"Dad, what if I'm in Slytherin?" Harry's youngest son asked, worried.
Harry knelt down to his son's level and looked him in the eyes seriously.
"Arthur Rubeus Potter. You were named after the two kindest fatherly figures I have ever known. Of course, you'll be in Gryffindor! K thanx bye!" Harry then proceeded to shove Arthur onto the Hogwarts express.
"They'll be fine, won't they?" Ginny asked as they both waved at their children.
"Duh, not like he's going to get sorted into Slytherin, hate me because suddenly I suck at being a father. Then become best friends with Malfoy's kid then travel back in time only to mess up the future like three times because he had a crush on Voldemort's nonexistent daughter. Make me witness my parent's death, and somehow everything works out fine with no consequences," He sighed, "or something like that."
"That was oddly specific Harry, are you okay?" Ginny asked, concerned.
"I just had a bad dream last night. Everything will be fine." Harry shrugged, "My scar hasn't hurt for like twenty years."
All was well.
Maybe.