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Prompt: Visiting Jily's grave. HHr continues their tradition of visiting Godric's Hollow on Christmas Eve ever since Deathly Hallows.
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Harry held his daughter, staring intently at her little face. Not that she was doing anything that required that level of attention. Occasionally she would give more effort than necessary to breathe in and her little mouth would open wide while her tiny body gave a small shiver.
He stroked his fingertip slowly along her softly curved cheek as she slept on, a tight feeling in his chest. He had forgotten how small babies were when they were new. They grew so fast, especially the rough-and-tumble boys. He was mostly around with the Weasley children and then his own.
Harry understood a little bit more Bill Weasley's paranoia about Victoire. A soft warm weight came against his side and he looked over to his son, coming to stare at Poppy with him.
"Do you think she'll play quidditch with us? Victoire only likes to play with dolls."
"Maybe."
James snuggled closer to Harry's side. "Even if Poppy doesn't play with us, you'll still play quidditch with me, right?"
"Of course."
James yawned, his eyes blinking closed. "Will we take her to meet Grandma and Grandpa Potter?"
Harry and Hermione had fallen into the habit of visiting his parent's graves on Christmas Eve, as a remembrance. "Maybe."
James' breathing slowed as he fell asleep against Harry. There was a warning tingle in his arm that said it was falling asleep and would probably get stiff but Harry ignored it. Instead, he marveled again that such a life was his. Two beautiful children who were happy. Who didn't have to worry about dark wizards after them or desperately yearn for a family as Harry had.
He looked up as steps approached and Hermione squeezed herself on his other side. She pressed a kiss to his cheek before cuddling her head on his shoulder. "You're a great family pillow."
"It's part of my Dad skill set."
She gave a soft laugh. "No, even when we were younger, you were the best pillow." Hermione's hand stroked along his forearm where he cradled a sleeping Poppy. "There were nights I could only sleep because I had you next to me."
"Mmm."
"What are you thinking about?"
"James asked me if we were going to go to my parents' grave this Christmas eve."
"Of course, we will." There was a pause, and Hermione straightened up, pulling back so she could see Harry's face. He wasn't looking at her but was staring downward toward the children. "Harry?"
"Is it really healthy to take the children to visit a cemetery on Christmas Eve?"
"I think it's more of remembering important people on a special day." Hermione searched his face.
"Maybe instead of that, we could start a new tradition. I still have those photos Hagrid gathered for me. We could look through them and remember them as they lived."
Hermione reached out and cupped his chin, gently tugging so he faced her. "Are you sure, love?"
Harry's forehead wrinkled as he tried to put together the words to make her understand the feeling he had. "I want my children to remember that their grandparents were happy even with the short time they had. I want them to look toward the future with excitement, not be reminded of a terrible past."
Hermione leaned forward and kissed him, pressing her lips gently against his. "This sudden change of heart doesn't have anything to do with Poppy being less than a month old?"
"No." Harry glanced down. "Well, not totally. Look how small she is, though!"
"Harry."
Harry gave as much a shrug as he could, still pinned on one side by a sleeping James and holding Poppy.
"When James was two, you threw him into a snow mound."
"Not the same at all, and I cast cushioning charms."
"There's warming charms."
"Hermione."
She stared into his determined green gaze and gave in. They would remember James and Lily Potter differently than they had these past years. "Okay."
Harry smiled at her before looking back down at their daughter.
Hermione ran a hand through his messy black hair, smoothing the worst back. "I love you."
"I love you too." Harry smiled and opened his mouth, about to say something a little bit naughtier, when a high-pitched voice cut him off.
"I love Mum, and Dad, and Poppy too!" James' eyes were wide open as he moved back. "I don't remember getting thrown in the snow. Can we do that again so I remember this time?"
Harry looked at his son. "How long have you been awake?"
"The whole time."
"Why didn't you say anything?" Hermione asked, exasperated.
"I wanted to see what you guys would say first," James replied innocently.
