AN: so this is an idea I had about what life would be like if things hadn't been all happy and grand after the final battle. Obviously, some things I took from the epilogue but this mostly AU and focusing on Harry dealing with his not so well behaved kids as a single father. I felt terrible about killing Ginny because I actually really like her but sacrifices had to be made for this piece.

Chapter One: Harry Potter and the Trouble Making Kids

Dear Mr. Potter,

I am writing to inquire about your availability to meet and discuss recent events surrounding actions by your eldest son, one James Potter. Please do respond promptly as this matter is of utmost importance.

Best,

Professor Neiva

Potions Master

Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Oh god, what has James done now? That was Harry's first question when he received the owl from Hogwarts on a Tuesday morning. James was a real troublemaker, usually ending up in 'Headmistress Granger's office' at least once a week. It was rare though for a professor to personally reach out to him for a meeting.

Now, that was only partly because he was the savior of the Wizarding World. The other part was the whole "dead wife" thing that no one seemed to know how to handle. Most people would ask how his children were, how he was managing on his own, if he needed any pasta dishes (it took him a year to go through all the lasagna people left when Gin died). Even now, almost eight years after her passing, people didn't know what to say to him.

This professor, Neiva, seemed more concerned with his son's behavior than Harry's personal well being and—that alone—was a relief.

He racked his brain for stories or even just mentions of the new Potions Master but couldn't explicitly think of anything. He thought he could picture a conversation with Hermione where she said that the new professor was a female so that was a start.

Rather than focusing too much on details about the stranger, Harry scrawled out a response and sent it on its way

Does tomorrow at 4pm work for you?

He preemptively added it to his calendar and told his assistant to remind him in the morning to floo over to Hogwarts. After responding to the professor, he also sent a letter over to Hermione asking if she wanted to grab dinner while he was in the neighborhood.

For the rest of the day, Harry was dealing with paperwork and signing countless releases and reports from last week. Let the record show, Harry Potter very much loved the action side of his job where he got to make a difference in the Wizarding World and instate new laws that allowed for safer (and better) living for all. But good God did he hate the paperwork that came with the job.

"Thanks Camille, I won't bother him too much" Ron Weasley had opened the door to his office and was coming in like Harry didn't have enough work to drown himself in.

Ignoring the murderous look on his best mate's face, Ron sat down and asked how Harry's day was going.

"Oh, it's going right well, Ron. Not a sheet of bloody paperwork in sight. Please, sit down and chat." The redhead in question gave a grin and leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees. Based on body language alone, this was not going to be a quick visit.

"Calm down, mate. Anyway, I've a real serious question for you. Yesterday, as I think I told you we were planning on Sunday, Lav and I went to the Healer's office to see how the baby was doing and, well, we learned that it's going to be a boy" Ron was smiling wide, already proud of his unborn son. Harry felt a little bad for trying to brush Ron away a few minutes ago, he was clearly just excited that he was finally (seriously, after their fourth daughter three years ago, Harry was pretty sure that was it) going to have another boy in the house.

"That's great, Ron, I'm so happy for you guys. A boy will be a new experience for you. Seriously, if you want to take one of mine for practice, I've got to meet with James' professor on Thursday to discuss his "recent actions". Trust me, boys are a load of fun" Harry laughed at the end, trying to keep it light, and leaned back in his chair. He couldn't help but think back to when James was first born and he and Ginny were completely out of their element raising this little blob. Turns out, he was still out of his element raising the kid—considering all the trouble he caused as a student, you'd think he would have expected it.

"Recent actions, damn, I wonder what he did this time" Ron was laughing still as he pulled out a black and white photo from yesterday, a moving frame of the baby Lavender was currently carrying. It was pretty customary at this point for Ron to come in beaming with a picture of his soon to be child, five pregnancies for the Weasley-Brown family later and they actually had a routine.

The picture was in Harry's hands before Ron asked which professor he was meeting with. Ron's oldest, Sarah, was currently in her second year so he knew about most of the professors. There was also the little fact about their other best friend being headmistress.

