tampered | Log; Completed

When; August 29 ~Reading Mindness~
Rating; PG
Characters; Harry Potter xtheboywholived & James Potter snitch_seeker01
Summary; James and Harry take a walk to...bond? The bloody curse messes everything up.
Log;

James stood there, still not quite knowing how to react around his son. A part of him felt as though he were supposed to be an adult, fatherly toward his son, but he felt like that would be denying who he was. He wasn't an adult, he wasn't a father (not yet anyway); he was a fifteen year old boy, a Marauder... The Marauder.

The only thing he could think to talk about was quidditch. James loved quidditch and naturally, his son would as well. It was the only subject that would keep James safe; keep him from prying into the future.

"So, Harry, tell me about the house team. I hear you play?" He interrupted the quiet walk toward the fountain; evidently, Harry felt the situation a tad awkward as well.

Harry looked over at the fountain to keep his eyes wandering over James; again blurry images glided across the surface, tempting him, daring him to look. He wanted desperately to go closer, but Sirius had warned him, and for once he was going to listen.

"Well, not much this last year. I got kicked off the team." he sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets to keep them from fiddling with themselves and giving off his nervousness. Talking to his father about Quidditch... One more thing he never thought possible...

James' jaw visibly dropped. 'Okay, okay' he thought quickly. 'Either it was something bad against quidditch...MAYBE HE CHEATED! Or maybe, he did something so incredible, they had to remove him as to not give the team mates a complex.' He didn't know if he should have been proud or if he should be ashamed.

"What could you have possibly done to get kicked off?" was all he could manage.

Harry frowned and his fists clenched. "I beat the hell out of Malfoy for insulting my mum."

An insane amount of pride overwhelmed James. He hadn't felt this great since Gryffindor won the quidditch cup his first year as captain. Suddenly, an uncontrollable smile broke out over his face.

"Good lad!" He beamed and punched Harry's shoulder playfully. "Well then, other then this year, how's the team?"

Harry smiled in spite of himself, and for a moment, he almost forgot it was his father he was speaking to. "The team’s great. Our old captain was a bit mental, and our new one's taken after him I guess..."

Harry's smile relaxed a bit; Was this all he could think to say about his team at the moment?

There wasn't much more to say about quidditch; Harry seemed tight-lipped about it.

"So, tell me about the future." He knew he shouldn't have, but James had been itching to ask since he first met the boy. Plus, all these twerps from the future kept rambling on about Padfoot and Moony...hell, even SNAPE was included in topics. "Why do you and your friends talk a bout my friends and my enemies? Where the bloody hell am I?" James wanted love too...but it was like he didn't exist. "I demand to be talked about!"

Harry stopped moving as soon as the words left James' lips. He hadn't been squirming, but going from partial movement to stock-still in a matter of seconds was definitely going to send off warning sparks.

No, remember what Hermione said. You can't tell him the truth... he repeated to himself for what seemed like the billionth time in the past couple of days.

Another part of him was still being stubborn.

But if he knew... If he knew what happened... his fists clenched at the thought of Wormtail running off to Voldemort, betraying his parents, condemning Sirius...

Harry couldn't look at James. "Look, there's..." he paused, staring at his feet. "There's a reason why no one talks about you." he paused again, trying to keep his voice calm.

"But I can't tell you why." he finished, daring to hope James wouldn't look his way and see his burning face. He wiped at the eye James couldn't see.

"What?" James screamed, drawing the attention of the few people around them. "Carry on!" He yelled at the people and looked back at Harry. "W-wait just one bloody minute...something clearly bad happened and you won't tell me, ME, your own bloomin' father because some GIRL tells you not to!" He glared slightly, "Yet she can tell us about you being my son and about Evans finally admitting her undying love for me."

He stopped himself. James wasn't exactly used to feeling like this. Ever since he came to this city, a strange depth had overtaken him; he had strange feelings like he had never experienced.

He looked at Harry, concern in his eye. "Listen to me Harry, so long as you're happy in the future, so long as I know everything is okay, you don't have to tell me a bloody thing." James put his hands in his pockets and turned around. "If that's all, I'd like to eat something. I'm hungry."

