Harry set the wreath of flowers down on the ground carefully, and leaned forward to wipe a smudge of dirt off his parents' grave. His fingers traced the etching of the lettering, feeling the names of the two people whose bones lay beneath him.
"I'm living for you," he said quietly, September sunlight spilling onto the grass around him. "You wouldn't believe how much Sirius has grown. And you should've seen his face when he got the letter."
There was only silence; no voices whispered to him in answer. For one moment a sob caught in his throat, unhealed scars suddenly afire again. But it turned into a strange, unexpected laugh as he recalled the faces of his two children, Sirius and Nymph, of the way the sun shone on his wife Ginny's hair.
I've got a family again, he said to himself. He was the luckiest man in the world.
Morning birdsong fluttered in the air, and Harry felt as if he could almost taste excitement that had taken hold of his son in the past few weeks; now, the day had finally come, when he would stand on the platform of nine and three quarters and wave off his child, the ghost of the past, a little green-eyed boy with a scar on his forehead, standing beside him.
He heard quick steps on the shingle path nearby and a lively voice.
"Dad! Dad!"
He straightened up, looking one more time at the wreath of brightly-coloured flowers lying in front of the gravestone. Then he turned away and walked to his son, pride blossoming as he observed the black-haired boy with his Hogwarts hat.
"I've told you, you can't wear that to the station," Harry warned his son without being serious.
"Fine," Sirius answered, yanking off the hat. "But Mum says we have to get moving, I can't miss the Express!"
"We'll make it in plenty of time, you'll see!"
"I can't wait to meet new people, I bet they'll all be impressed when I tell them my Dad's an Auror!"
"They'll be more impressed by you, I should think. Go on, you run ahead, I'll catch up." He motioned with his hands and Sirius obeyed, disappearing beyond the kissing gate.
Before Harry followed him, he paused and looked up to the sky, where the morning sun was slowly climbing. They were all there, everyone he'd ever known and loved who had passed on. And one day, he'd be reunited with them.
But not yet. He had been given a life, and he had years and years ahead of him, before he met Death and walked away with him, equals forever.