Harry Potter sat on his bed reading that day’s daily prophet. His wife, Ginny Weasley was in their daughter, Lily, room tucking her in for bed.
Harry had just sat his glasses on his bedside table, when his six year old son, Albus came into the bedroom wearing his dragon pajamas and carrying his stuffed lion.
Harry, after putting his spectacles back on, said, “what’s wrong, Al?”
He held his arms out to his son who came running into them cradling his lion to his small chest.
“Daddy?” said Albus, his little voice being interrupted by a yawn.
“Yes.”
“What did Uncle Fred look like?” asked Albus, looking up at Harry with expectant eyes.
Ginny walked into the room, dressed in her night gown, and pulling her hair out of the ponytail she had had it in that day. Upon seeing her Albus staring at Harry stroking his lion’s mane, she silently backtracked and shut the door.
“Well,” said Harry after a few seconds of contemplating his answer, “He looked like Uncle George.” He looked at his son who was nodding silently, but could tell Albus wasn’t finished yet.
“They didn’t look different at all?” asked the little boy, curiously.
“Their personalities were a bit different,” answered Harry, who was trying to think of a way to answer these questions so his son could understand them. “Uncle Fred was a little more loud and…out-going.”
“Uncle George isn’t quiet.” Said Albus slightly confused.
“No, he definitely is not,” Agreed Harry, with a small smile.
His son’s face scrunched up in concentration. “Did they play a lot of pranks dad?”
“Yup, all the time!”
“Cool!” whispered the six year old. This boy was the exact replica of his father, minus the scar.
“Did they ever get in trouble?” asked the boy with an awed tone.
“Yes, sometimes at school, but mostly from their mom.” Answered the man, looking fondly at his son.
“Grandma!” said Albus in excitement.
Harry chuckled and ruffled his son’s hair, “yes, Grandma!”
“Do you miss him?” Asked Albus, suddenly.
“Yes, all the time, so does your mum.”
The door creaked open again, and Ginny walked in, this time coming to lay on her side of the bed; Harry and hers son in between them.
Albus snuggled under the covers and pulled the blankets up to his chest, tucking his lion in with him.
Harry turned out the lights, putting his glasses back on the table, and rolled over to face his wife and son.
“Love you, Dad,” Said a little voice out of the darkness.
“Love you too, Al,” Harry replied, reaching his arm across his son and grabbing his wife’s hand.
Ginny squeezed his hand and pulled it up to her cheek. Harry realized she had listened to the whole conversation he had with Albus. He was glad she had heard. Truthfully, he would have told her the whole thing anyway, and this spared him from having to relive the whole conversation. The little snores from the boy filled the air, and Harry, for the millionth time, was so very thankful he was alive.
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