The Hardest Thing
A/N: Writing is a magical thing. It can be a way to express yourself, vent anger, and accept circumstances around you. For me, it is often a healing process. I know that all my readers probably tire of reading that all my writing is based off of my experiences and emotions, but writing always makes me feel better. This story is for the real life Matthew.
Disclaimer: Not mine; it's JKR's. Also I don't own Sleepyhead Sun by Chris Rice, Wallace and Gromit by Nick Park and Ardman, and Lucky Charms owned by General Mills.
"If I had never had you in my life, I would have much less pain that taught me about life and love. If you had given up, I wouldn't laugh half as much as I do now. Without you by my side, I would never be the person I am today." ~ Anonymous
Chapter 1
Harry stood over the crib of his son, Matthew Tyler, and stared at him in admiration. He was absolutely perfect, an exact blend of his beautiful mother and father, with his black hair, sure to be messy, and his chocolate brown eyes. As Harry watched Matthew, he couldn't help but admit that he was in love, and there was nothing in the world that could compare to being a father. Harry reached his hand down to his son and brushed his large fingers against the tiny hand. Matthew looked up and giggled a precious little giggle that made Harry's heart melt.
"Good morning, Matthew! Today's your first birthday! My precious boy is getting so big!" Matthew sneezed. "Yes, he is! I'm so proud of my little boy! But you won't be a little boy much longer, will you? No, you'll be growing up and going to school and making girls hearts break! And in a few more years, I'll take you on your first broomstick ride, and you'll join a professional Quidditch team! You'll be as brilliant as your mother, and-"
"As handsome and brave as your father." Hermione Potter said from the doorway of her son's nursery. "There are my two men!" She walked over and lifted Matthew from his crib. "Good morning, my sleepyhead sun!" She rubbed her nose against his and Harry smiled. His wife had always been beautiful, but when she held their infant son, she was simply angelic. She began to sing to him the song she always sang: Sleepyhead Sun. Harry couldn't help but feel that his life was perfect as he let the babbling sounds of his son and the soprano voice of his wife wash over him.
When the song was over, Harry kissed Hermione soundly and took his son from her arms. He kissed his forehead softly. Hermione slid her arm through Harry's and they stood, watching their son.
"He's so amazing," Hermione said. "It's just amazing to think that something so perfect came from you and me."
"I don't want him to grow up too fast, but it's going to be so wonderful seeing how he grows and learns things."
"God has a great plan for my little Matthew," Hermione breathed. The little family stayed in the nursery for a few more minutes, basking in the glow of the warm morning sun and the love that resided in their hearts.
Two years later…
Harry awoke early on that fateful June morning to the feel of someone wriggling up between him and Hermione's sleeping form, shaking the bed ferociously. Harry opened his eyes groggily and saw a little black haired boy on his chest, looking him in the eye.
"Matt, it's too early, go back to your room and sleep some more."
"Daddy, I'm gonna fly today! Take me on your old Firebolt? Please?"
The sound of her son's voice roused Hermione. She sat up and pulled Matthew off of Harry, tickling him and cherishing his little giggles. Unable to disappoint his son, Harry forced himself to sit up. He grabbed his glasses from the bedside table and ruffled his hair to get it out of his face. Hermione laughed and hugged Matthew tighter.
"Daddy loves early morning flights, doesn't he sweetie?"
Matthew smiled and squirmed out of Hermione's arms. "C'mon, Daddy!"
Harry, now awake, jumped out of bed and lifted Matthew up into the air so that his head was mere inches from the ceiling. He giggled again and reached for Harry's neck. Harry set him on his shoulders and walked him back to his room. As they walked, Matthew clung to Harry's neck in a way that made his heart melt. He walked into the old nursery, now decorated with Wallace and Gromit toys and Thomas the Tank Engine pictures. Harry set his abnormally small son on the dresser and pulled out a dinosaur t-shirt, khaki shorts, and small buckled sandals. Struggling against Matthew's squirming, Harry finally got his son clothed. He knelt down to let Matthew get on his shoulders again and walked back to his and Hermione's room.
Hermione sat at her vanity, fixing her hair into a messy bun. Harry and Matthew walked over behind her, Harry still in his boxers and shirt. Harry kissed Hermione soundly (despite Matthew's squirms of disgust) and handed their son to her. She entertained him while Harry dressed in jeans and a shirt, and, when he was ready, took her son's hand while Harry took the other and led him outside.
The Potters lived in a large country house in the hill country of England. The brown stone house looked out towards the vacant yellow-dirt road and brown picket fence. Behind the house was ten acres of land surrounded by trees. This area gave Matthew plenty of room for a swing set and sandbox, Hermione plenty of room for a garden and a patio to grill on and hang a swing, and Harry plenty of room for a professional sized Quidditch pitch. The surrounding trees blocked it from an outsider's view, allowing Harry to fly wherever he wanted. Harry thought that his Quidditch pitch was the best place in the world, and that morning he would be sharing it with his son for the first time.
Once they entered the Quidditch pitch and Harry got his Firebolt out of the broom closet he mounted and took a very excited Matthew from Hermione. He carefully placed his son on the broom correctly, putting Matthew as close to him as possible. Hermione looked at her two men nervously.
"Harry, do be careful…"
"Hermione, love, you know I will. He's my son, too."
"Alright, I suppose… I'm going to stay here and watch you two. Matthew, make sure Daddy doesn't hurt himself."
