Loadstar: something that serves as a guide or on which the attention is fixed.

August 19, 1998

The day was quiet. Even the sunlight fell softly, creeping quietly across the floor as if afraid to squeak a floorboard. Harry knew they were all around somewhere, maybe even snatching glances at him, wondering. He'd been on the living room rug for hours. They must be wondering. But they didn't ask, didn't even make a sound, so he didn't worry about them.

He didn't know what to do anymore. For so long, he'd been running. To fight, to protect, to do what he alone could do, what must be done. Running, running, running to Voldemort and the end because he couldn't see anything past that. And now… it wasn't just that he was there, in that future he couldn't see. He was still running, but the point his world had revolved around for so long was gone and he was flung, weightless, into space. He ran furiously and went nowhere, and there was no direction, no way to know which way was up.

He needn't fear wandering out of his own head when he slept, never mind that his own head was the last place he wanted to be these days. They needn't fear the shadow of death anymore; it had come and gone and taken what it would. Their lives were free and clear and theirs to live as they pleased… only his life was a lot longer than it had looked before. This is it, what you fought for. But nobody had told him the steps between 'they lived' and 'happily ever after.'

They were starting to worry about him, Harry could tell. Now that they'd all remembered how to live again. Even George knew how, even if sometimes he didn't want to. But they were noticing things. Noticing that Harry would flee the Burrow before dawn, as if the walls were aflame. Noticing that he would be gone for hours Merlin knew where, and sometimes he'd come back shivering even though it was the middle of summer or drenched even though the sun beat down on them. Ron whispered to Hermione about how he didn't sleep. Molly whispered to Arthur about how he barely ate. And they watched him now, all the time. He liked it better when they couldn't see past their own fingers.

That's why Andromeda had come today, he knew. Mrs. Weasley had asked her, like she'd done often enough because that house was too empty and isolated for an old woman and a baby day and night, night and day. But she'd also asked because when Teddy came, Harry stayed.

He didn't know why exactly, why he couldn't bring himself to run when the baby was in the house. He should have, Harry knew that. The boy was him all over again and it was his fault. He hadn't made Remus and Tonks come. He hadn't planned the battle. He hadn't thrown the curses. They certainly hadn't charged into the fray shouting his name. But one day that boy of theirs was going to ask where they were and why, and then why, if Harry was supposed to be the savior of the Wizarding world, he hadn't saved them? He should run from that. But he couldn't.

Harry leaned on one elbow, looking down at the baby. Teddy kicked and wriggled on his blanket, his eyes, big and blue just now, wandering unseeingly across the ceiling. They stopped on Harry's face, barely a foot above him, and his gummy mouth opened in a gurgle. Mrs. Weasley had told him babies could only see about eight inches in front of them, but it felt like their gazes were locked, green in blue, blue in green.

No, Harry decided. Teddy was not like him. He owed it to Remus and Tonks, to Andromeda, to Teddy himself to ensure that never happened. However much he didn't want to be the one answering the questions, it had to be him. Just like it had to be him in the Great Hall. Something was changing then, he could feel. Maybe it had been changing for a while and only now did he feel it. A shifting of centers, gravity's slow return, something to pull him up, out of the storming sea. Another thing – a better thing – to fill up his future.

And suddenly he knew which way was up again.

A/N: This word belonged to them the first moment I saw it. It's been a whole ruddy month, I know, and I did not finish June. But I hope you liked this anyway. Check my profile for my excuses, and maybe drop me a line anyway? Thanks for everything!