#is it a bird is it a plane no it's sirius being sirius and muggles confused af

[loonyloopylupin96]

[siriusmydeer]

my pretty witch

james potter x fem!reader

summary: james shows you how beautiful your body is.

word count: 2.8k

warnings: soft dom!james, sub!reader, fingering, fem!receiving oral, body insecurities, self doubt, missionary, penetration, marking, daddy kink, kissing, praise, mentions of sickness, wolfstar mention <3

note; requested.

the birds were singing, the sun was glowing, it was the most memorable saturday of the spring season.

students were speaking amongst themselves as the birds were increasingly chirping and the glinting sun that was only visible hanging planet in the sky that was emitting shimmering rays upon the two girls sitting amongst themselves. the faint gust of wind peering as subtle background noise whilst the rest of the courtyard was trifling around on the weekend.

“'m not sure lils, i just feel— it’s hard to explain.” you began to explain with an expression of embarrassment starting to linger on your face, a simple yet prying conversation amongst the ginger whilst you both sat upon the fresh-cut grass upon the millions of acres that belonged to hogwarts.

students of hogwarts were fairly spaced out upon the yard, as well as corridors and the library with madame pince no doubt hurrying them away to keep the tranquility rather in unbroken, as it was one of the first warm days for weather since the scotland air was filled with ivory flecks that completely covered the viridescent grounds.

almost no gryffindor peers around only the two of you insight. james, remus, peter, and sirius had all made their way closer to the quidditch pitch the minute they left breakfast; mainly so james could practice alongside sirius, and they could prance around the pitch on their brooms like first years who had just learned how to fly, as remus and peter watched. mainly peter, remus had cracked open his most latest read as soon as he sat upon the stands whilst faintly blushing from time to time at sirius’ winks and irritatingly pleasant wolf whistles.

what you hadn’t known was james leaving his mates with each other slightly earlier than expected in a quest for his girlfriend.

he had a glistering grin formed on his lips after catching sight of you speaking amongst lily. he was ready to parade over to you and boast about his newest quidditch tricks he had learned whilst sitting upon your lap ruining the serene aura that swarmed around your conversation with the ginger.

the deviant sun flickered delicate rays over your figure, to james you were effortlessly gleaming in the golden hues that radiated upon your skin.

his girl.

how could someone be so utterly beautiful?

the only thing diminishing his smile from the apex of his lips was when he was close enough to catch wind of your conversation with the gryffindor.

“i don't want him to think ‘m disgusting or anything! i just— i have stretch marks and stuff. i don't wanna be unappealing or something.” you whined following a groan whilst tilting your head back, covering your eyes at the slowly sinking sun radiating into your irises.

lily gaped at you befuddled before speaking, “but i mean, you’ve had sex before—” she spoke rather boisterously, you rapidly took the palm of your hand, clutching it over her mouth before she removed it and continued speaking, “and he's never been ‘disgusted’ or anything prior.” she finished in a whisper at your widen eyes; your face contorting into fear, afraid someone had heard what she said.

“’m just nervous that just because he doesn't express anything, doesn't mean he doesn't think it.” you chewed heavily at the skin of your peeling lips before applying a fresh layer of chapstick to the chapped cushions.

the awareness of your pending stress began to become overwhelming in your veins as you expressed your concerns to lily.

the bespectacled boy less than ten feet away from you tremendously creased his features in bewilderment, his face almost permanently contorting into a grueling grimace. did he ever do anything to make you think you were undesirable to him? you were quite literally an angelic essence that roamed the acres of hogwart’s at every waking moment of the day, it was like he had won the lottery, (something muggle-like you had mentioned to him) when you had agreed to go on a date with him.

and now you suspected something he couldn't even imagine in a nightmare.

he stayed a moment longer, listening to you drone on upon the fact he might've found you horrid or repelling. his psyche opting to trudge back to the gryffindor towers where he had originally planned to meet with you after your meet-up with lily.

what decision could've reveled in your mind to decide that he might've thought grueling thoughts on the certain aspects of your psychical appearance that he particularly found beautiful. your personality was captivating, of course. but that didn't mean he wouldn't bore his eyes into your figure trying to memorize every micro-detail of you and your features. any juncture of time he had with you he would spend adorning every aspect of you, when you happen to be separated he would spend his mind fulfilling images of you.

