Here it is. My one shot with Harry and Ginny. I want to thank two awesome betas. Alliekiwi from PerfectImagination.co.uk for helping me soooo much with Punctuation, Grammar, Briticisms, and for helping me put my own words together, even when I could not. Also, SIYE's own MinistryMalcontent for helping also with Punctuation, Grammar, and giving me several ideas involving the strategy Harry uses when conducting the raid. You are both amazing and thanks for your help!
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Fighting Never Ends | ||||
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Category: Post-DH/AB Characters:All Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Romance, Tragedy Warnings: Death, Disturbing Imagery, Extreme Language, Intimate Sexual Situations Story is Complete Rating: R Reviews: 5 Summary: It has been several years since Harry has defeated Voldemort. Harry has won himself the right to a loving family of his own. However, has the Wizarding World really become a better place? A series of events on a long, stressful day leads to Harry contemplating just what is worth fighting for. Hitcount: Story Total: 5235 Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work. Author's Notes: |
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Harry Potter had arrived home late from work. He lay back on his sofa, and put his feet up on the coffee table. It had been a long day at the office. Harry’s presence in the Wizengamot had been required for several trials of well known Death Eaters. After the war with Voldemort had been won, the Ministry had begun rounding up all the Death Eaters. Due to the vast number of Ministry detainees, a secure holding area had been created. Hermione had been pleased when they announced this. She said it was nearly the same thing as a Muggle remand center (whatever that was), and heavily approved of the Ministry using Muggle techniques. The trials had already taken a few years, and they would undoubtedly take a few more. Today, the trials had been for Lucius Malfoy and the Carrows. While the Carrows had been given life in Azkaban for child abuse, In Harry’s opinion, Lucius had it easy. Lucius would no doubt agree with Harry that the trial was a farce, although for totally different reasons. Five years ago, when Malfoy had caught wind of the warrant for his arrest, he took off. Harry himself had been part of that case. He had tracked Malfoy for six months before finally catching up with him. Of course, he didn’t come quietly either. Harry had to bring him in by force. As Malfoy had been brought in front of Minister Shacklebolt for his trial, Harry could see that the man was shaking. “Lucius Malfoy,” boomed the voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt as Malfoy was magically bound to the chair. “You are brought in front of the Wizengamot today on the charges of being a Death Eater. Additionally, you are hereby charged as follows," Kingsley gestured at the Court Scribe who stood and began to read from a scroll. “It has been reported that Lucius Malfoy has been involved with these Death Eater activities. Taking part in the kidnapping and confinement of Mr. Ollivander and Ms. Luna Lovegood, organizing and leading a raid on the Abbott family, being involved in the rape and murder of Madam Susan Bones…” Harry shuddered as the Court Scribe kept reading down the list. The charges seemed unending. After several minutes, Kingsley's voice was heard again. “Mr. Malfoy, you have heard the charges. What do you have to offer in your defense?” “Minister, those actions were not my own. I was under the influence of the Imperius Curse from the beginning,” stuttered Lucius Malfoy. Kingsley looked at the Auror guarding Malfoy and gave him a curt nod. The man rolled up Malfoy’s left sleeve to reveal a white scar that was the Dark Mark. “While Voldemort was cruel, he never branded the Dark Mark unto a follower unless they were of a mind to join him,” Kingsley stated. Malfoy’s eyes widened at the turn of events. “You must understand, I joined him in the first war! I was young and foolish! During the second war I was directly under the influence of his Imperius Curse!” At this point Harry was tired of his lies. Upon seeing Harry stand, Kingsley said, “The floor goes to Auror Potter.” “Mr. Malfoy. At the Battle of Hogwarts, you were concerned about your son Draco's safety. You did not fight in the battle; instead you tried everything in your power to find him. Correct?” “Yes, of course!” Malfoy urged, obviously keen to find any evidence that may prove him not a Death Eater. “Well then, Voldemort must have released you from the Imperius curse before the battle. If he was concerned about your loyalties, why would he do that?” Harry asked. Malfoys eyes widened in horror. “No! You must understand!” “Understand what, Mr. Malfoy? I had to track you for six months after the warrant for your arrest was issued.” Harry paused for a moment as he stared the man down. “Guilty conscience, Lucius?” Harry asked. At this the entire