The Offer

"There's one missing," her mother murmured, a frown creasing her brow. "Harry, why is there one missing?"

"Missing?" Harry asked dumbly.

Violetta shot him a pointed look.

"Do not be coy with me, young man. I was the Lady Nott for several years, and I know coy when I see it."

"There is one missing," Isabella declared. "See, it goes from the seventeenth of June and then to the nineteenth. Where's the edition from the eighteenth?"

Harry had hoped with so many copies of The Daily Prophet having been printed since they'd been here, they would not notice one or two absent from the pile Mrs Nott had requested.

She wanted to keep abreast of what was happening in Britain, and unfortunately for Harry, the newspaper was the most convenient medium.

Having obtained the periodicals from the past six weeks, he'd carefully omitted a few, though judging by the looks he was receiving from the two women, his efforts would be in vain.

"Harry," Isabella sighed.

"Fine," he grumbled as he retrieved the ones he'd not given to them from within his trunk.

They split the small pile between them, and Harry did not miss the smug grin Theo sent his way.

He knew what that meant. He was likely in for a lecture or two, and his thoughts were confirmed only a moment later as he found himself being glared at by the Nott women.

"You fought a giant with a sword?" Mrs Nott asked through narrowed eyes.

Even Theo sobered at the revelation and shook his head.

"Oh, you're in for it now, Potter," he muttered amusedly. "I got in trouble for flying too high on my broom."

Violetta gestured for Harry to explain whilst Isabella read the article that accompanied the picture of the almost headless giant.

"I didn't have much choice," Harry defended. "They're almost impossible to kill just using magic, and the opportunity presented itself. I took it, and well, you can see for yourself what happened. I wasn't injured."

Violetta deflated and pulled him into a tight embrace.

"You really are a stupid boy," she huffed. "But you do not have to answer to me, or anyone else for that matter. For what it is worth, I'm proud of you. I can't fathom what on earth you were thinking, but I'm not you. I won't pretend to understand what it is like to be you."

Harry offered the woman a smile.

"Is that it?" Theo scoffed. "He gets away with it so easily?"

"This is war, Theodore," Violetta pointed out. "Harry did what he believed he needed to. You can't win a war without risk."

Theo frowned but nodded his understanding.

Isabella simply shook her head when she finished the article.

"Well, you didn't end up in my bed again, so I'll assume you were uninjured," she sighed.

"You may want to choose your words more carefully, Isabella," her mother suggested.

The younger woman's cheeks reddened and Harry fought the urge to laugh.

"You know what I meant, Potter. Get your head out of the gutter."

Harry held his hands up.

"I didn't say anything; your mother did."

"I know you well enough to know how your mind works, Harry," Isabella grumbled, though a smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. "Honestly, when I first met you, I thought you were a sweet and innocent boy."

"No boy is sweet and innocent," Violetta interjected.

"Bloody hell, what is this?" Harry huffed. "Aren't you at least going to stick up for our gender, Nott?"

The other boy shook his head.

"I've learned the hard way not to argue with them. Just give it up, Potter. This is a fight you won't win. You'll have more luck with the giants."

Harry believed him.

Violetta and Isabella were certainly a force to be reckoned with.

"I think I will comb through these," the older woman declared as she scooped up the pile of newspapers and left the kitchen.

"I have some studying to do for my NEWTs," Theo added and followed suit. "Good luck, Potter."

Harry frowned, and as he looked towards Isabella once more, he realised why Theo had left so suddenly. The woman's mood had shifted, and she wiped away a tear.

"Sorry, it's just hard being here sometimes. Not knowing what's happening and being stuck inside the same four walls."

Harry nodded his understanding.

"I get it," he assured her comfortingly. "I'll see what I can do for you. I may be able to arrange some time away from here. Would that help?"

Isabella nodded.

"Thank you," she said gratefully. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I am," Harry chuckled. "All in one piece. It was Cedric that got it this time, but he's fine now. He's being looked after by a terrifying Auror."

"Terrifying Auror?"

"It's a long story that I don't even know myself," Harry snorted. "I visited him yesterday, and the room reeked of hormones. It was disgusting."

"Lovely," Isabella commented dryly.

