I forgot to give a special thank you to HonorverseFan and another friend of mine for the help.
The once beautiful halls of Hogwarts were destroyed, pieces of debris everywhere, students panicking and teachers running, trying their best to protect the students. Suddenly, the voice of Voldemort echoed throughout the destroyed school, "Harry Potter! You should be dead! How are you still alive, boy?!"
"It's simple Tom, the wand can't kill its master." Harry's voice was cold and condescending, as if speaking to a small child.
Harry was about to deliver the final blow until…
"What happened next papa?" Émilie, eldest daughter of the Potter house excitedly inquired, eager to hear the rest of the tale.
The 21-year-old Harry Potter sighed slowly, breath shallow. With a nervous laugh, he responded, "I don't think either of you is ready for that yet, don't worry, one day I'll tell you."
Harry, the youngest son of the Potter family whinged, "But papa! You never tell what happened afterwards, we really want to know what happened!"
"With behaviour like that, you're never going to hear the end of the story," their father replied mirthfully, a slight grin on his face.
"Shut up!" Émilie hissed, irritated with her brother due to his interruption.
Harry, of course, wasn't going to allow his little girl to speak so cruelly to her brother and cut in sharply, "Hey!" Both siblings couldn't help but jump fearfully, they both looked at their father, who, while blind, could still instil fear in them. "Don't speak to your brother like that."
"Sorry," Émilie mumbled to herself, abashed.
"It's okay," Harry replied quietly. Both children turned to their father, to see him smile approvingly.
"Good." Harry chuckled, until he heard the chiming of the grandfather clock. He turned 45 to the right and said, "Well, looks like we ran out of time. We will continue this in the morning, now, off to bed with you lot!"
Émilie and Harry quickly made their way to their rooms, semi-disappointed.
"It doesn't get easier does it?" Harry asked no one in particular, just as he heard footsteps from behind him.
"No, it doesn't, my love." His wife, Fleur's voice was soft, kind as she reached him.
Harry felt his wife's arms wrap around his chest from behind and felt the familiar weight of her chin on his left shoulder; her warm breath made him feel at ease.
"I will have to tell them eventually, I don't think I'll be able to do it alone," Harry whispered dejectedly.
"Mon cœur," Fleur muttered to herself, "you never have to do things alone, I would think our marriage vows said that explicitly."
Quietly, he responds, "I remember, what a beautiful Christmas that was, I think that was the drunkest moment of our lives."
Fleur Delacour-Potter vividly remembered the day of their marriage because of Harry drinking at least a pint of fire whiskey, Ron trying to flirt with her one more time, and Hermione kicking his ass. Good times.
A comfortable silence came over the duo, Only for it to be broken by a question from Harry, "Sweetness, remember the day we went to receive my chair?"
"How can I forget?" Fleur smiled as they reminisced.
It was 1997, four days after the battle, everyone around Harry at the time was panicking due to not being able to help. What did he need help with? Everything, ever since the battle, he couldn't see, or feel anything below the waist. It happened just before the final collision, Voldemort struck Harry with an unknown curse.
They both shook off that memory, instead, they just held each other until Fleur hummed a familiar tune. The slow melody caused Harry to sing unknowingly.
"Wise men say, only fools rush in…"
"But I can't help falling in love with you." Fleur followed shortly after.
Their voices melded in harmony, "Shall I stay? Would it be a sin? If I can't help falling in with you…"
They couldn't help but chuckle in unison, "We still got it," they said together.
Fleur wistfully sighed, "I love that this is our song."
"Me too, sweetness, ready for bed?"
"Oui, mon cœur," Fleur smiled lovingly, taking a few steps to join him on his left side. She intertwined her fingers as he powered on his chair and made their way to bed