there wasn't one moment where he wasn't thinking of you.

and there wasn't one singular nanosecond he didn't think you weren't a goddess walking the earth.

even before you had brushed your teeth on particularly rough mornings before classes when the mangled tuffs of your hair that clung to your roots before brushing it, even when you were blowing your nose and heaving the tissues onto the ground when you were adamantly sick and you couldn't even whiff the most pungent scents; you were angelic.

so how in merlins name would you think so negatively of yourself?

james proceeded to haul his legs in pacing motions across the floor whilst he awaited your presence in the vermillion stricken common room. his thoughts overwhelming him on the mere thought of you and your psyche negatively impacting every nook and cranny of your mind-- which he would opt to remove any moment he got the chance to.

at the tumble of his limbs moving around the common room he heard a similar pair of footsteps enter the common room, “you alright, love?” you inquired gently, your figure tremendously slouched and drowsy after being in overwhelming embarrassment, the quick spin of his figure catching your attention.

“should i not have—” you initiated to speak again, your words almost completely disorganized, speaking first rather than overthinking your words at his slight apprehensive behaviors since you had arrived mere seconds ago.

“i love you,” he began, now walking over to your tense figure, “and you're my person,” said james in a rapid pace, the words of his tongue rolling off haphazardly. you began to crease your eyebrows confusedly at his confession, his hands deciding to sit on both sides of your fragile jaw that began to clench in the encasement of his palms.

you were adamantly confused at where his arbitrary confession had sprouted from, and the intentions behind it.

“’m quite aware, yes?” you sighed in the duration of your sentence recalling the conversation over your appearance with lily just a few minutes ago, now defiantly looking at your shoes before speaking again. “why the sudden confession, james?” you inquired again, this time sorrowfully.

“’m not an eavesdropper or anything,” he began to defend himself, seeing your eyes hastily peer ascent to him along with the widening of your eyes, “but, i— i heard what you said to lily.” he finished his sentence wistfully. you respired heavily for a moment, your hands now clutching onto his that remained laid onto your complexion.

“just, i dunno. ignore my thoughts, they’re stupid.”

his eyes proceeded to widen at your request. his reaction to being adamantly confused was contorted in the features of his face like he had been peering over the defense against the dark arts section on an O.W.L.S exam after not studying for a week.

“i could never just ignore you. i care about what you think, m’love.” he dragged the pad of his thumb against the dermis of your cheek, feeling the broad flush of your skin begin to warm the velvet palms of hands. “i just— i can't explain it.”

there was a detrimental feeling pooling in your mind at the feeling of embarrassment beginning to tinge your cheeks. you felt as if you were in the middle of a school audition and suddenly forgot all of your lines, the insistent feeling of unworthiness popping up in your mind every couple of minutes like a menace throughout your life.

“c’mon, darling,” he whispered whilst beckoning you, removing his hands that were clutched onto the apple of your cheeks now sliding his digits through your own. the balmy feeling of his palm radiating into yours was the only steady grasp you had while he had led you into his empty dormitory.

his emotions continued to display as unknown whilst he sat upon the vermillion knit comforter that laid quite messily upon his bed. his legs began to open whilst he brought your body between them. his palms making a heavy grip upon the curvature of your waist, and his thumb now stroking the cotton material that adorned your figure. his thumb gliding down to the hem, suddenly feeling the warm flush of your skin melding into his own.

“let me make you feel good.” james began to plead, his face quirking into a mild pout. your mind reflecting on your insecurities for a moment, the ripples in your skin, the vergetures tissue that was rooted upon your flesh, but as of right now that was now to be the least of your concerns that ventured in your mind.

the pads of his calloused palm lingered to the planes of your lower back to the swell of your bottom, his hands palming at the denim material while he awaited your answer; you merely nodded your head, his grin increasingly growing whilst his grip managed to maneuver you hurriedly onto the middle of his bed. your legs slightly fumbling before your spine was adjacent to his mattress.

his lip was now faintly tucked under the cushion of his lip while his athletic form began to hover over your body. the ivory white top you were dressed in was now being pulled down to the point of the exposure of your brassiere, and the dewy kisses emitting from his lips were now faintly pressed against the mantle of your skin.

