The Cupboard Under The Stairs
Summary: One Night, when a storm comes in the middle of the night, Harry finds his son hiding from a thunderstorm in a place that use to hold so much emotion for him. FatherxSon bonding. Fluff.
Disclaimer: Sadly, I am not J.K. Rowling. If I was I would own Harry Potter.
I woke to the loud rumble of thunder. Snapping my eyes open, I reached for my wand until I realized that it was only thunder. I sighed. Old habits die hard. Even all these years later, I was still on edge. I don't think being an auror helped with that aspect either. I rolled over to find my wife, Ginny, still asleep; her long fiery tendrils of hair were spread about her, her eyelids covering her warm chocolate brown eyes. I smiled at her sleeping form and then at the small bump of her stomach under the sheets.
We were going to have another baby.
That thought reminded me of my first child; my James. Worry set in on me. Jamie was afraid of thunderstorms. He had always been, even before he was born it seemed like. Even when Ginny was pregnant with our first son, every time a storm blew in; our son would kick and move around like crazy inside of her womb. At first, we thought he liked the noise of the thunder striking the ground; that was until he was 3 days old and we couldn't get him to stop crying while a storm raged outside.
I was actually surprised that I hadn't heard the sound of pattering feet heading into our room yet. Thunder rumbled again and lightening flashed outside. Maybe I should go and check on him. I gently kissed Ginny on the cheek and then slid out of bed.
I didn't have to go into James room to know he wasn't there. His blankets were missing from his small bed and I spotted his small stuffed dog, Snuffles (which eerily looked a lot like Padfoot), down the hallway towards the stairs. Jamie hardly went anywhere without Snuffles...he must have dropped him on the way down the stairs.
I snatched up the toy dog and held him in one hand as I tiptoed down the stairs. I listened for any noise that could tell me my 3 year old sons' whereabouts. At first it was silent and then their was a loud crash of thunder and a bright flash of light from outside; which caused a muffled yelp to come from the cupboard under the stairs.
I knew exactly where my 3 year old was now and I knew the state he was in...and I had to stop him from being scared. I just had too.
I quickly made my way around the corner and to the cupboard door. A faded light was on inside and I could see my sons' red quiditch blanket partially spilling into the hallway from inside the cupboard.
"Jamie?" I whispered soothingly as I opened the cupboard door just enough to peak inside.
And there was James. His black hair as untidy as ever, his brown eyes that matched Ginny's red with tears, his cheeks tear stained. He was curled up with his blanket wrapped around him in a protective cocoon with a small muggle flashlight in his hand.
"Daddy?" Jamie whimpered. I smiled softly and ducked inside.
"Shh, buddy. What's wrong? Is it the storm?" I asked as I squeezed in next to my son who crawled into my lap as soon as I was seated. I handed him Snuffled which he squeezed around the neck tightly as he cuddled into my chest. He nodded at my question as his body shook in fright.
"It'll be alright, Jamie. Nothing's going to hurt you while I'm here." I told him as I wrapped my arms around him and cradled him.
The storm outside sent a rumble of thunder again and a flash of light illuminated from under the cupboard door. James shook as a sob escaped from his lips. I started to rock him back and forth; trying to calm my frightened child just like I had when he was just three days old again. Oh, how time seemed to fly by.
I wonder if this was how my mother had held me before Voldemort had come in and...maybe. How odd it seemed to be sitting in a place that I had spent most of 10 years of my life in, giving comfort to someone when I had registered this place originally with not comfort, but abuse. But, then again it was a nice change.
For ten years of my life, I had been forced to live in the cupboard under the stairs at my Aunt and Uncle's house, while my cousin had two bedrooms. It was a place where I had dreamed of unknown relations at the time, like Sirius or Remus, to come and take me away...to rescue me. It was a place where I had cried myself to sleep in misery on more than one occasion. It was a place where I was starved and to as a punishment.
But now it was different...it was better.
Now, I was sitting here, with my beautiful son. My three year old, little Jamie in my lap as I rocked him while he cried because he was scared of the thunderstorm outside, such an innocent fear. Other than my sons quiet sobs which I tried to soothe, the rest of the house was silent with the exception of the occasional rumblings of thunder from outside.
Yes, this was diffidently a much better way to have to spend time in a cupboard under the stairs. I knew I had a bright future. There was hope. I didn't have to slave away for the Dursleys' anymore. I didn't have to be stressed out about what Voldemort's net move was.
All I had to do, was sit here with a boy (who I was determined to love with everything I have) while he hugged onto his stuffed animal and cried and I shushed him softly.
And I loved every minute of it.
A/N: (What do you all think? I thought it would be a sweet little one-shot. I'm actually home sick today and it sucks, but what better way to pass the time than to write, right? Anyways, read, favorite, review. Thanks for reading. Over and out. S.A.M.)