Well I'm not. Harry thought defiantly, wiping at his eye again while James' back was turned.

James quickly spun around. He wished he was taller so he could look down at the boy, but they were just about at eye level. He cocked his eyebrow, expecting an explanation. "Oh?"

Harry stared at James the way he guessed many people stared at him. "What?"

At the sight of his fathers scowl he continued, "I didn't say anything."

"Yes you did."

Harry continued to stare. "No, I didn't."

"Yes, yes you did." James insisted. "You told me tht you were miserable."

"What?" He and James were now holding something of a staring contest between each other; Harry searching for a cause of his fathers annoyance at him, and James scowling in frustration with his son.

No wonder everyone thinks I'm mad... Harry thought irritably, My father's mental.

"EXCUSE ME!?" James shouted in yet another outburst. "I am not! People think you're mad because you are!"

Harry paused, staring at James in shock. "You do realize my mouth wasn't moving just then." he said, taken aback.

"I am not mental! I heard-" Then, James realized what must have been happening. "Bloody city with its ruddy curses!" 'I should be used to this.' He thought.

"Used to what?" Harry asked in confusion, "What's going on with the city?"

"Us blokes get randomly hit with curses that there are no cures for; you just have to wait it out for about a day. It's bloody annoying if you ask me, but the gods get a kick out of it, I suppose." He shook his head; this was a tangent as far as he was concerned. "Don't try to change the subject. What is it, you and Evans hate me? Is that why I'm outcast?"

Harry looked at his feet again, choosing to ignore the new information about the city. Truth be told he didn't really care much about where he was at the moment, just who he was with.

"You're not an outcast," he began slowly. "I am."

"Like I believe that! No son of mine would ever be an outcast. So, tell me, why do your friends know the Marauders minus Prongs?"

Harry looked at James, trying to think of a way to tell him he couldn't tell him.

After a moment he sighed, realizing there was no way his father was letting him out of this. "Because they've never met you."

James just stared at him, not knowing how to take the information. "How could you be ashamed of me?!"

"I'm not ashamed of you!" Harry snapped. He floundered for something to say, something that could satisfy James but would point to absolutely nothing truthful. He couldn't.

It's nothing like that... he thought sadly, still trying to concoct something to tell his father instead of the truth.

'Wizard's have gone mad, Harry.' Hermione's words floated at the back of his mind, making him feel guilty for saying as much as he already had.

Although it's her fault he's curious in the first place... he thought angrily, Surprise she hasn't told them all about Sirius already!

"What does Padfoot have to do with this? Your friend already told us he's chased by dementors. But we're talking about me Harry, me." James looked almost hurt that Harry wouldn't tell him.

'I suspect it would be too great to ask for my son to have been Marauder quality.'

He frowned at James. "Maybe it is." he shot, walking past James, intending on leaving. Somewhere, anywhere, it didn't matter.

He had to talk to Hermione.

"FINE!" James shouted at Harry's retreating form. "Be happy not being happy! See what I care; I don't!"

James didn't understand, if Harry told him, they could work out how to change it, making Harry's future better; as well as James'. Plus, Padfoot was involved. James didn't want anything bad to happen to his best mate; being chased by the foulest creatures ever quite classified as bad.

'Stubborn prat!' James thought as loud as he could, hoping Harry would hear him. 'Accept the consequences!'

"Yes, Dad." Harry shot as he kept walking away, now in a completely sour mood. He stomped away from James, away from the tempting fountain, and away from something he never thought he'd leave behind once he'd found it.

James glared at Harry's back. He was left with his thoughts; what bad things happened to make Harry so irritable, why wasn't James known? 'What the bloody hell is going on?' This city just got worse by the minute.

Pulling out his snitch, James walked around, refusing to return to the flat. Needing to be alone was one of those odd feelings that James had only begun to feel in the city. Usually, Padfoot would cheer him up and they'd drink butterbeer, laugh at whatever stupid things were happening. Now, everything was different; relationships, friendships, people...

James shuddered at the thought,

...The Marauders were different.