glass a little higher, at arm's length.
'This is for you, Arthur,' he said firmly. 'For the father you were to all of us, not the least of which to me. And for you, Dumbledore, for doing your formidable best right to the end… and for my real dad, James the First, who I never knew but have always loved…'
James stared at the glass in his dad's hand as Harry paused. Finally, in a softer voice, he finished:
'And for you, Sirius Black, wherever you are. I miss you. I miss you all.'
Almost casually, Harry flung the Firewhisky from the glass. It made an arc in the moonlight, sparkling and spreading, and vanished into the dimness of the yard. Harry drew a deep breath and sighed, shuddering a little as he let it out. He leaned back and put his arm around his son. They sat that way for some time, watching the moon and listening to the crickets in the orchard. Eventually, James drifted to sleep. His dad carried him to bed.
'Y ou'll be fine, James,' Ginny said as she backed the car carefully into a slot next to the footpath. 'It doesn't hurt, you know. Your dad's been wearing them since he was six. You're lucky you
went this long without needing them.'
James fumed in the front seat. Behind him, Lily whined for the tenth time, 'I want to wear glasses too!'
Ginny blew the hair out of her face and jammed the shifter into 'Park'. 'Lily, if you're fortunate, you'll never have to wear anything other than sunglasses, but those you can wear all you want, love.'
'I don't want to wear sunglasses,' Lily pouted. 'I want real glasses, like James. Why does he get real glasses?'
'My eyes aren't that bad,' James insisted, not moving to get out of the car. 'I can read my school books just fine. I don't see why—'
'They aren't that bad yet,' Ginny said firmly. 'These are corrective lenses. Hopefully, they'll keep your eyesight from getting any worse. Why are you being so difficult about this?'
James scowled. 'I just don't want to wear them. I'll look like a sodding idiot.'
'Don't say that word,' Ginny said automatically. 'Besides, they don't make your father look like an idiot. Now come on. Lily, you stay here with Kreacher and have a little snack, OK? I'll be able to see you from the window and I'll be back out in just a minute. You'll keep an eye out, won't you, Kreacher?'
In the backseat, Kreacher squirmed in his bright blue child seat. 'It'd be an easier task if Kreacher wasn't imprisoned in this Muggle torture device, Mistress, but as you wish.'
'We've been through this, Kreacher. Regardless of what Muggles think they see when they look at you, children are required to ride in a safety seat. It's bad enough that you insist on wearing nothing but a tea towel. People aren't accustomed to seeing a five-year-old in a nappy.'
'It's the best disguise poor Kreacher can manage, Mistress,' he croaked morosely. 'Kreacher has never been accustomed to the society of Muggles, but Kreacher does his best with what small magic he has at his disposal.'
Ginny rolled her eyes as she climbed out of the car. 'Just tap the horn if you need anything, all right? Your 'small magic' can manage that, I'm fairly certain.'
Ginny led James toward the office.
'Why do we have to go to a Muggle eye doctor anyway?' James complained quietly. 'Aren't there magical eye doctors with, like, invisible glasses? Or spells that magically fix your eyes?'
Ginny smiled. 'Not everything has a magical solution, James. A Muggle eye doctor is as good as a magical one, and this one's more convenient than Diagon Alley. You've already been here for your exam. I don't see what you're so afraid of.'
'I'm not afraid,' James said disgustedly as they entered the lobby of the office. He looked around at the tiny waiting area. It was exactly the same as the last time he'd been there, right down to the number of fish in the grimy aquarium and the magazines on the end table.
'James Potter,' Ginny told the fat woman behind the glass partition. 'We have a two o'clock appointment with Doctor Prendergast.'
James plopped into the same chair he'd sat in the last time he'd been there. He kicked his heel on the thin carpet, grumbling to himself.
A few minutes later, Dr. Prendergast emerged, smiling, skinny, and red-cheeked. He tucked his own glasses into a pocket of his white coat.
'Do come back, James,' he said jovially. 'Your mother can come too if she likes.'
Ginny glanced at James. 'Do you want me to? I can go get Lily and bring her back with us.'
He sighed and stood up. 'No. Go ahead and check on her. Kreacher's probably trying to feed her caviare for a snack again.'
Ginny grinned at Dr. Prendergast and then threw a quick warning look at James. 'The glasses are already paid for, James. Just come out to the car once you're done with the doctor, all right?'
'Is Kreacher some sort of family pet?' Dr. Prendergast asked James as he led him into the examination room.
'He's my half-brother,' James replied. 'He lives in the basement. We feed him a bucket of fish heads twice a week.'
Dr. Prendergast blinked at James, his smile growing somewhat brittle. 'That's very, ahem, amusing, James. What an interesting imagination.'
James sat on the edge of the examination chair as the doctor put on his own glasses and rummaged in a cabinet. He produced a box and opened it on the table.
'Here we are,' he said happily, extracting a pair of black eyeglasses. To James, they looked three times wider than his head. He slumped.
'Let me just help you get them on and we'll test the prescription. Won't take a minute.'
He held them out to James, and then slipped them onto his head. James closed his eyes as the glasses settled onto his ears. When he opened them again, the world looked very slightly smaller and warped a bit around the edges. He glanced around, trying to get used to the feeling.
'There!' the doctor said brightly. 'And how does that feel?'
James sighed again. 'All right, I guess. It's a little weird.'
'That's perfectly natural. You'll get used to them in no time at all.'
James had already determined that he would not let that happen. He intended to wear the dreaded glasses for his mum to see for the next two days, and then to stick them in his trunk the moment he got on the Hogwarts Express. He didn't really need them anyway. He was sure of it.
Dr. Prendergast sat James on a stool in the corner of the examination room and turned him toward the eye chart on the opposite wall. James covered one eye at a time and read down the chart in a dejected monotone. The doctor nodded happily, removed his own glasses again and opened the blinds of the small room, letting in the afternoon sunlight.
'That's very good, James,' he said, opening the examination room door. 'We're mostly done. Just let me schedule your follow-up appointment and you can be off.'
When James was alone in the room, he stood up and approached the mirror next to the window. The glasses weren't really that bad, he thought, but they were bad enough. They felt heavy and clunky on his face. He
