Author's Notes:
This is is set in an AU where Albus Potter is an only child and Ginny passes away, but is otherwise canon compliant.
The story is very loosely based off the song "How I Became the Sea" by Owl City. Please leave me reviews and let me know what you think!
How I Became The Sea
Chapter One: The River
His first love, like a river, was always gushing down the path and pushing him forward, down the mountains. She cradled him in a steady body, holding him as he struggled after the war, through the funerals, through raising Teddy. Ginny was a river and she lead him along with a gentle current, guiding him down toward the ocean.
When he woke that morning, he reached over to tangle his hands in her red hair, to wrap his arms around her and draw her close, but his fingers grazed the cold and recoiled, reminding him that she was gone. He forced himself to exhale slowly, pulling the duvet tighter around himself. Wrenching his eyes open, he stared across the empty expanse of bed and out the window, squinting into the morning sun. Harry tucked an arm under his head and sighed, his eyelids falling shut again.
It had been a year. He could almost hear her chiding him to get up, that the kids would wake soon. That he would be late for work. He tried to push the image of her lying amidst the white silk, arms folded, a gentle smile on her face as they lowered her into the ground, dressed in her favourite white–
"Daddy?" a small, hesitant voice called. He pried his eyes open and stared into green eyes, exactly like his. Albus climbed into the bed, wrapping his arms tightly around his stuffed rabbit and looking on quietly. Harry's eyes softened and he lifted an arm for him to crawl up to the pillow, chubby hands gripping the fur. Al tucked his head under Harry's chin, curling up beside him.
Al always saved him at times like this.
Harry kissed his hair and Al pushed away gently, wrinkling his nose. Harry laughed and pulled him in close again. "What's up, Al?" he asked his son, who was watching him with his huge, curious stare. He reached over him groped for his glasses on the bedside table, shoving them on as the clock on the wall came into focus. He picked up the photograph of his wife on the bedside table, grinning at him with Albus in her arms. He placed it back, gently, ignoring the clenching in his chest when Al spoke again.
"Why are you sad?" he asked, one hand resting against Harry's cheek. Harry covered it with his own and rested his hand over his heart, still watching Ginny twirl on their balcony, swinging the baby in her arms. Al laughed and Harry turned a questioning gaze on him.
"It feels funny," his face broke into a wide smile. Harry returned it weakly, kissing Al's forehead again– sometimes, he would marvel at him, the way he would have looked growing up without a scar. He remembered when he showed Ginny the cupboard in Privet Drive, the yellow mattress lying on the floor with the spiders and old figurines. He sighed and Al curled back into his warmth.
"I miss your mum," Harry said softly. Al shifted slightly, bringing his knees closer.
"Me too," he said. Harry wrapped his arms a little tighter, trying to soothe the trembling form. Sometimes, he wondered what it was like to lose your mother– Lily had died when Harry was a baby, how could he have known her? He hugged his son, rubbing his back gently.
Harry looked back over his shoulder, across the sheets. "I love you," he whispered to her. A rush of warmth came over him, and he knew she was there. Sometimes, he could feel her touch him, a hand on his cheek or her lips on his forehead. She wouldn't leave him behind. She never would.
Al's breathing slowed as he drifted back into sleep. Harry slid out of bed– he needed a coffee.
"Marry me," he said. She laughed, flicking a cornflake at him.
"Why should I, Potter?" she said, eyes glittering. She leaned forward, her hair falling over her shoulders and cocking her head to the side curiously. Harry rolled his eyes and took her hand.
He cleared his throat importantly and Ginny rolled her eyes. "Because you love me, because your mother thinks we're already married, because I want to spend forever with y–"
"Okay, okay!" she held her hands up in surrender. Harry grinned and she broke into a smile as well, taking his hand in hers.
Albus joined him in the kitchen at noon, rubbing his eyes and dragging his rabbit on the floor. Harry set a plate of pancakes in front of him and rolled his eyes as his son stabbed one viciously.
"Poor pancake," he called over his shoulder, seeing him perk up at the sight of food– he had been spending too much time at Hermione's. Al glared back reproachfully, sticking out his tongue. Harry returned the gesture, grabbing his coffee and dropping into the seat opposite him. He leaned across the table and ruffled his hair. "What do you want to do today?"
