Hi Daddy, hi Mummy! Oh, by the way, Uncle Harry's helping me write this 'cause I don't know all my letters yet. Gran Dromeda helps me with them, and she says one day I'll be a really smart boy. She also says when I go to Hogwarts, if I work my hardest, I might become a prefect, like Daddy is. Really, I don't see anything wonderful about being a prefect. Uncle Percy was a prefect and he's my least favorite uncle and a git according to Uncles George and Ron. I don't know what that means, because Uncle Harry refuses to explain, but I can tell it's not anything good. Shh; Aunt Hermione will throw a fit if she finds out I've said that word. It can be our little secret. Me and Uncle Harry have loads of secrets. Now we have one too.

Grandmum Molly tells me lots of stories about you. Are you really a wolf, Daddy? And, Mummy, can you really turn your hair pink? You have to concentrate really hard, don't you? I've tried, but the easiest ones for me are brown—Grandmum says that's Daddy's hair color—and turquoise. Victoire doesn't like either of them. That makes me sad, because Vicky is my best friend. Her hair is boring though, it's always blonde. I think she's jealous. It's hard to tell, because she's only two and she doesn't do much besides gurgle at me.

Where are you, Daddy? I see Uncle Bill playing with Dommy and Vicky all the time, and Auntie Audrey and Auntie Hermione spend weekends knitting and doing other stuff. I don't really want you to knit (those sweaters they made are dreadfully ugly), Mummy, but why're you not here? Uncle Harry told me that you had to go away for a while, so you could make this world a better place for me to live in. But, it's already a great place here. I have Gran and Molly and Vicky and everyone else. I just want you back. I feel lonely sometimes, even when seeing Uncle Ron get yelled at from Auntie Hermione. You'll come back one day, won't you?

Oh no, Uncle Harry's starting to cry now. I guess I shouldn't talk about that anymore, because I don't want him to be sad. Oh yeah! Uncle Charlie brought back a dragon yesterday! I think his name is Norberta, but who would name a dragon that? It's a girl's name, and only boys are dragons. So I renamed him Norbert. Hagrid was here too, and kept asking if 'Norberta recognized his mum'. How is he Norbert's Mummy? You don't look anything like Hagrid, right, Mummy? Because that would be scary. Maybe he was trying to say that he's Norbert's Daddy. But not all daddies look like Hagrid, right? That would be scary too.

Gran gave me a necklace a long time ago. It's a crescent moon. She says you always wore it, Mummy. It's a bit old, but still beautiful. I keep it under my pillow. It's my good-luck charm too, and I never have nightmares when it's there. And if I ever do have a bad dream, it won't be too bad because I know I have you guys to protect me. Because you're here, in my heart.

I have to go now, Auntie Fleur's here with Vicky. I love you, Mummy. I love you, Daddy. I miss you. Please come back soon, okay?


Harry set down his quill and rolled the parchment up, trying his best to smile. Teddy noticed.

"What's wrong, Uncle Harry?" he asked curiously.

"Nothing," he said quickly. "Erm—allergies, makes me cry—even if I'm not upset," Harry finished lamely.

"Okay. I'm going to play outside now," Teddy hopped off his stool, scampering out the door to meet Victoire.

"Teddy! Wait."

A now-blonde head turned. "Yes, Uncle?"

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat. "Your mum and dad were—are wonderful, brave people. They loved you more than anything in the world. And," he added, holding his godson's gaze, "if they could wish for anything they wanted, it would've been a way to come back and be here with you. Never forget that."

Teddy nodded earnestly, wrapping Harry in a warm toddler hug. "I won't, Uncle Harry! I promise."

He turned and ran out the door. A second later Harry heard a crash and the bubbling laughter of baby Victoire. Fleur seemed to be gently scolding Teddy for something, and soon, three pairs of feet made their way to the apple orchard. It was only until then, that Harry allowed his tears to fall.


AN: Wow, thank you guys so much for the support! I hadn't expected the story alerts, favorites, etc etc at all! I'm happy c: This is really short, because I just don't know how to put things that I want to write in the perspective of a four-year-old. Merlin forbid I should ever become a kindergarten teacher. I'd probably blow up three or four kids in the first hour.

~Gella