Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling. This story is merely my way of saluting her. I do not own any of these characters; I just manipulate their thoughts.

-x-

Dinner was spent with loud chatter about the Quidditch tryouts and broomsticks. Harry was talked into buying Albus and James the new Nimbus 3000. He didn't know how, but he was sure the arguments were sound enough to make him buy two. Not that he could remember what those arguments were. Even Lily was caught up in all the talk.

"What did Mum play?"

"She was a Chaser."

"When I grow up, I'm going to be a Chaser," Lily said importantly. Ginny smiled from her portrait. She rarely said anything when the children were present. Harry knew that was a good thing. He was glad for it. Lily used to park herself in front of Ginny everyday, hoping to catch a few words. When Harry voiced his concern to the portrait, Ginny had stopped saying anything to Lily, merely smiling or nodding whenever her daughter said something. That had saddened Lily, but being a six-year-old, soon forgot those days when she used to have conversations with her mother, opting for her father instead.

"I was one of the best Chasers there, huh Dad?" James asked, looking at Harry for reassurance.

"The best," Harry said, winking at his son proudly.

"I'll be like you, Daddy. I'm going to catch all the Snitches. I'm going to be famous too," Albus declared.

"Of course you are," Harry remarked, shaking his head.

"We can go tomorrow too, right Dad?"

"Why else would I have bought brooms?"

The children cheered. Harry held back a sigh. One more year and his children will start to disappear off to Hogwarts one by one. The thought of that made his cringe. Not seeing his children for nine months would be torture and he knew it. He didn't know what he was supposed to do with himself in a few years, when Lily was sent off too. He knew the world expected him to take up his vacant position as Auror again, once his children were old enough. But during the course of the year, Harry had started to grow more and more confused about whether to go back to work. Being an Auror had its risks. With three children, Harry wasn't sure about taking risks anymore. When Ginny was around, she had pushed Harry into the risks. The risk of buying a new house, getting married, having James, going through Auror training – the risk of living. After Hogwarts, Harry was content with sitting at home and living his life peacefully with no more danger. Ginny had the spirit in her, forcing Harry to play Quidditch again and travel the world. With his better half gone, Harry was slowly crawling back under his shell, detaching himself from the scrutinizing world. Yet another aspect of his life Hermione was worried about.

The next day, Harry followed his excited children into the Quidditch pitch. It was less crowded than before, thankfully. Harry kept his eye on Lily bobbing head. She wanted to follow her brothers into the pitch too, so was thoroughly disappointed when Harry told her that she wasn't old enough. Her chin trembled and she pouted, folding her small arms across her chest, looking adorable. "Just wait a year longer, Lily. You'll be a Chaser in no time," Harry said, running his fingers through Lily's hair.

"I want to be a Chaser now," she mumbled.

"Okay, how about we practice?"

Lily looked up at Harry, trying to keep her face sad. Her eyes always gave her away though, and right now they were shining with curiosity. Harry conjured up a small Quaffle, handing it to Lily. She took is uncertainly, clutching it to her chest. Her inexperienced hands struggled to hold it.

"That's a Quaffle. And you," Harry nudged Lily's nose, "need to be able to catch it."

"Okay," Lily said, trying to keep her enthusiasm at bay. She was still mad and sad. She wanted Harry to know that. So she stomped away from the field, knowing Harry would follow. Harry hid his smile as best as he could, following her. They stopped beside the bleachers. Lily eyed the mysterious Quaffle, flicking her eyes at Harry. He nodded, holding out his hands. She heaved the ball out of her hands, attempting to throw it. A failed attempt, but an attempt nonetheless. The ball flew up in the air and landed a foot away from Lily. She pouted, looking at Harry. He nodded again, wiggling his fingers. She tossed the Quaffle up, her hands following through behind her head. Once again, the ball landed a couple feet from Lily. She growled with frustration, running up and tossing the ball with ferocity. Harry chuckled behind his hand as the ball flew backwards, almost bonking a man on the head. Lily was not pleased, her lips trembling and her eyes stinging.

"I can't do it," she whined, tears dripping down her face. Harry floated the Quaffle back into her hand.

"Not without practice," he said. "This time, don't throw your hands in the air. Throw your hands at me."

