The date had been planned for ages. I myself had been the one to suggest it, telling Lily and Prongs they needed time off from an almost year old Harry. They had been discreet about their nervousness in this situation, but I could see how wary they were to leave Harry with an inexperienced sitter such as me.

When I arrived that night a full five minutes before I had to, both James and Lily had arched their eyebrows at me. I could see why; I was always late, never on time for anything. Even important things like my work and classes at Hogwarts, when I went there, I was always, at best, five minutes late.

I had scooped little Harry out of his mother's hands the minute I spotted him and that had confused Lily, too. I, with my devilishly handsome looks and fashionable attire, had always asked Lily if Harry's nappy had been changed before grabbing him. Honestly, you never know what's in those things. Anyway, both of Harry's parents were thrown off by my mood tonight so it took them a little longer than it should've to get out of the house.

James eyed me suspiciously, putting his jacket on as Harry bounced up and down in my arms, cooing. "Are you planning on corrupting him while we're gone?" I laughed deeply.

"No." Yes, I thought to myself gleefully, as Harry looked up at me with his green eyes, smiling. Lily and James kissed ickle Harry's innocent face. He giggled and grabbed James' glasses, but Prongs, with his excellent reflexes, snatched them back quickly, making Harry whimper.

Okay, I haven't been completely truthful with you. Holding, playing, bouncing- I was good with all of those. Nappies, feeding, spit-up- I could handle those to a certain degree. Crying was one thing I could not control. Ever.

Aware that I was being watched, I shushed Harry and patted him on the back. To my absolute delight, he let out a little burp and laughed a little. James and Lily, thoroughly shell shocked, decided that this was the time to leave and they exited quite fast.

Harry James Potter, the little baby Prongs, my adorable fetching godson, with his messy hair and bright eyes, took his hand off my shoulder and touched my cheek. He giggled, showing his few teeth. I grinned back and he touched my mouth. It was about then that I realized that I could never hurt his innocence; he was just too cute to corrupt. And it would be no fun if I felt guilty after.

So, instead, I played with Harry for an hour (I think I might've had more fun than him) and then decided to sit on the sofa as I fed him. He was a good eater, only fussy when the food was unidentifiable, like any normal child should be. Harry was always better at eating when I pretended that the Quaffle had to go through the hoop. He is going to be the best Quidditch player of his time. Really. And I'm not just saying that because he's the best godson ever, or anything.

He'll be a lady's man, too. Everyone will love him. Harry Potter will have the best parents, godfather, and uncles. Well, maybe not Wormtail. He's been a little twitchy lately and he just makes Harry cry. Like I said before, I don't do crying. Also, Harry looks like a little red old man when he cries. Not many ladies find little red men attractive.

After he ate and I burped him, something I'm quite an expert on (having done it a total of two times), Harry looked up at me from his position in my lap. I realized he was waiting for a story.

"Well, uh, once upon a time," I started, but Harry scrunched up his little face. "No?" Harry blinked his emerald eyes. "Not long ago.." Harry made the same face and stuck his hand in his mouth, coating it with drool. He made a move to touch my face with his drooly hand but I moved and his face welled up, on the verge of tears once more.

"Wait, Prongslet. I'll give you some advice." First, I wiped off his hand on my shirt because I was too lazy to pull out my wand. Then, I sat him against the arm of the couch so he could be near me, see me, and still be comfy. It was a stroke of genius on my part, really. Harry smiled contently.

I settled myself back into the sofa and started to talk to him. "I'll have you know that I am an experienced lady's man. Just in case I'm not around a lot when you get older, I'll give you a bit of advice. Girls like honesty." Little Harry snorted, kicking his feet out on my lap. "Yeah, I know! But it's okay to lie to them sometimes. Like when they ask you if something looks good on them and it looks hideous. Just a little white lie. It never hurt anybody. One time, I had a girlfriend who wore a dress completely covered in phoenix feathers. I knew it had cost a fortune so I complimented her. Boy, was she mad when your Daddy told her I was lying just to get a good snog."

Harry squinted his eyes at me, his small nose wrinkling up. "Moving on, it's okay to say no sometimes. Especially to Madame Puddifoot's. Never, ever, let a girl drag you in there. It's atrocious and you'll regret it forever. Except if you're really in love and don't want to wear the trousers in the relationship, then go ahead and bloody do it." My godson's lips curled, letting off a radiant smile as he clapped his hands together.

"Hm, what else? Oh. If a girl says she doesn't like you or doesn't like you anymore, you shouldn't believe it. I mean look at your Mummy and Daddy. You would not be here if it wasn't for your Mum finally saying yes after four years of pestering. Also, girls are very confusing. They say one thing and mean another; if you believe the wrong thing, they'll use a Stinging Hex. Or some equally terrifying jinx. So never try to figure out a girl. And if you wait for them, one day they'll come. Except girls do a lot more waiting than guys. They say we're wankers, when they really want to snog us. Bollocks, right?"

I shrugged. Harry imitated me, bunching his shoulders up against the arm of the sofa, then sticking his hand in his mouth once more. I let out a sigh, which the little guy also copied. He waved his spit- covered hand around and let out a garbled string of words. I wiped off his hand, looking at his disgruntled face.

"Drooling, most girls don't like drooling unless it's done over them. If you're still doing that when you're ready to start snogging, most girls will say no thanks. Not many people like wet kisses. Hell, you're so handsome they might change their minds anyway. Another thing, never, ever hit a girl. Even if she's being a pain in the arse." The little Prongslet was looking at me solemnly, but I could see his eyelids getting heavy. "If you don't want to be a gentleman, then find a girl who won't cry when you have to cancel a date. You have to find a girl who won't beg you for something just because you have the money. Your perfect girl will be more than willing to go to the ends of the universe for you, but won't cling to you. She'll be able to stick up for herself and tell you when you're being a right prat."

Surprisingly, Harry's eyes were still open, though they were inching shut. "And red hair. She'll probably have to have red hair. Your grandmum had red hair and so does your Mum. I think it's a Potter thing; an attraction to redheads. Maybe you should find a girl like your Mum- great with a wand, fiery temper, loads of stubbornness. And of course, make sure whoever you decide to love, loves you back. I think that dominates hair color and temper and all of that." My godson looked content as he slipped off into slumber, his fist once again in his mouth.

"As long as you have a few close friends like I did, girls will only be a side thing." I smiled softly at the sleeping form next to me.

"That's about it. You can make your own rules; every relationship is different. I know you'll have the best ones," I told my godson sleepily. "Love you, Prongslet." I felt my own eyes shut and swear I heard Harry mumble something back before my body tilted over so it was next to him. I felt something wet on my face before everything went peacefully dark.

And that was exactly as Lily and James found us an hour later. We were both sleeping peacefully, Harry having rolled over on my chest in his sleep.

Apparently, his drooly hand was on my face and both our mouths were slack jawed. I woke up by myself, feeling Harry's lack of warmth and was no longer in a happy dream. Lily was carrying a still fast asleep Harry into his crib. There was drool on his face and hand. James was grinning down at me, his hair messy and his eyes lit with joy. Lily came back into the room, a similar expression on her face. They said I was snoring and drool was coming out of my mouth, but I knew that was not true.

Harry and I are sophisticated, well educated, and handsome. One day, Harry will become a heartbreaker, just like I was. I told them so smugly.

James smirked, crossing his arms and pointing at some spots on my face. I touched my cheek, the bottom and sides of my mouth.

Drool.

I told you; me and my godson make two quite charming catches.