his fingers feebly started to grasp at the flimsy material of your top before raising it over the undulating form of your body, his hand flinging the pallid fabric onto the mahogany wood of his dormitory. james had now buried his head between your supple mounds that laid gracefully on your chest, his swirling tendrils of brunet tickled at the planes of your jugular.

he felt the slight respire hitching in your chest while lips suckled at the skin that guarded your sternum, the slight blossoming hue rested in the juncture of your chest whilst his lips proceeded to move around your midriff.

the silk tresses of his brunet tuffs faintly titillated at your abdomen as the sponges of his kisses landed directly on the lower regions of your abdomen. his lips continuing to suction recurrent markings till the fluorescent blooms of umber and vermillion spilled delicately onto the searing flesh of your midriff.

his cerulean eyes peeled off of the buckle from your jeans, his eyes now sauntering out your face, and your arms now balancing yourself so you can gape into his eyes. he tilted his head in question, emitting a second nod of confirmation from you. taking it upon himself to rid of your clothing from your legs, leaving his hand traveling into the flimsy sheet of scarlet lace you had been clad in.

his finger swirled upon the swollen button once, releasing an enclosed gasp from your lungs that had been held in your trachea. his hands grasping upon the tight material and removing it from your body before looking at the sopping folds of your cunt.

once, twice, three times, he glided his fingers through your arousal effortlessly before attaching his lips to the swelled nub, proceeding to suckle like a babe. his tongue exploring your cunt whilst your wavering moans were transferring through the air. he began to maneuver your legs to balance on the bend of his shoulders whilst your pending moans lay enticingly in the air; your feeble digits feeling the strain of his tuffs in the clutch of your fingers at his arousing stimulation.

his ring and middle finger began to prod at your entrance before sliding into the depths of your aching cunt nimbly. his tongue stretched upon the crevices of your cunt while it collected your sickly nectar on the tip of his tongue, his face now buried in your cunt.

the unyielding quiver in your legs around his head was only steely increasing as he etched you closer and closer upon release. the bubbling moans exuding from your throat only increasing his current pride at your pleasureful noises making him grin into your cunt until you were pleading out to him, rather desperately.

“daddy, please. can i cum?”

“since you asked so nicely.” he retorted to your question enticingly. removing his mouth as his fingers recurrently impelled in the silken encasement of your cunt until your legs were trembling over his shoulders, and your mind had finally bleared out from the explosive butterflies that now lingered in your belly.

he caught sight of a few unwavering mauve lines that retracted in the inside flesh of your thighs, pressing a few absentminded kisses to them before his body began to hover over your own.

the bespectacled boy had now removed the indigo shirt from his body, his abdomen and rippling muscles were now in desolate from your slightly fatigued eyes. his body now recurrently hovering over your heaving one. his thumb swiped against your cheek once before his eyes came in the direct view of your churning abdomen.

he lowered his face till his nose was slightly smeared against your rib cage and his lips came in direct contact with the mauve and pallid lines you had been so doggedly insecure about.

his hands now placed on the curvature of your waist, admiring the stripes that now defined your midsection. tracing the small lines on the left, on the right, then craning his neck under your thighs so he could press a few absentminded kisses to the swell of your bum.

when he had returned from your underside, now catching your lips in a kiss. the hues of orange and red now bleeding into the atmosphere of the room, the sun slowly setting in the underworld amongst the other planets whilst he removed the remaining articles of clothing that had lingered on your figures.

“you’re so beautiful,” he murmured, pressing a kiss into the junction of your neck, landing directly on your pulse point that had been unwaveringly erratic. “astonishingly beautiful, my angel.” he crooned into the curvature of your neck whilst his lips moved to the crease of your jaw.

his hands delicately were fixed on the apex of your thighs, the limbs hanging closely on the burly muscles of his waist. “please, daddy. need you so bad.” you began to mewl while his cock had nudged faintly at your thigh.

at your words, james leisurely filled you to the brim with his cock until the happy trail sprouted ascent his lower abdomen was now pressed against your hips in a minuscule grinding-like motion.

his forearms now embedding into the mattress beside your hair that was cascading around your face similar to a halo that an angel wore proudly, his hips continuously grinding against your hips whilst your ankles were brought into a tight lock on the lower curvature of his spine.

