This is me trying my hand at a post-war oneshot collection for Harry Potter.

While I dearly love the series, and would love to have the same talent JKR has for writing, I do not own any of the characters in this fanfiction.

Please review! It helps me become a better author.

Thanks.

Forty Years Later

Harry sat in his comfy chair by the fire in his house in Upper England, drinking tea with Ginny, and watching his grandson play on the rug. As he drank, he thought. He had had a pretty successful career in the Ministry, working with his team of Aurors, driving out whatever was left of the Dark wizards and witches and putting them in Azkaban.

For the past few years, there had been peace in the world. He and his family-Ginny, James, Albus, and Lily had lived happily. All three of his children had graduated from Hogwarts as Gryffindors, and two out of three had been made prefects. They would never hesitate to visit Ron, Hermione, Rose, and Hugo as well as the rest of the Weasleys.

For a while, Harry had kept his family, but more importantly, he loved them with all his heart and soul, because, as he had learned, love was the most powerful magic of all.

He never revealed to his children the real name of Voldemort, or the true tale of the defeat of the Darkest Wizard in history, trying to protect them from the horrors of the past.

Harry tried to keep all those who had died in the two Wizarding Wars... Lily and James... Cedric... Sirius... Dumbledore... Dobby...Fred...Snape... Remus and Dora... It was to painful to remember the people who had cared for The Boy Who Lived, to painful to remember the fact that they had given their lives for Harry and to defeat Lord Voldemort.

Sometimes, he still had nightmares of their deaths.

"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry! Not Harry, please, kill me instead!"

"Harry, take my body back, will you? Take my body back to my father."

"Come on, you can do better than that!"

"Severus...please."

"Dobby is happy to be with his friend, Harry Potter."

"You actually are joking, Perce, I don't think I've heard you joke since you were-"

"Look...at...me."

He kept his children happy, trying to give them the childhood that he had never had.

Harry smiled, his green eyes still as startling, bright, and exactly as almond shaped as Lily Evans' and his second child. Time had flown by. It had only seemed like yesterday that he held baby James in St. Mungo's, put Albus onto the Hogwarts train for his first year, and bought Lily her wand and other school supplies in Diagon Alley. All of it had passed so quickly that he wondered if he had used a Time-Turner. Now, he watched James' and his wife, Amanda's first son play with his toy broomstick. They hadn't changed much from when he had gotten his first broomstick 39 years ago from his godfather.

Harry watched his little grandson play and eat the candies. But then he saw something in front of his very eyes that made his blood run cold and his scar tingle slightly, something it hadn't done in 40 years.

His one year old grandson crushed his Chocolate Frog in a bout of unexpected anger. The card, which was of Albus Dumbledore, glanced up at Harry and gave a small, sad smile, still the energetic man Harry had once known, but then just diving right out of sight as pieces of chocolate came flying his way. The boy, named Tom, looked up at his grandfather, and Harry was slightly surprised to see the cold intelligence in the young child's gray eyes, as well as a hint of scarlet.

Harry saw this, and, knowing that all good things must come to an end, knew that the entire Wizarding World would darken for generations to come again.