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A Father's Job
By melodylaner

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Category: Post-DH/PM
Characters:All
Genres: General, Humor
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: PG
Reviews: 23
Summary: There are some things a father doesn't look forward to. As a father, Harry Potter is no exception.
Hitcount: Story Total: 7042



Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work.



Author's Notes:
First of all, huge thanks go to sanidad for beta-reading once again.
Now, I was a little disappointed because I didn't get many reviews on my last fic. Maybe it's my fault for not reminding you, but PLEASE review. It means a lot to me. I don't care if it is to sing my praises or tell me to stop writing, just leave a comment. Please, please don't forget to review.(I suck at begging.)




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A Father's Job







“HARRY! COME HERE RIGHT NOW!”

Harry sighed and buried his head in his hands. He had been in his study for two hours, but he did not seem to have made any progress. He hated paperwork, and the fact that his desk was covered with piles of paper was reason enough for him to doubt that the Christmas break was really a holiday.

“HARRY!”

He pushed his glasses up his nose and stood up tiredly. If he could not get any work done, he might as well go and see what had Ginny so worked up.

James, Albus and Lily, who had just started her first year at Hogwarts, had come back from school two days ago, and the atmosphere in the Potter household could not be any better. They had listened to their daughter ramble on about her new friends, classes and being sorted into Gryffindor. Really, they just took in her excited face and laughed with James and Al's funny stories about Quidditch. Al had joined his brother on the Gryffindor Quidditch team this year, playing as a Seeker while James was the head Chaser. Harry knew his fourteen-year-old son would never admit it, but he could see that underneath all the teasing, James could not be any prouder of Al.

Bearing all that in mind, he could not imagine what could be wrong now.

He followed Ginny's voice to the kitchen and walked in cautiously. She was standing near the wooden table clutching something in her hand. She did not look angry. In fact, her expression was a combination of surprise and terror.

“Gin? What is it?” he asked as he approached her.

“Here. Look at this,” she said in a low voice, and held out her hand.

He reached out and took what seemed to be a pink envelope. He turned it around in his hands looking for a clue. He could not understand why a simple letter could upset Ginny so much. Then he noticed two words written in perfect handwriting at the corner of the envelope. To Jamie.

“This is for James?” he asked tentatively.

“Yes,” Ginny murmured and sat down on a chair heavily.

“So, who's it from?” At this point he really dreaded the answer.

“Take a wild guess.”

“Is it detention from McGonagall?” he asked hopefully.

“That wasn't a wild guess. Almost every letter from her concerning James is a detention. And Minerva isn't very affectionate with students who pull pranks on her.”

“Okay, then,” he replied, defeated. “It's from a girl, isn't it?”

“Looks like it.”

Harry raised his eyebrows, knowing that there was more to it.

“I asked Al and he confirmed that James has a girlfriend.”

At that, Harry sighed and collapsed on a chair beside Ginny.

“Makes you wish he was still going through the 'girls are freaky' phase, doesn't it?” Ginny asked bitterly.

“It was great back then.”

Ginny put her head on his shoulder and gave him a look that could not mean anything good.

“You realize you have to give him 'the Talk', right?”

He was right. This was as bad as it could get.

“No way.”

“Oh, come on. It's your job as a father.”

“He's going to make fun of me!” he exclaimed.

“You're afraid of your fourteen-year-old son laughing at you? And they say you're brave!” Ginny gave him an amused look.

Harry glared at her. “You're enjoying this, aren't you?”

“If there's one thing in this situation that's funny, it's you giving James 'the Talk',” Ginny said, barely suppressing her giggles. “Sorry, love.”

Harry considered it for a moment. If he could not get out of it, then the least he could do was ensure that he would not have to do it again.

“Okay, fine. But since I'm doing it, I'll talk to both James and Al and get it over with.”

“No, Al is still innocent. You don't want to give him any ideas. Besides, this is supposed to be a father-son moment. If Al is there too, there's no way James will open up to you,” Ginny reasoned.

“So I have to do it twice?” he asked with a pained expression on his face.

“I'm afraid so,” Ginny said, patting his cheek gently. “Now, go.”

“What? Now?”

Ginny laughed at Harry's horrified face.

“Yes. Didn't you say you wanted to get it over with?”

“I hate it when you do that.” Harry gave her an annoyed look.

“Do what?” Ginny raised her eyebrows in mock question.

“Use my own words against me.”

Harry sighed and stood up slowly. He kissed Ginny's head and started for the door. He wasn't even halfway through the kitchen when he suddenly spun around.

“Maybe he's asleep. It's nearly bedtime. We can talk tomorrow,” he said, hope evident in his voice.

