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Post by valval89 on Aug 9, 2011 15:53:45 GMT -5
----------------------------- [/color]  -----------------------------[/color] HHarry James Potter strode down the hallway of his home. Sighing he looked throughout the house. No one was there. Looking in the fridge he sighed as he saw no whiskey. Ginny must have thrown it out again he thought sadly. He could never keep whiskey as his wife, who was a real health freak all of a sudden, kept throwing it out on him. He knew the kids would never get a hold of it. He hid it too well for them to find it. Sighing he straightened up and decided to go to a pub for his whiskey needs at the moment.
Going upstairs he looked through his closet to look for something to wear. Right now he only had on a pair of shorts as that was what he usually slept in. Well in winter it would be a pair of old jeans. Sighing he found a decent pair of blue jeans with no holes in them. Grinning he changed his shorts to the jeans and went in search of a shirt. He found a purple shirt that Ginny had bought him and shivered. There was only two colors that Harry couldn’t stand. Purple and pink. Oh why Ginny kept torturing with these colors of shirts for him he had no idea. Though he never said anything to her about it as he didn’t want to hurt her feelings or piss her off. That was one thing you did not do was piss Ginny Molly Potter nee Weasley off. Chuckling at the thought he found a nice blue shirt and put it on.
Looking in the mirror he stared at his untidy jet black hair. He could never do anything with it. As he had done plenty of times before he tried to flatten and tidy up his hair. After a couple minutes he gave up. It would never fix right. It didn’t look bad to him it was just something he had always tried to do. Grinning at his reflection he fixed his glasses and headed out. Harry hated apperating still. He could do it. It was easy enough. He just didn’t like how it made him feel.
So walking down the streets of England he headed to the Leaky Cauldron. Walking he noticed how blue the sky was. The white clouds hung over looking as great as ever. Smiling he walked on in the nice sunshine. He stretched again as he walked into the pub. He ordered him some whiskey and sat down at a table. Leaning back he took a sip and sighed. This was some damn good whiskey. Now all he had to do was figure out where he could hide his whiskey from Ginny.
He left the leaky cauldron and decided to go see his son. James Sirius Potter. See some things weren’t really right in Harrys mind. He couldn’t fix them, which he hated. He wanted to fix things for Hugo and Ron. To help Hugo stop drinking like he does, as Harry thought that Hugo drinked too much like his son James. He wanted to find Hermione so his bestfriend Ron wouldn’t be depressed anymore. He hated seeing his friend so broken like this. He wanted to fix things for Kelsey and James. He wanted to stop the whole horcrux thing for Kelsey, without killing her. He appearted to the quidditch pitch thinking that is where he would find James at. He limped around the pitch looking for him.
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Post by padfoot on Aug 13, 2011 23:56:53 GMT -5
sunrise, there's a fire in the sky,
never been so happy, never felt so high
and I think I might've found me my own kind of
P A R A D I S E
Wind rushing through his hair, the ice cold breeze cutting against his skin as he sped through the sky, it was an adrenaline rush that never ended. Every morning started the same, he would wake up in the better part of the early morning; when the sun had yet to rise. It had been routine for so many years now it was as though he felt wrong not to. Now his mornings had more involved in them than they had a few years prior. It used to be wake up, run, breakfast, a shot of whiskey and a cigarette, from there he would go spend hours on end at the Quidditch Pitch practicing to be the best. In the present morning although, he would wake up, give Kelsey a kiss on the cheek as she was usually dead asleep at that hour, then go check on the twins who were hopefully fast asleep in their nursery. Once that was done he would go make a pot of coffee and drink his morning coffee and shot of whiskey combined before going on his run.
Running was always a way to clear his head, he did not have a single thing to concentrate on besides the ground pounding below his feet, every other stride seeming longer than the last. It used to be he could run for hours and not tire himself out. These days it was frankly obvious that professional Quidditch was taking its toll on him physically as he had shortened his morning run from close to four miles to as little as one and a half or two on a bad day. All this was because of the stress he constantly put on an already injured multiple times knee. But of course, he would not admit to pain or anything of the sort because of his fear of hospitals and healers. Today had been one of those days, he ran almost two miles and when he got back to his front porch he lit a cigarette on contact with the wooden steps and plopped down to enjoy his cigarette and watching the sun come up.