"No," Lily said, dropping the Quaffle on the ground.

Harry sighed, walking up to his daughter. "Lily," he said, crouching down. "It's okay to not be able to do it the first time. Your Uncle Ron was awful at Quidditch when he first started. But with practice, he became quite good, didn't he?"

Lily turned away from Harry, wiping her tears furiously. Harry stayed on the grass, sitting down cross-legged and holding the Quaffle in his hands. He watched the young players fly around the pitch, racing each other and playing tag. A few adults were roaming the sky. Probably coaches, Harry thought as he watched a few of them shouting out instructions to the children. Harry smiled slightly when one of the children thought his right was his left, causing a minor midair collision. He remembered those days, not understanding why there was a right and left. It was all the same to him. He'd received many boxed ears from the Dursleys for that. He saw his sons doing slow turns and quick stops in the air, following their instructor. Harry knew they had the aptitude to be good Quidditch players. They had the spunk and the confidence. They even knew their right from their left.

"Daddy," Lily whined when she realized that Harry wasn't paying attention to her meltdown.

"Hmm?" Harry asked, wrenching his eyes away from his sons. Lily was now standing beside him, looking utterly miserable.

"Nothing," Lily said, sitting beside Harry. Harry shifted her onto his lap, hugging her gently.

"We'll try again later, okay?"

She nodded slightly. They watched the children swooping and hollering on the field, trying to catch the attention of their family and their friends whenever they did something right.

"Hi, Mr. Potter!"

Harry turned to his side, smiling faintly at the approaching figure of Scorpius. He was donned head-to-toe in Quidditch gear, complete with goggles and shin plates.

"You look spiffy," Harry complimented.

"I know," Scorpius said, grinning. "Look what I got?" He opened his fist, showing a small Snitch fluttering weakly on his palm.

"What's that?" Lily asked breathlessly, apparently quite taken with the golden ball.

"That's the Snitch, Lily. That's what Seekers catch."

"I want to be a Seeker."

"Okay," Harry said, smiling into her hair.

"Dad said I could keep it. Isn't it cool?" Scorpius asked, eager for Harry's approval. Harry gave a hearty nod, causing Scorpius to blush with pride. "I caught it when I was playing with Dad. I beat him," the boy grinned from ear to ear.

"You did, did you?" Harry said mildly, glancing at the field to see if he could spot Draco. "Is he here?"

Scorpius' face fell. "No, I came with Gramma," he said, scuffing his shoes on the grass.

"Does she know you're with me?" Harry asked.

Scorpius shrugged, fumbling with his Snitch and staring at its wings. And right on cue, his grandmother called out to him.

"Scorpius, don't you dare run away like that! What if – oh…" Narcissa froze when Harry looked up at her curiously. "Mr. Potter. Good afternoon," she said, straightening her dress. Harry blinked at how different she looked – more motherly. Her blond hair was tinged with slight gray, adding to her mature beauty. She no longer had the superior air about her. Harry was surprised to find a slight smile on her lips. He moved to stand, but she waved him down with an elegant gesture. "No, no, no need to get up," she said. She glanced at Scorpius' embarrassed face. "He hasn't stopped talking about you, you know?" she said, raising her distinguished brows at Harry. Now it was Harry's turn to blush. "Don't worry, nothing incriminating," Narcissa added. Harry smiled hesitantly. "Your child?" she asked, looking at Lily. Harry nodded. "Like her mother, isn't she?"

"Yes," Harry said, squeezing Lily tighter.

"I'm very sorry about your loss," Narcissa said solemnly.

"And yours," Harry said. Lucius had passed away a few years after the Battle. It seemed the only person who really cared about Lucius was Narcissa. Draco had given up on his father after Voldemort's defeat, as had the rest of the world. Narcissa's eyes clouded for a brief moment, but it cleared quickly as she nodded curtly.

"Do you mind…"Narcissa waved at the ground.

Harry's brows furrowed. He couldn't imagine Narcissa Malfoy sitting on the grass beside him. He quickly found his tongue. "No, not at all!"

