IV

Alex's Monday was terrible. He was tired and irritable, and he was painfully unsympathetic with the other musicians at the Academy. All he really wanted to do was sit quietly and read the journal of letters but people insisted on visiting his office.

The problem was that there was a concert coming up and the composition expected from Alexander Potter was nonexistent. Everything he tried to write just sounded wrong. He'd been working on the baby's piece for more than a month and all he had was four lines that he liked.

He had to explain himself in a lunch meeting, which irritated him even more. The piece had to be ready, so that the orchestra could learn and rehearse.

Didn't they know that music couldn't be rushed?

By the time he made it home that night, he was bone-tired. He walked through the front door and smiled at the sound of music. It wasn't Kate's live playing, but it was one of her recordings. It filled the entire house, thereby filling him with warmth.

Alex found her in the kitchen. She was surrounded by what he would term 'a complete and utter mess.' There were dirty dishes everywhere, and ingredients strewn around. He was even too afraid to ask the question.

"Hi, babe," Alex said, getting her attention.

She turned sharply and dropped an empty metal bowl in the process. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Umm... I live here."

She frowned. "What time is it?"

"Just after six o'clock," he informed her. "What on earth are you doing?"

"I'm trying to make waffles," she confessed, sighing. "But the batter's so damn lumpy, and nothing's working, and I just... I want waffles."

Apparently waffles were a Alex Potter thing. It was his DNA, surely, that had made his mother, and now his wife want waffles.

"I'll make them," Alex offered. "With fried chicken?"

She frowned. "I know you're convinced that's a match made in heaven, but I'm not."

"You don't know what you're missing," he commented, as he made his way further into the kitchen. "Scoot then," he said. "Get out of my way."

Kate shot him a look before she shuffled away from the stove. She moved to sit down at the breakfast nook and watched him. "How was work?"

Alex visibly stiffened. "Fine," he said tensely.

"Still no inspiration?"

Alex merely nodded as he cleared up some space for himself on the counter. "I'm working on it," he said. "How was your day?"

She sighed. "It was all right," she said. "I'm struggling with the timing of a particularly tricky bit. My fingers just don't go fast enough."

"Are you about to blame the pregnancy?" he asked, grinning at her as he wiped down the counter. He reached into a cupboard to retrieve a fresh bowl to start a new waffle batter.

"No," she huffed. "I just have to practice more."

"More than your usual six hours?" he teased.

"Shut up," she huffed again, looking annoyed for a moment until her face broke out into a wide smile. "Why are you being so mean to me?"

"Because I love you."

Kate gestured for him to go to her, and she kissed him soundly, holding the fabric of his shirt tightly in her fists.

She released him first. "Have you had a chance to read any letters today?" she asked.

Alex returned to preparing the waffle batter. "I haven't, no," he said. "I think it's why I've been a little antsy all day. I'm torn between wanting to read it all in one go and staggering myself, because I don't want it to end. I never want it to end, but I know that it does. Of course it does."

She took a deep breath. "I talked to Harry today," she began.

"Wait," he said, putting a hand up. "Just how often do you actually talk to my father?" he asked.

Kate laughed.

"Seriously," he said. "Do I have to be worried?"

"We are just two of the people who love you unconditionally in this world, Mr Potter. Of course we talk." She couldn't stop a yawn. "And I was just confirming dinner on Thursday."

"He's still coming?"

"Of course."

Alex felt himself relax, though he wasn't even sure why. He wondered if his father would be uncomfortable returning to this house; this house that he couldn't stand to live in alone.

"How did Sarah take the news?" he suddenly asked. "I didn't even ask, sorry. How was your brunch with the little sister monster?"

"Oh, she almost fell off her chair," she told him. "It was hilarious, and lovely, and we shared a little cry."

Alex frowned. "This whole crying this," he said, shaking his head; "I don't think I get it."

She smiled. "I don't get it either," she admitted; "but it's just what you feel sometimes. A way to show the happiness."

He blinked. "I didn't cry when you told me you were pregnant."

"Not everybody cries when they're happy, Alex."