"No, it isn't. That woman will eat him alive if she's given the chance."

Isabella rolled her eyes at him.

"People do have sex, Harry."

"I know, I just don't want to imagine the two of them doing it."

"Shy, are we?"

Harry shook his head.

After the many things he'd witnessed in the memories the cloak provided, he certainly wasn't shy, though he was grateful he'd been spared seeing his own conception.

That was a memory he wouldn't be able to stomach.

Isabella raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

"You didn't even grimace," she praised. "Is there a hidden side to you, Harry Potter?"

"A chance would be a fine thing," Harry replied.

"Come on, you must have an admirer or two."

Harry shrugged, his thoughts drifting to his odd friendship with Daphne and even the one with Gabrielle. Both had expressed something of an interest in him, well, it certainly seemed that way.

Regardless, he was in no position to pursue a relationship with either, or perhaps it was that he didn't want to.

Harry wasn't sure what he thought. In truth, his focus was on the war, and he hadn't considered romantic pursuits, not since Katie.

Isabella was evidently thinking the same thing as she suddenly looked apologetic.

"Sorry, I forgot about what happened to her."

"It's fine," Harry said dismissively. "I suppose I've just not been looking for anything. With the war and everything else, I don't get to live my teenage years like everyone else."

"The war shouldn't stop that," Isabella chastised lightly. "You should still get to live, Harry."

He shrugged once more.

"I might not live; that is the problem, isn't it."

She shot him a look of sympathy.

"You'll live, Harry. I can't imagine a world where you don't win."

"You'll be fine," he reminded her. "If I die, there's a plan in place for you."

Isabella shook her head.

"I'd rather it didn't come to that. I'd sooner see you live, Harry."

Her words were sincere. Despite what she was set gain from his death at the hands of Tom Riddle, she meant what she had said. From what Harry had experienced of the wizarding world, particularly the pureblood side of it, that was quite the revelation.

"I have been thinking," Isabella said tentatively. "About everything. There's not much else to do here. If the worst was to happen…"

"What?" Harry pressed curiously.

Isabella released a deep sigh.

"Well, you don't have an heir. If you die, then that will be the end of your line."

Harry nodded.

"What if I gave you an heir?"

Harry blinked, uncertain that he'd heard her correctly.

"Sorry?"

"I could give you an heir," Isabella reiterated. "If he wins, which I truly hope he doesn't, it's not as though I'll be able to be a Healer. They'll find us, so we will have to stay in hiding. I could give you an heir so your family doesn't die out and then you'd have someone of your blood to pass your legacy on to."

Again, Harry wasn't convinced he wasn't hearing things, and he didn't know what to say.

"If I do win, then you can be a Healer," he pointed out. "You'll want to save being a mother for when you're married."

Isabella shook her head.

"My prospects of marriage are nil," she said with a shrug. "If he wins, we keep hiding. If you win, my family reputation will be worse than ever. No one will want a match with me or with Theo. If I give you an heir, your family line will be preserved, and I will have a child with a future."

"You can still be a Healer."

"And a mother," Isabella pointed out. "It would be a beneficial agreement for us both. You would have an heir and I would have a child with the Potter name. That would go some way to redeeming my own. At least think about it, Harry. If this war goes wrong for us, then we have a contingency plan in place, you more than me."

"I don't know what to say," he murmured in disbelief.

"Don't say anything for now," she suggested. "If you're worried about us, well, you know. We wouldn't have to do that. There are other ways of making it happen."

Despite his best efforts not to, Harry felt his cheeks redden slightly.

"What about marriage, and a family?"

"You can still have those things. I… I wouldn't interfere in that. No one who's going to end up with you will hold it against you that you felt the need to have an heir should the worst have happened. Just think about it."

Harry nodded, though he was not convinced of the idea.

He'd envisioned a life similar to those he'd seen in the memories: marriage, children, family…

He didn't want any child of his to be raised without him. Even so, such a child would never be born if he lost the war.

"I will," he replied, no more convinced by the rather ludicrous idea.

Isabella offered him a smile as he checked the clock.

"I have to go," he sighed. "There's somewhere I need to be."

Isabella nodded and wrapped her arms around him.

"Any more plans to fight giants I should be prepared for?" she asked with a smirk.

