Harry found that he loved hanging out with his mother. Some would say he was a mama's boy, and he'd probably be the first to agree with that statement, but he enjoyed her company. It startled him to think that she was related to Petunia Dursley, Mrs. Cold herself. The only emotion his aunt had ever shown him in the 15 years he'd lived with them was contempt or loathing. To have a parent figure actually show something like concern, or like enjoyment was a big step forward.
Harry knew that he should have told his parents, his mother especially about his shadow abilities. But that lingering thought of him being rejected kept him from telling them. He had rationalized it by coming to the conclusion that there was simply no way he could go to his parents and say, Hi, I don't want to alarm you but I'm a lot more powerful than anyone else in this world, including Neville Longbottom who survived a killing curse. You know why, because I did the same. Oh, and I'm a Shadow Mage to boot. So what's for dinner?
Not only would they not believe him, but would consider him a braggart which was something he never aspired to be even in his own dimension, Snape's accusations notwithstanding. Harry knew he'd have to tell his family of his abilities sooner than later, but became selfish in his desire to have a family. If they were going to ostracize him once they found out who he actually was, then he wanted to get as many good family memories to take with him. They may not want him once they find out about his past, but he wanted them - even if it was only in memories.
So Harry decided he would tell them about his abilities when the time was right. In the meantime, he'd begin a program of slowly expanding on his abilities. He'd already started that by voraciously reading every book he could get. No one saw him with the same book in his hands two days in a row. Some of the books he'd read during the past month had been refreshers and he'd breezed through them, remembering their content from years past. Others had been refreshingly new. Such as the history books that he'd never read during any of his years at Hogwarts. After all, a boy's got to sleep during one of his classes doesn't he? Of course, he probably shouldn't have slept through all of Binn's classes, but still…
Project "Coming into My Powers Slowly" (as Harry dubbed it) also served to allow him to watch for Death Eater activity while avoiding Voldemort's attention. Let him concentrate on Neville Longbottom instead of Harry Potter. The less people that knew about his abilities the better. Like Moody said: 'Constant Vigilance.' When people found out how powerful he was, it would turn ugly soon enough.
The day promised to be hot, and Harry was glad they'd started out early as the Alley was sure to get crowded later on with more school kids and regular shoppers. He had a lot of fun with his mother. They went clothes shopping for robes, and not just for Harry. His mother tried on a few and modeled them, asking his opinion if he liked what she had on. "Mum, you look beautiful in anything you wear," Harry said. She rewarded him with a kiss on the cheek and a hug for that.
Hours later, loaded down with clothes, books, potion supplies, and everything else this author is too lazy to write down (besides, lists are boring), Harry and his mother stopped for some pre-lunch ice cream while doing some people watching. Halfway through eating his Rocky Road, Harry saw someone he recognized.
He saw Neville Longbottom walking with his parents who both looked young and healthy. Not permanently zoned out and emaciated.
"Mum, isn't that the Longbottoms?" Harry said, pointing to the advancing family.
Lily pulled the spoon of Spumoni away from her mouth and looked towards the family that was nearly on them. Scowling, she replied, "Yes, that's them." Alice walked up to them as Frank and Neville looked at a window display a few meters distant.
"Lily, what a surprise to see you here," Alice said neutrally. "I take it this is your son, Herman?"
"It's Harry," Lily replied coldly.
"Hmmm, yes, sorry for the confusion but James so rarely talks about his son that no one at the office knew if he was magical… or a squib. You can understand my surprise at seeing him here carrying Hogwarts supplies."
Harry stayed quiet to see how his mother wanted to play this out. But he wasn't going to stay quiet long.
"My son is going to be a fine wizard. Strong and powerful even. He's already started his coursework. I take it Neville is going to browbeat someone else into doing his for him as he's too lazy to do anything else?" Lily smirked.
Alice frowned. "Neville is a powerful pure blood wizard and needs to concentrate on other subjects than just what is on the Hogwarts curriculum. He'll be an asset to the Auror corps in due time."
"And what time would that be in - 50 or 60 years?" Lily bit back.
Alice's eyes narrowed but before saying anything else, Neville and Frank walked up.
"Mother, I'd like some ice cream. Two scoops of the Longbottom brand, please. Ah, Mrs. Potter, nice to meet you. My father was just telling me you were speaking with my mother. And you must be Horace, right?"
"It's Harry," Harry replied dryly.
"You sure? You look like a Horace to me. I think I had a horse once named Horace. That's what reminded me of you."
Harry looked on at the veiled insult. "Well, at least you didn't compare me to a donkey, so I guess I should be grateful, Mr. Longbottom."
"Did I say you reminded me of my horse? I mean my mule," Neville hastily amended.
"Oooooohhh, so close to the insult. You've got to learn not to backtrack. It lacks conviction. You should really think them out a little beforehand so you don't sound like a loser when you copy what someone just said. Like me. Mum, you want to go? I think the air is becoming a little… tainted here."
"Of course, dear. Alice, you're welcome to the table," Lily said, leaving the dishes and used napkins behind.
"You can't say that to me. Do you have any idea who I am?!" Neville practically shouted. Eyes from other patrons turned their direction.
"Yeah," Harry responded, picking up his packages. "You're a loser. See ya, loser ."
Well away from the ice cream shoppe, Lily hugged her son. "Well, no one can accuse you of being slow on your toes, honey," she said. "That was some fast thinking. I know I shouldn't say this, but I loved your insult. I know as your mother I shouldn't be encouraging this behavior, but I nearly bust a gut when you said he was a loser. You don't know how long I've wanted to say those exact words."
"Then why didn't you?" Harry replied, genuinely curious. He hadn't known his mother to back off anything in the month he'd come to know her.
"It's a little complicated. Suffice to say your father technically works as a subordinate to Frank Longbottom and if I'd said anything it would have meant repercussions to him. But you saying it doesn't have the same bark as if I'd said it. You understand?"
"Sure. But let's face it, mum, he was a stuck-up kid. Spoiled too."
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