courtroom broke into hushed conversations. “Order! There will be order!” roared Kingsley. The courtroom fell silent, and Harry took his seat feeling victorious. “Those in favor of clearing the accused of all charges?” Kinglsey asked. Harry looked up to see around fifteen hands in the air. His mouth dropped in shock. He was not the only one disturbed. “NO!” Malfoy shouted, thrashing around in his chains. “Under the Wizengamot Charter of Rights I am allowed a witness to testi…” With a flick of his wand, Kingsley had silenced Malfoy. Upon seeing him continuing to thrash in his chair, Kingsley said, “Mr. Malfoy, if you can not restrain yourself, we will be forced to restrain you with a full body bind.” Upon this, Malfoy sat back hopelessly. “Those in favor of finding the accused guilty of the charges?” This time the rest of the hands went up, way more than half. “Lucius Malfoy, you have been found guilty of the charges brought against you. I hereby sentence you to thirty years in Azkaban, with no chance of parole for fifteen years. Court is dismissed.” Harry could not believe what he had just witnessed. He would get the parole after fifteen, Harry was sure of it. While the Ministry detainee holding area was still accommodating many Death Eaters, the prison was so full now a days that parole was nearly a given with good behavior. Harry’s vision was blurred with red. He should have taken the bastard out when he was given the chance. There were virtually no rules regarding lethal spellwork when an Auror is forced into a duel. After the trial, Harry had stormed back to his office in a rage. Slamming his office door behind him, without thinking he threw his right fist into the wall. Harry heard the crack of his hand breaking before he felt the pain. “Bloody hell Harry! What was that about?” Harry turned around to see Ron laying down on the tiny loveseat in the corner of his office. Ron stood up and pushed Harry down in the seat. “Give me your hand” Ron ordered. Ron ran his wand gently over Harry’s hand while muttering a complex spell that Harry faintly recognized, but did not know. Finally a sharp glow of light escaped the tip of his wand as Harry’s hand healed. “Thanks…” Harry muttered. “Where did you learn that?” Ron turned and sat down on Harry’s desk. “Hermione taught me that one last week when Rose broke her leg. Anyway, what has you in a fuss?” Harry sighed. He drew his wand and waved it at the hole in the wall to repair it. “I just came from the Malfoy trial.” Ron’s face fell. “What did he get?” he asked quietly. “Thirty years total, parole after fifteen.” “BLOODY HELL!” Ron roared, suddenly on his feet again. With another wave of his wand, Harry cast a silencing charm on the room. “I know… tell me about it.” “THAT BASTARD! AFTER EVERYTHING HE’S DONE!” Harry moved behind his desk and opened the bottom drawer. He pulled out a half-empty bottle of Firewhiskey, and two grungy looking glasses. With a wave of his wand Harry cleaned the glasses and refilled the bottle. He poured two generous amounts. “Ron. Why do we do this?” Harry asked as he handed Ron his glass. “Do what, drink?” Ron asked as he threw back a good amount of the amber liquid. “I chased Malfoy around England for six months. What was it for? Fifteen years? He was right in the middle of Voldemort's inner circle! Everyone knows that!” Harry shouted. “Shit... Fifteen is still better than letting him get away. I have a hard time believing that anyone other than you would have caught up to him” Ron mused. “Fifteen years is a joke, Ron,” Harry muttered, sipping his drink. Ron downed the rest of his glass. “Yeah it is, but what’s done is done. Don’t let it get to you. By the way, I need a favor. I can’t work Thursday this week. Can I swap it for Sunday night?” Ron asked. “Sure” Harry said, as he scribbled himself a note to change the schedule. “You’re just lucky your boss is your best mate.” “Brilliant, Harry!” Ron said as he stood to leave. “Where are you going?” “I have to head to the Shop. I promised George that I’d help him close tonight.” “Right. See you tomorrow,” Harry said as Ron waved and left the room. “Erm Harry, you’ve got some visitors,” Ron added as he poked his head back inside. Harry cursed under his breath, and waved his wand to vanish the Firewhiskey. He had promised the Prophet an interview on his discovery of the Polyjuice black-market. What Ron was really telling him, was to get rid of the commodity before the Prophet caught the future Head Auror drinking on the job. Harry was brought back to the present when he felt a pressure around his abdomen. He opened his eyes to see Ginny straddling him around his waist. “Hey there, sleepy,” she said soothingly. Harry budged over so she could lie down on the sofa and turned on his side so he could remain next to her. Harry rubbed her protruding stomach. “How are my girls doing?” he asked. Ginny looked down at her bulging stomach and smiled. “She’s a feisty one. Kicking me more than either of her brothers ever did.” “Speaking of her brothers…” “Both