Warnings from the last chapter still apply. Thank you to WordSmithers, namelessrandom and Lauren Larkin for the help :)

Harry James Potter

Beloved father, brother, friend and husband.

31/07/80 – 03/08/18

James can see thestrals now. He told me so last night. He never said a word when we were in the carriage together and he kept it to himself for eight whole months. He says they're a wicked sight to see but not worth it, really. Not worth the price paid.

Hogwarts hasn't been the same this year. I had people staring at me the year before but never with so much pity. I remember dad crouching down in front of me and telling me it would be alright to be a Slytherin. He said that it wouldn't matter to them what house I'm in and when I'd wrote home, asking not to be disowned, he'd told me not to be stupid; that home wasn't home without me and I'd better not ask something like that ever again. And when he'd picked us up at the platform he'd smiled at me, not at all perturbed by my green and silver embellished uniform. He'd hugged me just as tightly as he did James; and while my brother had pulled away, embarrassed I only wish I'd held on longer.

He'd defended me. Uncle Ron had been a bit of a prat to me that summer as he, himself, admitted. He couldn't quite trample down that old prejudice and, although his behaviour was more to do with his darling daughter slowly but surely falling for a Malfoy, some of his comments had stung. Dad would have none of it. He didn't care that Ron was one of his best friends in the whole world and his brother-in-law. I hadn't liked the two of them arguing but I got the feeling that he would have gotten angry on my behalf no matter who it was, even his wife.

He was sticking up for me all that time and two days later he was gone. Maybe if he'd spent that time sticking up for himself instead, he'd still be here now. I know that's harsh. My dad must have had his reasons. They were probably numerous and so intertwined that'd he'd felt stuck.

It was clear to anyone who looked that he loved my mother.

"Dear Merlin, but you look stunning." Mum was standing there at the bottom of the stairs, dressed up in her best evening gear. I'll admit she looked pretty but such things didn't hold my attention. I'd fidgeted while he'd wrapped an arm around her waist.

"Are you sure? It's not too much?" she'd fussed, tugging at her earrings. James had rolled his eyes while dad gently took her hand away and kissed her on the cheek.

"Relax, love. It's prefect. You're perfect." She'd smiled and Lily had let out a dreamy sigh. It was my turn to roll my eyes. Dad had taken us all by surprise and lifted mum up into his arms, bridal style. She had let out a little squeak, but looked pleased, and he'd announced rather casually that they'd 'best be going.' He'd then pinned the three of us with his best parental stare.

"You munchkins better behave for Teddy, okay?"

"Yes, Dad."

"'Course we will."

"'Kay, Daddy."

As my siblings ran off to find Teddy, I'd followed mum and dad out into the hallway where I'd held the door open for them, like a gentleman. Dad had winked down at me and I'd heard him whisper to her.

"I'm a very lucky man." She'd rested her head on his shoulder and smiled.

"Hmm…definitely."

It wasn't long after that that I'd ran up the stairs of our home, so excited by something I can't even remember now, that I'd burst into my parents room without knocking. Dad, his back to me, had been looking through his wardrobe. He hadn't heard the door open and I'd opened my mouth to speak, but before I could he'd taken his top off and I'd closed it again.

I'd never seen dad with his shirt off before. He was one to remain covered up and I never really questioned it. Most of my family holds scars from the war. My Uncle George is missing an ear and Uncle Bill's face clearly shows the signs of Greyback's attack. Neither of them have a very dangerous job now, not like dad did, so I could understand why he wanted to wear his long sleeved shirts and jumpers. He didn't want us to see or worry when he picked up another mark, be it from a dark wizard or low-life criminal. Out of sight, out of mind and all that.

Besides, there were many photos of my dad's time at Hogwarts and summers spent at the Burrow. He'd warn concealing clothes then too. I'd known, of course that this probably had more to do with the people he had been raised by, but old habits die hard and if dad was more comfortable dressed like that then who was I to make a fuss over it?

As such I was very ill prepared for what I saw. It was as if a frustrated painter had used his oils in a slapdash manner and, unsatisfied by how the splodges refused to make a pretty picture, had slashed at the canvas with his bare hands.

I'd quickly closed the door, knowing dad would be upset that I'd seen some of the damage done to him. I'd felt scared and angry and nauseous but I reminded myself that dad was fine, that he had chosen his dangerous profession because he could handle it and for every mark on his body the criminal responsible would be hurt ten-fold, hopefully through the fact that they were somewhere rotting in a prison cell.

That image is ingrained in my mind now. Sometimes when I lie in my-four-poster in the Slytherin common-room it feels like it's been painted onto the back of my eye-lids. It's exactly the thing dad was hoping to avoid and for the most part he did far too good a job of it. But that one image got past the censor and it makes my skin crawl. I don't particularly care now, if those criminals I'd so badly wanted justice served to includes my own mother.

I did at the time. I'm afraid I wasn't very supportive to my brother, when he needed it the most. I hadn't wanted to believe him; couldn't understand how any of it could be possible. It was like telling me prime numbers don't exist, it just didn't compute in my head. I'd already lost my dad; I didn't want to lose her too.

…

One day, I'd wanted to teach Hugo how to play Gobstones but I'd left my set in my bedroom. I was old enough to floo by myself so I'd simply popped home from the Burrow. I hadn't gotten very far. My mum and dad had been standing in the middle of the living room, holding each other; dad with his back to me and mum's face buried in his shoulder.

At first I'd though they were doing that mushy slow dancing that adults did. I'd seen them do that before, with dad humming that muggle song he was so fond of. He hadn't been humming then but his voice was a soft murmur.

