The most brilliant baby in the world
for my husband and my new little dude 😍 i’m over the moon xo
(plus some dramatic irony for Jily)
“…and you’ll be a brilliant Quidditch player, even better than I was!” James was saying when Lily entered the nursery with a basket of clean baby clothes. He swooped a soother over Harry’s crib and watched the baby grab for it, then turned and grinned at his wife. “Look at that, Lily! See how quickly he caught that? He’s a natural.”
“That’s just a reflex, James,” Lily said, but she returned his grin. Reflex or not, she was nearly as enamored of everything Harry did as her husband was. “All babies grab for things.”
“Not like Harry,” James said proudly. “He’ll be the greatest Seeker Hogwarts has ever seen, I’m sure of it.”
“Just yesterday you said he was going to be a classical pianist, because of his long fingers, and the day before that a Muggle footballer, because of his strong legs.”
“He’s multi-talented! Don’t forget his melodious singing voice.”
Lily graced him with an exasperated smile. “That is his hungry cry and it sounds more like a siren than a song.”
“Shh, ignore her,” James whispered to Harry. The baby’s expression turned puzzled, and he reached up and wrapped his tiny fist around his father’s little finger. “No matter what she says, Mummy thinks you’re an angel.”
“Oh, I do,” Lily cooed, bending over Harry’s cradle as well and kissing his soft hair. “But that’s still different from what your daddy thinks, which is that you’re a child prodigy even though you’re only eleven days old.”
“He is. Look at those eyes.” Harry was still clutching James’ finger, and James was gazing at him adoringly. “Those are the eyes of a deep thinker.”
Lily laughed, her insides feeling all warm and gooey as she watched her boys. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“As you should,” James said with mock-formality, glancing up from Harry’s curious face. “Your good looks are also why Harry could be a baby model, I expect. He’d be brilliant in adverts for nappies or pureed cauliflower or some such.”
That earned him an affectionate eye-roll. “You’re ridiculous.”
James looked affronted. “How so? Do you deny that our son is perfect?”
“Well, then. The only thing ridiculous here is that you won’t acknowledge his genius. He can be anything he wants—Minister of Magic, the next Elton John, captain of the Wimbourne Wasps—anything!” He smoothed a hand over Harry’s thick black hair, and the baby nuzzled into his father’s touch. James smiled, his expression overflowing with love. “Who knows? He might even save the world one day.”