“my pretty girl.”

the motions of his thrusts were steady and protracted. the movements drawing out your orgasms substantially, rather than the feeling of intense euphoric elation, it’s rather prolonged and comforting in the small snap of a coil that trembled in your belly.

the searing flush of your skin colliding with one another whilst his mouth had now been placed upon your own once more. your arms now resting on the nape of his neck, the minuscule scratch, and tug of your fingers bringing him to center of the actions he was trying to exhibit towards you.

his love, his adoration, his appreciation.

the small kisses he left on your hairline whilst he was etched closer, and closer upon his release until the splintering clench in his belly had profusely slackened . “you’re so captivating.” he crooned amid your kiss after separating his lips from yours for a moment.

the meld of his skin against your own was enticing and inviting. his tongue swept into your mouth to envelop the feeling of you just a little more before the ropes of his release had seeped into the depths of your cunt; only deepening the liplock whilst his prick had remained inside of you.

it wasn't a long duration of time before james quickly scrambled away to dress you in his freshly cleaned vermillion and umber quidditch jumper and a pair of his boxer shorts, quickly cuddling close to your side whilst placing a few last kisses to your forehead before he had changed into a pair of sweatpants himself and beckoned you to lay on his chest.

“you m’dear, are, completely, and irrevocably bewitching. my pretty witch.”

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[maraudersandlily20]

This prompt is oddly specific and also not, but it's a brain-worm I haven't been able to get rid of--Tonks giving Harry a tattoo.

Teddy really liked playing airplanes. When Harry was over, it was all Teddy would talk about. He watched tv shows, he read muggle books, and he colored pictures that his grandmother had printed out. Harry would watch him in the yard, pretending to be different airplanes for hours. He knew the names, their speed abilities, and even their recognizable emblems. It was rather endearing.

On a hot summers day, while Teddy imitated airplane noises, Harry was sitting against a tree, his eyes partly closed. It was a lovely day and Andy had been desperate for Teddy to get his wiggles out, as she called them. So, Draco and Andy stayed and made dinner and Harry was left with the young one. 

He was six now, growing taller by the day. Harry would always tell him that he wasn’t allowed to grow anymore, which made Teddy squeal with laughter. He looked a lot like Remus when he smiled. It made Harry nostalgic.

Teddy would ask about his parents on occasion. He didn’t have any memory of them, other than feelings. So, when he got curious, he asked. They were always silly, ridiculous things, like what did Remus eat on his sandwich or did Tonks know how to whistle. But Harry tried to answer seriously for every question. He remembered how he had been so curious about his parents and their lives but hadn’t been given access to that until he was much older. 

However, in an odd way, Teddy didn’t really consider Remus and Tonks his parents. He didn’t call them mum or dad, and no one else spoke of them with those titles. He had grandma Andy, uncle Harry and uncle Draco, and a plethora of other adults who acted as makeshift guardians. He knew that his parents were his parents, but naming them by their titles of parenting never seemed to stick to Teddy. So, he called them Remus and Tonks, like everyone else. 

Teddy raced over to Harry and collapsed onto his lap, laughing. Harry gathered him into his arms and covered his face with kisses, proclaiming that he had finally shot down the mighty plane in the sky. They settled quietly, Teddy playing gently with Harry’s fingers, flicking them up and down.

“Harry?” He said, his voice bright.

“Yes love?”

“Did Remus like airplanes?’

Harry thought for a moment. “You know, I’m sure he did. He never got to ride in one though.”

“Did Tonks?”

“Maybe, you’ll have to ask grandma Andy.”

Teddy hummed in acknowledgement before starting anew with questions. “Did Remus like painting? Because I like painting a lot.”

“No, he wasn’t very good at art. But he was good at reading. He read almost every book you could ever think of! He was very smart. Your uncle Sirius was good at painting. He liked painting a lot.”

Teddy knew about Sirius, a bit, but his experience with the older Black man was limited. He knew he was Remus’ special friend, but that he had died before Teddy was born. Teddy liked looking at pictures of him, saying he thought he looked nice. 

“Maybe uncle Sirius gave me the ability to paint,” Teddy said, as if coming to a solid conclusion.

Harry laughed. “Yeah, maybe. What else do you want to know? About Remus and Tonks?”

“Did Tonks like soda?”

“They did. They loved sweets of all kinds. Sometimes, grandma Andy would get so mad at them because of all the sweets they hid under their bed.”

