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James fiddles with his cufflinks, onyx stones glimmering in the light of his bedroom. His red robes swish around his body, stiff enough that they won't rip or catch, but also loose enough that he could engage in battle should need be.
Which… he really did hope he didn't have to.
"Da!"
Harry's excited screech had him relaxing and smiling instinctively, kneeling down to catch his toddling baby. Harry fell into his arms around with a happy babbling of almost words.
He smiles, revealing his 3 grown teeth. James kisses his chubby, round cheek and pats down his soft hair. "Hello my love," he says happily. "You've gone and dirtied yourself up again. I can never keep you clean for long, can I?"
Harry shakes his head with a loud, screech of "No!" and James laughs. He lets his magic brush over his son, cleaning his robes that are a miniature version of James' robes with a different fabric due to the fact that a 10 month old baby will never be in a battle.
Bright green-gold eyes look up at him and James soothes himself with the knowledge that these negotiations will solidify the treaty between wizards and werewolves. He'd prefer to not have to use his son, but his son is the whole reason he's doing this. He'd happily throw his life away into battle if he could but he has his son to live for.
Remus Greyback, formerly Lupin, is the High–Heir to the Greyback Packs. Greyback who is also the High Alpha of all the packs in the UK.
Which makes this meeting imperative.
Harry pats his cheek with a force that would've hurt had James not been entirely used to his baby's rough playing and, really, a baby slapping his cheek doesn't hurt. "Hopefully your Papa will love you," he mumbles to himself.
"Papa, Papa, Papa!" Harry repeats, giggling to himself.
James nods with a sigh. "Yup. Papa."
Remus would hopefully accept Harry as his son. Even if he was, technically, illegitimate. James hadn't known he was sleeping with Greyback's Heir when he'd slept with the bloke (smoking hot bloke in red robes and turning James' blood from liquid to rubies it felt like) from the bar, but James couldn't find it within himself to regret any of it.
Harry is his son, his pride and joy, and his baby.
The only drawback are all the problems Harry gets because of his other father. His son, born of a wizard and a werewolf, and he is, by all means, a werewolf. A born one at least, which functions more as a natural animagus than anything, but he still has the traits of it.
James can only wing so much of it before he gets another surprise like when Harry wanted rare meat for breakfast rather than mashed apples.
It comes up on the blood tests from St. Mungos, which he's had to threaten them into silence to make sure they didn't say anything. If it got onto his son's public record, he'd have to endure much hate despite the relationships with creatures getting better. Werewolves still had one of the worst reputations and nothing could be fixed easily.
So for his son's safety, James made sure that nobody knew. It is what is needed, until he could trust that his son wouldn't be attacked, as a babe, on the streets of Diagon, for simply being something he had no control over being.
Lily enters the room, dressed in a practical dress that looks a bit more like battle robes than like a dress. James raises a brow at her and she shrugs, smiling when Harry screeches, almost body flopping out of James' arms.
She picks him up with a whirl, giggling as he laughs in joy. James flicks his wand to capture the moment; he's got 2 albums filled with just Harry's pictures but he wants to capture all of the moments that Harry is happy. He wants to be able to look at all of his baby's moments and every moment is precious—every moment he can capture, no matter how inferior the pictures are to his memory—and he wants it all to be committed down.
"Are you ready?" Lily asks, perching Harry on her hip. He toys with her red hair with a look of fascination on his face and James takes yet another picture.
James tucks his wand away and nods. "Yes," he says, trying to convince himself more than anyone. "I'm ready."
Lily passes Harry to him as they walk out of the room and James holds his son close to his chest. He grabs Harry's go bag from the hook outside of the door and shrugs it over his shoulder.
Marlene, Sirius, and Dumbledore are waiting for them in the living room when they enter. Harry babbles happily at seeing all the people and everybody smiles at him, shaking his hand in a faux-seriousness in Dumbledore's case, and then Marlene holds out the portkey.
It takes only 3 seconds and then they're off, flashing through a tight tube of colors and then popping out. James winces when Harry spits up on his robes, only to begin crying out loudly a moment later.
He banishes the spit up and rocks Harry, murmuring all the lullabies he knows, and he takes no embarrassment in soothing his baby in the entrance of the Council Hall. Harry slowly calms to just hiccups and fat tears rolling down his face, and James doesn't stop until Harry buries his face into his chest, clutching the edge of his robes tightly within his pudgy fist.
He turns back to the group, still rocking and soothing Harry, and Lily strokes his hair for a moment.
There is the sound of a throat clearing.
They turn to see a group of 5 werewolves, all muscular and dressed in fine robes. James recognizes Remus immediately, curling sandy blond hair that spills over his face, the green-gold eyes that Harry took on, and the jagged scars on his face that James hadn't been able to resist. He's wearing the same red robes that he wore when they'd met.
James doesn't know if that's on purpose or not (most likely not) but they still make him look absolutely mouth-watering.
His nostrils flare and his eyes flash amber for just a moment. Then Greyback places a heavy hand on his Heir's shoulder. His eyes are fixed on James, and then he nods.
"Let us negotiate the treaty," he says in a deep, rumbling voice. "And then we will be speaking with you after, Lord Potter."