asleep. James dozed right off, but Al was a little fussy. Bottle of warm milk fixed that.” Harry leaned in and kissed her. “Asleep huh… Well… in that case…” Harry said in between breaths. At least there would be an upside to this day. Ginny’s hands moved into his hair and she made a content purring sound. As Harry’s hands slowly moved to the front of her pants, Ginny turned her attention to the buttons on his shirt. Just as she pulled his shirt off, they both felt a sharp bit of heat emanate from his badge, still inside his left pocket. It was ministry regulation that he keep it on his person at all times. “God dammit!” Harry muttered, as he pulled it out of his pocket. It read, Team Potter, report to M.A.P 6 for briefing. “Duty Calls, Auror Potter,” Ginny mumbled quietly. Harry looked up at her and saw the obvious disappointment in her eyes. “Today is not my day,” Harry replied as he buttoned his shirt. Harry quickly pulled on his Auror robes, and pinned his badge to the front. “Please be careful…” Ginny whispered as she hugged him goodbye. “I always am, love,” Harry replied as he stroked her cheek. Harry gave her a chaste kiss and turned on the spot to Disapparate. When Harry had joined the force, he had suggested to Kingsley that the Aurors form strike squads. Harry had recommended the idea after watching how the Muggle police dealt with raids. Seeing as the Hit Wizards had been merged in with the Aurors, just about everyone had taken to the idea. There were now Strike Teams Potter, Weasley, and Dawlish. Team Weasley often took the less-experienced Aurors, seeing as Ron was only available at certain times. For obvious reasons, team Weasley never took any critical cases. Team Potter and team Dawlish rotated as much as possible to handle the arising situations. Harry appeared within the Ministry, and saw the sign that said, ‘Ministry Apparition Point 6.’ Good. All ten of the Apparation points looked exactly the same. There had been that one embarrassing time when he had Apparated one point off from where he was supposed to be. Harry turned and saw other various members of his squad gathering around Gawain Robards, the current Head of the Department. “There has been a reported break-in at the Boot residence. Neighboring wizards saw flashes of light inside the house and they immediately notified the Department.” Robards then tapped a projector with his wand, and the floor plan of the Boot’s house was displayed on the wall for the squad to observe. “There are two Portkeys here ready for your transportation. I turn control over to Mr. Potter, as he will be heading the raid.” Harry and the others studied the floor plan for just a moment. “Right. Potter 2 take the front door. Finnigan is heading Potter 2. I’ll be heading Potter 1 through the back door.” Harry looked right at Seamus. “Unless the front door is sealed, don’t force it in. I want to take them by surprise if possible. Wait for my signal before entering.” Harry liked to divide up his squad into two groups. He had learned from experience that staying together as one group was often less effective. He preferred to use one of the groups as a cavalry, or to even trick the enemy to move into a crossfire. The two teams took their corresponding Portkeys and suddenly, the Ministry was left behind them. For a fleeting moment, Harry remembered his days as a Junior Auror. This sort of a situation would have excited him. He had not joined the force for paper pushing or interviews. Now however, he felt only angst. So many lives were held in his hands. Harry’s feet slammed into the ground. He threw aside the Portkey, and he and his team crouched down in the nearby woods. Harry immediately cast an Anti-Apparition Ward on the area, followed by an Anti-Portkey ward. No one was getting out of here. “Homenum Revelio,” Harry muttered. There were five people in the building, most probably Terry, his wife and child, and two others. Harry put his wand to the face of his watch. “Potter 2, this is Potter 1, there are five beings in the building. Be aware.” “Affirmative Potter 1” replied the voice of Seamus Finnigan. “Move out.” His team jogged silently but deliberately to the back door. They hid on either side of it, careful to avoid being seen through any windows. Harry hesitated for a few seconds, and then put his wand to the face of his watch again. “Potter 1 in position, respond Potter 2.” “Affirmative Potter 1, Potter 2 in position,” replied Seamus. “Go.” Harry turned the doorknob to find it locked. “Alohomora,” he muttered. The lock clicked and his team moved soundlessly through the kitchen. Harry turned to the living room to see two cloaked wizards pointing their wands at two motionless, levitated figures. Harry stepped out of the shadows with his wand pointed at the nearest wizard. “Stupefy!” The person turned in surprise, but was not able to dodge the flash of red light. It hit him square in the chest and he collapsed to the floor. The other wizard immediately pointed his wand at Harry, and Harry wordlessly