It wasn't always easy for Harry Potter to leave work at the office, but he'd learned enough about meditation and living in the moment from Hermione over the years to give Ginny and the children his undivided attention. They deserved it. He still rolled his eyes over "here and now" techniques, yet couldn't deny the practice had helped him be a better husband and father, picking up emotional cues he would've otherwise missed. The only downside to enhanced awareness was its all-encompassing nature. He had to examine his own thoughts and feelings.

Ginny's "ahem" reminded Harry that at this particular family dinner, he needed to anchor his thoughts, not let them drift away. He said, "If you're imitating Umbridge, I must have really zoned out. Sorry."

She took his hand and rubbed her thumb back and forth across his skin. "I was about to give you detention."

Her sultry tone brought a smile to Harry's face. She had a gift for taking the sting from bad memories.

Across the table from his mother, Albus groaned. "Stop, please, I'm trying to eat." He jabbed a chunk of roasted potato and stuffed it into his mouth.

Ginny kept her gaze on Harry. "Deep down, you know that you deserve to be punished. Don't you, Mr. Potter?"

An image of Ginny in skin-tight black leather popped into Harry's mind.

She winked as if she knew what he was thinking and said, "Instead of lines, you can help Kreacher do the washing up."

Harry chuckled. "Gladly." He turned to Albus, who hunched his shoulders, looking cornered. With Lily finishing her seventh year and James in Puddlemere during the Quidditch season, Albus was the sole focus of parental attention at dinner—something, as a middle child, he usually enjoyed. Harry asked, "How was Auror training today?"

"Who told you?"

"No one said anything." Harry watched relief wash across his son's face. "Why did you think someone would?"

Ginny asked jokingly, "Did you use my Bat-Bogey Hex on someone?"

Albus smiled a little. "Nothing like that." He shrugged. "The Head of Forensics and Potions needed an assistant for the day and asked for me."

"Of course he did," Ginny said. "You received top marks in Potions. He'd be a fool to ask for anyone else."

"Did you enjoy working for Blofeld?" Harry asked. Edmund Blofeld had earned his nickname The Crow for his sharp black eyes and beak of a nose, but the Potions Master and forensic pathologist was also known for collecting bright minds for his division within the Auror Department.

"Yeah."

Wistful voice. Glum face. "He invited you to become his apprentice."

Albus's how did you know expression hadn't changed since he was a toddler. "I didn't say I'd do it," he muttered.

"But you're considering it," Harry said.

"Fat lot of good that would do me." Albus pushed his chair back and stood. "May I be excused?"

"No, you may not!" Ginny shot to her feet. "You will stay and explain why you're upset."

Albus, normally their most even-tempered child, snapped, "Why? What I want doesn't matter."

Harry stood and approached his son. "I'm sorry you feel that way. Your mother and I only want your happiness."

"If I'm happy following in your footsteps."

The anger, guilt, and misery in Albus's voice brought a lump to Harry's throat. All the well-meaning like father/like son comments made by everyone from family to fellow Aurors over the years had given Albus the wrong impression. "I don't expect you to head the Auror Department one day."

"You don't?" Albus's tone was sceptical, but green eyes that had thankfully inherited Ginny's perfect vision gleamed with hope.

Harry shook his head. "I've already promised Teddy the job."

Albus burst out laughing and hugged Harry like he'd received his first racing broom.

"I want in on that action," Ginny said, hurrying around the table. "C'mon, Kreacher, group hug!" She threw her arms around Harry and Albus and pulled Kreacher into the circle when he left his den. She gave each of them a smacking kiss on the cheek. "This calls for champagne!"

"What is the occasion?" Kreacher asked, smiling with affection Harry wouldn't have believed possible back when Sirius was the house-elf's master.

"Albus is going to be a Potions Master's apprentice." Ginny smirked. "And perhaps the future Headmaster of Hogwarts if he takes after both his namesakes."

Albus grimaced. "Head of Forensics and Potions one day will be enough for me."

.

After they'd raised a toast to Albus's future, Harry assisted Kreacher with the washing up while Albus bolted upstairs to owl Blofeld and Ginny went to her study to finish her latest Quidditch article for The Daily Prophet. Harry tapped on the study door on his way upstairs and was told, "Fifteen minutes!"

