Happy birthday, Harry.
(For Jily Week day 4: birthdays)
The moment Lily sees the cat slink into Harry’s room, she knows she’s fighting a losing battle. Getting Harry down for the night is a challenge as it is, but he will always, without fail, refuse to settle whenever the cat is around.
Right on cue, he flings himself against the bars of his cot and cries, “Tat!”
“Cat is going to bed now,” Lily tells him, unwavering. “Because it’s bedtime, isn’t it? Bedtime for Harry and cat.”
Harry ignores her, flailing chubby fists in the cat’s direction. “TAT!”
The cat blinks at him slowly, then turns and stalks out of the room.
“Gone?” Harry looks gobsmacked, and then the bottom lip trembles, small face crumpling, and Lily hastily cradles him to her, stroking his soft black hair, before the wails can really escalate. “Mummum,” he says tearfully into her shoulder, a sound that still pierces Lily’s heart, even though he’s been saying it for over a month now. She stays still, her arms wrapped around him, and after a few minutes his snuffles stop. She peers down at him. He’s fast asleep.