The day was warm, Harry kept forgetting that it was summer. Somehow with all the darkness clouding all the people he loved it seemed inappropriate for the sun to be out, for the sky to be blue, for the air to be dry and inviting. He walked with Ginny on the beach, enjoying the cool sea breeze and the tang of salt tickling his nose.
"Ok, ok next challenge. This time you have to find a perfectly round one, an exact sphere," Ginny was giddy with forgetfulness, tied up in a childhood game they had only just discovered. The two had searched for pebbles for hours, one with a hole all the way through, one which was completely flat, one with the sharpest edge... at one point Harry had tried to cheat, using a summoning charm to find one that was completely black, a charm that Ginny had had to interrupt as dozens of obsidian rocks pelted them from all directions.
"What do I get if I win?" he asked.
"This game doesn't work on a rewards basis," Ginny frowned.
"Well then," Harry sighed, snatching Ginny's hand and pulling her into him, "it's a stupid game." He tried to kiss her but she ducked back.
"You didn't seem to think so when you found one shaped like an egg." Harry laughed and tried to catch her on the mouth again but she twisted out of his grasp.
"A perfectly round one, remember? Bet I can find it first."
Harry harrumphed and stooped down, trying to find her pebble. It had been like this since they got here. Ginny needed Harry, needed his arms around her, his lips on her cheek and the tip of her nose, but she tended to recoil when he kissed her, she didn't want him like he needed her. Not now.
"Give her time," Hermione had said, when Harry had finally confided in her. He knew it was usually a subject of 'guy talk', but when the only other two guys in the house were your girlfriend's older brothers the field of what can be said becomes incredibly limited.
"I know, it's just she's always there and she's always so close. It's driving me mental." Hermione sighed.
"How do you think I feel? Ron's barely touched me since the Funeral," they referred to the Funeral with a capital 'f', the collected affair that had seen the burial of all the corpses at Hogwarts, student, auror and death eater alike, "They're different to us Harry, we're used to living without families, family's all the Weasleys have ever had. Now there's a whole chunk missing, and they're just trying to cope."
Harry nodded, "Why are you always right?" Hermione rested her head on his shoulder and laughed.
"I wish I weren't."
Ginny found the pebble first, of course. "It's not fair," Harry protested, "my eyesight's impaired."
"Shut up you bowtruckle, you're wearing your glasses." Harry chuckled.
"I guess that means you win something then," he conceded, "anything you want..."
"Harry don't, please," Ginny said, as if she knew. He acted wounded, even though he knew playing innocent would get him nowhere.
"What, Gin?"
"Don't make me feel bad for this, ok. I just can't now, I want to but I can't." She threw herself on the ground, amid the pebbles of the beach. Slowly, and at a safe distance away, Harry settled next to her. He didn't want her to feel pressure, but he didn't want to let the subject go again. It was like a dream that kept escaping, once it was gone who knew how long it would be until it returned.
"But if you want to..." he began, watching as Ginny squinted her eyes shut at the sound of his voice. She was biting back tears. The wind carried her scent to him, honeysuckle and chocolate milk, "then what's stopping you?"
"It feels wrong," she admitted. Harry searched her eyes in confusion, waiting for her to go on. She didn't speak.
"Are you scared?"
"A little, not really. I want to be with you it's just..." They hadn't noticed themselves leaning in. By the time Ginny was speaking now, her forehead was resting against Harry's and the smell of her was leaving him dizzy. His hands ached and he dug them into the ground, trying to shake them of the need to reach out to her, grab great fistfuls of her and lose himself in her breathlessness.
"Just what?" Harry asked. They had forgotten themselves, minutes had passed, she was speaking against his lips.
"I'm just so happy with you. It feels so wrong to be happy like this..."
The words ran through them like stunning spells. They fell backwards into the beach, thrown by the weight of shared guilt and grief, shaking like autumn leaves tossed from trees by a harsh wind. Ginny found Harry's shirt and clutched at it, steadying herself. He locked his arms around her even when she tried to pull away as the tears took over.
"I miss them," she sobbed.
"I know," he replied, "but you've got to live, Gin. We've got to live if they can't."
Ginny trembled like a violin note in his arms. "I don't want to," she said in her smallest voice, "sometimes I don't want to."
Harry held his gurgling godson in his arms and thought about what Ginny had said. He knew exactly how she felt, he understood all of it. Afraid to be happy, afraid to never be happy again, afraid to die but afraid to live. He gazed at little Teddy in his arms and wondered what it would be like to be so innocent, so fragile and trusting of the world around you. He wondered what it was like to be held by his father. Neither of them would ever know.
Teddy giggled and blinked, his eyes glazing over with Evans green. Harry was taken aback by the accuracy of the child. Did his eyes really look so sad?
Shaken by the image of himself, Harry quickly thrust Teddy back into his cot, by the picture of his parents, where he took on the appearance of his father once again.
"Terrifying isn't it? He has no idea he's showing you exactly what you don't want to see." Andromeda Tonks stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame. Harry gave her a small smile.
"It's just a little odd. We don't keep mirrors in Ivy House. George..."
"I know," Andromeda cut him off, sparing him the explanation. "Sometimes it hurts to look at Teddy too. He can look so much like his mother when he wants to. And his grandfather."
Harry nodded, picking Teddy up again. Again, the boy's face changed to mirror him. This time, he tried not to flinch. He told himself that he came to the Tonks' to be an adult, to take care of a like soul, another child orphaned by this war. In truth, he came to feel like a child, to feel Andromeda's gaze on him like a chiding professor or a kindly aunt.
Teddy broke the silence first, his little face contorting into something like discomfort as he prepared himself to scream.
"Oh no, I know that look," Andromeda warned, taking the infant from Harry and hoisting him onto her shoulder, "this one needs food. Stat. Harry, do you mind warming up the formula?"
Teddy suckled milk from his bottle as Harry sipped at a butterbeer and Andromeda a fragrant pink tea.
"Well go on then, Harry, why'd you come?" Harry took another pensive sip, cheeking the liquid and draining it bit by bit, savouring the sweetness at the corner of his tongue.
"Wanted to see that monster," he confessed, "just remind myself what I'm still doing here."
"Is it as bad as that?" she asked. Andromeda always knew how to ask the right questions. Harry could see why Sirius had loved her. She had all the gentleness of a mother without the judgement, but more wisdom than an older sister. She reminded Harry of Ginny during her better moments.
"Sometimes," he confessed, taking another swig. "I thought once Voldemort was gone the world would stop being afraid. But everyone..." Harry checked himself before the blame started, "It's like we all just went out and found something new to be scared of."
"Harry, darling," Andromeda slid a hand across the kitchen table to place over Harry's comfortingly, "we're only human. We never stop being afraid."
"I can't move on."
"Nobody's asking you to yet. But eventually, when the time is right, it's ok. We're not forgetting them by making new memories. We're honouring them."
"I s'pose."
"That's the spirit," her tone was sardonic. "Anyways, I hear this one may even get to study at Hogwarts when he's old enough."
"Yeah, I uh, I think McGonagall's taking it over now? That's what Hermione reckons anyway."
"Then the school's in safe hands," Andromeda decided with a confident nod. Teddy cooed and giggled in agreement, and for once Harry felt a genuine smile slide across his face.