"Neiva, I can't even remember Hermione, or James for that matter, saying anything about her. Also, I'm only 70% certain she is in fact a she." The two men stared at each other for a second before just laughing it off.

"Right, anyway, what I wanted to ask you, was if you would be the Godfather? I know you're already Sarah's Godfather but I'd really appreciate it if you would be the Godfather for this little one too." Ron had picked up this nervous habit where he would fidget with his hands as he spoke when he was unsure how someone would respond. He had done that while asking Harry but, quite honestly, it was a stupid thing to do because obviously Harry would say yes. Sure, seeing Sarah and remembering how he and Ginny had both been her god parents was difficult but he wasn't going to say no to his best friend.

"Of course Ron, I'd be honored." Harry smiled at the red head and earned a glowing grin from the father-to-be.

"Oh thank Merlin. I love my brothers, really, but Percy's a right prick and Charlie's never around and Bill and George are Lila and Molly's godparents so really you were my first choice." The two men both laughed before Ron made a joke about how he and Harry had both basically failed at keeping James from following in their footsteps at Hogwarts.

Ron stayed for a few more minutes, complaining about the weird food Lavender is once again craving and the strange things Lila, their youngest at three years old, has been saying recently. Soon enough, Harry was back on his own with all of those lovely reports that were just his absolute favorite thing about this job.

"Hey Harry, I'm going to head out. Make sure you're out of the office by 5:30 if you want to pick up Lily before Mrs. Weasley feeds her dinner at the Burrow." Camille, Harry's assistant, said from the doorway at five past. She had a stack of paper in the crook of one arm and her jacket tossed over the other, a picture of professionalism.

This was routine for them, Cam would drop today's papers off at five before heading out and he would decide which needed to be done immediately and which could wait until morning. She was also a kind soul who would remind him when to realistically leave in time to pick up his daughter.

Before he learned that Cam swung for the other team, he had thought she'd make a perfect wife. Well put together, stunning blonde with a fit body, organized, kind. Of course, back when he thought this he was going through the pain of losing his wife and being completely lost on raising a prematurely born little girl with two hellions running around.

Any thoughts (ill-placed to begin with) about a relationship with Camille were extinguished when she introduced him to her then girlfriend, Nicole. Now their always-functional work relationship was also one of his most cherished friendships outside of Hermione and Ron. There was something about the blunt honesty Camille dished out about how he was letting his life fall to shit that always made him pick up the pieces. For someone who never met Ginny, Cam sure did know exactly what his wife would have wanted for him—and that did not include the drunken, piss poor excuse of a father that he was when she first started.

"I know, Cam—I'm leaving right after I grab the time sensitive reports. You know, you and Ashley are welcome to mine for dinner, Lily misses you." Ashley, Camille's most recent girlfriend, was terrible. Harry only invited them both places because he knew that Cam really liked the psycho.

"Thanks but we've actually got reservations at that new place, Wicked, down near Olivander's. Next time though" He nodded and she threw him a last smile before turning on her heel and heading out the door.

Flipping through the last stack of papers before he could leave, Harry was struck with the singular worst thought: why the hell can't his employees manage a simple incident report on their own? Why, for Merlin's sake, did he have to proof read and approve each one before it was sent to the Minister for review? Why were most of the Aurors complete idiots with at most three neurons left synapsing in their brains?

"Well Lily, looks like daddy has a long night ahead of him" Harry said to himself as he threw the necessary files into his briefcase, a thing he absolutely loathed but it was so convenient he had to keep, before heading out to the main hall to floo over to the Burrow.

On his way out, he was hit with a few flirtatious glances (Pavarti Patil had quite the thing for him these days, even after the whole disaster of the Yule Ball back in fourth year) and only one pitying look from an elderly lady who apparently thought he should still be a puddle of tears eight years after his wife's death.