cast a shield charm around him, but it was unnecessary. Before the second attacker could even open his mouth, he was hit with no less than five separate stunning spells that had flown from the other side of the room. The force of the attack threw him into the wall, and he fell to the floor unconscious. Harry looked up at the figures and his stomach turned over. The figures, a man and a woman, had been stripped of all their clothes, and had been hung by their necks. Across their naked chests, the word ‘Mudblood’ was carved deep into their skin. Their blood had run down their fronts, and Harry wondered just how much blood they had already lost. Harry was strangely drawn towards the scene. As he approached he recognized the male as Terry Boot. Stopping only when he saw the blood dripping off of Terry’s big toe, his attention snapped back to the situation at hand. “Potter 1, get them down! Potter 2, secure the surrounding area, and check the interior for enchanted objects!” Harry ordered. “Dammit Potter!” Harry thought to himself. He should have done that the moment the suspects had been downed. He knew that his hesitation could have cost them their lives if there had been an ambush moving in. The teams complied. Half of Potter 2 immediately began moving outside, and the other half began exploring the dark house. As his team set to work, Harry turned his attention to the two unconscious prisoners. With a flick of his wand, the two turned into upward sitting position. They looked oddly like marionettes. With a wave of his wand, magical rope bound the two prisoners. Harry levitated them into the front entryway and sat them down. Harry hesitated, trying to decide what to do next. He pointed his wand at the door. “Colloportus.” The door sealed itself with a squelching sucking sound. Harry then turned his attention to the nearby windows. After having sealed those, Harry returned to the sitting room to find the rest of the team waiting there. Most had looks of nausea on their face. Even in their field of work, this was a sorry sight. Two members of Potter 1 were bending over their respective figures, attempting CPR. Another member of Potter 1 was holding what appeared to be a three or four year old child. The boy's eyes were round as saucers as he looked at his parents lying lifelessly on the floor. He was visibly shaking. Harry felt a pang of guilt in his gut. The boy would have nightmares for the rest of his life. “Take him to the kitchen. He doesn’t deserve to see this,” Harry said. As the member of his team left with the child, Harry pointed his wand at the kitchen entryway. “Muffliato,” Harry muttered. “Status?” Harry asked. “No pulse in either. Identities have been confirmed as Terry and Angela Boot. Both Muggleborns, sir.” “Keep trying to revive them… Seamus, arrange emergency transport to St. Mungo's.” Harry ordered before turning his attention to Dennis Creevey. “Did you check their wands?” Harry asked. “Yes, Harry. Evidence of defensive spells from both attackers. Terry and Angela must have put up a real fight. I’m guessing once they had disarmed the pair of them, they used ‘Incarcerous’ to conjure the rope and hang them. Then they used simple carving spells on their chests.” Harry noticed that Dennis hesitated for a moment before proceeding further. “Harry, they didn’t break their necks. They let them strangle. Meanwhile, they used the Cruciatus curse on them both.” Harry felt sick to his stomach. He could not imagine a more horrible way to die. A voice from behind him brought him back to the present. “Sir, we need you to release the Apparition ward so we can get them out of here.” Harry nodded and waved his wand to release the ward. He heard two separate pops as the two members of his team took the Boots to the emergency ward of St. Mungo's. Harry knew from experience that once a pulse was gone, there was very little the healers could do for them, even with wizarding medicine. Not to mention the fact that they had already lost so much blood, which still lay in dark pools on the floor. As soon as they were gone, Harry reset the ward. He breathed in slowly, but deeply, and sighed as he entered the kitchen. The boy still wore the same pained facial expression. “Hey there buddy, can you tell me what your name is?” Harry asked kindly. “Joooeeeey” the child sobbed. “It’s going to be okay, Joey I’m going to send you to someone who can take care of you until your parents come back, all right? The child nodded. Harry immediately felt guilty about telling him that his parents would come back. But, was there any reason to scare the child now? No... There was not. Harry nodded to the Auror holding the child, and they left the house to Dissapparate. Harry felt the fury within him as he walked back into the entryway to face the still unconscious men. Harry recognized the one that he himself had stunned. “Rennervate.” The man slowly opened his eyes and began to glare at Harry as Harry crouched down to his level. “My name is Auror Potter. What is your name?” The man merely