"But you know that I was happy?" he asked. "That I am happy. Very happy."

She just nodded, choosing not to reply.

"I'm definitely terrified, but I'm excited as well."

"I know, Alex."

He nodded. "As long as you know."

Kate was worried about him. She wasn't sure that the letters were proving to be a good idea at this point. He just seemed so lost right now, and she didn't know what would happen when he did finish reading the journal.

The journal was constantly sitting in the back of Alex's mind. Straight after dinner, Kate disappeared into her practice room with Alex following her in shortly after. There was nowhere for him to sit. The room itself was completely empty, save for a single chair and Kate's cello.

Alex settled himself in the corner of the room, leaned against the wall and settled in to listen to her play. The first time she played the piece, he definitely heard the part she struggled with but he made no comment.

When she was done, she waited a beat, and then proceeded to play it again. Alex used it as license to read. Maybe he could find some inspiration from his mother.

3rd January 2005

Dear Alex

Happy New Year!

Your father and I had a great New Year. You won't even believe what he had us do. He's adventurous and so spontaneous sometimes. It's proven to be a problem from time to time, which is something I'm sure you'll figure out for yourself.

Anyway, I don't know if it was his Auror connections, or if it's because he's Harry Potter, but he was able to get an International Portkey on short notice, and we went to New York to watch the ball drop.

It was amazing. We didn't go down into the crowds because, well, anything can happen in those large crowds, but we did hover in the night sky, on his broom. We were Disillusioned, don't you worry. It wonderful and I do definitely recommend it.

When you're much older though. Much, much older.

We didn't stay in New York though. They're new year did happen AFTER ours, technically, so we came home to sleep. Your father and I are both still on leave from work until the tenth, so we've decided to use this time to work on your nursery.

Traditionally, a boy equals blue, but we're thinking of something different. I don't want to subject you to a stereotype, so we're sticking with white. White furniture, white everything. We flipped a coin for the colour of the undertones. I picked red and he picked green.

I won.

So your carpet will be red, and your walls will have red-based designs. I suspect they'll be a bit of gold thrown in as well, just because you're going to be the son of two famous Gryffindors.

There's a lot of work to do and your father's determined to do it all by himself. Call him crazy if you want - I did - but he's being incredibly stubborn about it. I had to remind him that he's not a painter, and so he conceded to some outsourcing for the intricate designs.

I think he'll get your Aunt Luna in here just to spite me.

Alex was forced to look up when Kate stopped and swore.

"I can't get it," she hissed.

He didn't know what to say and, thankfully, she continued to play before he could open his mouth. He quickly realised that she wasn't even talking to him. It was as if he wasn't even in the room. Those were musicians for you.

We're going shopping for furniture tomorrow, which is always exciting. My mum and I made a list of everything we'll need, and I think your father may just bring her along in the end. It would save us all a lot of time.

Though, I think that I'm the one who knows what you would like best. And, I'm the one who's going to be spending the most time with you anyway, so I should have a greater say in what we get for you, right? Exactly.

You WILL have a rocking chair though.

Don't you worry. I'll make sure of it.

Love,

Your Mother

Alex paused his reading to glance up at Kate. She was still playing, her eyes closed and her body stiff.

"Relax," he found himself saying.

She opened her eyes but did not stop the movement of her hands. "What?"

"You know that your body has to be relaxed," he said. She did already know it, and he was surprised that she needed reminding. "You don't need me to tell you that."

She just nodded, and then closed her eyes again, losing herself in the sound of the music.

Alex dropped his gaze and resumed his reading.

14th January 2005

Dear Alex

This, my dear, is a letter of complaint. I am so tired. Exhausted. Work was hard today. There were so many new patients and I had to attend a conference in the afternoon to explain my research into the new disease discovered in Dakar. Did I mention that I'm just so tired.

And my feet hurt, and I have a headache, and all I want right now is fried chicken and a glass of WINE. My my, do I miss my wine.

And my husband is gone.

