Author's Note: Howdy, ya'll! Superman is #16 on the Speak Now: Target Edition CD, so how fitting is it that this story has 16 chapters?! Also, sixteen chapters happened because of the every-other-day uploading schedule that I utilised for this fic. Anyways, I want to say thank you so so much for being encouraging, sweet, and thoughtful in your reviews and for reading this story until the very end. You guys were my superheros for this past month; I loved you all from the very first day ~ xoxo wouldtheywriteasongforyou
PS: It is 19 years later after the War like in the Deathly Hallows' epilogue. Duh.
PPS: This is my first complete story. Originally Superman was supposed to be just a short collection of Ginny's thoughts (more like the one chapter stories I write) but this fic took a life of its own and evolved into this 50K sugary and sappy and maple syrup-y chocolate chip pancake of wholehearted goodness. Cheers to me!
Nineteen Years Later
"Mummy! Daddy! Come quick; we're gonna be late!" squeals Lily frantically. She bursts into our bedroom that overlooks the skyline of Muggle London. Out in the foggy distance is the distinct sight of Tower Bridge and the London Eye. But my sleep-addled eyes are more focused on the caterwauling of my youngest child.
"Sweetie, the Hogwarts Express doesn't leave until much, much later," I placate her, sitting up in bed as I wipe the sleep from my eyes. "And even if we are late, Daddy can always drive you."
"Daddy can't drive me!" she insists, her lower lip quivering. "I remember those stories about him during his Second Year when he missed the train and got stuck in the Whomping Pillow!"
"Willow," you correct her gently. She's apparently woken you up as well. "And I promise, Lily, we are not going to be late. I can't have Albus missing his first day."
Lily scowls at this. "When will it be my first day?" she whines. "I want to go to Hogwarts now!"
"Shut up, you cry baby," mumbles our eldest child as he enters into our bedroom, obviously woken up by his sister's screeching. "Hogwarts isn't that great, you know."
You and I share a look at James's obvious lie. We both know that he is going through a phase where he has to look cooler than he actually is, and to do so, he needs to act bored and like he doesn't care half the time. Third Years, these days.
Then, in comes our middle child. Albus Severus Potter is exactly like you, just miniaturised. His rumpled hair is as messy as ever, bright green eyes are crusted with sleep, and his round wire-framed glasses are on crooked. "Morning, Mum. Dad."
"Hey, you," I say in greeting to Albus. I stretch and get out of bed, scooping up Lily in my arms. "Oof, sweetie, you are getting much too big for this," I laugh.
She smiles up at me with her beautiful, brown eyes that are in the same exact shape as yours and Lily Evans Potter's but are coloured in my shade of brown. "I want to go to Hogwarts," she tells me as I carry her out of the bedroom and down the hall to the kitchen. Behind me, I hear the tell-tale bickering of my two sons as they follow me to where I am about to make breakfast for their bottomless stomachs. James and Albus have definitely inherited the Weasley gene for needing to eat twenty-four seven.
"Two more years," I tell my eight-year-old daughter as I drop her off on a barstool next to our elevated granite counter where we dine at. Lily's birthday is on September 9th which is close enough to the school's cut-off deadline that Headmistress McGonagall wouldn't make Lily wait another year for her acceptance letter to Hogwarts. Lily will just be the youngest of her class, although you and I have confidence that her brains make up for her small physique.
I start preparing up a batch of chocolate chip pancakes while Albus and James continue to argue as they slide onto their respective stools. You walk on into the kitchen then, and help out with breakfast by making the bacon and veggie sausage for Lily who is a devout vegetarian ever since she watched those Muggle Disney princess films and learned that animals have feelings too.
"Kids, do your chores," I instruct as I ladle the batter onto the griddle. James sighs and goes to unload the dishwasher. Albus does his chore of setting the table with much more grace than his older brother who is hap-hazardously putting dishes away every which way. Lily swivels on her barstool while she colours her newest drawing. Her chore is to clean up after meals, so she spends the time beforehand working on her artistic projects. I'm hoping that her aptitude for colours and patterns will carry over into outstanding brilliance in Potions although I am quite sure Professor Slughorn will like her because she is a Potter no matter how extraordinary her talents are.
A few minutes later, you and I serving up breakfast to our three children. "Eat fast," I say with a half-joking smile. "We don't want to be late, do we?"
"No!" our three children chorus, much to yours and my amusement.
"We won't be late," you promise me as you kiss me good morning.
"We better not be," I grin, kissing you back while our children yell out a round of ew's. "You'd devastate our kids, if we are."
