The green eyed man stared sympathetically at the crying couple, firmly holding the hand of his wife. The stern looking redhead offered the couple a smile and this gesture somehow seemed to make the wife cry even harder. Ginny met his eyes and he allowed her to search through his mind, to see his resolve. She tore her gaze away and stared at the ground. The war was over. They shouldn't have to do this.
"This is the right thing to do, isn't it?" the blond husband spoke, voice shaking only slightly, looking softly toward the room where his children slept. He could almost hear them breathing, could almost feel their pleasant, unknowing dreams. That strengthened him.
"It is," the great wizard standing before him humbled. He seemed, at least, to understand how hard this was. "They will save so many people."
"Are you sure that they will be safe?" Christina, the crying wife, finally asked. Her lips were trembling but she had seemed to sense her husband's strength and had calmed significantly.
"I guarantee that they will be. I wouldn't ask this of you if I had any doubt. I'll make sure that the people they stay with know who they are, who their family is, even if I can't give them all the information I should like. They will never want for affection." Knowledge is a dangerous thing, he didn't say.
The couple breathed as one for a few minutes and considered this. Harry Potter watched them quietly, gave them their privacy when they finally made their decision and went to say their goodbyes to their children. It was people like them that reminded him of his faith, people like them that he had fought so hard to save.
"They're brave," Ginny whispered. The glasses-wearing wizard nodded his agreement.
"When Albus was alive he spoke often of the power of love," he said, silent enough so as to not disturb the couple's last moments with their children. "If it weren't for him, I don't think I'd have understood how important this is. I don't think I'd have been able to make this choice." He squeezed her hand and she suddenly knew how hard this was for him to do. She knew that he would feel guilty about it for the rest of his life; he, of all people, knew what it was like to have the world forced on his shoulders.
"They can do it," she said firmly.
"I know."