He climbed the stairs to their room and opened a bedside table drawer, lifting out the book Dennis Creevey had given him years ago as a Father's Day gift: Professor Doom and Son. As the creator of Wizard Comics, Dennis had thought to make his friend laugh with a book of comics portraying a Severus Snape inspired Professor Doom parenting his adopted son, Super Wizard, drawn to resemble a four-year-old Harry Potter.

The click of the door handle sent Harry into cover-up mode. He tossed the book into the drawer and slammed it shut. Unfortunately, he still had his hand on the drawer pull when Ginny strolled into the bedroom.

She put her hands on her hips. "You found it, didn't you?"

"Found what?"

"The latest book." When he stared at her blankly, Ginny heaved a sigh. "The romance novels Luna calls fan fiction because the hero is portrayed as a green-eyed Auror with messy hair and glasses and the heroine is a redheaded Quidditch player or sports writer from a large family. Whenever she's on a book tour, Luna scans the romance shelves and sends me her latest find."

Harry remembered telling Ginny that accepting the books was encouraging writers to continue using them as characters in embarrassing fiction. "Why do you read that stuff?"

"It's fun and sometimes sexy, as you probably read for yourself." She started unbuttoning her blouse. "Tell me what you liked."

He removed Professor Doom and Son from the drawer and held it out. "I was reading this."

"Oh." She sat next to him on the side of the bed. "Why didn't you want me to see it?"

It was hard to put into words. "Keep unbuttoning your shirt and I'll tell you." The expanding view of bare skin was inspiring. "I was thinking about Sirius."

Ginny dropped her shirt on the floor and ran a hand across the title. "Dennis would make a comic about a boy and his Animagus dog if you asked."

"He tried once," Harry said. "It was too sad." He returned the book to the drawer. "The novel Luna sent. What was so sexy about it?"

Ginny hopped off the bed and stepped out of reach. "Don't try to distract me. You said you were thinking about Sirius."

Harry stripped off his t-shirt. "And now I'm thinking about that romance novel. What would I like about it?"

She regarded him in unnerving stillness for a moment and then discarded her trousers. "Luna said it's part of a popular trend right now—alpha heroes. They're strong, protective, and dominant in the bedroom." She deepened her voice and ordered playfully, "On the bed. Now."

He swallowed hard. "You wouldn't like that." They were equal partners in all things.

"Every now and then I might." She gave him a heated look that was invitation and challenge.

"Get on the bed," Harry said roughly. "Now."

.

His dominance triggered her alpha female tendencies, which suited them both. Harry half-expected Ginny to ask about Sirius afterward, but she didn't bring up the subject again that night or in the weeks that followed. Harry told himself he was relieved that amazing sex, work and owling Lily daily care packages to relieve the stress of upcoming N.E.W.T.s made Ginny forget his brooding over the past and what might have been. What could she have said, anyway? She was sorry he hadn't had the chance to grow up with Sirius as his adopted father? So was he, but there was nothing either of them could do about it.

Harry concentrated on appreciating all the good things in his life. Albus was over the moon about his new job, James had broken a team record for most goals scored in a single match, and Lily sailed through N.E.W.T.s, receiving enough high marks to qualify for Auror training or a Ministry job if she chose.

The day of the graduation party at the Burrow for Lily and Hugo was balmy for June and sunny, without a cloud in the sky. Friends and family gathered in the back garden. Harry enjoyed the food and company, talking to everyone and thanking guests for coming. When the others moved toward the paddock in the orchard beyond the garden to play Quidditch, he approached the boyish looking man who remained at a picnic table, writing in a book.

Dennis Creevey glanced up when Harry sat down on the bench. "You're not playing Seeker?" His mild interest was so different from Colin's avid hero-worship. It was one of the reasons Harry liked him so much.

"Ginny won the coin toss to go against Lily."

Dennis fished a Galleon out of his jeans pocket and placed it on the table. "I have a confession to make. The contest was rigged."

The Galleon had a familiar worn spot on the edge. "Why?"

"She thought you should receive this in private." Dennis slid the book along the table top and Harry read the words inside the front cover.

Happy Father's Day, Harry

Harry closed the book and stared at the drawing of a handsome wizard and young, spiky-haired boy. His gaze lingered on the title: Sirius Black and Son. "Ginny asked you to do this?"

Dennis fidgeted on the bench. "Yes, but, I, uh, had most of it done already. When I get an idea in my head, I have to draw it."

Harry nodded as he turned pages to reach the first cartoon: a doll house view of Grimmauld Place. Up in the crowded attic, a grinning Little Harry crouched between two trunks. Down on the ground floor, Sirius stood in the entrance hall. A thought bubble read: He might have crawled into the airing cupboard to hide, but I mustn't get my hopes up.

