"Daddy, what's that on your hand?" His daughter Lily asked. She had been sitting on his lap, examining his hand in the way little children do. Harry glanced down, and flinched.
I must not tell lies was still written in thin white lines across the back of his hand.
"Nothing to worry about, Lily-flower." He replied to the girl, who was still too young to read it herself. "Some bad things happened a long time ago, but they aren't important now." Lily frowned.
"Areā¦are they the same things that make you sad sometimes?" She asked, with all the perceptiveness of a young child. Harry tried to laugh it off.
"Sad? I'm not sad Lily-flower, why would I be? I have three adorable children, a great job, and a wonderful wife." He tried to distract her, lifting her with his hands in her armpits, and standing up, holding her above his head. "Look at all the things I'm happy about!" He brought her down again, and held her in his arms. She was still just small enough to manage this with only a little discomfort.
Lily giggled obediently, but abruptly turned serious again.
"I love you, daddy." She said, looking into his green eyes with her own hazel ones. His dad's eyes. She held her gaze for a minute, reaching out to trace the lightning bolt on his forehead. Then she grabbed his nose.
"Argh, Lily!" Harry yelled, pretending to drop his daughter. She shrieked with laughter, and hung on tight. "Love you too, Lily-flower." He whispered in her ear, but he was looking past his daughter to the fireplace and the mantelpiece bearing many photographs, but his eyes were focused on one. It contained a man with dark, mussed up hair, and a woman with reddish brown hair, and bright green eyes. They were smiling widely and kept looking down adoringly at the baby the woman held in her arms.