Teddy squealed. “I do that!”

“You do?” Harry exclaimed. “Well, then you must be punished.” His tickled his godson, laughing as Teddy tried to squirm away from him. He finally broke free, but he was smiling widely. 

Teddy stood before him, moving between his legs and squishing Harry’s cheeks between his chubby little hands. “Did Tonks like being able to change into a boy?”

It was a question that Harry always approached with caution. He knew that Tonks’ preference on gender was fluid at times, liking to change pronouns on occasion. Teddy had been understanding of the whole thing, but Harry never wanted to say anything wrong.

“I think they did. Tonks sometimes felt like their body didn’t fit them right. And when that happened, they presented as a boy, like you.” He poked Teddy’s stomach. “But sometimes, they liked looking like a girl. Or, on occasion, they didn’t like being either. They were lucky to get to choose, huh?”

Teddy patted Harry’s cheeks, eyes squinted in concentration. “Do you think Tonks would be mad at me because I only like being a boy?”

Harry felt the surprise on his face. “Uh... Well, no. You know, Tonks never really got mad at anyone, except for Remus. Tonks always said that everyone should feel free to be who they are, whatever they are. So, I don’t think Tonks would be mad that you only liked being a boy. If being a boy makes you happy, then that’s all they would want.”

The little boy nodded, as if the question had been worrying him for some time. “That’s good. I want Tonks to like me.”

“Tonks loved you a lot, little man. No matter what you looked like, they loved you. Okay?”

Teddy nodded. 

“Did Remus give good hugs, like you and uncle Draco?”

Harry smiled at the sudden turn. “He did. He gave big bear hugs, and sometimes he would squeeze so hard that if felt like you couldn’t breathe.”

“Did he give good presents? Grandma Andy said that Tonks was always really happy with the presents he gave them.”

Harry laughed. The questions that children came up with always surprised him. “He did. He and uncle Sirius gave me some of my favorite books that I own. He liked giving people chocolate, just like Grandma Andy did. And he often gave Tonks flowers or sweaters. Tonks loved it. So yeah, he did give good presents.”

“Did Tonks ever give you presents?” Teddy pressed, squishing Harry’s cheeks hard together.

“They did. Do you want to see?”

The boy nodded emphatically as Harry gently pushed him back. With swift fingers, he pulled his shirt from where it was tucked to reveal a small tattoo. It was a picture of a Willow Tree and it waved back and forth on his skin, as if moved by some breeze. There were moments when little birds would fly about the branches before settling. It was beautiful.

He remembered Tonk’s laughter as they pressed the needle against his skin. “You know, when I gave Remus his tattoo, he cried like a baby.” Harry snorted. 

“In my defense,” Remus piped up from the corner where he sat reading a massive novel. “it wasn’t my idea to get the tattoo. I never understand muggles’ incessant need to inflict pain upon themselves. 

“You have a tattoo?” Harry asked. 

“A moon,” Tonks chirped.

“Tonks thinks they’re very funny. It moves through the entire lunar cycle, and is in fact beautiful. It’s on my right shoulder, and it hurt almost as bad as shifting.”

“Come now, ripping your body apart must hurt worse,” Tonks countered, to which Remus just raised his eyebrow. 

“Why tattoos?” Harry asked them, drawing their attention back.

Tonks shrugged. “I’m not sure. I think I like the idea of adding something permanent to yourself. I was able to shift and contort my features however I wanted. But tattoos are something that you can’t shift away. They stay no matter what I look like. To have that feeling of permanence on my skin makes me feel a little more connected to myself.”

Harry understood that. It was partly why he had decided to get a tattoo in the first place. He wanted a reminded to himself that he was alive. He would spend countless hours trapped in his own head, but if he had something on his skin, something to look at and rely on that wouldn’t ever change, maybe he’d feel a little bit less lost.

“Why a willow tree?” The question came from Remus, but he was still looking down at his book. 

Harry shrugged, drumming his fingers against his bare chest. “I feel like the whomping willow at Hogwarts has seen, first hand, much of my growing up experiences. I figured it was a good homage to everything I’ve learned.”

Tonk smiled, wiping some of the excess ink away. “And, anyway, I didn’t tat the actual willow on you. I tweaked it a bit, made it more... whimsical. You don’t need the spikiness of the willow.”

