloween costumes.” Lily hit him lightly on the shoulder, balancing her son in the crook of her arm.
“He’s three months old, James. I doubt he’s going to care what his costume looks like.” She glared at him as he laughed. “
Sirius thought it was sweet.”
“Ah, but he only said that because he was worried you’d revoke his godfather privileges if he didn’t,” James replied wisely. “Speaking of which, where is that mangy cur?”
“I told him to come after nine if he’s expecting to open our expensive bottle of bourbon,” she said, smiling slightly. “I want Harry asleep before the alcohol comes out.” James rolled his eyes.
“What’s he going to do, run and grab the bourbon when we’re not looking?” He gazed at Harry, letting his son wrap his tiny hand around James’s index finger. “You wouldn’t do that, would you, Harry?”
“Bababa,” Harry replied frankly, his green eyes focused on James, entranced.
Lily half-laughed, feeling enormously proud of his babbling. “You’re such a daddy’s boy, aren’t you?”
“Baba,” Harry whispered. A string of drool hung off his bottom lip.
“You’ve got to deny it, Harry, or your mummy will never forgive you,” James said, mock-severely. “Can you say,
Mummy?”
“Baaa!” the baby shrieked, yanking James’s finger into his mouth sharply and biting down.
“Merlin’s arse!” James swore, tugging his finger back. "That
hurt!”
“Don’t swear in front of him, James,” Lily ordered reproachfully. “You’re such a wimp—Harry doesn’t even have teeth yet.”
“He might as well,” her husband replied darkly as he inspected his finger. There was a flash of light outside the window, followed by a deep, loud rumbling of thunder. Harry buried his face in Lily’s shoulder.
“I think it’s somebody’s bedtime,” she sighed, hiding a smile.
“Right.” James ran a hand through his hair. “You put Harry to bed, Lily, and I’ll go entertain Sirius.”
“He’s not even here yet! Plus, you did the entertaining last time…” Lily grumbled, though she took Harry to the bedroom anyway. James struggled to hide his grin of satisfaction, and sat down on the chair.
“It’s not very gentlemanly to have your wife do all the work.”
James nearly flew out of his chair.
“Padfoot! You son of a—“
“Don’t let Lily catch you swearing in front of Harry,” Sirius interrupted, sitting across from James.
“When did you get here?”
Sirius grinned. “A few moments ago, just in time to watch poor Lily leave with my godson.” James bit his lip guiltily.
“Should I go in there?”
“Nah, mate. You’d just trip over something and wake him up.” Sirius leaned the chair back, balancing it on the back two legs. “Did Harry get a chance to dress up in his fairy outfit, or did the thunder save him?”
“It’s
not a fairy costume,” Lily huffed as she entered the room. Turning to James, she added, “Harry went out like a light. I’ve got a feeling that means he’s waking up extra early tomorrow.” James’s groan was drowned out by another grumble of thunder. Lily tensed, listening for Harry’s cries, and relaxed visibly when they never came.
“What’s say we crack open that bourbon now?” Sirius suggested. Lily smiled ruefully as she stood up.
“Only
you, Padfoot, could drink that stuff straight.”
James frowned defensively. “
I can drink it straight.” Even though she was in the kitchen, they could hear her scoff.
“James, you can barely drink Rosmerta’s mead straight.”
“She’s right, you know,” Sirius said solemnly, quirking an eyebrow. Lily came out with the drinks and three glasses. “I’ll serve, if you don’t mind,” Sirius added.
“I don’t want a headache tomorrow, Padfoot,” she warned. Sirius pretended not to hear her and poured each of them a healthy-sized glassful.
“To Hallow’s Eve,” he intoned, raising his glass. The glasses clinked, sloshing a few drops of drink on the table. Another round of thunder sounded as Lily took a small sip, and from across the hall there was a loud wail.
“Damn it,” Lily murmured under her breath. James and Sirius grinned.
“
Don’t swear in front of Harry!”