Teddy approached him cautiously, wearing a smile.

"Can I give you a hug?" he asked tentatively. "I saw how much Uncle Arthur hurt you when he did, I don't want to hurt you."

"I can take it," Ron promised with a wink, and gave another to his dad, who looked mortified.

A massive grin spread across the boy's face and then he was in Ron's arms, hugging just as fiercely but a great deal more gently than he had hugged Harry.

"I need to tell you about the save I made the other day," Teddy said, not pulling away. "It was brilliant. I was hanging off my broom by my knees – Nan had kittens."

.............................................

"It's so weird," Teddy muffled against him.

"What's weird?" Ron asked, messing up his hair, which was bleaching to a lighter shade of lilac.

"There's a baby in here." Teddy gently nudged Ron's belly with his head.

Ron opened his mouth but hesitated, unsure of how to respond.

"I completely agree," he said after a moment of indecision. "Very weird."

Teddy pulled back and grinned up at him. "Does it mean you can't do stuff?"

"Like what?"

"Like take me up on Uncle George's broom! He's got a Firebolt III! Can you believe it?"

"Sure, but why not him?"

"He's not you," Teddy said matter-of-factly, and there was no way Ron could have stopped his pleased blush from spreading over his face.

.....................................

Teddy needed feeding and amusing and, without work to serve as a disruption, he had Ron's undivided attention, something which thrilled the nine-year-old boy. Harry understood completely – Ron's total concentration and love channelled in one's direction was a beautiful thing to experience.

................................................

That piqued Harry's interest. It had been a while since they'd had a level five. Even the raid which saw Ronald Weasley at home with a baby in an unnatural womb had only been rated as a four. He'd faced off vampire covens at three and a small werewolf pack at two.

The word 'five' had injected a little energy into the room. Harry fought back a smile – most people that became Aurors were adrenalin junkies, so the dangerous mission meant that everybody was suddenly listening.

.....................................

"I understand, honeybear." Hermione suddenly grimaced and went pink. "Oh, Godric. I can't call you that any more, can I?"
"I never gave you permission to call me that," Ron said dryly. "You just did it anyway and I didn't have the heart to tell you to stop."

...........................................

"Come with me?" she asked suddenly. "Just one last time. To say goodbye."

"I've said goodbye."

"Have you? When?"

"The other night when I came round to get the last of my stuff. Went from room to room moping like the sad little man I am. It was damned emotional I'll have you know. Had a really deep and meaningful conversation with that bookcase in your office."

....................................................

"It was a really crappy film," Teddy offered.

"Oi!" Ron huffed. "Less of that. Your grandmother will have me up by the short and curlies if she hears you talking like that."

"She's in Greece, she can't hear me." Teddy poked his tongue out and stuffed a potato in his mouth.

"Bloody good job too," Ron muttered with a roll of his eyes.

Teddy grinned to himself.

"You mean if his Nan hears him talking like you." Harry smiled at Ron.

"There's nothing wrong with the way I speak."

Ron went red as both Harry and Teddy stared at him; Teddy started laughing first and then they were all at it. Ron looked distinctly disgruntled.

..................................................

Harry poked his head inside the room that Teddy had commandeered as his own and smiled as he found it dark but with an odd glow of light emitting from under the duvet.

"Ted, how many times? You don't have to hide to stay up reading," he said, sitting down on the edge of the mattress. He pulled the duvet back to reveal a grinning Teddy with mad hair and a torch in hand. "What are you reading?"

"My favourite."

Harry knew what Teddy's favourite was – the edited version of 'Hogwarts: A History', which had been updated to include the Battle of Hogwarts and had chapters on notable pupils who had fought both the first and second wars.

In short, Teddy was reading about his dead parents and the aunts, uncles and family friends who he adored.

"Nan hates it," Teddy said quietly, closing the cover. "I think it just reminds her of stuff... and she says I shouldn't live in the past when I have so much ahead."

"She's a wise woman, your Nan is," Harry had to agree.

But he too had grown up not knowing the touch of his parents. He knew what it was to lie there in the dark and hope against hope that it had been a cruel joke – that suddenly they'd be there, banging down the front door just to get to him, to love him.

Half of his dream had come true in the form of Hagrid turning up like a Giant Fairy Godmother with a pink umbrella and a birthday cake. Hagrid had brought him a life.

Harry still wasn't sure if he would have swapped life as he knew it for a life where his parents never died and he grew up loved, looked after and cherished. He wasn't sure he'd ever be able to make that call.

But if Teddy wanted to lie there and read about his parents over and over, Harry wasn't going to stop him. He'd done enough of that himself.