"I was thinking maybe something different but equally dangerous next time," Harry quipped. "Who knows what injuries I'll sustain."

She rolled her eyes at him and shook her head.

"I'm sure you will be the death of me, Harry Potter."

"And you think having my child is a good idea. Just imagine how I'd be if I was well-adjusted."

She grinned as she patted his cheek.

"Well, it would be cute at least. I'll see you soon?"

"You will," Harry huffed good-naturedly. "Maybe find something else to occupy your time with other than me getting you pregnant."

Isabella narrowed her eyes at him as he vanished from the room.

Although he could see the benefit of her idea, it had taken him completely by surprise. Still, he didn't want to bring a child into the world without a father. He had no doubt Isabella would be a great mother, but Harry would not see her left alone to raise a child.

Both of them would of course gain something from it, but having pondered the idea, albeit briefly, there were more reservations than he could justify in going along with it.

(Break)

"I will ask only once more, Auror Wilks," Lucius warned. "If you lie to me I will kill your wife and your daughter. Now, where are the prisoners being kept."

"I don't fucking know!" Wilks sobbed. "Only the Minister and the Head of Department know where they are being housed."

Lucius growled in frustration, raising his wand.

He scowled as a hand came to rest on his forearm.

"Killing an Auror is not a good idea, Lucius," Narcissa reasoned. "He knows nothing."

"We can't just let him go."

"No, but he can be put to better use," the woman mused aloud. "We have his family, and I am sure Auror Wilks does not wish to see them harmed."

The Auror swallowed deeply and nodded.

"And I am certain Auror Wilks will do all he can to find out what it is we want to know."

The man nodded desperately once more and Narcissa smiled as she crouched downed next to him.

"If you do not, I am going to lock your daughter in a room with Fenrir Greyback the night of the next full moon. I will make your wife watch as she is torn limb from limb. You may think that I am being unreasonable, but all I want is my son back, Auror Wilks. As a father yourself, I am sure you understand. Now, must we kill them here and now, or will you do as we have asked of you?"

Wilks gaze flittered between them. The man was torn but Lucius expected nothing less than the answer they received.

"I'll do it," he agreed reluctantly. "I'll find out what you know."

"Good," Narcissa said sweetly. "Oh, and if you do get the sudden urge to tell anyone, it will be the giants I hand them to. I understand they can be rather…brutal with women. You may leave now, Auror Wilks. Your wife and daughter will be well cared for in your absence."

The Auror fled and Lucius eyed his wife speculatively.

She had once been quite the beauty, even as they had gotten older she had retained it well. Now, however, with the lack of sleep, self-care, and this most unpleasant side to her, she had become rather unpleasant to look upon.

Her hair was lank, her cheeks hollow, and the bags under her eyes giving her a haunted expression.

Losing Draco had snapped something within Narcissa, and Lucius was not convinced that getting their son back would be enough to fix her.

This was not her.

She had always spoken out against threatening children and spouses, but with her own having been taken, it seemed there was no limit to what she wouldn't do to have Draco returned to her.

(Break)

"As always, Harry, it has been an absolute joy to see you," Perenelle whispered in his ear as she gave him a crushing embrace. "Are you going to share why you have been so distracted?"

"Sorry," Harry offered sincerely. "Do you think I need an heir?"

Perenelle was taken aback by the question and she shook her head.

"It feels like only yesterday that you were brought to me as a small boy, Harry. Living as long as Nicholas and I have, the years bleed into one another quite seamlessly. You are a man now, but what has brought this on?"

"A friend of mine suggested I should have one should the worse happen," Harry explained. "As things are, my family will end if I die."

Perenelle nodded her understanding.

"As a woman who has been married for so long that the customs of the world are lost on me, it is an impossible question to answer. I do understand that legacy and the continuation of a family is important, but I expect doing so would come with potential implications in the future."

"It would."

"Then you must weigh up the pros and cons of each scenario, Harry. If you want my advice, speak with someone who has a better understanding of these things than you. For my part in this, you should do what you feel is right. That has never stopped you, so why should it now?"

"Is that another way of saying I'm defiant?"