He left last night for Lima. I didn't want him to go but there was nothing I could say. I just watched him pack his bag, and then I watched him leave. I didn't even kiss him goodbye.

I mean, every time he leaves, I may never see him again. But I was so damn stubborn and I just let him leave.

I know I can't ask him to stay. I can't ask him to stop what he's doing just because I hate having him gone and I worry like a madwoman about him. He does good work. He does great work, and it would be so selfish of me to ask him to stop.

Okay, now I'm crying.

Stupid hormones.

Don't you worry. I'm sure I'll be all right.

Love,

Your Mother

Alex could feel her frustration and, suddenly, he understood why his father resigned from his Auror duties when he did. He was away so much and, when Alex needed him, he stayed. He couldn't help feeling a bit guilty about it. His father had been a rising star, and then he gave it all up for Alex.

He wondered if his mother did end up talking to his father about all these feelings. They had to have played a part in Harry's decision to quit being an Auror, surely.

27th January 2005

Dear Alex

Your Uncle Ron just brought me some hot chocolate. It's hard not drinking coffee, and I desperately need some right now. I feel like I've been awake for days.

It's just past midnight right now, and we're at St Mungo's. Why? Because your father is an idiot. He got himself injured in Lima, and he just arrived back in Britain. We're just waiting for him to wake up now, but I've been assured that the worst is over.

I think that I might have given you a little scare when Ron came to get me. I'd had a bad feeling all week and now I know why. I don't yet know what happened exactly but, from the looks on the other Auror's faces, it was clearly bad. I'm just seeing the aftermath of his recovery from his injuries.

He could have died. I know that much. He could have died, and I hadn't even kissed him goodbye. He could have died.

I'm so mad at him, and I'm so damn emotional right now. I thought we were past all of this uncertainty; all this danger. But apparently not.

Does all of this give me license to ask him to stop?

We need him, Alex. And, if he ends up killing himself in this dangerous job, I will never forgive him. Never. I've even contemplated playing on his determination to be a good father by asking him if he wanted to leave you fatherless.

I won't. But I've thought about it. Does that make me a terrible person? It makes me feel horrible, and I quickly have to push the thought away.

The thing is that I don't know if I'm thinking it because of you, or because of me. Or because of him, really. Wouldn't it just be the biggest injustice though? He survived Voldemort, only to die as a result of some failed Auror mission. It's so stupid.

I'm sorry. I'm feeling a bit bitter right now. And I'm terrified. I don't even think that I want to be here right now. I need to go home. I'm going to go home. I should get you home. We need rest. It's not good for us sitting here like this.

Don't you worry. You will always be my number one priority.

Love,

Your Mother

Clearly, this was not a good time for his mother. For his parents.

Alex looked up to see Kate set down her cello. She removed her jersey to reveal a t-shirt underneath. It was Alex's favourite t-shirt by far. On its front, it said, 'I only date wizards.' She could wear it only inside the house, really, but he absolutely loved it.

Harry made it for her the week after Alex introduced his father to his Muggle girlfriend. Alex and Kate had both been nervous about it, and Harry did all he could to make sure that his son knew that it was okay with him. As long as Alex was happy.

Alex guessed that that was the moment that Kate fell in love with his father.

"Everything all right?" Kate asked.

"My dad got injured in the January before I was born," he explained. "My mum was, umm, feeling a lot of emotions at the time. She was worried about what she would do if anything ever happened to him. She thought it would be selfish to ask him to stop the work he was doing."

"As an Auror?"

He nodded. "It's no secret to the world that he's escaped death so many times already, but I think the fact that she was pregnant made it worse. He could have died."

Kate looked thoughtful. "It must be weird for you, reading that and hearing her voice the fears that became your dad's reality."

"They were so in love, Katie," he said, breathing out. "I'm overwhelmed by it. They were so young, and so happy, and so imperfect and perfect at the same time. The way she sees him; the way that she talks about him.

"He's always just been my dad, you know? So strong and aware and broody and attentive. And to see him the way that she saw him; he's so much more."

Kate waited for him to continue.