"Budge up," he advised.

Teddy moved over for him happily and Harry laid down on his front. He opened the book and without even having to think about it, turned to the pages which held pictures and information about his own parents.

"This is my mum and dad," he said. "There's Sirius." He stroked the copy of their wedding photograph.

"Where's my dad?" Teddy asked eagerly.

"He's the one taking the picture, I think. It's the only one I've got."

"Your mum looks so nice."

"Mm. She was. But she wasn't as nice as she could have been."

Teddy frowned but didn't ask.

"If she'd found it in her to be a little kinder... to someone who loved her, maybe everything might have turned out differently. But I don't blame her. Just really wish everything could have been different."

Me too," Teddy said solemnly. "I wish Nan didn't cry every time my hair changes colour. I can't help it but sometimes it's like she can't look at me any more."

Harry sighed and nudged Teddy with his shoulder. "It's hard. Your mum was a very special person. So was your dad though he'd never have believe you if you'd said it."

"It's weird, isn't it... to miss people you never even knew?"

"Not weird at all. You dream of what you could have had. I think that's the most normal thing in the world, just for people like us it's because of a crappy hand of fate."

His nine-year-old companion thought about that for a while before he nodded.

"And now you're going to have a baby, and you get to give it what you didn't have. A mum and dad. Love. Well. Two dads, I guess."

"Two dads," Harry agreed, nodding.

"Harry?"

"Mm?"

"When did you know you that you loved Ron? Like, love loved him."

"Why do you want to know about that?"

Harry closed the cover of the book and smoothed his fingers over it.

"I just wondered. If it was something you knew all along. Because I kind of like that. I like that you got him in the end. That you're together now and you're going to have a baby even if he's not completely happy. About the baby, I mean."

"You've noticed that, eh?"

Teddy shrugged. "I've got eyes. And when he wakes up in the morning, he's got this look - like he really doesn't want to get up and carry on but he does. He does it for you."

Hitting a little too close to the mark for Harry's comfort, he sat up and rubbed his nose.

"So he must really love you too."

"I guess he does." Harry tried to find a smile.

"What's wrong?" Teddy asked softly.

"My advice to you is that you should stay nine forever, mate," Harry said. "It's a lot easier, trust me."

"I'll stay nine forever if I can stay here with you two forever."

"And there was me worrying that you were bored out of your brains."

"No way! Ron's so cool. The other day he was showing me how to slide down the bannisters into the hallway.... um. He made me promise not to tell you that."

"I'll bet he did," Harry muttered darkly.

"I love it here. I don't want to go home yet."

"Well, you're here until after Ron's birthday anyway, so no need to get all mopey just yet, Ted."

"Can we do something awesome for it? Like go to a theme park?"

"Er, not sure a day of rollercoasters is quite the ticket for a pregnant man of six months."

He promised Teddy that he would consider Ron's birthday properly and picked up Hogwarts: A History.

"Go to bed, Teddy."

"I'm in bed."

"Then go to sleep."

A frustrated huff was his only answer and Harry found himself smiling as he stepped out onto the landing and pull the door to behind him.

.................................................

"What were you doing?"

"Ted wanted to make some cookies to take with him to mum's... not that he needed to because she's always got enough food on hand to feed a small army. But he kept on and it was just easier to let him do it. But we got into a bit of a food fight along the way. So there may or may not be cookie dough on the ceiling. I had absolutely nothing to do with it, though. It was all him."

Harry laughed as he turned over to face Ron and kissed him on the end of his long nose. "Whatever you say."

..........................................................

"I think you should remind yourself of something." Hermione's words were rushed – clearly she'd been holding them in for some time.

"You took him away from me. You ruined my marriage!"

"And you had the love of my fucking life!" Harry shouted back. "And he loved us both. Loves. Fuck."

He chewed on the inside of his cheek.

"And yet you know that, but you stopped him from coming to me when he needed me. When he wanted friendship you couldn't bear the thought of him sharing it with me."

"Because you were his wife! He loves you! He had sex with you! He's only with me because of a circumstance. If you were me, would you want him with someone he clearly still has feelings for? Honestly?"

"Oh and if he lost the baby tomorrow, he'd be back in our house just like that? He'd leave you, would he? No!" Hermione laughed bitterly. "No, Harry. He'd always choose you because he has always chosen you. You won, Harry. Stop sticking the fucking knife in."

He knew he'd pushed her too far then, to make her use that particular swear word.

He had no response, because he knew that's what he was doing.