Narcissa folded her legs neatly under her, sitting down with sophistication only a Malfoy could muster. She pulled Scorpius onto her lap, holding him lightly as she watched the players in the sky. She tilted her head at Harry, realization striking her. "Ah, of course. Your sons are trying out, aren't they?" she asked.

Harry laughed. "Of course," he repeated.

"What are their names?"

"James is my oldest, then it's Albus, and this is Lily."

"Are you raising them on your own, Mr. Potter?" she asked quietly.

"Please, call me Harry. Mr. Potter makes me sound so – mature. They have family, of course. The Weasleys. But, yes, I suppose I am."

"It can be difficult," she said, her eyes distant as she wrapped her fingers around Scorpius' small ones. The boy kissed his grandmother on the cheek absently.

"Nothing I can't handle," Harry said, smiling at Scorpius.

Narcissa laughed musically. Harry looked at her with surprise. He just realized that he'd never heard her laugh before. The laugh brightened her face, her blue eyes shining. "Of course you can handle it. You're Harry Potter," she said.

"Sounds like something Malfoy would say," Harry muttered.

"Where do you think he gets it from?" Narcissa remarked. Harry blushed again. "So you've quit the Auror business, then?" she asked.

Harry shrugged. "No, just a hiatus," he said.

"Why don't you coach?"

"Hmm?"

"Why don't you coach Quidditch Minor?"

Harry stared at Narcissa blankly. "I don't – what do you mean?"

"You were the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. I'm sure Draco could use someone like you."

"A coach…" Harry said thoughtfully. "I haven't even been on a broom for over a year. And I haven't played proper Quidditch in four."

"That doesn't mean you've lost your skills," Narcissa said pointedly.

"No, of course not. But – I'd never thought about it, that's all."

"Think about it now. Draco already has the thought in his head, after seeing you yesterday. Knowing him though," she rolled her eyes, "he'd probably just blackmail you into coaching."

"Blackmail me? Sounds about right."

Scorpius was listening intently at the conversation, wondering when he could get a word in edgewise. This seemed like the perfect opportunity. "I want to be on your team," he said loudly.

"Manners," Narcissa chided.

"Please?" Scorpius added. Harry grinned at the boy's sweet smile and subtle charm.

"I'll put in a good word," Harry said, winking. Although Scorpius had no idea what that meant, he knew that a smile and a wink was a good sign. So he grinned widely.

"Gramma, I'm going to go play," he announced, hoping Harry saw how good he was and recruited him on the spot. He jumped out of Narcissa's lap, zooming down to the field. Narcissa got up as well, brushing stray grass off of her dress. "It's true what they say, you know…"

Harry looked up at her, questioningly. "What do they say?"

"You are one of a kind. Forgiveness comes naturally."

"Forgiveness? I don't – you saved my life, Mrs. Malfoy!"

"For selfish reasons…"

Harry was at a loss for words. Narcissa was apologizing. To him. The world seemed to have turned itself on its head. She smiled faintly at Harry's gaping face before strolling proudly down to the pitch to keep an eye on her grandson.

That night, he talked to Hermione about the coaching position. She seemed quite enthused.

"It's about time you did something, Harry," she said, hugging her pillow as she drank her coffee. Harry's head flickered in her fireplace, green and glowing.

"It'll be good, right? I mean, I can keep an eye on the kids and it's just going to be for the next five months or so, I guess."

"Of course it's good. They'll love you," she said reassuringly.

"Want to know who asked me?"

"Who?" Hermione asked, sipping on her cup.

"Narcissa Malfoy. On behalf of Draco," Harry said, watching Hermione's varying expression.

"Why?" she asked in confusion.

"Want to hear something ever crazier?"

"No."

"She apologized."

Hermione gawked at Harry, then shook herself out of her daze. "No, she didn't."

"She did. Not in so many words, but she did. It was really sweet, actually."

"You're overlooking the parts about her wanting to kill me."

Harry sighed, biting his lips nervously at Hermione's passionate comment. "Well, yeah. But she's changed for the better. I can see it."

"You only see the good in people, Harry. You trust too easily."

"Oh, come on, Hermione. You're just really suspicious, that's all."

"I have every right to be," Hermione said. "She was there when I was –" Hermione broke off, glaring through Harry.