Eight years was a long time, but eight years when you have three kids who you can't bail on simply because "it's hard today" is even longer. Molly was great with the kids and Ron and Lavender would take the children often to give him a break, but life without Ginny was something he wasn't sure he would ever be okay with. Yes, he had adjusted and made due, but he wasn't okay with raising his kids as a single dad.

Without much thought about the older woman, likely a relative of an old classmate but nothing more, Harry was stepping into a fireplace and on his way to see the light of his life—Lily Potter.

"DADDY" a little voice called the moment his feet touched the ground in the Burrow. Not three seconds later, a little red-headed girl came barreling toward him and crashed into his legs. She mumbled I missed you's and I love you's into his knees before he scooped her up and planted a kiss on her cheek.

When Ginny passed away, three days after their daughter was born, he refused to put the little girl down but couldn't look at her without crying. She was the spitting image of her mother with red hair and soft features. Harry also liked to think that the stubborn streak his daughter had was a direct result of her mother but he wasn't sure if saying that was fooling anyone.

"Why hello my sweet, sweet girl. We're you good for Nana Molly?" Lily gave a closed lip smile and nodded her head then wrapped her arms around his neck and pushed herself further into him. He knew that the girl missed him during the day and especially missed her brothers during the school year.

"Harry, there you two are. She was a little restless today, insisted that James said to keep Nana Molly on her toes, isn't that right my sweet?" Molly came into the room much like she always did, in a whirl of motherly dotting and scolding's disguised in kind words. He knew how much it had hurt Molly to lose her only daughter and her second child—the only thing that made the pain bearable was dotting on the newborn left without a mother.

"I'll try to tell him to keep things a little more tame tomorrow, Molly." She quirked an eye brow at him and folded her arms, silently instructing him to continue

"I've a meeting with his professor—potions. I'm sure the professor is a right bat just like Snape, I'm hoping he didn't do anything too serious and this professor is just over reacting. You know James though, chances are he blew the whole potions lab up." Harry shifted Lily a bit to make it easier to hold her as he spoke to his former Mother in law. Molly gave him a look he had seen many times before: get a handle on that hooligan.

Molly hmm'd quite audibly before insisting that he give the boy her love after a strict instruction to keep the miscreant behavior to a minimum. He knew how much James worried his only grandmother—the boy was literally the worst thing to hit Hogwarts since Harry himself. James managed to get into trouble no matter what—Voldemort wasn't a concern anymore so all of his antics were purely to cause havoc and mayhem. Harry also liked to blame it on the group of older boys—fourth and fifth years—that he had fallen in with at the start of this year.

At this point in the conversation, Lily had squirmed out of her father's hold and down to the ground, where she was now pulling at his arm and attempting to drag him to the fireplace so that they could floo home. Lily really and truly loved her grandmother but spending all day with her was q lot for the eight year old. Most days she attended a local magic/muggle school, where children learned the basics of math, science, reading, writing, and history, during school hours. Today was one of the school holidays where Lily would spend more than two hours at the burrow after school, you could see the cabin fever in her eyes.

"I'll tell him, don't worry. I think this little one wants to go—thanks again for taking her the whole day"

"Hey, I'm not little daddy, I'm nearly a grown up." Harry looked at the eight year old with a blank look of 'what even does that mean' as Molly just smiled before moving closer, crouching, whispering something to the girl, and kissing her on the head.

"I see a little more of her in each of them every day." Molly said after standing up and gave Harry a quick hug before pushing the father and daughter over to the fireplace.

"Me too, Molly, me too, and it absolutely terrifies me"

With that they were on their way home, where an excited Lily would likely take off to the kitchen to start collecting pots and pans so that she could help out with dinner.

"Dad, are we going to make just spaghetti? Or should we make meatballs and garlic bread and spaghetti?" Lily was ginning like a mad little chef with her hands on her hips and two pans already laid out on the white granite island.

"How about we make the bread and the pasta? Meatballs might take a while, Lil" she nodded and went around the kitchen grabbing a jar of pasta sauce from the refrigerator (Harry had smartly bought the one the salesman said was smudge-proof) and the recently bought loaf of bread from the breakfast bar.

