Author's Note: short and sweet, which I seem to do a lot of lately. Not very good angst, doesn't provoke much feeling, but I don't hate it. Anyway, read and review, tell me what you think about it. Please.

October 31

Harry Potter sighed as he leaned his forehead up against the cool glass of the owlry window, and watched his breath fog up the glass. He had come up here to escape the ongoing tidal wave of students flowing excitedly into the great hall for the Halloween feast, jabbering on about nonsense that really couldn't matter less to anyone. Nobody else in this castle could appreciate the true meaning, the true evilness, of October 31, and he honestly didn't feel up to trying to explain it to anyone. But on this day, 17 years ago, he had had parents. Had they been seated on the couch, talking about what to eat for dinner that night while James balanced Harry on one knee? Had they been cuddled around the crackling fire, relaxing in its warm glow while Lily read Harry his favorite story? Regardless of what they had been doing, however, the point was that they were doing it. There was still breath in their bodies to enjoy the peacefulness of their home and family, and as far as they were concerned, they had lives. As far as they knew, they still had time to do whatever they wanted; still had time to watch Harry do whatever he wanted.

They had not known, could not have known, when they woke up that morning that it was for the last time. They could not have known that their son would grow up in a world consisting of a cupboard and a couple of spiders, could not ever guess that he would be charged with the weight of the world, while they lay peacefully in their graves, together even in death. He gritted his teeth together in the attempt to keep the tears that wanted so desperately to fall at bay. He was so preoccupied with this monumental task that he did not hear the owlry door creak open, did not hear the quiet footsteps creeping up behind him, did not feel the warm hand placed comfortingly on his shoulder. Until she spoke.

"Your parents are in a better place, Harry," she whispered, her voice licking his ears softly as her words hung in the cool air. Harry grunted.

"Yeah, but that's not the point," he muttered angrily. "The point is that they're not here, and they'll never come back." He glared murderously out of the window, not bothering to look at her.

"That is by far the most selfish sentence I have ever heard dirty your lips," Ginny remarked idly. This remark did not help Harry's glaring problems.

"Here you are, sitting alone in this disgusting breeding ground for germs and bugs, murdering an innocent window with your glare, while your friends sit downstairs, knowing that you are in pain and knowing that you don't want their help. Here you are, muttering unintelligently to the owl droppings about how it's not fair that they're gone, that they left you, when you know they're somewhere a hell of a lot better than this warring world. Harry your parents loved you, and they would not hesitate to come back if they could, but sitting up here rather than downstairs with your friends will not bring them back. Think about it."

She turned on her heel and strode purposefully away from him, clearly not caring to hang around if he was going to brood for hours on end. But slowly, ever slowly, he could feel a smile spread across his lips, could feel his heart break free of the icy manacle that had encompassed it for so long.

"Wait! Ginny, wait!" Harry panted, leaping from his seat by the window and sprinting after her. He barreled through the wooden door, and screeched to a halt, looking both ways down the corridor, wondering which way she would have gone.

"Right here," she whispered, and Harry turned to see her leaning against the wall next to the owlry door. Clearly she had been waiting for him here, knowing that he would come to his senses quickly once he had been left alone to see reason. A broad grin broke its way onto Harry's face, and all the hurt and the anger he had felt previously slipped away, as he slowly let go. He let go of his parents, of the pain their memories caused, and let love for them replace the coldness. He let go of everything, in fact, and leaned in towards Ginny. Lips touched lips, and all hatred of the date October 31 seeped out of his body.

Years later, sitting in a warm room lit by the glow of the crackling fire, Harry and Ginny sat, Harry balancing his son James on his knee while Ginny read him his favorite story. The date was October 31, and they had their whole lives ahead of them.