Christmas with the Potters
Note: This story takes place after the end of Deathly Hallows, although that should be immediately noticeable about two sentences in. Both of Harry's sons have some dialogue, while his daughter hasn't yet woken up.
Harry slowly came down the stairs, yawning loudly. James and Albus ran over to him.
"Happy Christmas, Dad!" they exclaimed, embracing their father in a hug. He shrugged them off and went towards the den as Ginny came down the stairs after him.
"Come on, honey, it can't be all that bad!" she called, picking up her step.
"Mum, what's wrong with Dad?" James asked, frowning. Ginny grimaced slightly, then smiled.
"Don't worry, boys, I'll take care of him. You two had better go back to bed. Christmas will still be here when you get back."
Both boys groaned and went back to their rooms, whispering to each other on the way. Ginny's smile dropped off her face when they were gone and she followed Harry into the kitchen, hands on her hips.
"Harry, what was that?"
Harry didn't look up from his coffee.
"Did you hear me? I said 'What was that'? How could you treat your kids like that on Christmas?"
Harry slammed him mug down. "Look, Ginny, maybe I don't want to celebrate Christmas this year. I mean, something bad always happens…."
She rolled her eyes and sat down. "Are you still sore about that? That was school! Nothing is supposed to fun there!"
Harry shook his head roughly. "You don't understand!" he yelled, jumping up. "My Christmases always had something bad happen! Dobby's death, all those attacks on the muggle borns…the mirror…." He trailed off and looked away, lost in his memories. Ginny walked around the table to him. "I understand that you're upset, but that was years ago! It's not as though sulking and ignoring you family will turn back time."
Harry chuckled. "Yea, and it's not like there are anymore time turners."
They both shared a laugh over their memory, then Harry made to leave the room.
She grinned. "I know, let's go see Mum!"
Harry glanced back. "I don't want to see her today," he mumbled. "I'll see you when you get back."
She scowled at him. "You're doing it again! What is it you plan to do then? Go get the mirror? The resurrection stone? You've got a family now! Start acting like it, and spend Christmas with us."
His shoulders slumped slightly as he considered it. Finally, he relented.
"Fine," he said, "I'm sorry I've been such a git. Go on, wake the kids, we're going to the Burrow for Christmas."
Note: This story operates under the assumption that Harry's Christmas at Hogwarts had been causing bottled up pain. Which is, for all intensive purposes, good for an Auror, and bad for his quarry.
