This is a shorter chapter, but I really wanted to include it anyways, so here we go:

His eyes furrowed, Harry sat hunched on his bed staring at the blob of yarn that refused, for the fifth time, to turn into anything useful. He had followed all of Hermione's instructions, but it simply would not cooperate. By his seventh attempt, he had managed to create a roughly rectangular strip of crochet, so he decided to add little tassels on the ends by hand, having already grown far too frustrated by using his wand. After wrapping it as best he could in paper, he collapsed into his bed and instantly fell asleep.

"Well of course you're scared, Harry!" Sirius whispered in the darkness of the kitchen at Grimmauld Place, careful not to awake the others. "In fact, I'm glad you're scared."

"What- Why?"

"It means you're human. Voldemort is growing stronger and we're on the edge of a war where, like it or not, you will probably be forced to play a part in. How could you not be scared?"

"But, I'm a gryffindor! I'm supposed to be brave!"

"You're incredibly brave. You know what's coming and you're still here, ready to fight instead of running or hiding. There's a difference between courage and reckless stupidity, Harry- a line that your father walked very carefully." Harry looked down at his hands and paused.

"Was he scared too?" he whispered.

"We all were. James, Lily, Remus, me, all of us. We were just kids fighting in a war that was much bigger than ourselves, not unlike you," he finished kindly. "Now, I insist that you try to go back to bed now. At least get some rest, okay?" Harry nodded and followed Sirius out of the kitchen door towards the stairs.

Suddenly a green light flashed across the scene and Sirius had fallen through the doorway and vanished from sight.

Harry's eyes snapped open and he shook his head to clear himself of the vivid images swirling in his thoughts. He took deep and calming breaths to slow his thumping heart and looked across the room to see Ron and Hermione just starting to stir in the morning's pale glow.

"Mornin'," Ron yawned in his general direction. He had an impressive bedhead that could be rivaled only by Harry's. Harry grunted in return, his eyes downcast, and they groggily began their morning routine.

"Happy Father's Day, Dad!" Ron said cheerfully. Mr. Weasley looked up from his mug of tea with a large grin and wrapped an arm around his youngest son who gave him a kiss on the cheek. Ron dropped a handmade card in front of him before sitting in between him and Hermione. Hermione wished him a happy father's day too and forced a smile to her lips, but her happy facade slipped the moment Arthur looked away. She clung to her warm mug and took a shaky breath while staring into the cup's depths, desperately trying not to think of her own father.

Harry didn't notice Hermione's odd behavior because he was busy acting strange himself. He was sitting across from Mr. Weasley, fidgeting in his seat as George and Ginny both joined them at the table after dropping their own cards in front of their Dad. Mrs. Weasley found herself an open seat and started to spread jam across her toast before passing the jar along the table. When they had all eaten and Ginny stood to begin washing her plate, Harry sucked in his breath and decided to just do it. Get it over with and see what happens.

"Er…," he said awkwardly, "Happy Father's Day, Mr. Weasley." Arthur looked up at him warmly, having just set down his fork.

"Why thank you, Harry," he said smiling and radiating joy.

"I got you a little something," he continued. Mr. Weasley's eyes widened to the size of galleons as Harry rose his wand and a striped package came zooming down the stairs and into Harry's hand.

"Here," Harry slid the poorly wrapped gift across the table towards him and Mrs. Weasley's eyes turned to those that could rival a puppy dog's. Her hands were placed one over the other, covering her heart and she looked between Harry and her husband adoringly. Mr. Weasley tore open the paper and dropped it unceremoniously onto the table beside him. Ron was looking over his shoulder, clearly confused, and Harry watched Mr. Weasley, anxiously looking for any detectable response.

"Is this a battery powered car!?" Mr. Weasley cried, as excited as a five-year-old on Christmas morning.

"Yeah. It's a remote control car. You use the toggles to drive it around. I can show you how if you want," Harry said, relieved that his gift had been well-received.

"Magnificent! This is remarkable! Thank you Harry!" He eagerly inspected every side to the box, his face glowing in excitement.

"Of course. I'm glad you like it," Harry responded genuinely. He watched Mr. Weasley with a grin and held back a laugh when Ginny and George both squinted in confusion over his shoulder, much like Ron had. He met Hermione's gaze and she smiled faintly, knowing they were both amused at the reception that a toy could have.

"And, er…," Harry said, bringing the attention back to him as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I know that we missed Mother's Day last month 'cause of… everything, so here." He flicked his wand again and a second lumpy package soared down from the stairs. "Happy Mother's Day, Mrs. Weasley." She took the package with a watery smile and brought Harry into a bone crushing hug before she had even opened it.

"Thank you, Harry," she whispered into his ear. Wiping her eyes quickly, she opened the wrapping paper carefully and pulled out the peach colored scarf. She held it out in front of her and before she could say anything, Harry interrupted.

"I wanted to make you a jumper, like you always make for us, but I couldn't really get it down, so I just made a scarf instead. I know it's nowhere near as good as yours, but..." he bit his lip in apprehension, not really sure how to end his rambling. Mrs. Weasley placed it around her neck and pulled Harry into another hug.

"I love it, Harry. Thank you." Finding his courage from somewhere, Harry looked her right in the eyes.

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley. For everything." He turned towards Mr. Weasley who had looked up from his new toy to watch her open her gift. "You too, Mr. Weasley."

"It's our pleasure, Harry," Mr. Weasley responded for the both of them. Mrs. Weasley seemed unable to speak because tears continued to fall silently down her cheeks.

"I hope those are happy tears?" Harry asked cautiously. She laughed and nodded before pulling him in for a third hug and then taking her plate up to the sink, still wearing her new scarf. Mr. Weasley stood and joined her, still wearing a warm smile.

"Thanks a lot, mate. Way to raise their expectations," Ron said grumpily, slouched in his seat.

"I've never done anything for them before!" Harry defended himself.

"Still." Hermione remained uninterested in their pointless bickering, and at the sight of her slumped figure, they both fell silent at once.

"I'm sure Kingsley will find your parents soon, Hermione," Harry said quietly.

"And how do you know that?" she snapped.

"He said he would," he replied simply. He stood and began to carry his plate up to the sink and let Ron comfort her. He seemed to be better at it anyhow.

"I get how you feel, 'Mione. But-," Ron started.

"No you don't."

"Yes I do," Harry snapped back indignantly, turning suddenly. He regretted his intrusion immediately, but Hermione's stone-like expression softened considerably. After running a hand through his hair and muttering an apology that he was sure no one could hear anyways, Harry continued walking into the kitchen to give them space. A heavy stone seemed lodged in his throat as a new wave of sadness crashed over him, dousing the joy that had burned just minutes before.

"Harry! Can you come here? Dad can't figure this car thing out!" Ginny called from the living room. With a deep breath, he plastered a smile back onto his face and ignored the emptiness that had crept inside him that he knew was impossible to fill.