Matthew could care less about her warning. "Bye, Mommy."
Harry and Hermione laughed. Harry looked down at his son's tousled black hair. "Okay, Matthew! The first thing you need to do when we fly is to make sure that you have a really, really hard grip on the handle. Here," he took Matthew's right hand and made his little fingers open around the broomstick. "Like this."
He pulled his hand back as though burned. "OUCH! Daddy, my hand hurts!"
Harry took Matthew's hand gently, concern filling his face. "Where does it hurt?"
"Everywhere."
"Does your left hand hurt?"
"Uh-huh."
Harry frowned. "Maybe we should wait to fly."
"No, Daddy! It doesn't hurt no more."
Harry sighed and looked towards Hermione. She shrugged and motioned for him to continue with the flight. Harry looked into Matthew's green and browned specked eyes.
"If they hurt again, tell me, Okay?"
"K. Can we go now?"
"Alright. Just hold on tight, lean against me, and I'll take care of the rest." Matthew looked ahead, determined. Harry kicked off of the ground and Matthew squealed with delight. Harry flew seven feet off the ground slowly, wanting to give his son the experience of flight but not go too high up.
"Matt, How do you like this?"
"THIS IS COOL!" Matthew's smile spread broadly across his face. They flew around in circles for a while before Harry went into a little dive. Hermione screamed in terror and Matthew screamed in delight. Harry smiled and waved to Hermione, positioned below.
"Did you like diving?"
"YEAH, THIS IS SO COOL!"
"You're doing great for your first flight!"
"Really?"
"Really Really."
They flew for heaven knows how long before Matthew's nose began to run. Harry ignored at first until he saw blood.
"WHOA, Matt, you okay, buddy?"
"I think my nose is bleeding."
Harry quickly descended and scooped Matthew up, running him towards Hermione.
"'Mione, his nose just started bleeding for no reason! He didn't do anything and we were only four feet off the ground!"
Matthew was sitting quite calmly in his father's arms, despite his heavy breathing. By this time, his shirt was covered in sticky, warm blood. Hermione picked him up gently, ignoring the blood that pooled on her shirt.
"Shhh, he'll be okay, Harry. Matthew, you're going to have to rid this the muggle way; it's much too tricky to cure it with magic. Can you do something for me?"
"What?"
"Tilt your head back and close your eyes. Try to breath normally, okay sweetie?"
Matthew did as he was told. After a minute, the blood began to slowly ebb, but his breathing was still ragged. His face was pale beneath his raven black hair, making Harry's heart break. He reached out and softly ruffled his hair.
"Atta boy, Matthew. You'll be okay, please try to breathe."
"I am trying. I am breathing as normally as I can."
Harry leaned towards Matthew's chest and listened for signs of wheezing, but there were none. His lungs seemed fine except for the fact that he was breathing heavily. Hermione lifted his head up as the bleeding stopped.
"Matthew, let's go inside and sit down. You need to rest for a bit so you don't get hurt again." He leaned against her and placed his thin arms around her neck, burying his head in her loosened hair. She carried him to the house, Harry close behind.
"Hermione, I don't know what happened. I'm so, so sorry."
She looked at him and Matthew raised his head to look, too. "Harry, it's not your fault. I don't blame you one bit."
Harry gave a little smile for Matthew's benefit. They stepped into the house and Hermione set him at his little chair at the breakfast table. He turned his pale face to Harry.
"Daddy, my hands hurt again."
Harry knelt beside him. "Thanks for telling me. I'll do all I can to make them feel better."
He patted his shoulder softly, relieved at the slower pace of his breathing. He joined Hermione at the cabinet and poured some Lucky Charms into a Lucky the Leprechaun bowl. Hermione poured milk on top, and he took it to Matthew.
"Eat up, little man. Lucky Charms, your favorite."
Matthew picked up his spoon and began to eat slowly. Harry returned to Hermione who, to his surprise, was trying to fight back tears.
"Hermione, babe, what's the matter?"
Hermione sighed and leaned against him.
"I just wish I knew what happened to him."
Harry rubbed her back gently. "He's okay now. I bet it was just one of those fluke things. He sure seems perfectly lively now." He jerked his head towards Matthew, who was staging a nail-biting fight between two spoons, complete with roaring sound effects. Hermione laughed and walked over to tell him to stop playing with his food.
After a bath and a fresh set of clothes, Matthew was as good as new, except for his complaint of pain in his hands and now his knees. Harry wanted to believe that Matthew was just trying to get attention from his previous escapades, but he couldn't help but worry. His little man had never vied for attention before now, and Harry couldn't help but feel that Matthew's pains were real. He went through the rest of the day quietly, occasionally rubbing his hands and knees.
That night, Harry and Hermione tucked Matthew in and read him a bedtime story. When he fell asleep, they headed towards their room. As they lay against each other in bed, Harry was unusually quiet.
Hermione sighed and leaned her head against his smooth chest. "I'm worried about him, too, but tomorrow's his third birthday. Maybe he'll feel better tomorrow."
Harry sighed. "Hopefully. Time goes way too fast. It seems like just yesterday you were pregnant with him, and we sat around anxiously awaiting the arrival of our beautiful baby."
Hermione smiled. "Tell me about it. I can't believe he's three. He's a good kid."
Harry agreed, hoping that his son's aches and pain would be gone in the morning. He pulled Hermione closer to him and they both fell into a deep sleep.
A/N: Please R &R!
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