For the weeks following their escape, Harry and Ginny didn't allow their children entrance back to Hogwarts. Denver, Jimmy, and Gwen had disappeared, and the Potter family feared a repeat of their last capture.
Albus sat on his house's porch with his dad. Albus was still ashamed of being controlled. He knew he would be until the bruises on Harry's arms disappeared. And even then, the memories wouldn't fade.
"Am I weak?" Albus finally asked.
"No," Harry replied. Albus ignored it.
"Is it because I'm a Hufflepuff?" Albus asked. James had become a Griffindor, and Lily a Ravenclaw, but Albus had gotten into Hufflepuff.
"What would that have to do with it?"
"It means I'm not brave, clever, or even ambitious."
"But you're thoughtful and kind."
"That doesn't do anything."
"Never say that, Albus. Do you think Voldemort had any kind part in him?" Harry asked. Albus looked at his feet.
"But kindness doesn't do anything."
"And that's where you're wrong, Albus. Kindness can save lives."
Meanwhile, James sat alone in his room. A feeling of guilt pressed upon him. He knew in his heart the Death Eaters would come back. He knew they would stop at nothing to get Voldemort back to life. And he knew Albus would suffer. But wasn't he the oldest? Shouldn't he take more responsibility? Wasn't there a way to stop Albus from suffering? Thinking hard, James thought of a way to stop Albus from turning into Voldemort. Forever. But could James do it?
For strength, James thought of his brave father in his seventh year. He had tried to sacrifice himself for the people he loved too. A tear crept out of James' eyes, surprising him. Lily cried loads, but never James. Again, he'd never been in this situation before either.
But it was the only solution.
"Albus!" James yelled. "Could you come up here for a minute?" He wondered if those would be some of his final words.
More tears fell from his tears.