Harry knew it was time to change the subject. "Anyway, the kids are pretty excited about the coaching thing. Lily's already started preparing. She's dragging around Ginny's Firebolt whenever she leaves her bedroom. And Albus doesn't want to take off his Seeker gloves. Apparently, he wants to keep them on because if he doesn't, he might not catch the Snitch in his dreams. I may have to pry it off of his hands when he's asleep."

"Harry," Hermione interrupted Harry's ramblings.

"Hmm?"

"You are alright, aren't you?"

"Of course," he said, confused at Hermione's question.

"Will you be coming for Ron's party?"

"Well, yeah… Why do you ask?"

"You haven't spoken to him in months. I was just wondering…"

"It's fine, Hermione. We're fine," Harry said, not quite believing the statement.

"I mean – I understand how difficult it is, with the three kids. But you need to know how hard it is for Ron too. He hasn't –"

"I really don't want to talk about it right now," Harry said tiredly.

"But you never want to talk about it," Hermione said insistently.

"Because I'm handling my life just fine."

"You're not the only person in your life. Your life isn't just you and the kids, Harry. We're part of it too."

Harry closed his eyes in frustration. "I – I have to go. I'll talk to you later." And with that Harry disappeared from Hermione's fireplace.

-x-

Sure enough, when Draco saw the opportunity, he struck. Harry and Lily were walking down the sidelines hand in hand, watching the players. Draco neatly stepped in their path, stopping them.

"Potter."

"Oh, hello," Harry said, startled. "Oh, hello," Lily repeated after her father.

Draco titled a smile at Lily before continuing. "You're not an Auror anymore, are you?"

"Er – not really."

"Since you're swatting flies at home, why don't you coach one of the Minor teams?"

"Really?"

"No need to act so shocked. I know Mother talked to you already. She told me. She said you were interested."

Harry smiled. "Damn, I was hoping you'd have to actually try and convince me. Yes, I am interested. How many teams are you planning on having?"

Draco rolled his eyes, jamming one hand into his pocket. "I wasn't going to waste my breath convincing you, Potter," he said sullenly. "Six to begin with, ten for now," he added.

"Ten for now?"

"Well, clearly I wasn't expecting all the children to try out! So yes, now I have to make ten teams and find coaches for them. One less to find since you've agreed."

"Hmm… Are you coaching?"

"If the need arises, sure."

"Well, I pity the children."

Draco scowled at Harry. "When do you want to start?"

Harry was surprised that Draco hadn't taken the bait. Not too many years ago, a glib comment would've cost Harry his jaw. Now, Draco just glazed over it. Harry wasn't sure how he felt about the change. He blinked at Draco in confusion for a moment before collecting himself and saying, "Anytime."

"Today?"

"Er – sure," Harry said, shrugging.

"Great, come one." Draco walked onto the pitch. Lily grinned and followed him, pulling Harry along with her. There were about fifty children on the pitch, broken into groups of ten. Each group was doing a different training routine, run by one of the coaches. Harry had to sidestep ten sprinting blurs as he tried to keep up with Draco. Above him, a few daring boys were corkscrewing upwards while the others watched in admiration and envy. Some of the children were on the grass, listening to their coach talking about how the game was played. Draco stopped in front of a petite woman with a hard face and soft brown eyes. Her short brown hair was stuck out on end, shooting every which way.

"This is Rora Blige. She's been helping me sort out all the mess here. Rora, this is Harry Potter."

"Of course it is," she said, rolling her eyes at Draco and holding out a hand for Harry to shake.

Harry's eyes widened. "Oh, you played for Cannons," he said with awe. He shook her hand vigorously, evidently star struck.

Rora smiled slightly at Harry's gawking expression. "Yes, I did. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Potter," she said.

"Please, call me Harry."

"Alright then, Harry it is." She then looked at Draco questioningly.

"He's going to be a coach for one of the teams," Draco informed her.

Rora's eyes brightened with delight. "How wonderful! When do you want to start?"

"Malfoy thinks I should start now," Harry said.

"Even better. Have your broom on you?"

Harry's heart drummed. His broom hadn't been touched since Ginny's death. He shook his head abruptly, tightening his hold on Lily's hand.

"That's alright, he can borrow mine," Draco said, swishing his wand silently.

