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Dinner, Interrupted

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“He shoots. He scores! Another ten points to Gryffindor. Potter’s on fire tonight. Look, he’s taken possession of the Quaffle again! Excellent broom handling as he dodges left and right. That hoop is wide open… goal!”

Harry claps his chubby hands, giggling, as James scoops up more baby food.

SPLAT.

James blinks. Mashed potato slowly slides down his glasses and falls into his lap. A bottlebrush tail swipes across the lenses, giving him a smeary view of something huge and orange crouched in his bowl.

Of course. That dratted “sweet” “cat” that Lily brought home last week. James isn’t sure either of those are true.

“Can I take that one back?”

“Nope, sorry bro,” Lily says, smothering a grin in a bite of her pristine cottage pie.

James glares at the cat, who stares back at him while smugly licking his paw. Bastard.