“I don’t mind,” Harry said. “I like the feeling of permanence, especially something like a tree. It’ll refuse to die until it’s forced. Like me.” They laughed and Harry couldn’t help the light feeling that spread over his chest. “Besides, next time I’ll probably get something cheesy, like a snitch or a lighting bolt.”

“Or a dragon,” Tonks offered.

“Or a pair of antlers?”

They spent the remainder of time imagining new tattoos and where they would go. They laughed until their stomachs hurt and the willow tree was finished. Harry felt it was a symbol of peace and promise. He loved it.

Teddy’s fingers traced the branches of the tree, eyes wide in mesmerization. “Tonks gave you this?” he asked, his voice soft.

“They did.”

“They were good at drawing. But on skin.” Harry nodded as Teddy looked up for confirmation. “I want to be good at drawing like that.”

“If you practice, maybe you can.”

“Grandma Andy would let me?”

This made Harry pause. “Uh, I don’t know. Maybe. If you really wanted to. Grandma Andy wants you to be happy.”

Teddy returned to his seat on Harry’s lap, pulling his godfathers arms around him. “I can’t wait to get pictures on my skin,” he stated, sighing in contentment at the idea.

“Oh yeah?” said Harry with a laugh. “What picture on your skin would you get first?”

The little boy grinned up at Harry, looking so much like his father that it almost hurt, and said proudly, “An airplane!” A bark of laughter left Harry’s mouth at the answer and he held the little boy even closer. 

[max-neverland]

Harry Potter: Flight Over Bristol

Dawn was touching the horizon as the little village of Godric’s Hollow lay in slumber. The street lamps glowed softly in the gloom, casting thin shadows over the quaint buildings. Faux spider webs clung to the cottage faces and large carved pumpkins rested in the gardens. Autumn leaves littered the streets, crunching under the massive feet of the lone figure hurrying through the square.

He was a giant of a man. He filled the whole breadth of the sidewalk and was forced to stoop under every shop sign. His black hair was a wild mane and his untamed beard spilled over his chest. He wore an old brown coat that brushed his knees and the toes of his leather boots were heavily scuffed. Poking out of the folds of his coat was a bright pink umbrella.

Rubeus Hagrid reached the house before the muggles awoke. It was identical to every other cottage in the town but for the gaping hole in the side of the second story. A chill ran over Hagrid’s bones and he shook himself; there was no time to dwell on what he was seeing. He blinked back the tears that pricked at his eyes and stepped over the little gate with one smooth stride. A cobbled path ran up the garden, lined by tended flower beds; a toy broomstick had been crashed into the middle of them. The front door was ajar.

He found James first. The young man was sprawled on his back in the living room, glasses askew, hazel eyes wide and unseeing. A howl tore from Hagrid’s throat, rough with pain and thick with grief. He fell to his knees beside the body and pulled James’ head into his lap. He gave himself one minute; just one minute to gently close James’ eyes, rearrange his glasses, and place a wet, whiskery kiss on his brow, and then Hagrid was up and climbing the stairs.

The destruction began at the top of the stairs. Mounds of debris and chunks of splintered wood littered the carpet, and the roof was on the verge of caving in. The walls around the nursery were in crumbling ruins at the end of the hall. Hagrid stepped over the remains of a door that had been blasted off its hinges and something snapped beneath his heel; looking down, he saw the splinters of a large wooden snitch painted in glittering gold that had once been mounted to the nursery door.

He found Lily next. She lay face down on the nursery floor, her dark red hair a fiery halo around her. Her arm was caught in the cot bars and a fresh sob shook Hagrid as he saw that a baby boy was sitting up in the cot with one chubby fist wrapped around his mother’s cold finger. The child’s face was stained with tears, and snot was smeared on the front of his pyjamas, but his big green eyes were clear now as he gazed up solemnly at Hagrid. Under a tuft of black hair, bright against his pale brow, was a fresh cut in the shape of a lightning bolt.

“Yer okay, Harry,” said Hagrid kindly, picking his way through the wreckage to reach the cot. “Yeh’ll be alright. I’ve got yeh.”