“Not likely. James slept more when he was a newborn than he does now. He's your son, so he knows no bedtimes. Go, Harry.”

“Right. Give me the letter then.”

Ginny handed him the pink envelope silently, and this time he walked out the door without further hesitation.

As he went up the stairs, he thought of how he was going to do it. He could not just walk into James' room and say “Let's talk about sex.” No, that was much too straightforward and he definitely did not have the confidence to do it. He would give him the letter, he decided, and then ask about the girl who sent it and see how things went from there. That was the safest way.

He took a deep breath as he reached James' door and knocked, praying that, for once in his life, his son had gone to sleep early.

“Come in.”

No such luck, apparently.

Harry pushed the door open slowly and stepped into the room. James was kneeling next to his bed, shoving boxes under it in a hurry.

“What are you doing?” he asked his son suspiciously.

“Nothing,” James said smoothly and sat down swiftly on his bed.

Harry gave him a look that clearly meant he was not buying the act. As much as James looked like a younger version of himself, there was a big difference between the two of them, and it was not that James had brown eyes. While trouble seemed to find Harry despite his best efforts to avoid it, James definitely went looking for it.

“What did you hide under your bed?” he demanded.

“Just some stuff Uncle George gave me,” James replied innocently, running a hand through his black hair.

“Well, if that's the case, McGonagall will tell us exactly what it is when she owls us about your detention,” Harry remarked, closing the door behind him.

“Very funny, Dad.” James scowled. “Anyway, what did you want?”

Harry sighed and sat down beside James, who gave him a curious look.

“This came for you,” he said calmly, holding out the letter and looking closely for James' reaction.

He watched his son's eyes widen for a split second, before he composed himself and took the letter from his hand.

“Um, thanks.” James cleared his throat.

Harry could tell that his usually confident son was now full of nerves, as he kept turning the envelope around in his hands awkwardly and carefully avoided eye contact. Still, Harry decided to wait for him to talk. However, as the seconds passed by, it seemed less and less likely that James was going to speak.

Harry was on the verge of standing up and running out of the room, wanting nothing more than to forget this whole thing, when he heard James' voice.

“Is there anything else?” he asked Harry, finally looking up and trying to sound casual.

“Yeah,” Harry answered impatiently. “I was wondering who is entitled to call you 'Jamie,' when you've forbidden your own mother to do so since you were five.”

He mentally scolded himself as the words spilled out. That was too harsh an approach.

He felt James tensing up beside him and he wished he could take it back, but it was too late.

“Just because someone calls me that, doesn't mean that I like it!” James said defensively, glaring at Harry.

He angrily stuffed the letter in his pocket and stood up. Harry cursed inwardly as he saw James sit at his desk and cross his arms over his chest. If his son felt that he needed to put some distance between them, then things were not going very well.

“That's not what I meant, James,” he said, trying to sound calm. “I just wanted to know...”

“What?” James asked glumly, looking at his feet.

“Who sent it to you. The letter,” he breathed.

There. He'd said it.

He watched as a thousand emotions passed over James' face and understood that this was a crucial moment. A big battle was taking place in his son's head. He saw him stealing glances at him, obviously debating whether he could be trusted with such information or not. Harry prayed that whatever the test was, he would pass it.

Finally, James looked up at him fully and met his eyes with that hard blazing look that reminded him of Ginny.

“Maggie,” he said.

Success! Fourteen years of trying to care for and be there for James had paid off. Harry felt like dancing.

“Who's Maggie?” he asked, trying hard not to smile.

“Some girl from school,” said James as he shrugged his shoulders.

It seemed like he would have to drag everything out of him. He wished that James would cooperate a little.

“Is she a friend?” Harry prompted.

“Kind of.” James' face was unreadable.

Harry had brought in Dark wizards who were less evasive than this. All this dancing around the subject was starting to get to him.

“Is she your girlfriend, then?” he asked, in what he hoped sounded like genuine interest and not a parent concerned that his son was growing up too fast.

James studied him for a moment.

“What if she is?” he asked back, challenge evident in his voice.

“Well, I just thought maybe you'd want to talk about it.” he answered nervously. Now that they neared the most embarrassing part of this conversation, he was finding it harder to find the right words.

“I'm not a girl, Dad. Girls discuss this stuff. I'm a guy. I don't kiss and tell.” James smiled slyly.

Harry didn't quite like the mischievous look on his face. It meant that he had realised how uncomfortable he was and was probably planning to take the mickey. He braced himself for the worst.

“Right. Well, how long have you known her?” he asked.

“Just a couple of months,” James replied briskly.

“That's not... very long.” Harry tried not to sound accusing. “I don't understand... I thought you knew everyone in Hogwarts?”