"He's a big boy, Harry. He can pick his own battles. If he wants to be my friend he will be to the best of his ability. And I will love him as I always have, whether you're uncomfortable with that or not. I'm sorry. But I can't imagine a world where I won't cherish him. And I won't apologise for that, because you caused it – you broke everything. Everything important in my life you've broken. My education, my relationship with my parents after the obliviation in the war and now my marriage. I'm not fucking sorry!"

..........................................

Marriage. Married. Their family wanted them to get married. Harry remembered Ron and Hermione's wedding day like it was yesterday. The way Ron had looked so handsome in his formal robes. The way his face had lit up when Hermione walked down the aisle towards him and the way she'd been glowing when she broke even with him and grabbed his hand.

He'd already been in love with Ron by that point, but he'd not confessed as much. Harry had spent the day torn between insane jealousy and sheer joy. His two best friends in love and married. Ginny by his side.

It had all seemed so perfect. Saccharine, but perfect.

..................................................

"There's my good girl," Harry cooed.

He was sat in relatively shallow water in the bath, with Lily propped up in between his legs. She wasn't too keen on baths but seemed to prefer them when she shared with one of them.

Despite the fact that he was slightly chilly, Harry had no issue with giving her that assurance. It put them close together, skin to skin, and Lily was burbling happily to herself and enjoying hitting the surface with her little fists.

Finding himself smiling, Harry stroked her hair and looked at the tiny curve of her little nose – Ron's nose through and through. There was so much of Ron in her that some days he struggled to see his own resemblance. The eyes, of course, were blatant. Molly insisted that parents always saw more of the other in their child than themselves and Ron was insistent that Lily was the spit of Harry.

But the freckles, the red hair. Lily was a Weasley.

Humming to himself Harry took a moment to stare out of the window to the summer night outside. The weather had turned balmy earlier than expected and he could hear the sounds of the city enjoying itself on a Friday night. Sometimes he found himself longing to be out there with the workers and the revellers, resenting his status as a new parent. He and Ron had barely had any time alone together over the past month, and sleep was a rarity. Lily had taken to screaming between the hours of one to four and as much as he would have liked to have put the pillow over his head and ignored her sometimes, the reality was that Ron couldn't perform the distraction spells on his own.

Harry let his finger be drawn into one of Lily's fists and watched her for a while. Ron was taking the chance for a decent head start on a night's sleep whilst Harry bathed and put Lily down.

He was keeping a lid on his worry over Ron, or at the very least was attempting to hide how much he was worrying.

His beautiful redheaded boyfriend seemed to be looking more drawn, paler and thinner by the day. He was constantly tired and never seemed to take nourishment from anything.

The only thing he did have and seemed to feed from was joy. He took joy in their daughter and their relationship. Despite everything else he had a smile on his face for the two of them.

A loud giggle sounded through the bathroom then. Harry smelt why before he saw it, but when he glanced down he knew it was as bad as he'd feared.

"This is what's called a poonami. We've discussed this, Lily. You promised you wouldn't do it again." Harry sighed and reached for his wand, with every second blessing magic and his ability to do it.

He managed to vanish all traces of faeces and sent a few extra cleaning spells at both himself and his baby.

"I guess that's bath time well and truly over," he grumbled, grabbing Lily under the arms and lifting her up.

She let out a wail of protest as he turned her to face him.

"You had to ruin it, didn't you?" he said. He kissed the tip of her nose. "Good thing I love you, you little turd machine."

A delighted little giggle was his response and Harry couldn't help smiling again.

"Come on you. It's bed time."

He used magic to levitate Lily in mid-air whilst he got himself out of the bath and found towels for the pair of them. He grabbed her and gently patted her dry before summoning a nappy and wrestling it on to her on the floor.

"I get that you want to be naked. Your father – I mean your other father – prefers being in the nud too, but he has control of his bowels. Mostly." He took advantage of a lull in wriggling to secure the nappy. "There. Done. Harry 1, Lily 0. Ha!"

He picked Lily up and walked naked out onto the landing, heading for her bedroom which was next to his and Ron's. He jiggled her as he went, eliciting a giggle which in turn made him smile. The first time he'd seen that smile had been magic. It had followed a night of screaming and Ron had been close to tears. But the second their baby had smiled at them, it seemed a little less terrible.

His boyfriend's propensity to tears was something that Harry was extremely worried about. Considering Ron's recent mental ill health, he was concerned about postnatal depression but didn't know how to raise it. He had no idea if Ron would be at all receptive to his suspicions – if that's all they were.

"Now then. Beddy-byes for you my lovely." He kissed Lily's head and put her down in her cot. He used magic to dress her in a little baby-gro and watched her for a while.