Al stared back at him, cheeks puffed out with food. Harry gave him a pointed look and he ducked his head, swallowing it all and grinning back sheepishly. "You're going to choke on something one day, kiddo," Harry said, shaking his head.
Laughing cheekily, Al stabbed another pancake. Harry grabbed a copy of The Daily Prophet and flipped it open, thumbing through the pages– surprisingly, Seamus had bought the company over and ran it alongside Luna's Quibbler. "Bookshop," Al replied thoughtfully after a pause, watching him read. "I want, um, the Beedle and the Bard book."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "How do you know about that?"
"Rosie and Hugo know lots!" Al beamed at him. "The three brothers, that's my favourite– oops." The pancake fell to the floor, syrup flying as Harry scrambled to stop the falling. He missed and Al winced, backing further into his chair when Harry looked up at him.
"Messiest kid ever," he grumbled.
"Mum said I got that from you," Albus replied swiftly. Harry laughed, taking the empty plates to their sink. Harry was pants at household charms, preferring to do the job by hand.
"Go get changed," he told Al. He slid off his chair, nodding and disappearing up the stairs. Harry finally fixed his gaze on the portrait beside his head, all the while watching him. He ran his fingers along her canvas lips and dropped his hand, resigned. He nodded to himself from within the frame, an arm tight around her shoulders.
"Morning," he told the portrait. She waved, but it wasn't the same.
"I, Ginny–"
Molly coughed and she shot her mother a look. "For Merlin's sake," she muttered under her breath. Harry laughed and squeezed reassuringly. She rolled her eyes.
"I take you, Harry, to be my wedded husband..."
She laughed at that. "Sounds so official," she whispered to him. He tried to suppress the smile that crossed his face.
She smirked back and gripped his hands tightly as she recited their vows, her gaze strong and resolute. She paused again halfway, sticking her tongue out and breaking into a grin, taking a deep breath.
"To love and to cherish, till death do us part," she finished with a flourish. Harry raised an eyebrow.
"Wouldn't want you moping around," she said callously. "Boy-Who-Just-Won't-Die and all that."
Harry smacked her gently and she grinned widely. He rolled his eyes as her face softened. "I love you," she said softly, resting a hand on his face.
"Love you too," he told her, leaning in to steal a kiss.
They pushed through into the shop quickly, eager to get out of the snow. Harry held Albus tightly in his arms, glancing warily around the surprisingly empty aisles. He slipped them into the shadow and pulled the invisibility cloak off, shoving it into his bag and setting Al down. "You okay?" he asked quietly, dropping to his knees.
Al nodded, pressing a kiss to Harry's cheek. They hardly travelled without the cloak– not since Ginny died. The press had shown a perverted interest in her death, chasing them around for interviews, for the tearful reaction.
He felt slightly ill just thinking about it, flattening his hair down to cover his scar.
"Daddy?" Al's voice was soft, looking over his shoulder. "Can we go?"
He gazed at Al and nodded, watching him running down toward a colourful display nearby and looking back with his innocent eyes. He took off after him quickly, taking his hand. Small, soft and sure, Al lead him forward down into the shop and Harry forced himself to step forward, shaking Ginny from his mind.
Al stopped abruptly, peering curiously at a purple book sitting on the shelf, looking oddly out of place amongst the heavier, darker tomes around it. He pulled it out with some difficulty, juggling it with his rabbit, finally sliding down to the ground and leaning against the wall of books.
"What about your storybook, Al?"
"Later," he responded, brushing him off. "I like this better."
Harry snickered, sitting beside him and taking the bunny from him. Advanced Potion Making sat open in Al's lap, the pages fresh and unmarked– Merlin knows where he had picked up an interest in potions, they'd hardly had any of the books around the house. He flipped through the pages, tracing the pictures and skimming over the ingredients– Harry wasn't sure he understood it all, but it didn't matter.
He stared off at the display of Quidditch books across them, sighing. Al had always stolen Ginny's to read, laughing and clapping his hands when the animated players zoomed across the spreads of magazines. When she died, Harry found them in his bed, scattered under his pillow. Sometimes, he curled up with him and read them aloud until he finally fell asleep.