"Defiant, stubborn, uncooperative, I'm afraid the list goes on," Perenelle said with a fond smile.

"Thanks," Harry said dryly, grinning at the woman. "I think it is a genetic defect. My father was the same, and his before him."

"Then any child you have will be equally so," Perenelle said amusedly. "I look forward to seeing you navigating fatherhood when it comes, Harry."

"You're wishing a difficult experience on me?"

"Compared to what you have faced, fatherhood should be rather easy," Perenelle chuckled.

Harry smiled at the thought, the emotions he'd experienced from witnessing the many births he had through the visions given to him by the cloak coming to the forefront of his mind.

"Maybe," he said uncertainly. "I have a feeling that being a father will bring about very different challenges. Thank you," he added sincerely. "As always, your advice is appreciated."

Perenelle pulled him into another hug and pressed her lips against his cheek.

Offering the woman he had come to think so highly of a final smile, he activated his portkey and arrived home, back in Britain, only a moment later, where he readied himself for Daphne's arrival.

Perhaps she would be his best option to discuss the matter with?

She had been an invaluable resource when it came to anything pertaining to the purebloods of wizarding Britain. Maybe she could offer some insight.

Shaking his head, he prepared a light meal for himself and opened the mail he'd received this morning.

Amongst them was his NEWT results, which only served to confirm how his time would be spent come September. With his education formerly over, he was moving on to a new chapter in his life, even if it seemed little was truly changing.

Checking the clock, he saw that it would chime in a new hour in only a minute or so. As such, he made his way towards the entrance hall to where Daphne would appear for her lesson.

She was as prompt as ever, wearing a green dress to suit the time of year.

"Green?" Harry snorted.

"What is wrong with green?"

"You wear it all year at school."

"I like green," Daphne returned with a smirk. "I was even named for it," she added in a whisper.

"Bloody hell," Harry grumbled. "I didn't know you wanted to be a comedian."

Daphne shrugged.

"I do have something to show you," she declared excitedly.

"It's not something in your dress, is it?"

"Now, who's being funny?" Daphne huffed as she drew her wand. "Just watch. Expecto Patronum."

Harry nodded approvingly as the ethereal panda bounded around the room, performing a somersault before vanishing.

"You did it," he praised. "That's not an easy bit of magic."

Daphne beamed delightedly, an expression that made quite the difference to her usually guarded nature whilst at Hogwarts.

"So, what will we be doing today?" she asked eagerly.

(Break)

Dementors…

The boy had summoned Dementors, and even his basilisk had been turned against him. Potter was becoming more of an enigma, the magic he possessed proving to be dangerous.

What was more was the courage the boy possessed.

The Dark Lord would never have subjected himself to fighting a giant using a sword. The very thought was ridiculous.

Nonetheless, it was the nature of the magic Potter wielded that had Lord Voldemort most concerned. It was unlike anything else he'd experienced, and yet, he could find nothing in reference to it.

The feeling of the unpleasant cold, his ability to summon ghostly figures to fight for him, and now the Dementors…

The Dark Lord was missing vital information, and he did not like being ignorant of the abilities of his enemies.

Knowledge was power, after all.

No, try as he might, he could find no reference to such magic.

Still, magic was merely magic, and it could be countered.

Perhaps it would serve him well to engage the boy in smaller confrontations to develop an understanding of it.

With no point of reference, it appeared to be the only way.

Yes, that would certainly do it, even if it meant that the outcome of the prophecy would be more drawn out than the Dark Lord wished. He'd sooner be rid of Poter, but with such uncertainty surrounding the boy, a cautious approach would be best.

He did not wish to repeat the very same mistake he had a little more than a decade and a half ago, after all.

"You asked to see me, my lord?

"I have a task for you, Barty," Lord Voldemort informed the man. "My attempt to enter Hogwarts was foiled and done so because of Nott's traitorous son. Find him, Barty. I would see that the entire family is made an example of. It must be known that none can hope to slight me and escape with their lives."

"Of course, my lord. Do you have any suggestions on where to begin?"

Lord Voldemort frowned thoughtfully.

"It is likely they have been hidden by either Potter or Dumbledore," he mused aloud. "The boy has ties here and to France. You know the workings of the government well enough. I am sure you can uncover something."

