Survivors - 1

"Sweet Merlin," James said, whistling through his teeth when he caught sight of Harry.

Harry felt his knees give out, and he sank to the couch with Dumbledore's gentle assistance.

"What is it, James?" Lily asked, peering over his shoulder. She swayed when she saw Harry, and James grabbed her to steady her.

"Harry, is that you?" James croaked.

"My baby," Lily said, slapping a hand over her mouth.

Harry stared, wide-eyed, at both his parents and Professor Dumbledore, uncertain what he should do. He felt frozen in place, unable to make either his mind or his body work properly.

Lily broke his trance. She rushed toward him, flung her arms around him, and hugged him fiercely, sobbing into his chest. Harry gaped at Professor Dumbledore, who only smiled benignly.

Harry had never done well with crying girls, and this was somehow much worse. This was his mother! His head knew that, but sitting there with this young, attractive woman, barely older that himself, crying all over him was disconcerting.

One thing he was definitely aware of – she hugged even tighter than Mrs. Weasley.

He raised panicked eyes to his father, who gently came toward them and pulled Lily back.

"Come on, Lily. Let him breathe. You're embarrassing the poor bloke," he said, grinning. His hazel eyes sparkled as they raked over his son, and he stood in front of Harry, grinning widely.

"I am not embarrassing him," Lily said, indignantly slapping James on the arm.

"Oh, you so are," Sirius said, grinning. "Our Harry here embarrasses quite easily, actually. I used to like to make sport of him and see how red he would turn."

Harry scowled at Sirius, who only laughed harder. Lily reached out and gently brushed the hair back from Harry's scar. He let her stare at it for a moment before shifting uncomfortably.

"I've enjoyed watching you play Quidditch," James said brightly. They all appeared to be searching for the right thing to say. As far as Harry was concerned, Quidditch always worked, and he instantly warmed to James.

"Yeah? I've played since my first year," he said.

"I know! I was so proud when that happened, wasn't I, Lily? When you were born, I bought you this little toddler starter broom. Your mother was furious and insisted that I couldn't put you on it for at least five years, but I knew you'd be a natural," James said, beaming.

Lily shook her head, but she kept smiling as she reached out to straighten the sleeve on Harry's shirt, and brush the hair from his collar.

"I had plans to build our own pitch in the woods behind the house at Godric's Hollow. Did you notice it? There was plenty of room for a secluded clearing, and I thought it would be great to play with the smell of the ocean on the breeze," James said, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Oh! I did see the wood there. That would have been a great place for a pitch," Harry replied, happily contemplating the idea of a pitch at his own home. He could have had friends over for pick-up matches during the summer.

The Quidditch talk continued for some time while Lily kept reaching out to stroke Harry's hair. Although disconcerted at first, Harry eventually relaxed and stopped flinching at her touch. She was very much like Mrs. Weasley in that way.

"You never could have built that pitch," Sirius said, snorting while shaking his head. "The Ministry denied that request because you were foolish enough to give them your lighting specifications."