"He's selfless and humble, and he's always done everything for me. He's made sacrifices in his career and life, and he still thinks he wasn't enough. How can he think that? How can I allow him to think that?"

Kate didn't know if she should go to him. There were things he was working through and she wanted to help him but, right now, she didn't know how.

Alex sighed. "I have to keep reading," he eventually said, coming to the only conclusion he could.

"Okay."

He gave her a small smile, but he still looked somewhat distracted. "I love you," he said quietly, before he dropped his head. He didn't start reading until she started playing again.

5th February 2006

Dear Alex

I have a bit of a confession, and I hope you won't hate me for it. I've always wanted to be honest with you, and that isn't about to change.

I'm not ready for you.

We're not ready for you.

Tonight is supposed to be my baby shower, but I'm not feeling in a celebratory mood. I haven't seen your father since I left St Mungo's the last time I wrote. I can't bring myself to see him. I don't know what I'll end up saying to him if I do. I'm still mad at him, but I just miss him so much.

Your Uncle Ron told me that he was discharged a few days ago. I'm not at home with him, even though I desperately want to be. I don't know if you'd understand, because I don't quite understand it myself.

Things have been a little up in the air lately. I'm at home with my parents and your father hasn't tried to see me. I suspect he's still getting his strength up. His core was almost completely depleted trying to heal himself, which basically means that, if he were a Muggle, he'd be dead.

I keep thinking that I'm overreacting, but my mum assures me that I'm not. I have a right to be scared, and a right to deal with it the way that I need to. I know I have to talk to him, but I don't know how. He's finally found something that he loves to do, and I can't bring myself to take it away from him.

I can't bring myself to say the words to him that, if he loves us more, he would stop. I can't do it, but I want to, and I hate myself for it.

I handled it better before I found out about you. This is not your fault. It's mine. It's ours. We thought we were ready. I thought we were ready, but I was wrong.

I was wrong, and I'm terribly sorry that we're dragging you into all of this.

Maybe we're too young. Maybe we should have waited longer, I don't know.

We're one month away from your arrival, and the last thing I want is for you to come into a world where things are still so rocky.

So don't you worry. I'll sort this all out.

Love,

Your Mother

Alex closed his eyes for a moment. He could feel everything, and he hated it. It was so heartbreaking, really. His parents had gone through quite a bit before his arrival. All her worries, the way she wrote about them; they gave him anxiety, even twenty seven years later.

14th February 2005

Dear Alex

We're back home!

I know I said that I would sort things out, but I needn't have bothered. Your father did everything. Without my having to say so, he recognised what the problem was and fixed it.

It turns out that, even before all of this drama I caused, he already put in a request to work only local cases, which would have him work solely in Britain. It would have gone into effect as soon as you were born. He refrained from telling me until today, for some reason. Had me all worried and stressed out for nothing.

It's still a dangerous job, but it would keep him home. And plus, most wannabe dark wizards usually fail. Just the thought of the wizard who killed Voldemort searching for you is enough to instil the fear in them. It's a compromise I feel comfortable with.

He's recovered well apparently, but he still looked quite a sight when he showed up at my parents' house earlier this morning and practically demanded to see me. I didn't even realise how much I missed him until I laid eyes on him. He looks like he's aged in the time we've been apart, and he looked positively miserable.

I was sitting up on my bed when he found me, and he dropped to his knees and just stared at the both of us. I think he was shocked by how big am. Even I'm shocked by it. I mean, I can't even remember what my feet look like. For all I know, they aren't even there anymore, but your father assures me that they are.

We talked for hours. He eventually climbed onto the bed with me and he cradled us in his arms. I've never felt so safe in all my life. Did you feel it? Did you feel him come home to us?

Then we napped. I nap a lot, apparently.

When I woke up, he practically kidnapped me, clearly stating to both me and my parents: "I'm taking my wife home." It was quite amusing and adorable. And several other things, but we won't talk about that.

So here we are. You and I are back home, and your father is busy in the kitchen preparing what he termed a romantic Valentine's dinner of fried chicken and waffles. He's also wearing his ridiculous kangaroo outfit, which is hilarious.