"Can I help you?" someone drawled from around the corner. Harry's head snapped up, instinctively going for his wand and pulling Albus in close. Not again. It wouldn't happen again.
He tightened his grip on his wand when the footsteps approached, poking a head around the shelf. Harry faltered in surprise and Al shifted closer to him, stealing the rabbit back. Malfoy rounded the corner, pushing his glasses up his nose.
"Oh, it's you," Malfoy smirked, crossing his arms. "I didn't know you read much."
"Shove off," he replied, rolling his eyes. "Don't you have anyone else to attend to?"
"It's snowing," the drawl was still familiar, Harry noted. "Not all of us are mad like you are, braving the cold and everything." He looked tired, but his robes were neatly pressed. He didn't slick his hair back anymore, the grey gaze sharp through his glasses. "I see you've brought your son," he added as an afterthought, surveying him. Al gripped his shirt and Harry looked down at him, rubbing his back,
"It's okay, Al," he soothed. "No one's going to hurt you."
"Yes," Draco nodded, schooling his features into innocence and tucking his hands in his pockets. "God forbid I lay a finger on the great Harry Potter."
"Malfoy," he said, shooting him a withering look. "Not helping."
"All right, all right," Malfoy sighed. The blond rolled his eyes and walked over, crouching down in front of Al and extending a hand. Harry tightened his arm when Al backed further still into his side, looking up at him with slight panic in his eyes.
"I'm Draco," Malfoy said, surprisingly gentle. "You must be Albus."
Harry felt Al relax slightly, his gaze darting between him and Malfoy. "Yes," he replied tentatively. "Albus Severus."
Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Severus?" he asked Harry, impressed. Harry flushed slightly and tucked his wand away as he answered. "He deserved it," he mumbled.
"Brave man," Malfoy mused, ruffling Albus' hair and glancing down at the book in his lap. Al grumbled and pushed his hand away, smoothing it back down.
"Advanced Potion Making," Harry supplied helpfully.
"Potions?" Malfoy asked, scandalised. "Good lord, Potter!"
"Oh, shut up," Harry rolled his eyes. "My mother was good at potions, too..."
His heart clenched painfully as Malfoy scanned the page. "What are you reading about?" he asked, turning his head to see the instructions better.
"Felix Felicis," Al said slowly, grinning proudly to himself. Malfoy nodded approvingly and sat in front of him, pointing to things and explaining them. Al sat up straighter, leaning forward. Harry closed his eyes and rested his head against the bookshelf, listening to the sound of their voices.
"...and your father cheated in one of the Quidditch matches," Malfoy told Al, shaking his head. Al gasped and gave Harry a hurt look.
Harry shot up, holding his hands up in the air. "I did not!" he replied adamantly.
"You swallowed the snitch, Potter!" Draco huffed.
"It was delicious," Harry told Al, rolling his eyes. "You probably cheated more than I did, Malfoy."
"Oh, really?"
"You and your bloody Dementor outfits," Harry glared.
"Oh, Princess Potter and his fainting spells," Draco retorted, crossing his arms.
" 'It's killed me!'" Harry mocked, clutching his arm. "For Merlin's sake, Malfoy, it was a scratch."
"It hurt, Potter!" Draco said defensively. Harry snickered. "Sure it did." Albus laughed and both turned to look at him. He quieted and wrapped his arms around his stuffed toy again.
"You're funny," he announced to Malfoy.
"Of course I'm funny," Malfoy replied.
"You're probably much funnier in your head," Harry told him, nodding sympathetically. Draco shot him a withering look and Harry shrugged.
Albus climbed into Harry's lap and grinned at Malfoy again. "You are!"
Malfoy shot Harry a triumphant grin. Albus continued, "You must be, because Daddy doesn't laugh much."
Harry's heart stopped, eyes fixed on his son. Malfoy turned to give him a questioning look and Harry sat back uneasily, slightly shocked. "Albus–"
"Mum used to make him laugh too," Al said, ignoring him. "But she's dead."
Malfoy's lips pressed into a hard line at that. "Really," he said after a pause. "I'm sorry to hear that." Al hid his face behind the rabbit.
"It's okay," he said, muffled. "I have dad."
Malfoy looked up at him. "Yeah, you do," he replied thoughtfully.