Harry heard a slight swishing sound as a supremely well-designed Nimbus stopped beside Harry. He eyed it warily. "I – I was thinking I could do one of the – um – ground things," he said weakly.

"Oh? That's fine too," Rora said, glancing at Draco. Harry saw Draco shrugging out of the corner of his eye.

"I'm more comfortable on my own broom, that's all," Harry explained half-heartedly.

Rora smiled easily, nodding her head. "I know what you mean. So you won't mind if I shove ten kids your way? Or do you need me to help you with them?"

"I'm sure I can manage ten kids."

"Harry bloody Potter," Draco mumbled, causing Harry's lips to twitch.

"Okay, great. Just wait here, and I'll send the brats over. We are running out of coaches, anyway," and with that Rora ran down the field to the sidelines, gathering the children who were patiently waiting for their turn on the field.

"It's not as easy as it looks, Potter. Ruddy handful, the kids," Draco said, keeping an eye on the children floating above them.

"Hmm… If they aren't taken by my charms, I'm sure I can use the other tricks up my sleeve," Harry said, following Draco's gaze.

Draco snorted in amusement. "Scorpius is steadfast on getting into your team, Potter," he said.

"I noticed," Harry said as he chuckled. They lapsed into an awkward silence, unsure of what to talk about. Harry knew it was a justified silence, since they had been school rivals for over six years, the sixth year turning their petty arguments into death threats. A year after the Battle, Draco had approached Harry in the Ministry. Harry still remembered the day. He'd been in the communal lounge, talking with his fellow Auror trainees about the brutal sessions they had. Draco had entered the room without Harry's knowledge. His friends, who'd suddenly stopped chattering to glare menacingly at the doorway, had alerted Harry of Draco's presence. Ex-Death Eaters weren't usual visitors in the Ministry, let alone in the Auror lounge. Harry remembered Draco's mild stare and blank face, both directed at him. He'd stumbled out of the lounge, his mind reeling at the blond boy's sudden appearance.

"I wanted to thank you," Draco had said in a low voice, his eyes studying the floor.

Harry had been caught unaware, leading him to gape like a guppy. "What?" he had managed to ask.

"For saving me. And testifying…" Draco had muttered.

"Oh. Um – you're welcome?"

Draco had nodded curtly and walked out of Harry's life in a flash. Now, to be standing on the pitch filled with giggling children almost ten years later with Draco seemed surreal to Harry. Especially when he suddenly became aware of his own child tugging at his arm.

"What?" Harry asked, looking down at Lily.

"I want to fly!" she said.

"In a bit, okay?" he said vaguely, hoping that'd appease his daughter. He'd just caught sight of the ten children traipsing behind Rora, moving towards him.

"Okay, troops. Your coach for today is Mr. Harry Potter. Please be on your best behavior because it's his first day and because he's Harry Potter," Rora announced.

The children were squirming with excitement at Harry's name and Harry was squirming with embarrassment at Rora's introduction.

"He'll be showing you all about Quidditch equipment," Rora continued, ignoring the reactions around her. Draco was smirking at Harry's blushing face. Rora flicked her wand, floating the large wooden chest of equipment towards Harry. "They're all yours," she said, nodding at Harry before walking off, leaving him to fend for himself.

The children stared up at his expectantly and Harry knew they were trying to take a peek at his scar. He fidgeted with his shirt at the scrutiny, much to Draco's amusement. Having Draco stare at him wasn't helping his cause either, Harry noticed. He glared at the blond man, hoping to send the message loud and clear. Draco looked like he received the message and proceeded to sit down on the grass, waiting for Harry to continue. Harry sighed in defeat. "Um – you guys can sit down too," he said hesitantly. The children obeyed without hesitancy, their grins splitting their faces. Harry knelt beside the chest, heaving the heavy lid open. Lily was wandering around him, uncertain of what to do with herself.

"You can start with the Quaffle, Potter," Draco drawled, pulling at blades of grass.

"R – right. How many of you know what a Quaffle is?" he asked.

"I do, Daddy!" Lily said in delight. She pointed to the small Quaffle sitting in its nesting spot on one end of the chest. Harry smiled at his daughter. He pulled out the Quaffle, holding it up.

