Lily smiled, walking passed her father's office. In a simple frame, unlike the rest that were hung, a partially completed coursework assignment proudly stood at the epicenter. Her fingers ghosted across the dark wooden frame, very pleased that her penmanship has significantly improved since third year.
Lily had been assigned some History of Magic questions over Holiday break. She had been perturbed by some of the ridiculous questions from her assignment. Was it entirely necessary to ask her questions about her father? Perhaps not, but she had had an epiphany that day, inspiring her to pen a letter that her father still held in high regards today.
Thirteen year old Lily Luna stared at her parchment, scoffing at the history of magic questions staring back at her.
Question 114. Describe the significant role the "Chosen One" contributed to the defeat of Dark Lord Voldemort during the second wizarding war?
Question 115. Who is the Chosen One? Please describe.
Was her professor trying to mock her? Why would they ask, her, Harry Potter's daughter, something like this? Perhaps they wanted to test her knowledge on the subject. She shrugged, easy homework points.
But her quill stayed unused in her inkpot.
Harry Potter. How would she describe her father?
Harry Potter was the boy who lived. The world's savior. A young man, whom with his friends, Hermonie Granger, Ronald Weasley and members of the Order of the Phoenix in combined efforts overthrew a…
No… she scribbled that out.
Harry Potter is the youngest Auror to grace the English Ministry for Magic.
No… she scribbled that out as well.
The answers seemed too, impersonal. This was her papa! He was more than the public defined him.
Harry Potter is cheeky, or at least that is what mother says he is. Harry Potter is happy to be a spectator, to be Mr. Ginny Potter, husband of former Holy Head Harpie's seeker. Harry Potter is an avid supporter of competitive dueling tournaments, which are character building and informative. (Most the time boring). Harry Potter is a fierce protector of his friends, Hermione and Ronald, but more importantly he is my father. He is my hero. He is everyone's hero. His name is the one witch's and wizard's whisper to their children at night, Harry Potter will keep them safe.
She put her quill down, a new train of thought capturing her attention. There was something that the public didn't know about. Something the wizarding world didn't speak about. A secret that her father kept from most; Harry Potter was still haunted from the war.
Harry Potter will continue to save the day, but… should anything happen, who will save him?
She could remember that day in Diagon Alley that went too far, she had been 5 years old then.
"Do not touch my child." Her father said through his gritted teeth. His green eyes narrowed, and his hand wound tightly in his pocket. Somebody had tried to grab James's arm. Her mother was quick to pull Albus and her away from everyone else. For weeks after her father's calm, but demanding words contradicted the flash of anger on his face which was strewn through the newspapers. Harry hid his rage beneath his stare.
She could remember the night after Amos Diggory had stopped at their home, she had been 12 years old then. A man screamed all through the night, as if in terrible pain. "How many must die for the boy who lived?" She could hear her mother's panicked voice several times. She held her stuffed dragon tight until daylight.
But the next day, her worries had been for not. "No, Lily. No one was screaming last night." Despite her mother's discouraging, her frown told Lily all that she needed. Her father suffered from night terrors.
In that same year she could remember the day her father and Albus's rowing came to head. He told Albus that he didn't want him as a son. She couldn't see their faces, only hear gasps struck with revelation. She didn't know who had regretted that moment more.
"Your father loves Albus." Hermonie stroked her hair, holding Lily close. She sniffled, trying to blink away the tears.
"But he said some right awful things to him." She nodded, aunt Mione understood.
"He didn't mean it. He sees more of himself in Albus than he cares to admit." But it wasn't something Albus chose. He didn't choose to be an outsider, he was just different! He couldn't help it. "Shh…. Lily. Your father understands more than anything how it feels to be misunderstood." Harry was haunted by his childhood.
Even months after, she still recognized the tremor in her father's hands when people mention Delphini Riddle in her father's presence.
Her mother's coworker had added, "I'm actually interested in the Delphi Riddle interview, she seems-"
"Bloody hell." Harry interrupted.
"Harry, are you, all right?" Her father's hands shook as he put down what was left of his cuppa. His robes were seeping with the hot liquid. With a swish of her mother's wand, the front of his robes was clear from the mess. He smiled sheepishly.
"A bit of klutz today. Excuse me." Harry felt guilty for convicting an orphan girl who had desperately wanted to meet her parents.
Lily decided, she would protect him. He would never have to face his demons alone. She summoned another piece of parchment and flew into a fervor of scribbling.
"Papa?" Lily shyly asked, waiting by the door of his study. Harry paused, smiling when he saw his daughter had wanted attention. He gestured for her to come in. Lily noted that his bright green eyes were tired. She smiled sheepishly when he ran a hand through his messy hair.
"What is it, my Lily flower?" Harry watched his daughter bit her lip and place some parchment in his hand. He chuckled, at her timid behavior, she had written him something. "You want me to read this?" Lily nodded her head. "Is it some course work?" She shook vigorously no, then yes. He chuckled again.
The parchment had several scribbled out answers, finally revealing a letter below.
Harry Potter is the world's hero. He is my hero.
He is my world.
He is home every night, after making sure everyone else is safe.
He has the greatest laugh.
He loves us very much.
But, he lies.
He lies about being scared for us.
He lies about his past.
He says stuff sometimes that he doesn't mean.
He isn't perfect, but that doesn't matter.
He is loved, loved more than he sometimes imagines. The world owes him a debt that they can't repay. And if he gets scared at night, just wake my mum up. She will protect you, no one messes with her. And if anyone messes with her, Teddy, James, Albus, and me will hex their bollocks off. We promise that.
We love you, papa.
Harry massaged his temple, while also trying to blink tears from his eyes. It had been a year since Delphi Riddle's conviction, and he hadn't realized he showed signs of how much it bothered him.
It was hard to discern his now teenage daughter from the image of his baby girl. Sometimes he forgot how much his children reflected Ginny and him. Teddy had been spoiled naturally. It had been hard to tell a boy no when he could physically make his eyes larger, and his pouty lips sadder. James, on the other hand was spunky and hard headed. Albus was more reserved and insecure of his place. And his baby – she looked so much like her mother – full of heart and keen perception, she was growing too quick.
"Lily?" He whispered.
"Yes," she answered apprehensively. He held his arms open, she practically slammed into his embrace, nearly knocking him from his chair. They both laughed at her excitement.
"Thank you."
An arm slugged over her shoulder, "My favorite gift of them all." Harry admitted with a knowing smile. She nudged him playfully, looking away from the picture frame.
"Really? So I can return those dragon hide quidditch gloves you wanted for your monthly pickup games?"
"Well, now Lily let's not be too hasty. I faintly remember needing to replace the pair that had mysteriously gone missing before our last family game…" He teased, well aware his children had robbed him of his worn out gloves in hopes to give him new ones.
"You're just so hard to shop for."
"True, very true." He touched the frame this time, still remembering the day Lily had handed him it. "This is still my favorite." She laid her head on his shoulder.
"Happy Christmas papa."
"Happy Christmas Lily."