He took Lily from her son and quickly but gently tended to her as he had James, speaking to Harry all the while. His voice, although naturally rough, was filled with warmth, and when he laid Lily back down and reached into the cot, Harry fearlessly stretched out his arms towards him. Hagrid wrapped him snuggly in a warm blanket.

“Time ter go, Harry.”

With the little boy tucked safely in his massive hand, Hagrid hurried from the cottage. The village was beginning to wake and they passed a newspaper boy on his bicycle as they headed for the outskirts of town. Harry gazed up and gurgled happily when the sound of an aeroplane rumbled overhead. Hagrid, focused on his task, paid it no heed until he suddenly realized that the sound was drawing alarmingly close. He peered up and with a start saw that the dark shape rattling down towards the edge of town – right where they were heading – was in fact a huge flying motorcycle. Hagrid’s free hand snapped to his pink umbrella, ready to spring into action, before he recognized the young man sitting astride it.

Sirius Black landed as they passed the very last cottage. His motorcycle all but crashed to the ground and he threw himself from it before the engine had even settled. His dark hair was wind swept and his grey eyes were wild; there was no trace of his usual casual elegance as he stumbled towards them.

“Hagrid, what happened?” he cried. “Why do you have Harry? Where are Lily and James?”

“I’m sorry, Sirius,” replied Hagrid sombrely, fresh tears forming in his eyes. “You-know-who found ‘em. They’re gone.”

Sirius fell to his knees with an anguished cry, his handsome face distorted with grief. He punched the ground three times in quick succession, leaving his knuckles torn and bloodied. Harry began to wail and Sirius immediately sprung to his feet, reaching for his godson.

“It’s okay, Harry. Hagrid, give him to me – “

“No,” said Hagrid abruptly, stepping back and pulling Harry to his chest protectively. “I can’t.”

“What are you talking about? I’m his godfather!”

“Dumbledore’s orders – “

“Dumbledore’s orders,” scoffed Sirius. “I don’t care what the old man says. Harry should be with me! I’m the only family he’s got left!”

“Dumbledore said he has ter go ter Lily’s sister,” argued Hagrid. “She’s his blood aunt.”

“Lily’s sister? You mean Petunia?” said Sirius incredulously. “That muggle woman hated Lily, hated everything about our world. Harry can’t be raised among people like that! He needs to be with his own kind. He needs to be with me.”

“I know yeh care for him bu’ I can’t do that,” persisted Hagrid. “I have ter take him ter Dumbledore. Yeh can take it up with him. I’m sorry.”

Sirius was visibly crushed. Longing filled his face as he gazed at Harry, who was half-hidden in Hagrid’s beard and sucking loudly on his thumb for comfort.

“I’ll say goodbye, then,” he said at last.

The giant nodded and Sirius approached them. Hagrid carefully placed Harry in the young man’s arms. The child beamed brightly and grabbed playfully at Sirius’ face, love for his godfather shining in his eyes. A quiet tear slipped down Sirius’ stubbled cheek but he quickly brushed it aside and ruffled the baby’s hair.

“I’ll sort this mess out. Don’t let the muggles get you down, kid,” he told him, and then spoke to Hagrid as he handed the child over with obvious reluctance. “I’m going to see Lily and James and then there’s something I have to do. I won’t need my bike so why don’t you take it?”

“I won’t say no ter that,” replied Hagrid, admiring the motorcycle. “I’ll drop it off once Harry’s settled.”

“Sounds good.”

Sirius cast Harry one last look, nodded to Hagrid, and then set off at a sprint into the village. Harry began to fuss as his godfather left, so Hagrid quickly mounted the huge motorcycle and started the engine; it was just big enough to accommodate for his giant size. He balanced Harry on his knee and delved into his deep coat pockets with his free hand; after a minute of hunting, he pulled out a large handknitted scarf and a pair of goggles. He set the goggles over his own face and fashioned the scarf into a sling beneath his coat which he then secured Harry in, placing him deep inside so that the thick wool covered his ears.

The motorcycle took to the skies as a shrill siren erupted from Godric’s Hollow; the muggles had awoken and discovered the Potters. Hagrid steered the motorcycle into the shadows of the clouds so that the muggles on the ground would pass them off as being a large bird or a distant plane. Snug in his sling under the coat, the baby popped his thumb in his mouth and tangled his other hand comfortingly in Hagrid’s beard.

Harry fell asleep as they were flying over Bristol.