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Let it never be said that James didn’t love his family.
Of course he loved his darling Lily, the woman with hair as fiery and red as her temper, who always looked beautiful, even when she cried, even when she fought, and especially when she laughed. James couldn’t have been luckier.
And he adored Harry. Lily had once said that he was practically a copy of James, with messy black hair and bronze skin and even his horrible eyesight. James definitely thought he acted more like Lily, though, even at barely two years old — humble and kind, and entirely fed up with his father’s antics. Once, he had drawn what he had claimed to be their family; James, he babbled, was the brown blob with a black one right on top. James had treated the picture like it was a work of art, and he swore that Harry had rolled his eyes at him, exactly how Lily did. While Harry mirrored James in looks, he mirrored Lily in personality, at least for now.
It should never be said that James didn’t love his family, but there was one tiny, teensy detail.
The eyes.
James had probably been in love with Lily’s eyes ever since they met. They weren’t just green, they were green. Greener than fresh grass in the spring, greener than the trees they climbed as kids, even greener than the Killing Curse. He could spend hours getting lost in them.
It was one of the only things that Lily had passed on to Harry. When he first opened his eyes after he was born, James burst into tears for the third time that day. It felt like a dream — his two favorite people in the world, sharing something so beautiful — it had overwhelmed him. He was definitely the luckiest man on earth.
At least, he had thought.
He wasn’t even sure how Harry had accomplished it. Both he and Lily were still in bed, so nobody could have taken Harry out of his crib. He would’ve known if Sirius or Remus had stopped by.
All he knew was that he had awoken due to the discomforting feeling that someone was staring at him. He had, as anyone would, assumed that it was Lily. He didn’t know that she liked to watch him sleep, but it made his heart fill with love for her. He opened his eyes, ready to turn to her and smile, maybe share a kiss —
“Holy shit!”
Harry was staring, unblinking, into James’ eyes. By some miracle, James had managed not to fall off the bed and harm Harry, but he felt as if his heart would give out from the stress.
And Harry, the adorable demon, laughed. He laughed as if he knew exactly what he was doing.
“Harry!” He exclaimed, clutching his heart. “What —“ he couldn’t even finished his sentence, he was so shocked.
“James?” Lily asked groggily, sitting up. It turned out she had been filly asleep after all, and not lovingly looking at him as he had thought. Her brow furrowed as she spotted Harry, now looking like the pinnacle of innocence. “What’s Harry doing here? Did you take him out of his crib?”
“No!” James said. “I woke up to the feeling of someone staring at me, and he —“ he pointed at Harry, “was staring into my soul with those creepy green eyes of his! In near-darkness! I could’ve had a heart attack!”
By the end of his rant, Lily was laughing so hard she cried. “We have the same eyes, remember? Do you find mine creepy?”
“Of course not,” James assured her, “you didn’t appear out of nowhere to stare me down in the dark. Harry, on the other hand…” his poked his son in the ribs, and he giggled.
Lily sat up properly and took Harry into her arms, cradling him as he talked nonsensically about “Dada scared”.
“It’s ‘Dada is scared’, sweetie,” she said, rocking him in her embrace. “We need to learn proper English if you’re going to go to Hogwarts, don’t we?”
“Yeah!” Harry screamed. “Hog’arts!”
“It’s fitting, isn’t it?” Lily asked, smiling at Harry although it was clear she was talking to James, who had watch the scene between his wife and child with happiness. “That Harry would perform his first act of accidental magic by scaring you senseless.”
“He’s practically a Marauder already, pranking me like that,” he said fondly. “Maybe he’s more like me than we thought.”
“Oh, I always knew he would be somewhat like you,” Lily said. “How else would he be so proficient on that broomstick Sirius got him for his first birthday?”
“It’s practically in his blood,” James announced proudly, making Harry giggle once more. “He’ll be a Chaser in no time.”
“You never know, James,” Lily said. “He might play a different position, you know.”
He knew that for sure, and not just for Quidditch. Harry could become anyone. He could become a carbon copy of James, cocky and confident, or he could be like Lily, hot-headed and responsible. He might be the epitome of a brave and noble Gryffindor or the textbook example of a cunning, ambitious Slytherin. He could share James’ passion for Quidditch or Lily’s love of books.
Harry could grow to be anybody, and James would love him no matter who he became, creepy green eyes and all.
“Yeah,” he whispered, his smile growing as Harry’s did. “I know.”