She seemed content that evening. Harry cast a spell to make her favourite little birds fly around the room and then made a hasty exit. When he pulled the door to a shiver rocked through him and he realised he'd forgotten to dry himself, and that he was completely naked. Harry hurried across the landing to gently open the door to their bedroom.

Ron was sprawled over the massive mattress, his hair sticking up in all directions. He was snoring in his usual trumpeting way. Harry pulled open a drawer and pulled out some pyjama bottoms, hopping into them whilst trying to keep as quiet as possible. Ron gave a loud, painful-sounding snort and Harry sighed.

"Hazzee?"

"Close enough," he said, rounding the bed and throwing back the duvet to climb under it. "Budge up, you great lump."

Ron begrudgingly did so, swearing under his breath until he had settled onto his back. Harry appreciated the pre-warmed sheets and closed his eyes. After a few moments absorbing the peace, he rolled onto his side and cuddled into Ron's body. He kissed his shoulder and inhaled.

As ever, Ron smelled delicious. Harry laid his palm over Ron's belly and rubbed soothingly, causing the redhead to purr.

"Mmmm," Ron groaned stretching out his legs and throwing his arms over his head. "Nice."

"Well that's good to know."

He leant up for a kiss and Ron obliged, clumsy but soft in his grogginess.

"Lily get off okay?" he murmured.

"Think so. She shat in the bath again. Like, tidal wave. It was disgusting."

Ron started to laugh, making Harry's hand bounce on his belly. "Well, if you refuse to charm the nappies and have baths with her on your own... it's a two person job, Harry!"

"She will not defeat me!"

"Sounds like she kinda already has, mate."

"Oh, sod off." Harry grinned to himself in the darkness. "Did you get some decent sleep?"

"Did until you came in here and woke me up."

Harry gave Ron a half-hearted jab in the ribs in response and smiled to himself in the darkness. A good few minutes passed; Harry grabbed a handful of the duvet and pulled it down to his chin.

"Did you lock up?" Ron asked groggily.

"I did before we came up for the bath. Like I always do."

"Just checking." Ron gave himself over to a massive yawn. "Still tired. So so tired."

"Then go back to sleep," Harry said. He kissed Ron's shoulder. "It's late. Not like you have to be anywhere."

Ron grunted in response and he was shortly snoring again.

Harry glanced up at his slack expression, wondering how big the bruise-like shadows under his eyes would be the next morning. How much paler he'd look.

He gave himself a mental shake. If he started thinking about it too much he'd never sleep. If he let the thoughts spiral he'd get in a state. Whilst Lily was quiet he couldn't afford to lose the chance to rest, as Ron didn't seem likely to respond to a three in the morning wake up call.

***

"It's a nice day," Ron said, clearly trying his best to sound animated – and like he cared.

"Warm," Harry agreed, glancing down at Lily.

They were walking through one of the royal parks with the sun beating down on their heads. Lily was sheltered by the pram's hood and was happily kicking about and watching what she could see of the world.

The picnic had been his idea – he wanted them all to spend time together in the fresh air. They'd become so reclusive since Lily's birth that he'd started to long for the outdoors. It had taken him forever to tempt Ron beyond the front doorstep and he was having to keep from skipping along the path.

They were drawing enough attention as it was – he didn't think Ron would thank him for any more. There were stares. Two twenty-something men walking alongside one another, pushing a pram that they were both bending over from time to time. As Ron had pointed out, they were both used to being stared at but the inclusion of Lily added a whole new level of unease.

"How about here?" Harry suggested, jerking his head towards a patch under a large tree. "Sunshine for me and plenty of shade for pasty among us."

"Watch who you're calling pasty," Ron muttered as he helped Harry lift the pram onto the grass. "There's nothing wrong with being pale and interesting, mate."

Chuckling to himself, Harry wheeled Lily over and parked her in the shadows of the leaves. He bent and pulled the blanket from the lower shelf and chucked it at Ron.

"Spread that out, will you?" he asked. "Half in the shade, half in the light."

Ron rolled his eyes but followed Harry's instructions without comment. Harry unhooked the bag containing the food he'd hastily made and waited for Ron to settle the blanket before he put it down on the edge.

"Careful now, wouldn't want to squash your stale sarnies, would you?" Ron grinned.

"They're not stale!" Harry protested. "They're fine."

"Then you can have the first one, can't you?" Ron laughed, dropping onto his knees.

He looked up then, his eyes narrowed against the glare of the sun. The same sun caught the colour of his hair and made it blaze. With a smile on his face he looked stunning – the paleness and the dark shadows had been bleached out of existence. Harry was frozen by the sight of him.

