All was not well with Harry Potter.

After both Albus and James had gone off the rails during their teenage years, he rather felt inept as a father and Ginny's advice never seemed to help. He didn't bother asking Hermione and Ron, they had their hands full with their own children.

Sure, after the whole 'cursed child' adventure, he had began to feel closer with his younger son, but that relationship seemed to be falling apart again, especially after Lily and James started having their own adventures. While neither of them had bested Albus and Scorpius on time travel as of yet, it was only a matter of time.

Hence, the whole 'becoming the Master of Death' thing. It was embarrassing what being a father of three teenagers drove you to.

What Harry needed was some advice. Good, solid, parenting advice. Harry couldn't think of anyone better to ask than his own parents. Okay, well... maybe he could. There was the Weasleys after all, they'd had loads of children and then there was Luna, who (despite being Luna) had been a fantastic mother to her children. Neville, also was no stranger to taking care of children, what with being a professor of Hogwarts and all.

No, perhaps it was all an excuse. It was possible that he was having a mid-life crisis. Or perhaps he was just growing to old to deal with the damnable Potter-luck.

Sitting on his desk of his study were the two pieces of the Elder Wand. (It could stay broken, Harry didn't really want it anyway.) Next to it lay the old Gaunt ring, Grindelwald's mark carved into its surface. Across the back of his chair, the Cloak of Invisibility rested, recently confiscated after James' adventure last term (after Albus got hold of the illegal time turner, both of his siblings also seemed to inherit the improbable Potter-luck in full force).

Placing the ring upon his finger, Harry twisted it three times. Once again, Harry thought about how crazy this all was. Why was he doing this? He knew he was struggling with life after the war, but to resort to using the Deathly Hallows? Still, the irrational part of him that never wanted all this responsibility pushed him forwards.

Harry closed his eyes and thought of those he loved.

His mother was the first to appear, her spectre gently sitting at the edge of his desk. His father materialised soon after, a hand on his wife's shoulder. Sirius stood behind them grinning wildly, while Lupin and Tonks stood hand-in-hand to one side, by the door.

"Harry." Her eyes were filled with love, yet her voice was confused. He wasn't supposed to bring them back.

Harry felt guilt, but no regret when he met her gaze. "Mum" he replied.

"Why are we here, Harry?" James fixed his bespectacled gaze upon his son. Sirius was no longer grinning behind him.

Lowering his eyes, Harry desperately tried to come up with an answer. "I don't know what to say."

From the corner, Lupin frowned. However, Sirius cut in before he could speak. "What do you mean, Harry? What's wrong?"

Placing a hand across his face, Harry absent-mindedly rubbed his scar, a nervous gesture that he had never been able to get rid of.

"Everything."

"Everything?" His mother's disbelief was a physical thing.

"Everything's gone wrong." Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I've tried to make things better, to help my family, but nothing ever seems to work. Blood-prejudice is still a thing, my children keep getting drawn into deadly situations and no matter what I seem to do I'm tired. I'm so tired of it all."

Lily leaned forwards across the desk, her own spectral hand stopping to lay above his own. "You are doing the best you can, Harry."

Somehow, those words infuriated instead of soothed Harry. Why was his best never enough? Why was he never allowed to be happy or left in peace? Why was there always another disaster to solve? "What would you know about family? All you did was die for it. The difficult part is trying to live with it!"

"That's enough!" James bellowed. Harry wasn't sure how much of it that he'd said aloud. He wasn't sure he cared.

Lily had removed her hand from his. Harry placed his hand onto the desk.

"I'm sorry." He apologised, barely able to meet his mother's eyes. "You know I wish your sacrifice had never been necessary."

The splinters of the Elder Wand dug into his hand. Harry's vision started to sway to the alarm of the spectres gathered and Harry himself began to take on a spectre-like appearance, before disappearing entirely.