"He's asleep."

She softly shut the baby-names book and placed a hand on her swollen stomach, as she watched him stumbled over to the bed and collapse in exhaustion. His eyes fluttered shut and a smile slipped on to her lips. She took a hold of his hand and rubbed the back of it gently with her thumb.

"That was quick."

"Yeah, who knew he actually ran out of energy. Maybe we should let him run laps around the table at dinner more often?"

He opened his eyes and adjusted himself so he was sitting up and she could lean on to him. Softly chuckling as he reminisced the event and the Popsicle grin on his son's face, as well as the glistening light in his warm, chocolate eyes— his wife's eyes. Looking over, he stared at the matching ones and ran his fingers through her red hair, before pulling her closer to him.

"Maybe. He even took breaks from flying on his nonexistent broom to eat his veggies, except his green ones. He thinks green is bad. We have to stop letting him hang around Ron. Soon, the only food he'll eat will be the reds and gold- so nothing," she commented with a shake of her head.

"Leave it to Ron to make our son prejudice against every house, but the right one before he's two."

He laughed, as she softly punched his arm.

"Quit it."

He nodded, "Alright. Alright. He'll have his own kid to make prejudice any day now anyway. Speaking of that, how's Hermione doing? You and James went over there today right?"

She shrugged, "She's doing good- miserably pregnant, but good. She was fuming about Ron for Merlin knows what- I think it was losing socks? I was busy with James, who was crying 'cause neither of us could hold him."

"She sounds pregnant. Poor bloke."

"What's that?" She snapped, sending daggers in his direction.

"Nothing."

"She can't bloody help it."

"I know."

"Good." She slid down into the bed, laid the book on the side table, and rolled so her back was facing him. "Prat."

He lay down on his back and alternated his gaze between the ceiling and her, knowing to wait for her to speak. It was a lesson he learned during her pregnancy with James; her temper was deadly accompanied with hormones. Instead, he allowed his mind to ponder the conversation from before. A wave of guilt crashed over him. However, unlike the times from before, he could not swim to the surface, but remained suffocating similar to the Second Task of the Tournament. This time he didn't know a spell to help me out.

Scrunching his eyes shut, he concentrated on now. All of that was behind him allowing him the chance to have the growing family he had. Taking deep breaths, he let the voice of his wife calm him.

"So, I've been looking for names."

From the shift of weight on the mattress he knew she had turned to face him, and turning himself, he stared at her. However, he could not pry the image of dark, beady eyes slowly loosing light- life. He could only weakly smile, "Yeah? And?"

A flash of worry sparkled in her eyes, but she didn't press the issue. She never did. Instead, she reached over and got the book, before opening it and retrieving a piece of parchment.

"Well, since we decided to use the girl name we picked out when I was pregnant with James; I've been looking up boy names, in case we get another one."

He nodded as a tear formed in the corner of the dying eyes. It took everything he had in him to keep from burying his head into a pillow to try and rid himself of the memory, but he knew if he did, she would be obligated to pry into his mind.

"Really? Which ones?"

The sound of his voice made him cringe. Every word was coated in a quivering voice full of nothing but regret and guilt. He had no control over his mind-but did he ever have it?

"I was thinking Aidan. It means little fire, which I thought was suitable for a child. But I want his middle name to be Arthur, after my dad. So, I don't think-"

A pair of twinkling blue eyes appeared, as though a movie reeled in his mind. Some memories, he couldn't escape.

"You've kept him alive so that he can die at the proper moment. You've been raising him like a pig for slaughter!"

"Don't tell me now that you've grown to care for the boy."

The blue eyes faded once more only for the beady ones to obtain a long, pale face with greasy black hair and a bleeding body laying broken on the floor of the Shrieking Shack.

"After all this time?"

"Always."

"Harry?"

Returning to the present, he blinked a couple times before humming, "What?"

"What do you think?"

He paused for a moment, then spoke, "I… I like it. Aidan, right?"

He could see aggravation on her face, as she sighed, "That was three names ago. You aren't listening, are you?"

"I'm sorry. I have a headache, that's all."

"A headache?" She narrowed her eyes.

He nodded.

He jumped when she placed a hand on his face and forced eye contact, which he couldn't break.

"Be honest with me… What's on your mind?"

The memory evaporated and was replaced with an image of his wife holding the new baby in her arms— a blue blanket wrapped around its petite frame. Suddenly, he knew what he needed.

"Severus…"

"What?"

"Albus… Severus… the baby. If it's a boy- it'd only be right to honor both of them…"

He could see the disgust in her eyes, as she slowly shook her head.

"No… we can't… Harry… Albus, that's fine, but-but Severus? It's-"

"-perfect." A grin slid on to his face- everything felt in place and the guilt began to drain from his body.

Knowing he still hadn't won her over, she brushed a piece of hair behind her ear and whispered, "The whole time I was at Hogwarts, I hated the man, but he worked with Dumbledore to protect- save- me. Ginny, he knew he was going to die for me from the moment I arrived to school, before I knew anything. And I guarantee that in the afterlife, he is second to my father- always loving my mother. He was misunderstood and someone needs to give him the credit he deserves." He took a hold of her hands and pleaded, "Please. He was the bravest man I've ever known."

Biting her lip, she said, "Let me sleep on it."

Nodding, he reached over and turned off the bed-side light, then pulled his wife close to him. He understood that it was a lot to digest, especially since she never saw the memories that he did, but just the thought that it could happen let his mind finally rest.

Author's Note: I hoped you enjoyed. I really wanted to show that Harry did not ever fully get over Severus's death and what actually happened with the man. For Severus never got the credit from other people that he deserved, so this is my take on why Albus was Albus Severus. I love hearing back from people, so drop a review or flame!

-Kaitlyn