He didn't want me out of his sight, so you and I are sitting at the breakfast nook - it's still a wonder how I got up onto this stool when I can't even put on my own shoes - in the kitchen with our Auror Extraordinaire.

While I've been away, he finished up your nursery, and it's perfect. It's a room I would want to bring you home to. It's core colour is white, as I said, and then there's the red and gold. I wasn't kidding about your being a product of true Gryffindors.

Though, don't feel any pressure to become a Gryffindor, okay? It won't break our hearts if you get Sorted into a different House, or something stupid like that. There's no pressure from us, so try not to focus on the pressure sure to come from everywhere else, all right?

It'll be hard for you, being the son of Harry Potter, but I've got a plan to shield you from most of it. I think you'd do well in a Muggle primary school until you're old enough for Hogwarts. Anything magical you need to know, your father and I can handle. We're both pretty clued in with that whole part of our lives.

I also intend to expose you to Muggle things. I think I talked about making sure you explored the Arts and Music of the Muggle world. I want you to be fully assimilated to both worlds, because you are, essentially, a product of both worlds, and it's important to me that you don't stray to far from either one.

I just told him all of this, and he nodded without commenting. There he goes again with the whole giving me everything I want thing. Oh, don't you just love him?

And I've also just told him what this journal really is. He seemed pleasantly surprised, and he asked if I write about him.

If only he knew... He'd probably have a heart attack if he knew just how much I've already told you. He hates it when the focus is on him, but he's so cute when you embarrass him. His cheeks go pink and he forgets how to speak. Sometimes he just says 'shut up' repeatedly, which is hilarious.

I do it on purpose more often I should. I'm sure you'll end up doing the same.

Don't you worry. It'll be our little secret.

Love,

Your Mother

Alex was quick to make a vow to himself to increase the number of times he embarrassed his father. Just to honour his mother. He couldn't help the smile on his face.

"What has you smiling like that?" Kate asked, interrupting Alex's thoughts.

"Have you ever noticed what happens to my Dad when he's embarrassed?" he asked, his smile only growing.

"If you're referring to his pink cheeks and the fact that he turns into a mumbling mess, then yes."

Alex laughed. "My mum loved to embarrass him because of it."

"I can imagine why that was," Kate said, returning his smile. "It's rather funny, really. I mean, he's supposed to be this super stoic leader of men and what not, and he can barely handle a compliment."

"Leader of men, huh?"

Kate shrugged. "He's a War veteran, and he's trained every single Auror to come out of that Academy since you were six years old. Leader of men."

Leader of men. It was true. On top of being Alex's father, Harry Potter was, somewhat single-handedly, responsible for the calibre of Aurors being produced by the Auror Academy. It made Alex feel incredibly proud.

His father only went back to work when Alex started primary school. Alex attended a Muggle school as his mother wanted, and all the magical learning he required came from his father. It wasn't exactly normal, especially given that he was the Chosen One's son, but the situation offered him anonymity.

It was also at Muggle school that Alex first learned to play the piano. As a child, he'd always felt somewhat connected to the piano in their house, and he never did understand his father's reaction when he asked if he could take lessons. All Harry had done was nod and then excuse himself.

Now, Alex suspected that his father might have left the room to cry, but he didn't want his son to see him. For years, and even now, Harry Potter protected his son from the pain of the tragic loss from which he would never recover.

"I once asked him if he was disappointed that I didn't follow him into the Auror Corps, you know?" Alex said. "He wasn't."

"I could have told you that."

Alex let out a light laugh. "He told me that part of the reason he became an Auror was to emulate his father. He didn't regret his decision, but he knew he did it for the wrong reasons. He didn't want me feel obliged to do the same as him, but I think he knew that I followed music to emulate my mother."

"Do you regret it?"

"No."

"Your dad loved his job," Kate said. "You love yours. If it came down to it; if you were ever forced to give up your job for me, or for our baby, would you?"

"In a heartbeat."

"Your dad taught you that," she gently said.