continued to glare at him. “I will repeat. What is your name?” Upon the man's continued silence, Harry shook his head and said, “You are facing a life sentence in Azkaban. If you fail to cooperate with us, I will make sure that you will lose any chance of parole you could ever get. I will repeat the question, what is your name? The man gave him another glare before replying, “Christopher Lawson.” Harry rolled up the man's left sleeve to check his forearm. “You’re not a Death Eater, and I’ve never heard of you. What were your intentions here?” The man laughed maniacally. “To kill the Mudbloods!” Harry stared at the man in disbelief. “What did the Boots ever do to you?” The man looked at him for a second. “Are they dead?” he asked, with an unmistakable gleam in his eyes. He felt no regret at all. Harry shoved his wand in the man's face, causing him to go cross-eyed. This was not what he had fought Tom Riddle for. The bloody war was over. They had won. This was not what his friends had fought and died for. This was not the world they had wanted to create. Harry had known Terry Boot. He had taught him in Dumbledore’s Army. Terry had fought at the final battle. He now deeply regretted not maintaining a relationship with the man. Harry had sworn to himself that he would never use an Unforgivable Curse ever again, but was finding it very difficult to resist using the Cruciatus Curse now. He desperately wanted to make this piece of shit pay for what he had done. To make him feel just a fraction of the pain that little Joseph would feel in the years to come. Harry knew that pain firsthand. Sparks flew out of Harry’s wand into the man's wide eyes. The man howled in pain. “You will rot in Azkaban for the rest of your life. I will make sure of it. Then you will rot in hell for the rest of your god dammed existence” Harry snarled. “This was not what we fought for,” Harry thought as he walked back into the sitting room. As he entered, he saw that the rest of Potter 1 was waiting for him. Harry sighed and ran his hand through his hair. In a case like this, he would need to personally file the report at the ministry. He knew that it would take hours. “Okay, team. Good work tonight. The two prisoners are in the entry way. One is fully awake and conscious. Escort them both to Azkaban to await the trial, and then go home to your families. Finnigan, Creevey, I will require both of you to testify along with me in the event that Terry and Angela Boot don’t recover. Harry once again put his wand to the face of his watch. “Potter 2, this is Potter 1, we are done here. Good work team, you are dismissed.” As his team gathered around the captives, Harry released all of his wards and they all Disapparated. ----------------------- ---------------------------------------- --------------------------- It wasn’t until early next morning that Harry finished his report. He Disapparated home, and quietly opened the front door. Upon entering the sitting room, he found Ginny asleep on the sofa. She had fallen asleep waiting up for him. A smile filled his face as he bent down and kissed her on the forehead. Every time Harry was out on a late night call she tried to wait up for him. Even though she had always fallen asleep, the gesture always made Harry feel emotionally giddy. He gently picked her up and carried her to their bedroom. It would not be good for her back if she continued to sleep on the sofa with the baby. As Harry returned to the sitting room, he peeked into the boys’ room to see little Albus sleeping peacefully. James’s bed however, was empty. Harry frowned. His three and a half year old son could get into heaps of trouble when he was unsupervised. He definitely took after his Uncle George. It was near impossible to find a babysitter for ‘The Potter Children.’ Harry walked into the kitchen to find the little black haired boy standing on a chair looking at the top of the kitchen cabinets. He was staring upwards with intense concentration. Harry instantly knew what he was trying to do. He sneaked up behind his son and wordlessly cast ‘Wingardium Leviosa.” As the boy began to slowly rise, Harry would have loved to see the look on his face. James must have thought that he was levitating himself, because he did not turn around. When he became even with the top of the counters, his hand went out and grabbed the toy broomstick that his mother had hidden there. Harry slowly brought him back down. “Daddy!” James exclaimed when he saw his father. He leapt into his father's arms and gave him a large one-armed hug. “What do you have there, son?” Harry asked. “Daddy, I want fly!” James shouted. Harry frowned. About a month ago, Harry had bought the broom for his son. He was bound and determined to get him in the air as quickly as possible. With the Quidditch genes that he would certainly inherit from both his mother and father, the boy had quite the legacy to live up to. However, the flying experience a week ago had ended with James falling off the broom and skinning his knees. Ginny had yelled