"Albus! Albus! Come on, wake up!"

Someone was shaking him vigorously.

"Huh?" He mumbled, groggily.

Opening his eyes, he saw his sister Lily with a gleam of excitement in her eyes.

"Come on! It's Christmas! Presents!" and, just like that, she bolted out of the room toward the stairs.

Albus slowly sat up. Looking around, he saw he was in his bedroom. This confused him. He didn't remember falling asleep… at least not for long.

Racking his brain, he recalled trying to get some sleep after his mother sent the three of them to bed. However, he was haunted again by horrible visions of his father's death. He had woken practically hysterical in the middle of the night. It was all he could do not to yell out in fear. He decided to go to the kitchen for some tea. It worked at the hospital, maybe it would work again.

It was then that he encountered his father.

Albus sat there thinking for a moment. He began wondering if the interaction was a dream or not. At the time, he certainly believed it was real and was grateful for his father's comfort. After that, though, he didn't remember anything. He didn't remember coming back up to his room or grabbing the tea he intended to get. He didn't even remember letting his father go during that lasting hug.

"Albus!" called James from downstairs. "Come on! Lily's already started!"

As he made to remove the covers, he noticed something soft tucked under his arm.

It was his father's blanket.

Comprehension dawned on his face. He did talk to his father last night. He must have fallen asleep while still hugging him. The more he thought about it, it made sense. He had been exhausted and was almost avoiding sleep due to those nightmares.

Did that mean his father brought him to bed? He must have tucked the blanket in with him under the covers. Albus smiled. He certainly felt better, and, now that he thought about it, he felt more awake than he had in a while. He must have slept well.

He was about out the door when he realized he had forgotten something. He ran over to his coat and fished out the gift he had bought in Diagon Alley. Trying not to take too long, he snuck into his parent's room and found the box he was looking for and finished preparing his gift. Unfortunately, there was no wrapping paper in the room. He held it close to himself, trying to hide it, and made his way to the sitting room.

He had been avoiding looking at the room since they had first gotten back from the hospital. All he could think of was how broken it was and the pool of blood his father had previously been lying in.

Thankfully, the room had been transformed. Not only was everything repaired and cleaned up, but it had been rearranged as well. Even the paint on the wall was shimmering bright red and gold unlike the dull burgundy before. The tree was decorated again and sitting in the center of the room, presents spilled out beneath it. A warm fire was glowing in the fireplace behind it.

Lily had torn into presents as fast as she could. She had already unwrapped the sweater their grandma knits them every year and was pulling it over her pajamas. James was gawking over a broom care service kit. His mother was sitting on the couch with her legs stretched out across the cushions. There were a few gifts in front of her as well, but she was focused more on watching her children's reactions.

Harry was sitting in his squashy armchair next to his wife. He watched with a great smile as his daughter returned to tearing open her gifts and his eldest son struggle to say "thank you". He looked up as Albus entered. His smile grew.

"Hey, Al," he greeted cheerfully.

There was something in Harry's eyes that told Albus that his siblings didn't know about last night's events. He was grateful for this because he knew his brother would tease him if he was caught sobbing like that.

Albus smiled in return.

Ginny looked up.

"Go on, Albus. The others have started already," she encouraged eagerly.

Rather than walking up to the tree, Albus went right up to his father. Ginny watched curiously, but Harry's smile stayed strong.

"Yes?"

Albus paused for a moment.

"I'm sorry, but I didn't have time to wrap it," he said slowly revealing the gift to his father, "It's not much, but I hope you like it."

Harry reached forward slowly. There in his hands was an old picture from the photo album in his closet. The picture showed Harry at least a decade younger surrounded by three overexcited children. In his arms, a squirmy little girl, no older than one, was kicking and giggling wildly. Next to him was a five to six year old James making deliberately funny faces toward the camera. Around his neck were tiny arms of a three year old. Albus was peering over his father's shoulder, a large grin on his face as he tried to climb higher. The picture version of Harry laughed and tried to bring an arm around his back for his son to step on and get higher.

The photo was encased in an antique picture frame. The boarders of the frame were made up of four silver quills. As Harry brought it closer, the quill on the top of the frame stood up on its tip and scooted to the top of the picture. The young family in the photo all looked up towards it as it wrote above them in shining silver ink. "My Family". The quill returned to its place on the frame and the words slowly faded.

Harry brought a hand to his mouth which was curved in a smile. He laughed a bit as the little kids in the photo continued to play. Looking up, he saw Albus watching him anxiously.

"Thank you. This is great."

Albus smiled. Harry stood and hugged his son again.

"Merry Christmas, Dad!"

"Merry Christmas, Al."

THE END

NOTE: I hate to bring this story to an end, but everything must at some point.

I do hope you enjoyed it. I don't usually write about the "Next Generation" and I hope I did it justice.

I'm sorry if it seemed too mushy at the end and if the beginning seems too short. My mind was far more focused on the bigger scenes later on.

This story was in response to the Cursed Child. It was a little much for me to take and I saw this idea as a closer representation of the feeling of the story and world (granted, there wasn't much "magic" in it).

If you enjoy the book more, great! If you enjoy this story more, great!