A chuckle burst from Harry's throat. "Sirius said that about Kreacher." His amusement faded. Instead of "to hide," Sirius had said, "and died."

The next cartoon sprawled across two pages. In the first panel, Sirius stood next to a display of fruit at McGregor's Market with a cantaloupe in each hand. To the wizard's left, Severus Snape clutched a bag of lemons, sneering as Little Harry tugged the sleeve of Sirius's leather jacket, pointing at Snape, asking, "Is he a bad man?"

In the second panel, Sirius handed a cantaloupe to Harry. "We've all got both light and dark inside us. What matters is the part we choose to act on. That's who we really are."

The last panel showed Little Harry carrying the melon to the till counter while in the background, Snape tripped and Sirius smirked, wand in hand.

Harry sighed. "Both of them hated the people who mistreated them, yet they mistreated others."

"Wonder if they're mates now beyond the veil," Dennis mused. "They had a lot in common." He noticed Harry's expression and said, "Yeah, probably not." In an almost-whisper, he added, "Bet readers would love it in a comic, though."

Harry's brows drew together. "You never told me there was a character inspired by Sirius in your Wizard Comics."

"Didn't I?" Dennis turned to the next page. "I only had descriptions of Snuffles, so I hope I did him justice."

In a wintry park where a few leaves had started to bud and a lone daffodil bloomed, a huge black mongrel dog chased pigeons and his own tail before gambolling around Little Harry like a pup. The bottom caption read: Harry couldn't help laughing. Sirius had been trapped inside for a very long time.

"Ginny has a disturbingly good memory," Harry murmured.

"Gabrielle agrees," Dennis replied.

The two men grinned at each other. Years after Harry carried Gabrielle out of Hogwarts Lake, Ginny had still been certain the French girl had set her Veela eyes on Harry, and Gabrielle had been convinced that Ginny was crazed with jealousy and biding her time to harm her perceived rival.

"It's almost too bad they finally decided to put the past behind them," Harry said. "When they were avoiding each other, you and I could actually listen to Quidditch on the wireless at the Iron Shackle."

"There are compensations," Dennis replied. "With our wives along, more blokes send free drinks to the table."

The men snickered together, and then Harry glanced at the next cartoon. In Fortesque's Ice Cream Parlour, Sirius and Little Harry shared a ginormous sundae. Instead of eating, Little Harry stared at an adorable red haired girl sitting at the next table. Sirius said, "You are—truly your father's son, Harry."

"In good ways, I hope," Harry said. He turned the page and studied the image of the Great Hall decorated for Halloween and a silvery Patronus dog leaping away from the staff table. Dumbledore told McGonagall, "Minerva, kindly go to Hagrid's house, where you will find a small boy and a large black dog sitting in the pumpkin patch. Tell them I will be with them shortly. I'll need to fetch a book of carving spells from my office before I can turn a pumpkin into a play house."

"Ginny told me you enjoyed reading nursery rhymes to the children," Dennis said.

"Probably because Aunt Petunia never read any to me," Harry replied.

Dennis, who had grown up with loving parents, appeared saddened by his friend's deprived childhood. Harry quickly flipped to the next cartoon. Sirius slumped in a chair to the right of the drawing room fireplace in the background of the cartoon, whiskey glass in hand. In the foreground, Remus and Little Harry lounged on the rug next to a coffee table playing Chinese checkers. Little Harry's eyes were on his godfather as he said, "Miss Mary doesn't like Sirius anymore."

"What she doesn't like," Remus said quietly, "Is the fact that the person Sirius cares for the most about in the world is you."

Satisfaction filled Harry, mixed with guilt. Why couldn't he be content just knowing Sirius had loved him? He was like those Muggles who only believed what they could see.

"Oh, Merlin, I'm an arse. Ginny told me Dumbledore said that about Sirius and this image came to mind." Dennis made a sound of distress. "I didn't mean you to think Sirius would've never found love as a single parent. I'm sure he would've loved multiple women."

The rambling apology snapped Harry back to the present. "Multiple women?" His lips twitched.

Dennis's anxious expression relaxed. "Likely at the same time." He started to laugh and then stopped. "No offense," he said, raising his voice and glancing around almost nervously. Harry saw why when he studied the next, split-panel cartoon.

