Watching him grow up and become someone that contradicted the curious five year old he had once been had been one of the hardest experiences of his life. Harry had helped pull this small, beautiful child into the world. He had stood by the bedside of his wife in the small hospital, holding the bundle in blankets, and this had been the proudest moment of his life. He had looked down into a pair of bright hazel eyes he knew so well and a grin had cracked at his chapped lips, pulling them apart into a wide smile that had stayed on his face for what felt like years; he had smoothed his fingers through tufts of messy, jet black hair and he had let a small, content sigh escape his lips. His son, this beautiful child he would dedicate his life to, was one of the most amazing things he had ever seen, even having fought creatures most adults would run from as a child. But, he had also be absolutely terrified - he was bringing a child into the world, something he had never dreamed of doing before, and yet he didn't know how to do it; should he hold the baby like this, or like that, or should he just not hold it at all and leave it to Ginny? He had watched his wife hold the child and had made his own unconscious decision; he would love this baby for the rest of his life.
He had been there when he had said his first word: Dada. It had been the only thing besides the birth of his son that could make him cry. For the first time in three years, he had thrown the child into the air and cried. To most it seemed impossible that the saviour of the wizarding world could break down like this, but those who knew him knew that it was very possible; after the war, he had blamed himself for the deaths of many and had kept to himself, only speaking when he was needed to, or to tell people to leave him alone. But his friends Ron and Hermione, with the help of his wife Ginny, had pulled him through it. He had only accepted being a normal person who was definitely not responsible for the deaths of so many people when he had stood at the alter, looking into a pair of big brown eyes, and he had known he deserved this, he deserved a wonderful woman like her, and he knew he deserved a child of his own to care for. And this is just what he had done.
James was well past three years old when the next one came along. Despite the Weasley genes that kept babies coming for others, he and his wife had managed to keep the birthdays well apart so that each of them could form a bond with the child and let them know just how much they cared for them. James had been the light of their life for three years now, and the fact that another bright light that could wrap them around their little fingers excited him to no end; he had picked his wife up and kissed her, despite James' wails of disbelief. He had grinned for days straight, and Hermione, ever the poet she was, had noted that he looked more like the Cheshire cat than Ron did after she had said yes to his proposal.
And then it was time for baby Albus to come along. He had looked down into his son's matching bright emerald eyes and his own had filled with tears; he could remember looking in the mirror for years and wondering if his looked like his mothers, and whether he really did look like his father. It warmed his heart to know that he could give this child someone to look up to, someone to compare himself to, and someone who he could look to if he was ever in trouble; he had had none of that, as the family he had grown up with had abused him, and he had sent those same people a card to celebrate both of his son's births, despite them having thrown it away the moment it arrived and telling him so. He had been so high in the sky, higher than cloud nine, to even care. He had grinned like his lips had been frozen that way.
Albus' first word had easily been his mother's name; he had been a mother's boy since day one. He remembered the small toddler clinging to his mother's leg and asking if he could help with dishes, so unlike his elder brother, who had complained when he had been set on dish duty for hours afterwards and had stormed to his room after smashing three plates in a row. He still smiled thinking of those little boys, so different and yet so alike. They had both inherited the same messy hair he and his own father had inherited themselves, and both had immediately been tall, almost taller than their uncles had been before them by the time they had reached twelve.
But it had only been a good two years after Albus' birth that little Lily had come along. James had been five years old, and he had stood next to his mother while she wailed and screamed and watched in fascination as his little sister had been passed towards him; he had taken her in his arms eagerly, and he remembered making his sons both promise they'd look after her no matter what, when they were old enough to go to Hogwarts. He had watched James and Albus set her in the middle of the living room floor and set the toys out in some sort of obstacle course, and he remembered taking his wife into his arms and summoning a camera to record it as all three of them began waddling across the course, one of the boys' arms under Lily's and holding her upright as her little face scrunched up in concentration and she had walked, really walked, for the first time. He had held his wife while she cried and even let a few tears slip from his own as he watched his three children, his three pride and joys do something he had never seen them do before - they played with each other.