at her husband for at least half an hour. Dark wizards intent on torture and killing, no problem. His wife however, he was afraid of. Despite the circumstances, one look into James chocolate eyes was enough to convince him. “Don’t tell your mother…” he muttered. --------------------------- ---------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------- ------------------- Harry took James into the garden and quickly cast the necessary wards. He made a cylinder-shaped ward that roughly encircled the garden. Harry made a point to keep Ginny’s favorite flower bed out of the picture. He didn’t need any dead giveaways. With a quick reversing spell, he made it so that the ward would keep James in, rather than keep him out. With a cry of excitement, James kicked into the air and began flying as fast as his broom would permit, no faster than a slight jog for a grown wizard. After giving his son a minute to warm up, Harry reached into his pocket and removed a practice Snitch. He had not told Ginny yet, but James was going to be a Seeker, just like his father. With a tap of his wand he set the speed of the snitch to the exact speed of his sons broom. With another strangled gasp of excitement from James, Harry released the Snitch into the warded area. Harry sat down on the grass with his wand out, ready to catch his son should he fall. After watching James for a minute, Harry chuckled to himself. The way James was looking at that Snitch, you would have thought that he was going for the win in the Quidditch World Cup. James would just get into position to catch it, but would hesitate to take his right arm off the broom. The hesitation was all it needed for the Snitch to escape him. Harry sat watching his son fly for around half an hour. There was no greater joy than watching James ride his toy broomstick. Finally James caught up to the Snitch again. All of a sudden his right arm flew out and grabbed wildly at it. The next thing Harry knew, James fell off his broom and landed in a pile of leaves that Ginny had raked the day before. Harry sprinted over to where his son fell. “James! Are you ok?” James popped his head out of the pile and waved his hand wildly in the air. He had caught the Snitch. “I caught it! I caught it! I caught it!” James chanted. Harry picked up his son and tossed him into the air. “That’s my boy! You’re going to make a brilliant Seeker one day!” Harry looked down at his watch and saw that it was about the time his wife usually woke up. Harry waved his wand and rid the garden of the ward. He carried James inside and set him down on the foot of the stairs. “Remember… not a word to your mother…” Harry breathed. James nodded enthusiastically and ran off to his bedroom. Harry took the toy broomstick back into the kitchen. “Wingardium Leviosa!” The broom began rising back to its previous location above the counters. “Harry Potter!” called a stern voice behind him. Harry looked around to see Ginny scowling at him with James on her hip. “OUCH!” Harry cried as the broom landed on his head. “What did I tell you about James flying?” “Love, what makes you think that I would take James flying?” Harry pleaded as he hid the toy broom behind his back. “Several reasons. How about the leaves in his hair? The Snitch in his hand? Or the toy broomstick behind your back?” Harry thought to himself for a moment. There was only one way out of this situation. “He caught the Snitch Gin, he was brilliant!” Harry offered. Ginny was smiling at him now. “Oh, but he fell in the process? For shame. It looks like he will have to be a Chaser after all,” she chuckled. “Hey, now! Didn’t I ever tell you about my first match? I fell off the broom and caught it in my mouth! There is still plenty of hope for little James here.” “Is that so?” Ginny purred as Harry put his arms around her and his son. “Mmmhmmmm.” Ginny put Harry back out at arms length. “What am I going to do with you Potter? I think the same punishment as last time is in order.” Harry smirked. “No! Please! Not that again!” Harry said in mock horror. Ginny looked at her stomach and rubbed it happily. “Well we don’t have to worry about that anymore, do we?” Before Harry could respond they heard a loud yawn as little Albus stumbled into the room. With Harry’s eyes, and the signature ‘Potter black mop’ on his head, he looked exactly like his father. Ginny shifted James over to Harry and bent down to pick up her youngest son. “Well look who finally woke up!” she cooed. Harry looked at his beautiful wife and child as Ginny blew raspberries on Albus’s stomach. Harry reached over and slowly tickled his son's side. Albus let out a yelp of laughter. “Harry wrapped the four of them — five counting his unborn child — in an all-inclusive hug. At this moment, Harry had a sudden realization: there would always be other dark wizards around. Having Voldemort dead didn’t make it all stop. Voldemort had been worth fighting. This, right here, was worth fighting for. |
| Reviews 5 |
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