Barty offered him a bow.

"Of course, my lord. Is there anything else?"

"No, you may get on with your task."

With that, Barty left, and the Dark Lord returned to pondering his own problem, his hand twitching towards his wand in anticipation of facing the boy once more.

(Break)

"Like that?" Daphne asked.

"Exactly," Harry said encouragingly. "Now, change the shape of it."

"Why would I change the shape of it?"

"Because you can concentrate all the power on the target you are trying to hit. If you can shape it to fit through a gap, the spell won't lose any of the intended effect."

Daphne nodded her understanding, biting her lower lip as she focused on her magic. She began to sweat and gasped as the ball of flame escaped her grasp on it.

It flew towards Harry, who brushed it aside, and it dissipated on the wall nearby.

"You did that without a wand," Daphne whispered.

"It's something I've been working on," Harry said with a shrug. "You lost focus."

"I know," Daphne groaned.

Harry offered her a look of sympathy.

"It's not easy magic," he comforted. "If you drop your concentration even a fraction, you'll lose control. What you're doing is beyond NEWT level already."

"Can you show me?"

With a nod, Harry conjured a fireball, though his was black rather than a standard red and orange of a fire-conjuring spell. Using his wand to guide his magic, he manipulated his creation in a myriad of shapes, eventually shifting it to the form of a spear and hurling it towards a training dummy.

His projectile penetrated through the chest and protruded through the back, the dummy being engulfed in fire before it was reduced to a pile of ash.

"I bet that hurts."

"Not for long," Harry snorted. "But you see how useful what I'm trying to teach you is. If you can do it with fire, you can do it with most things and with less effort."

"Shouldn't I be trying the easier things first?"

"Not when the principal is the same," Harry replied. "Once you master fire, water and air are not such a challenge."

"That makes sense," Daphne murmured. "I'll try again in a minute. I just need a break."

"It is tiring at first," Harry sympathised as he passed her a bottle of water and some chocolate, fetching his own of the former.

"Has something happened, Potter?" Daphne asked curiously. "You seem more distracted than usual."

Harry shook his head.

"No, nothing to do with the war," he sighed. "Something popped into my head, and I'm mulling it over."

"Anything I can help with?"

"I was going to ask you about it," Harry said tiredly. "Do you think I should have an heir?"

Daphne frowned at the question.

"Have you gotten someone pregnant?" she choked, shocked by the question.

"No, nothing like that. It's just that with the war and the possibility of dying. I'm the last Potter, and I don't want to be the reason my family dies out."

Daphne nodded thoughtfully.

"Well, in your position, I would make sense…"

"But?"

"It depends on a few things, Potter. If you have a child with someone and don't marry them, and you live and marry someone else, that could cause problems of inheritance. Your first child would be your legal heir, even if you choose not to acknowledge them in the future. Most wives would not like that. It has been a problem in the past for some families."

"I suppose that's not good."

"Not really," Daphne murmured. "But for you, it is different."

"How?"

"Because you're Harry Potter," Daphne said simply. "If you survive this war, it will be because you killed Voldemort. There will be many people who wouldn't mind so much if you already had an heir or pretend they don't and try to kill your first child. There are many families that would," she added at Harry's look of disgust.

"Bloody hell," Harry grumbled.

"It's a problem I wouldn't want to be faced with," Daphne mused aloud. "Is it something you're considering?"

Harry shrugged.

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "I suppose I have to decide if the potential future problems outweigh my desire to see my family continue, don't I?"

"Not necessarily," Daphne replied cautiously. "If you were to marry the person who was having your heir, it wouldn't be a problem."

"I'm not even seventeen."

"You will be soon," Daphne pointed out. "You'll receive dozens of offers to court eligible witches, and likely outright marriage. You'll have several options," she added with a slight grimace.

"Can't I avoid that?" Harry groaned. "That will just complicate things more."

The corner of Daphne's lips twitched.

"Not really," she informed him. "You can delay it, of course, but that won't stop the most keen. You can tell them you're not looking for marriage right now and that you'll consider their offers in the future."

"That could work."

"It could work against you," Daphne continued. "If you do that, most will decide to move on to other potential matches. When you decide you're ready, you could have very few choices."

