Chapter 6 Shadows

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The bacon sizzled above the stove as Harry prepared breakfast, its scent filling his nose with familiarity. This wasn't a huge task by any means; he was used to making breakfast for the Dursleys. Still, it was nice to be able to cook without worrying about thin, disapproving lips screaming at him every five minutes. After all, nothing had ever been good enough for his aunt's ickle Dudders. He smiled; he didn't have to worry about that here.

"Thanks for helping out, Harry."

"It's okay," he answered distractedly, busy turning the bacon over. It hissed as the aroma released into the kitchen, grease and oil sizzling in the pan. What had once been a stressful affair actually seemed pleasant and calming when he didn't have his aunt breathing down his neck like a bony Hungarian Horntail.

Lily eyed him suspiciously. "I'm curious, Harry, to know when you turned into a chef. Only time you had showed interest in cooking was when we got you the Magic Desert Oven when you were five. Burned the cookies every time –you didn't cast a spell on yourself, did you?"

"What?"

"Just because you're of age now does not meanyou need to use magic for everything! Honestly Harry –"

"What are we screaming at Harry about?"

Lily turned to acknowledge her husband, who had been running a hand through severely disheveled hair. "We are not doing anything. I am yelling, not screaming." She placed her hands on her hips. "Your son –"

"Oh, so when he's in trouble, he's just my son now, is he?" he teased, smiling patiently.

"Your son has been using spells on himself to enhance his culinary skills."

"But I didn't use a spell!" Harry groaned. "She's being paranoid! You'rebeing paranoid."

Sparkling green eyes flashed dangerously as Lily opened her mouth to snap back –James decided it was best to intervene. "The bacon's burning!" he shouted.

Lily swiftly turned on instinct –sure enough, there was now a coal-like quality to the unsupervised bacon. She flicked an urgent finger in the direction of the stove; to Harry's surprise, the knob controlling the stove switched off on its own.

She can do wandless magic?

James nodded in approval. "I forgot how much of a magic booster pregnancy is."

Lily smiled "I didn't. Remember that time at Hogwarts when I was pregnant with Violet? When Harry got himself lost?"

"He wasn't lost, Lils, just picking up on that Marauder penchant for exploring –"

"–and worrying his mother so sick that she would have blown up some of Albus's possessions if her ex-Marauder husband hadn't stopped her." Lily finished, gazing at James affectionately.

Albus's possessions –Harry blushed, remembering his own temper tantrum in Professor Dumbledore's office. Unfortunately, that occasion was not one to laugh about; the meeting had been very serious, concerning not Harry's physical whereabouts, but the placement of a great burden upon his shoulders –Harry, the Boy-Who-Lived; Harry, the Chosen One; Harry, not the person, but a fulfillment of a prophecy, an icon of achievement and of the past and future downfall of Lord Voldemort.

Although he had felt justified in his fury at the time, he still regretted his loss of control, of wearing his heart on his sleeve. He scowled, kicking himself mentally for invoking Snape's words. –Snape, the betrayer, the Death Eater. Dumbledore's murderer.

Fists clenched tightly, Harry had managed to disperse his scowl by the time Lily turned to face him. "Would you mind waking Violet up for breakfast?" she asked casually, but her eyes warned him –perhaps about her state of mind after the Dementor attack. His interest was piqued –just how differently had Potter family had fared through the years? Unfortunately, a direct question would be too suspicious; from the way they talked about it, Harry was expected to know exactly what had happened to his little sister, whatever it may be.

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