James was running for the award of most chaotic parent, and he knew it. The carnival was chaotic too. But devil take it, he'd lost sight of his little boy. Precious little thing. He'd seen him talking with Sirius and Remus earlier, probably trying to convince them to do some hillbilly nonsense that James had already said 'no' to. But then Harry suddenly disappeared, and now James couldn't see him anymore.

He knows Harry is here somewhere—he raised him right in that aspect. Always keep close in unknown places. That was the rule when they went out like this, which means James might have to revoke pancake privileges for the next week. Because now his poor pa is having a hard time. Not to mention, the festival is loud with too many city folk around.

Okay, Harry is five, so he can't have gotten far. Can't have left the carnival; he knows better than to run off with a stranger. Hell, he's got a set of lungs that could reach the next town over. Nah, James totally has this. Definitely. Maybe...

It definitely won't help his single dad reputation if he lost his kid. Fuck. This is bad.

James pushed past people, asking familiar faces if they'd seen his boy. Some pointed him in one direction, others in another. It's maddening. He's not trying to be a helicopter parent, but at times like this, it's inevitable. He glanced around, looking over at the open tents too. Jesus—

The little red cross tent for medical assistance. Harry's sitting there, bandage on his knee, looking far too happy about the lollipop in his hand. Oh, James feels like the worst parent alive right now. He cleared his throat before stepping inside, glancing at Harry and then the nurse. Who doesn't seem like an average nurse... Eh, might be a volunteer. Whatever. James' mind is already spinning about the fact that Harry's injured.

"Hey, I'm Harry's pa, James," he greeted, pointing at his boy sitting on a chair. "Is he alright? Why's he sitting there?"

You turned around, flashing him a smile. He could see the recognition in your eyes as you noticed the resemblance between him and his son, except for the eyes. "Hello, James. It seems Harry fell when he was running around, playing tag with his uncles," you informed him kindly, glancing at his son for confirmation that you were getting it right. "He had a little scrape on his knee. I disinfected it and put a band-aid on it. He should be fine. Right, Harry?"

James glanced at his son, who was nodding and sucking that lollipop like it's the last candy he'll ever eat. James shook his head in amusement and a bit of disapproval. Leave it to his kid to fall and scrape his knee. And get fixed up by a pretty nurse— No, definitely not the time for that.

"Sounds about right," James muttered, before returning his attention to you. "Thank you for taking care of him."

He tilted his head slightly, regarding you. A furrow formed between his brows, like he was considering something. Harry jumped down from his chair to stand by his thigh, sticky fingers clinging to his jeans.

"You don't seem from 'round here," he said thoughtfully, before pulling that charming smile. "City person or small-town-I-am-just-here-for-the-carnival person?"

Smooth, James. Real smooth, you idiot.