Chapter Text
It's late, supper several hours passed when the knocking at the door comes. Grumbling and creaking, Paul Evans puts aside his book and rises up from his seat in front of the fireplace. Shuffling towards the front room, he stretches his arms above his head and wonders who could be calling this late in the evening. More knocks resound around the small home and muttering under his breath, Paul rises his voice to shout out; "I'm coming! Just wait, okay?!"
The pounding stops, but a new noise takes over; crying. Curiously, Paul quickens his step and doesn't even stop to peer out his little peep hole when he opens his door to see his eldest daughter's long, pinched, face and in her arms, a baby. "Pet?" He inquires with a frown. Inspecting the infant's face, Paul realizes with mild surprise it's not his grandson Dudley, but little Harry. "What are you doing with Harry? Where's Lily?" He asks.
The young woman's face twists even more and in a strangled voice, she begs, "Daddy, let me come in; I'll explain once you're sitting down."
Running a hand through his thinning hair, the old man tries not to let the apprehension overwhelm him as he takes a step aside letting his daughter inside. "Let me get some tea for us," he mutters, heading towards the kitchen. Then eyeing the sniveling infant, Paul says with some decisiveness, "I'll pull out some biscuits for the little one, he has some teeth doesn't he?"
Petunia nods absently, bouncing the whimpering infant a bit harder than she does with Dudley. Putting the kettle on the stove, he takes out a box of biscuits and breaks them in halves before placing them on a plate to give his grandson. Shuffling to the table, Paul sinks into his seat and pushes the dish over to Petunia and Harry. "So," he starts, "Where's your sister?"
The woman's chin trembles, looking away she utters the worst thing a father can imagine. "She's dead daddy."
He's quiet for a long time. "Lily?" He whispers, "Our Lily?"
Tears in her eyes, Petunia warbles, "They left him on my doorstep, expecting me to just-just take care of him! Dudley's already such a handful..."
The man frowns at his daughter, but allows her to go on. "Oh daddy, I can't do it! What if that awful wizard who killed Lily comes after my family?"
A little more than upset with Petunia's selfishness, Paul stands up and snaps, "If you don't want my grandson just give him to me!"
His daughter startles and gazes up at him with large eyes. "Are you sure daddy? He'll be...strange like Lily."
Stubbornly, the father stares his daughter down. "Lily was never strange Pet, she was magic."
"And look where that got her!" Petunia screams, face red, "Dead! She's dead!" She shrieks. Falling back in her chair, Petunia begins to sob hands over eyes. "Oh god..."
Harry's begun to cry again, heartbreakingly loud wails piercing father's and daughter's ears. Holding out his hands, Paul says, "Give him to me."
Sniffling, Petunia reluctantly puts the baby in her father's hands. "I can't do it daddy, I'm so scared." She confides in him.
Shushing the little boy with a rhythmic rubbing of his heaving back, Paul just stares sadly at his surviving daughter. "I understand Pet."
Eyes downcast and hands clenched to white, the woman murmurs, "I'm sorry."
The baby hiccups and the grandfather kisses the baby's dark head. "Really Petunia, it's okay."
The blond looks towards the front door, "I should be getting home, Vernon always gets fretful when I leave him alone with Dudley too long." She sighs.
Resting the tiny head under his chin, Paul hums. "Just come visit soon, alright?"
His daughter looks back at him. "Of course daddy." She answers. They both know she's lying.
Finally casting her gaze towards the door again, Petunia exhales. "Let me get his things for you," she says and then lips twisting slightly she murmurs, "Not that there's much."
Jogging the baby against him, Paul nods and follows his daughter out into the damp fall air. He lets her struggle with a box and a baby-bag and bring it up and set it on the stoop for him. Face flushed from the exertion, her hand finds her back and she puffs out a breath. "The box has crib-it's easy enough to put together and the bag has his blanket, some bottles, formula, diapers, etcetera, etcetera." She explains.
Smiling at his daughter (no matter how weak and false) the old man thanks her. "Thank you Pet."
For a moment, he sees his little girl in the way her eyes melt from the praise; leaning in, the woman presses a lipstick kiss to his dry, wrinkled cheek. "Bye daddy."
Reaching around to pat her back in semblance of a hug, Paul mumbles, "Goodnight Pet."
With one last smile, his daughter turns and gets in her car driving away. Watching her go and for a long time after just watching the spot he last saw her car, Paul lets the tears spill down his cheeks. "Goodbye Lily," he whispers.
"Ba" Harry sniffles against his neck.
Bringing the infant into his sights for the first time, Paul looks at the child and sees his son-in-law and dismays, but then, those puffy, red, squinted eyes widen just enough and he sees the glimmer of green that he can only call Lily's. Bringing the baby close to comfort and for comfort, the old man breathes, "I'm sorry you don't have your mommy or daddy and I'm sorry your aunt's afraid of you and I'm sorry you won't have a grandmother, but...I love you and I promise I'll be there for you always." He tells the baby.
Harry stares up at him in that strange sort of way infants do sometimes-the one that makes you think they understand everything you say-and with a half-gummy, half-toothy smile; the little boy places a hand just a tad too thin on his cheek and mumbles, "G'pa."
Grinning truly for the first time, Paul chuckles. "Yeah, I'm grandpa, did Pet tell you you'd be seeing me?"
The baby doesn't answer; instead, he snuggles up underneath Paul's chin with a body-wide yawn.
Looking to the box and bag, Paul considers them. "You know, it's late; why don't you sleep with me tonight and I'll set up the crib tomorrow?"
The baby gibbers something at his words and cuddles closer. Bending over, the grandfather drags the child's things into his home and leaves it by the door. Going through his nightly rituals, Paul Evans never puts his grandson aside-even though it takes longer than he likes-and when he settles into bed; little Harry blinking Lily's eyes at him, Paul knows things will be okay.