Harry would often forget the little spitfire was only eight when she did things like this. She would act so much older, like she was the parent and he needed to be watched. He loved her more for it but it was a constant reminder that she would never have Ginny to mother her and take care of everything. Albus didn't remember much about Ginny so James was the only one with a few really solid memories of their mother. Thoughts like this were what haunted Harry. How was he supposed to compensate as a parent when Ginny was always the natural and he had been a fumbling idiot those first few years?

He watched as Lily dragged a chair over to the counter and climbed up so that she could reach the pasta (she still couldn't) and Harry quickly went and lifted her up the extra few inches. Her bubbly laugh broke him from the depressing thoughts about Ginny and reminded him to be present here and now, for Lily's sake.

"I'm going to be tall and strong just like you, daddy. Just you wait. James and Albus will be the ones running from me then." She had a smile on her face as she said this, excited by the prospect of one day not being the one chased—doing the chasing was more her speed.

"Well, my sweet girl, I'd be happy even if you were the shortest, weakest girl in thw whole wide world." Harry pulled her off the counter, pasta box in hand, and swung her in a circle before setting her on the ground as he was speaking.

The little girl laughed and said that was silly of him, she was the tallest girl in her year, after all.

The rest of their meal preparation went off without a hitch. Lily helped Harry carry the perfectly browned loaf of garlic bread into the dining room and sat herself down at her favorite spot along the dark wood table—right at the head. Harry, as always, sat right next to her and would pull all the details he could out of her about how her day went. He knew there would come a day when she was 'too old' or 'too cool' to tell her dad these things and he wanted to cherish the moments while he could. Lord knows James and Albus were already over telling him anything about their lives.

Later, after watching two episodes of Lily's favorite TV show—some terrible thing on Disney, Harry Potter hated Disney—and a quick bath, Lily was all settled into her dragon themed bedroom and ready for a story.

As usual, she asked for the one about how her parents met and fell in love. Harry hated telling the real story so he had turned it into a fairytale about a beautiful princess and her six brothers meeting a plain common boy who was destined to slay the bad dragon that wanted to rule the kingdom. When he thought about it, the whole story was literal rubbish. Voldemort as a dragon—a bad dragon because Lily loved dragons and slaying just any old dragon was a huge no-no. All of his friends filling really odd medieval sounding jobs. A very strange story that Lily loved all the same.

Without fail, she would fall asleep before he finished the story. Tonight was no different.

After Lily was sound asleep with Puck the stuffed Hungarian Horntail tucked under her arm, Harry went down stairs and poured himself a glass of firewhiskey before setting in to finish up his paperwork.

Life as a single dad was not fun. He wished every day that Ginny was around to help him out, to go to stupid confrences with their trouble making kids professors with him, to make up stories for their daughter, to tell him that he wasn't completely messing everything up. He wished all these things regularly but, at some point, he had stopped letting all these impossible dreams keep him from doing his best. He stopped drinking so much, started taking the kids out more, repainted every room in the house a light color and bought new furniture, had most of the rooms entirely renovated actually, learned what to do at parent-teacher conferences. Harry learned how to get by.

Give it a bit more time and he would be even better at this whole 'doing it on his own' thing. Until then, though, he was just going to worry about what to do about James and his meeting with the potions professor tomorrow. Why couldn't his kid have been a quite little book worm? Was that so much to ask?

AN: So yeah, that's the first chapter. Let me know what you thought/if anyone wants to read more because if no one does I won't spend any more time writing this (I have school work that would probably like attention too but whatever). Next chapter would be Harry going to Hogwarts and meeting the new potions professor, Neiva, and obviously hangin with Hermione. I'll post that soon if people like this. I'm seriously not offended if no one does, btw, this is just one of those thoughts that gets in your head and sticks there until you write it down. I obviously hope you like it (duh) and want to read more though. Wow, I ramble a lot. I'm going to stop now.