Ah. Neville Longbottom was the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry hadn't met him but was sure to when they went to Hogwarts. He liked the idea of meeting him. He must be awfully brave to have gotten rid of a dark lord when he was only a year old. Okay, Harry steeled a voice inside his head, enough hero worship on someone you haven't even met.
This having two sets of memories was going to take a bit to get used to, Harry mentally grumbled.
He snapped out of his thoughts when he heard his mother speak. "Harry, what's wrong? The potion wore off over an hour ago. Usually you would be outside playing pranks by now. You're awfully silent," she said analyzing her son's worried look.
"Mum…?" Harry asked, getting off the bed and walking to her. He now had the opportunity to do what he'd always wanted.
"Yes dear?" she gave him an odd look.
He spoke in an embarrassing way. "Can I hug you?"
She didn't know why he just asked that question, but she nodded. She was surprised when he just jumped into an embrace and hugged her. What she heard next made her smile and appreciate her son even more.
"Mum… I… I love you so much." Harry's emotions finally got the better of him and he cried for the first time in a long, long time.
Part of him knew that Ginny would be proud he'd been able to open up again.
He broke down and sobbed onto her apron. She smelled so sweet. The warmth and love she was giving him in her arms made him so comfortable he loved it.
"Shhh… everything will be okay," she said, stroking his hair. Those Potter men. Always with the untamed hair. He ought to save a fortune not needing combs or brushes for the rest of his life. She didn't know what was going on, but she liked it. However something different about him, he was quiet, polite, and seemed like a dear to her. Normally her son would be loud, rash, rude, and she had to admit, annoying. Yet the person in her arms was different. He'd changed. Maybe she should have him go gallivanting off at night more often if this is what it did to him.
"C'mon, sport, you can help me with lunch," she said encouragingly. Together they went back to the kitchen and this time Harry actually helped. It wasn't a large lunch - just a few different soups for the various palates in the family, and enough sandwiches to fill a couple Quidditch teams. Harry watched his mother as often as he could while fixing the sandwiches. She saw him watching her; sometimes he would look away embarrassed, another time when she caught those familiar green eyes starting at her she winked at him and giggled when it caused him to flush red and hurriedly look away.
Harry on the other hand couldn't help but admire his mother. The way she cooked, the way she chopped. It was similar to his style. Of course she really didn't watch what she was putting where and several times he stopped her from putting wrong ingredients in the soups. In no way did Chicken Noodle Soup have beets in it. Or, come to think of it, mustard.
His mother was quite the beauty, he had to admit, she looked very beautiful compared the pictures he saw. For some reason, she reminded him of Ginny. Physically, they were very different, but comfort wise, well, they were spot on.
After an hour or so, everyone came down for lunch. Harry immediately sat by his mother. Harry didn't say anything, but instead listened to all the conversations going on. Shelia and Rose were fraternal twins, with only minor differences. They were both red heads. Shelia had green eyes, and Rose had brown. Leon had black hair like him, but brown eyes like his dad. Sylvia had black hair with green eyes. Little Lily, the youngest of the Potters had red hair and green eyes.
Sirius' children were a surprise. Sirius' wife, Amy, was half Japanese and half American. Alex was the oldest of the Black family with his twin Jasmine who was a girl; he looked exactly like Sirius with black hair and blue eyes. Jasmine on the hand favored her mother with pale blonde hair with brown eyes. She was best friends with Shelia and Rose since they were the same age. Amanda was a mixture. She had brown hair and brown eyes. Baby Eric had black hair, and brown eyes.
Harry had never been in a family setting outside of the Weasleys. Even there, with Mrs. Weasley fussing over him like he had been their child as well, he couldn't help but feel a little like an outsider. Here, however, this was his family. He listened in on the conversations. Some people were quiet, others boisterous and loud. Jokes, pranks, and Quidditch were all being discussed by boys and girls. Harry ate quietly, just enjoying being immersed in a true family setting. They may not have started out as his family, per se, but they were his, right? At least part of his.