Lily had immediately favoured her elder cousins Roxanne and Rose, and the two of them absolutely adored her. He remembered sitting with her in the joke shop, something that Ginny had banned him from doing so after their sons had both found solace in their pranking ways, and all of a sudden little rose, with her bushy dark red hair, not unlike her mother's but darker than her father's, and bright intelligent brown eyes had come thundering down the stairs, and in her arms had sat a small girl with long and messy curls of thick red hair, emerald eyes wide as her cousin propelled them both down the stairs. He remembered yelling as the little girls had collided with them and scooping them up into his arms to look curiously down at them, when little Rose had exclaimed, "She said Mummy! And then she said Daddy!"
His breath had been stolen away from the little girl in his arms as she reached up to grab at his hair, a smile revealing her bare gums. Her red hair was messier than it had been in a while, but its colour was rich and her hair was thick, and her emerald eyes shone out vividly from behind a curtain of the same dark red hair. She had grinned up at him and he had laughed, and laughed, and laughed, as he was supposed to in the middle of the joke shop. Rose had tugged Roxanne, a girl with tanned skin and dark frizzy hair with laughing brown eyes, down the stairs and both had beamed at him, and he had grinned back, feeling utterly elated: his baby girl had said his name, his name, as her first word. He was utterly gobsmacked, but he had never felt something so special. He had experienced what it felt like to be so proud of someone you could give the world to them at any moment of the day; his daughter was his pride, his life, and to hear her say his name for the first time made him feel so great he couldn't comprehend anything else.
"Harry?" his wife's voice said softly in his ear, and Ginny's arm slipped around his waist to gently tug him closer. There were prideful tears glowing in her eyes, and he found himself smiling back at her. "I - I just can't believe all of our babies aren't coming back for another year; it was bad enough with the boys, but Lily... I thought they'd be our little children forever, just staying their little kids. So beautiful, so... them. Now I feel like I won't ever see them ever again."
The scarlet steam engine gave a puff of smoke. Lily's head, still so fitting on her small frame, poked out of the carriage door, a beam upon her beautiful face. "We love you!" the three of them chorused, her brothers' heads sticking out besides hers. All three of them wove their hands through the gaps between their bodies to wave as the train lurched forward and out of the station. His eyes prickled with tears as he watched his beaming baby girl, his beautiful mischievous sons pull back into the train and begin the next great adventure... their adventure without them. "I love you!" he and Ginny chorused right back, and Lily's eyes glimpsed them as she turned around to beam back at them.
"I know, I know," he murmured as the train disappeared from sight. He pulled her closer and buried his nose into her vibrant red hair, so similar to his baby girl's, and he sighed contentedly. He had always felt at ease when his wife was around, whether it be in the middle of the battlefield of in the middle of the sitting room with the babies on the floor; he had fallen in love with this wonderful woman, had three beautiful children, and he wouldn't take a moment of it back. "But they'll always come home eventually. They'd never stay away from us for too long, you know that; they love us and we love them. They're good kids, and they'll do well. Lily will either try and make us proud by keeping James under the leash or join Al in the library daily or join James in his mischief or do something so Lily-like that we'll be more proud of them than we ever were before."
"It seems like yesterday we were sitting there, on the sofa, and James and Al grabbed Lily, and her little face was so scrunched up in concentration... she walked for the first time. It was the most magical moment of my life, watching my three kids do something together other than argue, something so amazing I have never seen before. I had seen my brothers prank, grow up, and achieve things I had never thought possible. But nothing could ever mean more to me than that moment, in your arms and watching something as amazing as that was. It's alright to worry about them and it's alright to be proud of them and it's alright to remember the memories we hold close... but someday they're not going to be our babies anymore and when that day comes we won't be prepared... but we have to let them go, because they want to fly. We can't keep them in the nest if they want to stretch their wings, Gin."
He allowed a small and contented smile to overtake his face. "And they will fly - they'll fly higher than we ever thought they could. Because they're our kids, and we love them no matter what."
I've been really emotional lately and I needed to let out my emotions through something. Daddy told me, when I moved out and got my own flat near the house, how much he worried about me leaving forever and I needed to tell him somehow that I'd always be his baby girl. It was never really showed how much Harry cliqued with his family, and I felt that if I didn't do it than someone else would, and I needed to do this so much no one else would understand... just know that my love is sent with this, and if you're reading Daddy, I'll always be your baby girl.
Love,
Marlene