Disclaimer: Nothing you recognize is mine. I swear. I'll take an oath of truth right here and right now, I swear! Anywho, everything except the plot and dialogue belong to the wonderful and most amazing Hogwarts graduate of all... J.K. ROWLING! (Enjoy)

A/N: Harry is a bit OOC towards the end and other than that... Just a plot bunny that wouldn't freaking leave me alone so I shot it with the written word! Please enjoy and leave me your feedback! Also, please don't steal any of my original stuffs... Be creative and write your own!

Anyways...

WARNING: not beta'd, OOC, post-Hogwarts

'Always'
By: MITM
_

Harry Potter sat on the floor in the middle of the room, letting the moonlight cascade over him and cast shadows on the walls. It had been years since he had done this; this night was special. The last of the Death Eaters had been caught and thrown in Azkaban just a few hours prior to this moment and the Boy Who Lived, who became the Savior of the wizarding world, was more relieved than just about anyone else.

Ten years had passed since the second Wizarding War. Ten years since Harry had defeated Voldemort. Ten years since some of his closest friends had died. Ten years... And the nightmares still came. Not every night, and not always the same one; nonetheless they were always terrible.

Harry looked up when he heard a slight shuffling, relaxing when he realized it was only James. James... Beautiful, five year old James Sirius was his oldest son, born on the five year anniversary of the war, who never took 'no' for an answer. Harry knew that Sirius would have loved the little boy -who had Ginny's eyes and Lily's hair- like his own son, had he not fallen behind the veil twelve years ago. James would one day inherit the Maurader's Map and carry on the tradition of his two namesakes.

Then there was Albus. Albus Severus was the quiet child... Meaning he preferred to do his dirty work silently, whereas James liked to shout for attention when he did wrong. Remus would surely have taken Al under his wing if he were still alive...who knows? Snape might've done the same... After all, even though the boy's hair was obviously Potter, there was no denying that his eyes had once belonged to Lily Evans.

The two boys, five and two years old, both became the center of Harry's world when they were born. On nights like these (the 'Nightmare Nights', as Ginny called them) Harry usually fell asleep at the foot of their beds and the darkness would leave him alone. Besides that, he often woke up with his boys wrapped up in his arms trying to fight off the morning chill... And that was peaceful all in itself.

Harry closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of talcum and milk usually associated with babies and small children as he skimmed over the recent events of his life.

His boys would never know a normal life, just as Harry himself never had as a child. They would always be known as 'Harry Potter's Kids'... Would they ever be given a chance to make names for themselves? Living in the shadow of your father... Harry didn't want to think his children would forever resent him for his fame; it was nothing that could be helped. Still- he worried.

He worried what would happen if the Dark Lord were to rise again... Would his James or Albus become the new 'Chosen One' just because of their father? He knew it was absolutely impossible for Voldemort to rise to power once more... But on these nights he could not keep his mind from wandering to all of the 'What If's?' Of his children's futures.

What if kids are mean to them?

What if they can't make friends?

What if they don't make good grades?

What if some crazy pink bint with a love for kittens or an insane turban man with a stutter comes to Hogwarts and makes their lives miserable?

Against his will, the wheels in Harry's brain started turning and creaking dangerously as if they hadn't been used in ages. His mind wrote horror stories of epic proportions and, if he didn't know how pants at Divination he was, he would've assumed all of these intricately woven tales were predictions of the future.

"Harry?" He snapped his eyes open and turned his head abruptly to face the whisper that had come from the doorway to interrupt his meditation.

"Ginny?" Harry yawned and looked at his watch: 1:03 pm.

"I went to get a glass of water and you were gone... Another one of those nights?" She asked, a very Mrs. Weasley crinkle formed between her eyebrows.

"Yes," he said with a nod, "I'm sorry I wasn't there... I would've got a glass for you."

"I'm sure you would have," Ginny smiled as she came into the room and carefully lowered her seven month pregnant body to the ground to sit by her husband of eight years, "what was it about this time."

Harry thought for a moment, "it was nothing, Gin... Don't worry about it."

Ginny crossed her arms as well as she could and cocked a brow, "I don't think so, Mr. Potter," she scolded, "what was it about?"

"You... The boys and the baby were there too," Harry said after almost an eternity had passed, "you were running, and I-" he stopped and took a deep breath- "I was trying, Gin!" Harry cried quietly, glancing fearfully from his wife to the sleeping boys. "I was trying to come with you and help you get away! He was back, Ginny," He said in a steely voice, "he was back, and this time... There was nothing I could do."

Ginny fixed her wise brown eyes on Harry for the better part of a minute before wrapping her arms around him and kissing his cheek softly.

"That could never happen, Harry," she whispered and he held her as close as possible without crushing the Little One, "Voldemort is dead; all of his minions locked up... No one can hurt us."

"What about the other things, Gin? What about the everyday pains you all endure? How can I save you from those?" Harry seemed to be frantically searching for an answer in the folds of Ginny's nighty as he ran the silky material through his fingers and let it slip like sand.

"No one person can save everyone," she replied as she pulled away from him and smoothed out his newest Christmas jumper from Molly. "You, of all people, should know that."

"Maybe that's what I worry so much about: the fact that I think I could've saved them all."

"But you couldn't have!" She dropped her voice when Al started to stir, "no one could have saved them... Not even you."

"I know... I know..." Harry sighed and ran a hand through his eternally mussed hair, "please don't let me forget that."

"What kind of wife would I be if I did something like that?" Ginny asked, seemingly appalled, though she had a smile on her face.

"Lavender?" Harry guessed sarcastically, already beginning to pity Dean Thomas for marrying the vain and irritating woman.

"You should be nicer to the Thomas' , Harry," Ginny admonished as she beckoned for Harry to help her stand up, "if you hadn't stepped in and realized your feelings for me when you did... I could be Mrs. Dean Thomas right now." The smirk that graced her perfectly pink lips made Harry frown.

"I shudder at the very thought!" He shivered to prove his point, making Ginny laugh quietly as they walked back to the master bedroom in Number 12 Grimmauld Place.

"You know that there's no one but you, Harry-Dear," she singsonged, throwing her braided ginger hair over her shoulder and lifting herself carefully onto their king sized bed.

"Ditto, Ginny-Darling," he smiled and placed a chaste kiss on her unsuspecting lips.

"Forever?" Her question was softer than a whisper against his skin, but it was heard all the same.

Harry looked into her eyes with complete sincerity, feeling the pale white softness of her cheek with the back of his hand...

"Always."

The End

A/N: hope you enjoy! Please R&R, Follow, and Favorite!

All my love,

Mimosa In The Morning