The wind blew lightly as a little family walked towards the graveyard, huddled in winter cloaks. The mother had a baby, wrapped snug in blue blankets, in her arms. The father had a young toddler in his arms, about two years of age, smiling cutely. The woman, with pretty fiery red hair, was talking in a soft voice to her husband, who was only nodding in return. At last, they reached they reached the graveyard's gate.
Passing the kissing gate, and a number of graves, their paces became slower. The baby in the woman's arms cooed softly.
Harry smiled at his son, Al, who was just five months old.
"Are dey here, Daddy?" asked James.
"Yes, James, they're here," Harry replied.
"Let's go on," said Ginny, snuggling baby Albus in her arms.
They finally reached the graves. Harry, crouching down and holding a toddling James steady, wiped off the layer of snow which had accumulated on the gravestone.
"Say hello to your Grandparents, James," said Ginny.
"Hi Gwandma, Hi Gwandpa. Happy Chwismas! I send gifts to you. Like it? I, Al, Daddy and Mummy miss you," babbled James.
Harry simply stared at their graves, having nothing left to say. He visited their graves each year.
He raised his wand, conjuring a bunch of flowers. He gently put them at the graves, Ginny grabbing his shoulder, giving it a squeeze.
Little Albus suddenly babbled, clapping his hands, delighted. Harry let out a small laugh, mixing with his ragged breathing. Ginny handed Albus to Harry, conjuring another bunch of flowers, placing it on the graves.
Albus cooed again, contentedly snuggling in his father's arms.
The little family walked away, Ginny's head resting in the crook of Harry's shoulder. James was now in his mother's arms, Albus now fast asleep in his father's arms.
This was a perfect 24th December, 2006.
A/N: I know this was short, I'm not into writing long Fics. Please let me know if you think James' pronunciation is incorrect for an almost two-year old.
P.S: Aren't you just loving baby Albus?