In the left panel, Sirius sat on the side of Little Harry's bed while the boy gazed at Lily and James's wedding photograph on the side table and asked, "You think the dead we loved ever truly leave us?" Sirius answered, "No."

The right panel showed Sirius, back pressed against Harry's closed door, eyes shifting from side to side. A trio of thought bubbles floated over his head. One showed Snuffles hiking a leg to pee on a fire hydrant while Little Harry laughed. Another bubble revealed a poker game where Sirius smoked a cigar and showed Little Harry, standing on a chair beside him, his cards. The third bubble showed Little Harry and Sirius in a pet shop. "I want a Hippogriff!" the boy cried. Sirius shook his head. "You have to wait until next birthday."

Beneath the drawing, the caption read: Sirius reconsidered his answer to Harry and hoped the dead they loved weren't always with them.

Harry blinked. He didn't want his parents or anyone else he'd loved and lost to be with him literally, like ghosts, either. Moaning Myrtle diving into the Prefects Bath had been bad enough. He wouldn't have a sex life if he started thinking about his parents and Sirius watching him from behind the veil. Wryly, he told Dennis. "I'm glad they're a part of me, but I second that thought."

"Agreed." Dennis rapped his knuckles against the wood table top.

Harry smiled over the next cartoons: Snuffles waiting outside Little Harry's Day Nursery, petted by a trio of mums. Snuffles and Little Harry burying a tin of Hagrid's inedible treacle fudge in the backyard. Little Harry hanging a golden snitch decoration on a Christmas tree while Sirius, can of spray paint in hand, eyed Kreacher, who strung woven paper balls into a garland, and said, "All we need is an angel on top."

Dennis placed a hand on the page. "The next cartoon is the last. It isn't a graveside scene like in Professor Doom and Son, but I did tear up a bit while drawing, so if you'd like privacy—"

"Stay," Harry said. When Dennis lifted his hand, he turned the page.

The last illustration was Little Harry's room. An Illumination Orb glowed on the bedside table and Sirius, dressed in a robe and dragon feet slippers, lay atop the covers next to Little Harry, who huddled on his side under the blankets except for one arm left dangling out so the boy could hold Sirius's hand. "You'll stay with me?" the boy asked.

"Albus never wanted to be alone after nightmares, either," Harry said.

Dennis sniffled. "What did you tell him?"

"What my father told me." He pointed to the speech bubble of Sirius's reply.

Until the very end.

"You're a great dad, Harry," Dennis said gruffly.

If that was true, it was because he'd had great examples: James, Sirius, Remus, and Arthur. "And you're a great friend," he replied.

Dennis, face reddening with embarrassment, waved off the compliment as he stood. "Ginny provided the inspiration."

"I'll thank her later." In ways he prayed no one would see beyond the veil. "Right now, I'm trying to thank you." He held out his hand. Dennis shook it.

They ambled toward the paddock. "I hope you cast spells against wear and tear," Harry said, hefting the book. "Everyone's going to want to get their hands on this."

"I did."

Harry hid a smile. Dennis was a self-acknowledged germaphobe. He'd cast a Sanitizing Spell after shaking hands; the book was probably anti-microbial. "I have one last question," he said when the paddock, Quidditch players, and spectators were in sight. "You told me before the first comic came out that I inspired Super Wizard. Why didn't you tell me about the character inspired by Sirius?"

Dennis smiled apologetically. "I thought it was obvious."

"Not to me."

"Can't you guess?" Dennis's smile widened into amusement. "I'll give you a hint. He has a moustache."

There were only a few notable characters in Creevey Comics with moustaches, and only one was a father figure. "Commissioner Goldman." An honourable man who hated Dark wizards and bent the rules for the right reasons: a man like Sirius Black. "He'd be chuffed." Shouts drew his attention to the player who was flying her broomstick away from the paddock pitch.

Ginny landed a couple of metres away from them and hopped off her broom.

Harry said, "I wondered why you never brought up Sirius again."

"Now you know." Her face was glowing. "Did you like your present?"

Harry gave the book to Dennis and strode over to kiss Ginny in a way that drew whistles and catcalls from friends and family. "I love it."

.

.

A/N: Another story about Harry and what might have been. Any reader who hasn't read Professor Doom and Son (I was inspired by Darth Vader and Son to write a Potterverse homage) is invited to do so. The quotes used in the "comics" were taken from PoA, GoF and OotP except the last one, which was from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Let me know if you like the idea and the story!