He chuckled. "Seriously, how often do you talk to him? It's okay. You can tell me."

Kate just smiled at him before resuming her playing position, and starting her piece again.

Alex watched her for a moment, before he returned his attention to the journal.

1st March 2005

Dear Alex

It's officially March, which means that it's officially your birthday month.

Today also happens to be your Uncle Ron's birthday. Your father and I are going to head to the Burrow later tonight for a little dinner party. Molly insists on holding all family birthdays at the family home, and none of us has plans to say otherwise.

To be honest, I'm not that keen on going anywhere tonight - or until you're born. I just feel so big and fat and ugly. And my feet are swollen. I'm big enough to pop, I reckon. Are you ready to come out of there? Because I'm ready to have you out. I'd like to see my feet and stand up and sit down without requiring a five-step procedure.

I don't think I mean it though. I think I'll miss being pregnant. It's been nice constantly having you with me. Like this, I get to keep you safe; I can protect you. But once you're out here, my job gets a lot more difficult.

I always thought that nine months was such a long time, but it's just flown by. You're going to be here soon, and we'll officially become parents. That's going to be a huge change for us. My mum is going to stay with us for the first few weeks, just to help us adjust, and to make sure that we get sleep.

Your father had me prepare a hospital bag last night. Well, really, I sat on our bed and just pointed to things as he packed the bag. It's really out of character for him to be so prepared. He wasn't impressed when I mentioned that to him.

Dr Mess is on call from now on. We picked out your coming-home outfit, which is not your kangaroo outfit, in case you're wondering. Your room is also waiting for you. So, really, whenever you want out of there, we're ready for you.

I'm ready for you now.

I'm sorry about our little crisis. I think it was something we needed to go through to get to this point. I've already gone on maternal leave and your father gets off as soon as I go into labour.

Can you believe that the Daily Prophet has started something of a countdown. They don't know your exact due date but, given my size, they've managed to guess. They're sure that it's any day now. As am I.

I just have a feeling.

I had this thought the other day. I'd just dreamt of going into labour, which I'm a little afraid of, if I'm being honest. Your father and I have attended the necessary classes but I'm sure that it's all going to go the dogs when we actually get in there. So my thought was, you know, seeing as you ARE Harry Potter's son, don't you just want to Apparate out of there? It would save us all a lot of trouble.

I'm kidding. Sort of. I know it's going to hurt. I'm definitely no stranger to pain but, you know, I'm not sure I believe people who say that giving birth is a beautiful thing.

We'll see how much I love you once I have to push you out of, umm, there.

Don't you worry. I really am kidding. Sort of.

Love,

Your Mother

Alex let out a laugh.

Kate glanced at him, her playing coming to a gentle stop. "What?"

"How do you feel about actually having to give birth?" he asked.

She tilted her head. "Well, one of us has to do it," she teased. "And I'm afraid you don't have the right parts for the job."

"Funny."

She grinned at him. "Why are you asking?"

"She was a bit worried about it," he told her. "The process of it."

"Understandable."

He smiled. "I think I've reached the last letter before my birth," he said. "I don't know if she wrote much after that." He absently paged through the journal, relieved to see more writing, but not as much as he hoped.

"You must have been a handful."

He faked a laugh.

"Maybe we should call it a night then?" she offered. "Will you come to bed with me, Mr Potter?"

He cocked his head to the side. "I'm sorry, but I'm married."

She laughed out loud. "Funny."

Alex stood up, tucked the journal under his arm and moved towards her. He helped her with the cello and carefully sealed it in its case.

Together, they left the room and went about getting ready to turn in for the night. Alex did the usual checks on all the house doors and windows before retiring to bed. Kate wasn't asleep yet, so she snuggled in nice and close to him when he climbed in beside her.

Without giving it a thought, Alex's hand came to rest on her abdomen.

"Katie?" he whispered.

"Hmm?"

"Do you feel safe?"

"I do," she said truthfully. "As long as I'm with you, I do."

"Don't you worry," he said, his breath warm against her skin. "I'll always be here. For both of you."