Harry frowned.

"I'm not limited to purebloods."

"True," Daphne conceded, "but out of the three girls you spend the most time with, two of us are purebloods, and I don't think you plan on marrying Granger."

She was referring to herself and Gabrielle, unaware of Harry's friendship with Isabella.

"No, I couldn't marry someone like Hermione," he chuckled. "She'd drive me mad."

"The other problem is that you are so ingrained in the magical world now, Harry. I like to think I know you well enough to know that you couldn't go back to living in a mundane house with any ties to the muggle world. For your own reasons, you've distanced yourself from it."

He had.

Harry hadn't spent much time in the muggle since he'd left the Dursleys.

Perhaps it was that they soured that for him, or maybe he was just drawn to the magical world. It was where he felt he belonged, after all.

"Maybe you're right," he sighed. "I suppose it will be something I have to deal with sooner rather than later."

Daphne nodded knowingly.

"Like I said, you have the option of delaying it," she reminded him. "But if you want my honest opinion, I do not think you're going to lose this war."

"But there is that possibility."

"There is," Daphne acknowledged. "If I was in your position, I would probably find a witch to marry so that she could give me an heir. It would avoid possible complications and secure the future of my line, but it is your decision, Harry. Only you can make it."

"Thanks," Harry said gratefully.

"Has someone offered to give you an heir?" Daphne asked curiously.

"It has been mentioned," Harry answered truthfully.

"Oh," Daphne murmured. "Well, it is definitely an option for you then. Come on, I'm ready to try again," she added, offering him a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

(Break)

"I still don't think you're ready to be back on duty," Tonks murmured as they walked the length of Diagon Alley.

"I'm fine, Nymphadora," Cedric replied with a smirk, eliciting a glare from the woman.

"That's the first and last time you get away with that," she warned.

"Is that right?" Cedric asked amusedly. "What are you going to do about it?"

Tonks paused and stared at him.

"You've either spent too much time with Potter, or the giants have scrambled your brains. I'm not sure which one it is but…."

She fell silent as Cedric pressed his lips to hers and she melted into the kiss.

They broke apart a moment later with Tonks's head coming to rest on his shoulder and her grip tightened on the handful of Cedric's robes she had seized.

"Why did you have to do that?" she groaned.

"It seemed like a good way to shut you up," Cedric murmured.

Tonks looked up at him and shook her head.

"Isn't this a stupid idea?"

"No," Cedric answered. "Nearly dying has made me realise that I should at least try for the things I want. You are at the top of that list. The world is a miserable place. Shouldn't we be allowed to have some happiness?"

"And what makes you think this will make me happy?"

"If you tell me this isn't what you want, we can pretend this never happened," Cedric replied, "but you spent almost every hour you weren't on duty at my bedside."

"Potter."

Cedric shook his head.

"I heard you speaking to me. I can't remember everything you said, but I remember your voice. It helped me."

"Did it?"

Cedric nodded.

"I wasn't sure if I was going to make it," he said honestly, "but I'm here. The one thing I regretted more than anything else was not kissing you."

"And now you have."

"I have. Maybe I can die happy now," Cedric returned with a grin.

"For the love of Merlin, Diggory, shut up," Tonks huffed, her hair and cheeks flushing a deep red.

"Fine, I get it," Cedric snorted. "We will pretend it never happened. Come on, Auror Tonks, we have work to…"

He was cut off by the woman returning the gesture, pulling him into a kiss that Cedric did not hesitate to embrace.

He'd survived what most would deem to be impossible, and now, he was enjoying something he'd thought he'd never have.

Other than the war that plagued them, in this moment, he could not help but think that life was good.

(Break)

It was not often one would see James Potter in such a state of helplessness, but as he held Lily's hand whilst she endured yet another contraction, it was impossible to miss the look of concern marring his features.

"Is this normal, Poppy?"

"Very normal," the Healer assured him. "I expect it won't take much longer."

James nodded as he turned towards the exhausted Lily and wiped the sweat from her brow.

"Soon. It will be over soon."

The woman nodded, grimacing as another wave of pain washed over her.

Harry could only look on in a mixture of curiosity and horror, his own emotions warring with those of his father. Fear, excitement, adoration of his wife, and love for the child that would soon be born.

