As Close As A Father To Me

Set in Harry's Fourth Year just before the third task. I know it wouldn't have been father's day in that year but oh well :')

And once again, that day arrived. The day when students started sending off letters and gifts back home to their fathers, telling them how much they mean to them, and how much they love them. To Harry Potter, it was a day of bitter regret and false smiles. Oh, and of course keeping his voice on a loop of 'I'm fine' every few minutes when his friends asked if he was ok.

It wasn't that he was jealous…at least, that's what he tried to tell himself. But in truth, he was. It was only natural to feel the pangs of jealousy flare up whenever he saw someone adding a kiss at the end of a lovely letter to their dad, when he couldn't even remember his own father. As with every other year, Harry spent father's day with a photo in his pocket, which he kept glancing at every now and again, to remind himself that, though it often felt otherwise, he did have a father. He just wasn't here anymore.

The photo was of a tall man, holding a baby in his arms. The man had glittering hazel eyes and a grin on his face. His glasses were a little lopsided and his hair stuck out in every direction. The boy in his hands, even at such a young age, had an uncanny resemblance to him. All but his eyes, which were practically glowing they were such a bright green. The child was laughing, one hand on his father's cheek, his face full of joy. The man kept on looking down at his son with a loving expression on his face.

Harry wasn't sure if looking at the photo made him feel better or worse. Was it good to be reminded he was once loved more than anything else in the world, even if it meant remembering now there was no-one to whom he was the ultimate priority?

The day wore on even slower than usual. Harry was too lost in his thoughts to notice when people stared at him. With only four days to go until the third task, his mind was set on two things – staying alive, and not letting his friends know how much it hurt when hey said the word 'dad'.

He wasn't sure why it hurt so much on this particular day. It was just a day in the year. It was the same as any other day; his friends always had their fathers just as he always didn't have his. It was just the title of it: 'Father's Day'. It was so obvious, like flashing lights mocking him and taunting him. Like a day determined to get him down. And it always managed to.

It wasn't until dinner that Harry thought of the solution. And it was Hermione that gave it to him.

"Harry, I think we need to practice the Impediment Jinx again, you still haven't got it quite right." Hermione said cheerfully as she began piling some pasta on to her plate.

"Yeah sure," Harry replied, not looking up from his chicken and mushroom pie. He was picking at his food slowly, listening to the buzz of happy voices with morbid thoughts swirling around in his head.

"Are you ok?" the girl asked for the umpteenth time.

"I'm fine," Harry said firmly, still not looking up.

Harry felt Hermione's sceptical gaze on him, but kept his eyes on his food as he ate slowly; pulling a face as he discovered he had played with his meal so long it had gone cold.

"I think you need to go do something Harry." Hermione stated shortly, never one to dance around the subject.

"Like what?" he asked, tired of trying to pretend he wasn't fed up.

"I don't know…something!" Hermione cried, shrugging her shoulders unhelpfully. It was typical that the girl had all the answers when he didn't need them, but now she had no idea what to say.

"Harry, look at me." Hermione said, reaching over to wave her hand in front of Harry's face. He looked up unwillingly, staring into her dark eyes. "Snuffles told you to keep your chin up. He didn't just mean about the tasks, he meant generally. He wouldn't want you this upset. Please be happy again, I hate it when you're like this."

Harry was about to retort angrily, telling her he was sorry for missing his parents whom he can no longer remember, but he stopped before he even said the first word. A smile started to spread across his face, his eyes lighting up a little and his lips upturning. He nodded experimentally, as if testing to make sure his neck still worked, and then stood abruptly.

Ron, who had literally just taken a seat beside him, looked up in wonder. "Well mate, I'm sorry but what have I done now? Just taking off now I've got here, eh?" he asked with a joke in his voice.

Harry didn't even pretend he'd listened.

"Bye you two, I'll see you later," he said hastily, scrambling away from the bench and running out of the Great Hall ignoring the dirty looks he received as he nearly fell into a group of girls from Beauxbatons.

He clambered up the steps towards the North Tower, only remembering to dodge the trick step just in time due to his excitement.

He entered the Gryffindor Common Room to find it vacant, but he didn't stop there. He kept running towards the boy's dormitories, only slowly as he reached the correct door and toppling into the room.

"Oh, hey Harry!" Neville said cheerfully, trying to conceal a piece of parchment he had been scrawling on. Harry waved briefly, feeling breathless as he began scrabbling at his trunk, rooting through it until he extracted some parchment, a battered quill and a pot of ink.

Barely pausing to think, Harry began writing.

OIOIO

High up on the side of a mountain was a cave. Because of its unique position, you could spy on the village of Hogsmeade from the mouth of it, but at the same time could remain concealed for as long as you liked. And this was exactly what a large black dog was doing as the sun began to descend into the horizon.

He looked sad, his grey eyes – so unusual for a dog – seemed to convey a hundred emotions that dog's shouldn't be able to have. He rested his chin on his paw and laid flat, his dark coat shining in the dying glow of the sunset. He was covered in mud and dust, his muzzle stained with the blood of the rats he had been eating.

He didn't move for a very long time. Had anyone been watching, they would have thought it had died. But it hadn't.

Suddenly, his ears perked up and his mouth opened and began panting with excitement. Towards it, a large snowy owl was soaring gracefully. The dog looked on the verge of barking with delight as the owl approached, following the bird into the cave. There was a slight movement, and abruptly in the place of the dog was a man. The man was no cleaner than the dog, and his eyes were the exact same shade, filled with the exact same emotions.

He smiled as he untied a letter and package attached to the owl's leg, stroking her white feathers gently.

She hooted calmly before taking off once more without waiting to rest.

The man opened the letter carefully, as if it was more precious to him than his own life.

He began reading the words, seemingly unashamed of the tears that began to trickle down his cheeks.

Dear Padfoot,

I guess I can't say everything I want to say in this letter, in case someone else reads it, but I just wanted to let you know how much you mean to me. It's father's day today and everyone has been sending gifts and letters to their dads. It makes me feel so jealous every year. I know my dad wouldn't want me to feel sad about him not being here, and I know I should just be proud he died the way he did, but I can't help but hate the fact he and mum left me.

But I realised today that I haven't completely lost my dad, because now I have you. The way I feel about you is the way I imagine a kid would feel about his dad, and I don't know if you knew that already, so I'm telling you now. You're the closest thing to a dad I have, Padfoot and I hate that I can't see you all the time.

I don't exactly have a present for you, but I hope this will do – aside from the ham I'm sending of course.

I found it in the album Hagrid gave me for my birthday once, and I never knew who it was of other than my dad. I guess it's you. I think my dad would want you to have it, and I think you'd probably like it to keep you company.

Thanks for everything Padfoot, I love you. You mean the world to me, and I'm so glad you found me.

Happy father's day.

Love, Harry a.k.a Mini-Prongs x

Sirius Black nodded, tenderly lifting the photo that had fallen to the floor from the letter. It was of two teenage boys, both laughing raucously and chasing one another on brooms. It was clear who the more skilful flyer was, and Sirius felt tears trickle down his face as he watched young James catch his younger self with ease.

"I love you too, Harry."

OIOIO

Firstly, I know there probably isn't really a father's day in the wizarding world, but give me the benefit of the doubt, ok? :)

Hope you enjoyed it, it's just a little father's day gift for everyone.

Also, as for Neville, for those of you who have forgotten about Frank Longbottom's condition… I think Neville will probably have someone to write to as a thank you the same as Harry. I just don't know who.