"This is the Quaffle. This is one way of earning points. If you get this ball into those hoops," Harry pointed to the rings, "you get ten points. Easy enough, right?"

The children nodded. It was easy enough for them to understand because they already knew about it. But that didn't stop them from hanging onto every word stumbling out of Harry's mouth.

"That's where the Bludgers come in," Harry said, pointing to the two rattling balls that were yearning to break free.

"In real life," Draco interjected, "if you're hit by these, it hurts like he – er, it hurts really bad. But for you guys, it'll just wobble you a bit. So hold onto your brooms if you are hit by the Bludgers."

Harry nodded. "And these bats are for knocking the Bludgers towards the other team," he said, holding up the wooden bats. "The last ball is, of course, the Snitch. They are awfully sneaky. Whichever team catches the Snitch wins the game." Harry opened the hatch on the lid of the chest, drawing out the Snitch. He marveled at the feeling. It had been a long while since he had touched the golden fluttering wings. He held it up for the children to see.

"Were you a Seeker?" one of the boys asked in adoration. Harry blinked away from the glinting Snitch, looking at the boys and girls in front of him. He nodded mutely.

"I want to be a Seeker too."

"Me too!"

"I've already started practicing."

"I'm going to buy my own Snitch."

The group was starting to talk over each other, trying to garner Harry's attention. All he could do was grin helplessly as the kids stumbled over their words, trying to impress Harry with them. Draco rolled his eyes, using his clear voice to calm down the distracted children. "Potter, tell them about the time you swallowed the Snitch," he said. The group stopped chattering, blinking at Draco and then blinking at Harry.

"Er…"

"You aren't supposed to swallow it, Daddy. You have to catch it," Lily reprimanded.

And so began Harry's first tentative day as a coach. Harry enjoyed working with children for the simple fact that they were innocent and didn't ask any complicated questions. They took his mind off of his worries. It was enjoyable, listening to their mindless garbles and uninhibited laughs. By the end of three hours, Harry was getting more comfortable with teaching the groups of children. He still needed to perfect his teaching style, because he often seemed to get sidetracked with personal anecdotes and long-winded explanations. But for a first day, he was quite proud of himself.

Once he'd tucked his tired kids into bed, he ventured into his own room, opening the large closet door slowly. A light flashed on in the walk-in closet. Harry felt slightly dizzy from the vague lavender scent that Ginny had been impartial to. Her clothes still hung on the hangers messily. Harry hadn't the heart to move them. He ran his hands down the robes and dresses, his heart thumping painfully in his chest. He kept expecting Ginny to pop her head into the closet and chide Harry for being in there. His eyes fell on the brooms – their brooms. The identical Firebolts were leaning against the far wall, partially wedged between shoes and Quidditch robes. He approached them slowly, his breath coming in shallow gasps. In the back of his mind, he knew that a walk into his wife's wardrobe shouldn't affect him like this. He knelt down slowly, gently rustling the Ginny's Harpies robe. He grasped his Firebolt softly, a strangled cry stifled in his clenched mouth as he was assaulted by memory after memory.

The year they got married. Ginny had landed a smooth kiss on Harry's lips as they swirled in the sky, flying to nowhere.

After her first game. Harry had spun Ginny in the air, listening to her joyous laugh as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

The day James was born. Ginny was planting soft, teary kisses on Harry's cheek as he held James in his arms for the first time.

When they clapped eyes on their soon-to-be home. Ginny's insistent look and happy smile warmed Harry as he opened the door.

When Harry acquired his first injury during training. He bit his lip nervously as Ginny stood at the hospital door, tapping her foot in mock disappointment. The next minute, he'd been wrapped in comforting arms, soft lips taking away his pain.

The first time they took Albus and James flying. One child settled in front of each parent with a glazed expression on the face. Harry and Ginny rode side by side, their legs bumping into each other as they swerved together – so in tune, so in love.

The day she died…

Harry found himself on the floor with his teary face buried in Ginny's clothes, yearning to hold her again. He shuddered as he tried to quiet his sobs. "I miss you so much," he whimpered, hoping she answered. He was met with his own gasps. He pulled Ginny's robe to him, holding it close to his chest as he cried himself to sleep.