Each was as overwhelming as the other.

"You're doing well," Madam Pomfrey praised. "Just one more push."

Harry swallowed deeply at the sight of himself being placed into his mother's arms whilst James equally took in the sight.

Pride.

The man was unspeakably proud of his wife.

"A boy," Poppy informed him. "You have a son, James."

James Potter lost his composure, a sob wracking his body as he collapsed into the chair he'd just vacated.

"A boy," he choked. "It's a little boy, Lily!"

Harry stepped forward to get a better look as his mother shifted the blankets so she could look upon her son. It was a tuft of jet-black hair that greeted the Potters, and as the baby opened his eyes, James gasped.

"He has your eyes!" he exclaimed.

"I need to check him over in a moment," Poppy informed them.

"We need a name," Lily whispered. "What do you think, James?"

The man continued staring at his son for a moment.

"I don't know," he murmured. "What do you think?"

"Harry," Lily said with a smile. "He looks like a Harry to me."

James nodded approvingly.

"Harry James Potter."

Lily's lips quirked in amusement.

"Harry James Potter," she agreed as she offered the bundle of blankets to James.

He took Harry from her and cradled him against his chest, a feeling of completeness filling him.

"Look at his tiny hands," he whispered in amazement, overcome with a sense of warmth as Harry grabbed his finger. "Oh, he'll be a Seeker with that grip," he chuckled.

"May I?" Poppy requested.

James nodded and handed Harry to her, turning towards Lily whilst the baby was being checked.

"I cannot put into words how proud I am of you," he said sincerely. "You did amazingly."

He kissed her gently before his gaze shifted towards the Healer and waited for her assessment.

"You have a strong, healthy boy," Poppy declared.

"He's okay?" Lily asked.

Poppy offered her a bright smile.

"He is more than okay, my dear. Mark my words; he will be a strong wizard when he grows. I can feel it."

Harry wiped away his tears as he was pulled from the memory.

What happened to James and Lily had never felt so unfair, and yet, they had experienced perhaps the most joyful thing any could in life, and Harry's own desire to have a family of his own grew in the moments he was in the memory.

Eighteen months later, that joy was gone for his parents. They had left Harry behind, and he could not fathom just how terrible they would have felt in their final throes of life.

He would be a man himself in only a few weeks, and it would be sixteen years ago, come Halloween, that they had been taken from him. He visited their graves regularly, but it simply wasn't the same in any way.

Tom Riddle was the cause of it, not that Harry needed any further reminding of the transgressions the man had perpetrated against him.

Against his parents.

They had died to protect him, after all, and though as not as intended, their sacrifice had indeed seen him live.

It was odd.

Harry had always harboured a little anger that he'd been left alone in the world, but now, he could not bring himself to feel it, not towards his parents.

There was little else they could have done to keep him safe. The one mistake they'd made had been putting their trust in the wrong man to keep their secret.

Wormtail was dead, and Harry had ensured he had suffered agonisingly in his final moments.

Voldemort yet lived, but Fate would bring them together again and Harry would give his all to put an end to the Dark Lord. Then he could live in peace, and his parents could rest in it.

Swallowing deeply, he retrieved the stone he'd liberated from the Gaunt family ring and stared at it longingly.

As much as he wished for nothing more than to summon them, it did not quite feel right.

No, he'd know when the right moment came, and he fought the urge to do so, opting instead to summon another.

"Is it time for another lesson, Harry?" Godric asked.

Harry nodded.

"Then ready yourself, we will not be taking it easy on you anymore," Gawain warned as he drew his wand and his blade.

Godric did the same and Harry followed suit.

He hadn't felt like such an amateur since he'd first duelled with Charlus Potter, but between Godric and Gawain, they made him feel that way as he trained with both a sword and wand in hand.

Still, he was improving with each passing day, and though he hoped indulging in something that required all of his focus would help him forget all else on his mind, it did not work as intended.

Despite his best efforts, he could not fully remove himself from the memory of his own birth.

It truly had been a magical experience for him, and though he knew his time sharing in the lives of his parents was coming to an end, he couldn't be more grateful for all the Hallows had gifted him thus far.