A lot had changed and a lot had happened even in the recent months. Him and Kelsey had finally started to figure things out again, they were happy again. It had just been one thing after another since the twins were born, chaos being the end result. But at the same time, for some reason, he was still sure everything was going the way it was meant to. As the sun peaked over the horizon he exhaled his cigarette smoke and heard noises in the house. He put the cigarette out in the ash tray sitting on the railing of the porch and went inside to find that one of the twins was crying so he rushed upstairs to take care of it before it woke Kelsey and he had to hear her complain about how early it was and so on and so forth. An hour or two later when Kelsey did wake up though and he got changed into warmer but still easily maneuverable clothing and grabbed his broom and left for the Quidditch pitch after bidding good bye to Kelsey and the kids for now.
When he got to the pitch first he looked around glad to see that for now he had it all to himself. He mounted his broom and took off, first doing laps, then going into steep dives and coming out of them at the last second. It was relaxing, almost therapeutic in a way. When he was doing that, nothing else mattered except executing the moves perfectly. Then he landed on the ground once more and went to fetch the crate that contained the four balls necessary to play the broomstick sport. He only took out the largest one of the four, a crimson red ball that the chasers normally tossed back and forth and would try to get past him. For his practice today he put a charm on it that would give him the practice he wanted and released it into the sky, mounted his broom once more and took to the air.
For hours he stayed there and practiced, taking breaks every now and again for a drink of water, a cigarette or a sip from his flask and would take to the air once more positioned high up next to the fifty and sixty foot goal posts. Distractions come in packages of all shapes and sizes though and today that distraction came in the form of his father. From the sky all he saw at first was another man standing in the middle of the pitch on the ground far below him. He did not pay much attention to the man and continued with his business until he caught a glimpse of who it was standing below him. The messy jet black hair and glasses was a dead give away. His father was standing down there, watching him. What was he doing here? What could his father possibly want with him? Curiosity finally got the best of him and he waved his wand sending the Quaffle to the ground and then went down to the grass himself.
Landing about ten feet away from his father he got off his broom, wiped the sweat from his brow and then took a few slightly pained looking steps towards his dad. "So to what do I owe the visit? No practiced scheduled today, how did you know I'd be here eh? I have a house and a family and all that jazz I might have been there." he said with a slight grin on his face. It was not often him and his dad actually spoke to each other without there being a reason behind it. He wondered if there was something important his dad needed to say to him or if it was actually an honest to God attempt to see how he was doing. If it were the later, it would definitely surprise him the way things were going recently. But nonetheless it would be nice to see his dad regardless.
tagged, valval +harry potter.
lyrics, knee deep: zac brown band.
words, 1,039.
credits, padfoot's own!
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Post by valval89 on Aug 16, 2011 14:58:05 GMT -5
----------------------------- [/color] -----------------------------[/color] The day was nice and it was perfect for flying. He smiled as he watched his son practice on his own. Harry hadn’t played quidditch in years. He did miss the game. When James sent the Quaffle to the ground Harry caught it before it hit. He had to bend over to catch it which hurt his leg. He rubbed his leg then stood up. He wished he had some whiskey on him to drink. He knew his son had whiskey though. James always had whiskey. The boy drinked too much but right now he wasn’t going to harp on that fact as he really needed a sip right now.
He watched his son walk towards him. He could see the pain James was in when he walked. Harry knew when someone was in pain. He had been spending years trying to hide his own pain from everyone including his wife Ginny. He frowned as he hated to see James in pain. Hell he hated to see any of his kids in pain. He closed his eyes for a minute as the wind whipped through his untidy hair. Harry smiled at what James said. He opened his eyes and looked at his son. His smile grew when he saw the smile on his face.
Harry shrugged and threw the Quaffle at James with a smile on his face. He really wanted to get back on the broom again and play. Harry didn’t think he would be any good anymore, even though he had been a seeker he was a pretty good chaser when him and the Weasley family played during summer breaks in his school year. That was the most fun he ever had on summer break. Can’t a father just randomly visit his son on occasion he asked as he stuff his hands into his pockets to get his cigarettes that he had to hide from his wife. He light one and sighed as he blew out smoke. You can’t tell your mother about this alright he said as he looked at his oldest son.
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