.
.
We make our way through King's Cross Station, gathering much attention and confused looks from the Muggles travelling to and fro in their busy lives. The air is cold to the touch but it feels warm to me because something about it feels like home somehow. I reminisce about seven years of September firsts, the excitement to be leaving home and going to Hogwarts, my other home as well as my school. And now, two of our children will be revelling in that experience as well.
You and I are pushing James's and Albus's trolleys that are filled with their trunks and their owls that we had bought them at Diagon Alley. Lily is clinging to your sleeve, going on and on tearfully about how she wishes it is her and not Albus who gets to go to Hogwarts this year.
"I won't! I won't be in Slytherin!" comes the vehement cry of our newest First Year in the family.
I look behind me at the instigator. "James, give it a rest!"
"I only said he might be," says James with an impish grin directed at his younger brother. "He might be in Slyth –"
I give my eldest troublemaker the best Molly Weasley glare that I can muster. Immediately, the scoundrel falls silent. Once James catches sight of the barrier between platforms nine and ten, he gives Albus a self-assured look and grabs his trolley from me. "S'later!" he calls to Albus as he breaks into a run and vanishes through the brick wall.
"You'll write to me, won't you?" Albus asks you and me as soon as James is out of earshot. Oh, Albus, wanting to look so much stronger and tougher than he actually is just to get approval from his older brother.
I nod my head. "Every day, if you want us to."
Quickly, Albus corrects me. "Not every day. James says most people only get letters from home about once a month."
I stifle my laughter and inform him seriously that James actually got a letter three times a week last year.
"And you don't want to believe everything he tells you about Hogwarts," you interject; wanting to boost your son's confidence and let Albus become an independent being. "He likes a laugh, your brother." The proud thought that is echoing in both yours and my mind is that James is fully living up to the reputation of the man he's named after.
We follow James through the barrier and I relish the look of awe and happiness as you step out onto Platform Nine and Three Quarters. We've been here countless times but the magic of this place never seems to fade away nor does that first wondrous feeling of stepping into the magical world after we've remained in Muggle London for so long.
.
.
Suddenly, scarlet steam is billowing out of the Hogwarts Express as it prepares to leave the station. James is already on the train after giving you and I hurried goodbyes in an effort to look cool and not need his parents anymore. It breaks my heart a little to see my eldest son grow up so fast. You and Albus are having a little private chat about the Sorting a little ways over – I know Albus is terrified of being Sorted into the wrong House after all of his brother's negative comments about Slytherin; James is a true Gryffindor, through and through.
Albus comes trotting back, a more relaxed expression on his face although he still looks mildly shocked that he is actually getting to go to Hogwarts this year. I kiss him goodbye and pretend not to notice when he unobtrusively wipes away my kiss from the side of his cheek. "See you at Christmas," I smile with tears in my eyes.
"Bye, Al," you say as Albus hugs you. "Don't forget Hagrid's invited you to tea next Friday. Don't mess with Peeves. Don't duel anyone until you've learned how. And don't let James wind you up."
He nods his head in understanding and whispers to you: "Love you, Dad." Louder: "Love you too, Mum." And then he jumps onto a carriage and I close the door behind him. Students' heads poke out as they try to get a final glimpse of their parents, of us the famed war-heroes, and to call out last-minute reminders and I love you's.
You keep pace with the train as it pulls out of the station, smiling and waving farewell to Albus who has lingered at the windows longer than James did. Albus's face is aglow with excitement at the prospect of Hogwarts and already, he looks different from the scared boy who boarded the train some thirty seconds ago.
"He'll be alright," I murmur to you, witnessing Albus's transformation already. I can tell he'll grow out of his shell and start the process of discovering himself at Hogwarts just like you did all those years ago.
"I know he will." You lower you hand that had waved our sons goodbye and touch the scar on your forehead absentmindedly. You grab hold of Lily and hoist her up onto your hip, tickling her sides gently to distract yourself from the tears of watching your favourite child – don't deny it because you and I know it's true – grow up ready to experience what the magical world has to offer him.
I bite my lip to stop the smile from growing on my face. Even though there is no threat of Lord Voldemort anymore, you still haven't lost your persona as Superman which is obvious through the way you are Lily's hero for doting on her all the time as well as Albus's for understanding him on a deep level without making fun of him and are also James's hero for helping him get into mischief and covering him during his harmless pranks on Ron and George.
But most of all, you're my hero which is evident in everyday as we both profess our love for each other even nineteen years later.