A/N – (I do not own Harry Potter or the characters in anyway. All credit goes to J. K. Rowling and her brilliant mind.)

On this Day

Narrator's P.O.V. (Third Person)

Harry woke up with a start. His heart was pounding in his chest and he was covered in cold sweat. He fumbled around in desperation to find his glasses which were placed on the bedside table.

"Harry?" Ginny's voice was thick with sleep. "What's the matter?"

Harry shook his head, placing a soft kiss on her hair. "Nothing, love, just go back to sleep."

She smiled faintly as he stroked her hair, soothing her back into a slumber.

"Love you," she whispered before drifting off.

"Love you too."

His wife's breathing soon became deeper again and he silently made his way out of bed and into the kitchen. The ticking of the clock was what welcomed his early morning appearance, and Harry cherished the near silence, putting the kettle on to boil.

His thoughts were in chaos. Never before had a dream been so livid. Even when Voldemort was alive, his dreams had never been as real as this.

Harry jumped as the kettle's switch flicked up to signal that it had finished boiling. He sighed, ruffling his hair with his hands before walking over to the country counter and pouring himself a cup of tea. Without looking back, he let himself lean back onto the counter, his mug in his cold hands. His eyes scanned the calendar across the room from him.

Monday 31st October.

The mug he was holding fell from his hands, smashing into a thousand tiny shards as realisation dawned on him.

His dream hadn't been fiction, merely a flashback of what happened so many years ago.

The voices of his Mother and Father seemed to ring in his ears as he closed his eyes.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!"

Harry gulped, his body shaking as he visualised he father trying in vain to hold up Voldemort's fatal attack on his family.

The green light shone brightly, and like a puppet cut loose from his strings, his father fell to the floor lifelessly.

He could hear his mother's screams of terror as she tried in vain to barricade herself in the nursery, him in her arms, as her red hair fell over shoulder in panic as she swung the door closed.

And Harry could hear the footsteps of Voldemort steadily grow louder up the creaking floorboards of the stairs. He could remember the harsh breathing of his mother, and he could smell her as he clutched onto her t-shirt in desperation.

Even when he was barely a year old then, he could remember it in startlingly precise images; his mother's panic, and the pretty green lights he knew now were the killing curse used to kill both his mother and father.

The door that his mother had barricaded so forcefully swung open without effort, and his mother squeaked back another scream, throwing Harry quite literally, into the cot below.

The bars were stood in front of him as he peered through them, looking desperately up at his mother, mewing a little to tell her he wanted to be picked up.

His Mother's hysterical voice sounded throughout the small baby's room.

"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!" Her arms were wide stretched both side of her, and Harry could just make out the shape of the hooded figure that intruded upon them.

"Stand aside, you silly girl... stand aside, now." Voldemort's high pitched voice made Harry turn cold.

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead -"

"This is my last warning -"

"Not Harry! Please ... have mercy ... have mercy ... Not Harry! Not Harry! Please - I'll do anything ..."

"Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!"

But his Mother did not stand down, and neither did she pick him up again. For the green light flashed again, and his Mother, quite like his Father, fell stiffly to the floor. Harry had now realised that it wasn't his Father creating the pretty lights, but a man of whom he didn't recognise.

The stick he held which was like his father's, did not produce puffs of smoke in which Harry could try and catch, but another green light in which Harry burned.

The small baby's forehead burned in agony and yet he did not know why. He let out small cries of fear, but his Mother who was still lying still on the floor, did not stir.

Footsteps broke Harry from his daydream like state and Ginny appeared at the door way of the kitchen.

Tears streamed down Harry's cheeks, and Ginny's heart broke as she looked at her Husband.

"Ginny, I-

But Harry's voice broke, and Ginny needed to hear no more before enveloping her husband into her comforting arms.

"Baby," she whispered.

Harry wrapped his arms around her, taking in the colour and smell of her hair. Tears continued to cascade down his cheeks and Ginny pulled back to wipe them away.

"What's wrong?"

Harry nodded his head over to where the calendar hung off the wall, listening finally to Ginny's sudden intake of breath.

"Oh."

"It was so real, Ginny. And I remember it all."

"Oh, Harry."

Harry smiled, albeit sadly, as Ginny cupped his face in her warm hands.

"I didn't know. I'm so sorry, I forgot."

He shook his head. "No, no, Ginny," Harry whispered, stroking her cheek with his thumb, "You didn't need to remember."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Harry shook his head, sighing. "I don't think I can."

"I understand."

Taking Harry's hand, Ginny began to walk him back to their bedroom.

"Wait," he stuttered suddenly. "Come with me."

"Harry, I don't understand..."

"Come with me."

"Where?"

"Godric's Hollow."

"Harry, I don't think it's right for you. I mean, with the state you're in-

"It's where he murdered them, Ginny."

He watched as his wife's face drained of colour. She nodded slowly, her red hair falling out of her loose bun.

"Now?"

Harry pondered his choices, looking from her and out the window into the clear night sky.

"Yes."

Ginny smiled softly at him. "I'll go and change."

Harry smiled back, grabbing her hand before she could go any further.

"Thank you, Ginny. Really, thank you."

"You're my Husband, Harry. I'm here for you, always."

~ XoXo ~

Harry's hand was in Ginny's as they walked slowly around Godric Hollow's graveyard. The tombstones varied in stone and age, but there was only one he was interested in.

"There." Ginny stopped suddenly, looking over to where he Husband was pointing.

"You okay?"

He nodded in response, knowing that even Ginny wouldn't fall for the lie.

"Do you want to be alone?"

There was a long pause before Harry could answer. A lump formed in his throat and he could feel the tears welling up again.

"Just one moment."

Their hands parted and no more words were spoken.

Ginny looked desperately on as her husband left her side to kneel at his Mother and Father's grave. The wind picked up, and the autumn leaves flew around her in a whirlpool of colour.

Pressure was placed on her shoulder, and she bit her tongue in determination not to scream.

A young figure stood next to her and she spoke quietly and softly into Ginny's ear.

"Remind him he's never alone."

A tear rolled down Ginny's cheek as she looked into the face of Lily Potter.

"I will."

The ghostly woman smiled, looking on at her son.

"Thank you, for everything."

A smile rested upon Ginny's lips as she watched her Husband place a wreath in front of the grave.

"You're-

But the woman had gone, and she was alone again.

A/N – A little Halloween treat for you!

Review are appreciated. Katie1995 :)

(R.I.P Lily and James Potter.)