“Everyone in Hogwarts knows me.” James grinned. “I only know some of them. She's in Ravenclaw, anyway. Most of the people I hang out with are in Gryffindor.”

“Don't you think you're moving too fast?” Harry asked tentatively. “I mean, from not knowing each other to dating?”

“What do you mean?” James frowned.

“Nothing,” Harry muttered. “I just thought it would be wiser to get to know her better before you ask her out. Your mum and I had known each other for five years before we got together.”

“That's only because it took you that long to notice her!” James exclaimed in protest.

Would he ever live that down?

“That's not the point,” he sighed. “Forget about me and your mum. The point is that, whatever the reasons, you two are dating and now I have to...” His voice trailed off and he was blushing spectacularly.

“You have to what, Dad?” James asked.

“Well, I...” He really couldn't get the words out.

“Yes?” James encouraged.

Harry exhaled loudly.

“Your mother thinks I should talk to you about sex,” he said, wishing the earth would open up and swallow him.

“Okay,” James said briskly. “Do you have any questions about the act itself or do you just want tips?”

Harry was mortified. He was positive his mouth had reached the floor and his face had turned bright red. His eyes were wide as he looked at James, who seemed really pleased with himself. He cleared his throat quickly.

“Believe me, James, if I needed tips, you wouldn't be here today and neither would Al and Lily.”

Okay, maybe this was taking this whole open-up business too far, but two could play at this game.

James smiled disappeared and now he looked utterly disgusted.

“Thanks for the mental image, Dad,” he snapped.

“You had it coming.” Harry was the one smiling now. “Look, I know this is really embarrassing-”

“You have no idea,” James scolded.

“Actually, I do. You should consider yourself lucky. I had 'the Talk' with the man whose daughter I was dating. Talk about embarrassment.”

“Granddad gave you 'the Talk?' Really?” James asked curiously.

“Yeah."

“Well, what did he say?”

“Pretty much what I'm trying to tell you now. Except it was more awkward.”

“Did he tell you to wait 'til you and Mum were married?”

James seemed really interested in his answer. In fact, the last time he had seen James this interested in a conversation with him, was when he had told him about the Horcrux hunt.

“No,” Harry answered. “He told me to wait until I was sure I loved her.”

“Oh.”

James seemed at a loss for words. Harry heard him clear his throat nervously and waited.

“So do you... um ... have to love somebody to...?” he trailed off.

“Well, technically, no. But it's better when you do,” Harry said honestly. “It's more meaningful that way.”

“But what if you don't find someone that you love? Or what if you do when you're older? Not everyone finds the love of their life at sixteen like you and Mum. Shouldn't you have some experience when you finally meet that person?” James asked in one breath.

“I can't really answer that, James. It is your choice when, where and with whom you have sex for the first time, or any time. You choose if you want to wait for the woman that you'll fall in love with. I just want you to be prepared, whatever you decide,” Harry answered seriously.

“Okay,” James whispered. “What do I need to know?”

Harry sighed. “I'm only going to say these things once, so you'd better pay attention.”

Twenty minutes later Harry walked into his bedroom to find Ginny wide awake. She was sitting on their bed, reading a book and obviously waiting for him. She looked up instantly and put the book on the nightstand.

“How did it go?” she asked eagerly.

“Obliviate me now,” Harry muttered, as he closed the door behind him and started changing into his pyjamas.

“Oh, come on. It can't be that bad,” Ginny said, biting her lip. Harry could tell that she was trying very hard not to laugh.

Harry glared at her before putting on his pajama bottoms and getting into bed. Ginny slipped closer to him and ruffled his hair soothingly.

“What did he say?” she asked.

“He offered me tips!” Harry exclaimed, looking at the ceiling. “Can you believe our son? Honestly! I don't need tips!” He waited for Ginny to back him up. When several seconds passed and she didn't speak, he turned to her anxiously. “Do I?”

Ginny burst out laughing.

“Of course not! You should have seen your face! It was priceless!”

Harry exhaled in relief. “Do you think this is funny?” he asked.

“Oh, yes.” She grinned mischievously.

“Of course you do. You're not the one who had to teach him the Contraceptive Charm while he made smart comments about where he should point his wand!”

“He didn't!”

“He did.”

Harry felt Ginny shaking against him with silent laughter while she tried to keep a straight face.

“Stop it.”

“Sorry,” she said, running a hand down his chest. “Are you sure you covered everything?”

“Yeah. I'm not sure he's going to wait for the right girl, but at least we won't be having any grandchildren anytime soon,” he answered, stroking her back slowly.

“Good,” she whispered. “Now come here and show me that you don't need any tips.” She pulled him on top of her and Harry brought his lips to hers with a groan.

“Gladly.”


-Fin-
Reviews 23
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