"I'm so sorry, Gin. Don't cry, yeah? I love you."

I'd wondered what had happened for mum to need comforting. I'd always seen her as fiercely independent and strong; not at all weepy or overly emotional. But we all have our off days; days when things just come tumbling down around us. She'd pulled away from him and I could just make out her saying,

"You drive me crazy."

"I know, love. I'm working on it."

I'd wondered what he was apologising for. Whatever the reason, I'd figured she would forgive him, he would cheer her up and everything would be fine. She'd moved closer to him again and I'd felt that I was intruding so I'd shuffled back into the fire place. I thought I'd heard through the crackling of the green fire,

"Don't be mad, love. Please."

…..

It was a few weeks later that I'd walked in on dad opening a parcel. He'd quickly shoved it in the cutlery draw and spun round, looking like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar. He'd let out a relived breath when he saw me.

"Oh, Al it's you."

"What cha hi-ding?" I'd sung, enjoying the role-reversal. Instead of denying it like I'd expected, he'd grinned back at me conspiratorially.

"Come here," he'd beckoned me over while re-opening the draw. I'd taken the parcel from his hands with mounting excitement only to be disappointed when the crepe paper fell away.

"What do you think?" He'd seemed to genuinely want my opinion so I'd tried my best to be enthusiastic.

"It's a necklace. Er – a nice necklace." He didn't look impressed.

"Come on, Al, you can do better than that."

"It's sparkly," I'd tried again and dad had run an agitated hand through his hair.

"Do you think mum will like it?" Now, this was a question I could sincerely answer.

"She's gonna love it, dad. Teddy says girls like sparkly things." I added, as if to offer credence to my opinion.

"Yeah? Well they must do then." He'd taken the necklace back and I'd known he was teasing me but he'd looked reassured so I hadn't minded.

"Are you going somewhere?"

"Not this year, Al. I'm kicking you munchkins out and we're having a nice candle lit dinner in the garden." He'd ruffled my hair as if to soften the blow of being 'kicked out' like I didn't already know we'd be spending the day at the Burrow.

"The garden?"

"Yeah, I'm going to make it look real pretty and your Gran's been helping me learn how to make grilled chicken Cordon Bleu."

"Sounds fancy." I had no idea what that was supposed to mean but dad's excitement was contagious. "She's gonna have a great time, dad." He'd looked even happier at my words.

"I got some records too," he'd enthused. "That Marvin Clunes guy."

I'd made a face at that and he'd laughed. I didn't see what she saw in the guy but hey, whatever it made her happy. And that's all my dad ever really cared about. He'd put a hand on my shoulder lightly, suddenly looking serious. He had glanced at the kitchen door then up at the window before looking me right in the eyes. I tried my best to look just as serious; like my dad's behaviour wasn't bemusing me.

"This is between me and you, yeah? It's going to be a surprise."

I'd nodded seriously. I may have thought he was acting weird but I knew how much it all meant to my dad and I'd felt honoured that he trusted me with it all. "Mum's hard to surprise though," I'd cautioned him.

"Not this year." His grin was back, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "She thinks I've completely forgotten."

I'm never going to forget though. I still don't know what happened and I was far too glad to have him home from the hospital to either notice or care that our living room was missing several bits of furniture.

…..

I'm sitting here now, in Godric's Hollow, with a couple of white lilies, wondering how I'd missed it all. I feel like I was the unwitting participant in a well-constructed play. Either that or somebody rose-tinted my glasses without me bloody knowing. It's not like I didn't know she had a temper and it's not like I'd never seen her mad at him. He'd looked so unconcerned though; never batted an eye-lid. He took it all in stride and I remember now every excuse I'd unthinkingly accepted:

"She's got a dead-line coming up - it's all a bit stressful for her right now."

"It's my fault. I said something I shouldn't have."

"Her friend's going through a tough time so she's staying there the night."

I think he'd like the gravestone. It's by his parent's graves and Sirius's memorial and it's very simple. Some think it's much understated; he was the saviour of the Wizarding world and Head of its Auror department after all. I reckon dad would have said such thing belong on a C.V not a grave stone. Besides, those were the roles most important to him. I still remember him declaring to me, all those years ago, that we were the very best thing to ever come into his life. He told me the tale, one Christmas holiday, of the mirror of Erised and I had been both saddened and impressed by what he had seen. Apparently, he didn't mind what he got for Christmas as he'd attained his true desire a long time ago. Though, as long as we were on the subject, he could do with a new pair of socks.

Teddy informed me more recently, that dad didn't think himself a very good parent or husband. It doesn't take very much imagination to know how he picked up this way of thinking. I can only hope that he never got that kind of vibe from me or my siblings. He was a good dad and husband and its set in stone now where everybody can see it. They better believe it too, no matter what lies she uses to defend herself.

I can't help but think that the very best part of the message is the end. I may only be a second year and I haven't met very many people but I don't think there are many who deserve it quite as much after everything he went through.

I love you, dad.

And I hope you rest in peace.

Teddy's chapter is with a beta so hopefully it'll be up soon :) Thank you so much to those who reviewed and Favorited. It meant a lot :) I tend to reply to anonymous reviews on my profile so please mention in your review if you don't want me to do this.

I mean no discredit to those who have endured the same as Harry. Perhaps not the whole Voldemort thing but both or either of his home lives. Al's bound to be biased and confused though. By 'two days later' I'm referring to 'Forgiveness' (which I don't expect you to read) being set on August 1st when Al and Ron make up and, two days later - on August 3rd Harry dies.

Love you loads - Ami x