.................................................

"Please, Lily. Please just... stop," Harry begged, even though he knew it was futile and unfair of him to beg a newborn to stop crying.

She wanted Ron. Only Ron would stop the level of tantrumming which had been going on since breakfast. But Ron was in bed unwell and Harry was having trouble rousing him. George ending up in hospital had seemingly taken its toll on his brother.

"Please," Harry whispered, shoving up his glasses to press the heels of his palms into his eyeballs.

His head hurt. Lily was a champion screamer, and that seemed like the only thing she'd done since breakfast that morning. Harry hated admitting that she'd pushed him to his wit's end so quickly, but she had. He hoped that was just through the tiredness and being so worried about Ron.

He assumed that by taking to bed his assumptions about Ron had been right – the redhead was not feeling as well as he professed and things were actually quite rough. He'd not thought they were bad enough to demand complete bed rest, but Ron obviously needed the sleep because his body refused to wake up.

"Fine. Come on." Harry hefted his baby up and carried her from the front parlour up the stairs, and from there he carried her into their bedroom.

If Ron had any complaint about the noise he didn't show it, but that only worried Harry further. Even if he didn't get up, Ron always acknowledged Lily's cries. But she was squalling as he slipped into the room and approached the bed, and Ron didn't stir even a tiny bit.

In desperation Harry perched on the edge of the bed and laid Lily beside the sleeping redhead. Her volume level immediately dropped and after only a few seconds, she fell completely silent.

"Little bitch," Harry muttered furiously under his breath. "I'm not good enough now? He might have carried you for eight months but I'm the one who's changed the majority of your shitty nappies since."

He glared at her, but she just blew a spit bubble and offered nothing further. He knew he was being unfair.

"I take it back," he whispered penitently. "I love you."

Her answer to that was to let out a massive, squelchy-sounding fart. When it rose up Harry gagged and his eyes watered.

"You're evil," he choked, heading for the window to open it a little.

Ron remained fast asleep next to the disgusting child that had inherited his talent for disturbing flatulence. If that smell couldn't wake him, Harry realised, nothing would. Despite the smell, however, there was finally the first bit of peace Harry had received all day. He summoned the papers he needed to read for work from his office and retreated to the little couch they kept under the window. If Lily wanted to nap next to Ron he wasn't about to argue with her. It was nearly nap time anyway and she seemed happy amusing herself. Harry sent up a few little birds just in case, but gratefully collapsed on the sofa.

He reached out and pushed the window open wider with his fingertips and sniffed the summer air as it came in to meet him. He could smell the lavender he'd been trying to get rid of for years wafting up from the garden.

Harry gently eased his shoes off and put his feet up in front of him, before taking a deep breath and opening the file on his lap. Kingsley had been excellent with regards to his working schedule, and had agreed a few days off following George's incident for everyone's wellbeing. Harry still felt like he should attempt some work, however, which led to the file on his lap.

George was still in the hospital but had managed to get out some non-garbled speech and was eating and drinking well. Angelina looked like she was on the edge of a breakdown herself. Harry had no idea what to do to help her, even though he'd supported Ron through so much during his pregnancy.

Ignoring the file he couldn't help but look over at the two people he loved lying together on the bed. Lily's eyes had already closed.

She loves him more than she loves me. Harry wished that didn't make him feel insanely jealous. He was trying hard to fight it. But the reality was when she was upset, it was Ron that made it better. When she was poorly, it was Ron that quietened her down.

Ron was amazing with their child. He was a lovely mix of gentle but realistic, taking her bad days in his stride and was wonderfully patient with her. He made an excellent father, as Harry had always known he would. Harry couldn't help but swell with pride as he looked at the pair of them: they were his.

The chiming of a distant clock made him jump slightly and Harry shook his head at his fear. "Idiot," he muttered under his breath.

He looked at the file in his hands again and immediately felt bored. He was just bored of work in general; it felt like every second he spent there, saving the Wizarding world from themselves, could have been better spent at home with his beautiful little family. They could have been working on the house. They could have been on holiday. They could have been sitting in silence sharing a room as they currently were.

Harry had never before had the sense of longing to simply do nothing with his career. At the end of the war he'd wanted work to keep busy, and it had seemed idiotic to refuse Kingsley's offer of a spot in the Auror team. Ron's matching invitation had also gone a long way to convincing Harry to accept his own. Even then, before they had ever kissed, Harry had found the thought of being parted from Ron too much to handle.

He'd stuck at the job even though he didn't need the money to keep his mind distracted. If he lingered too long on leave he found that his mood turned maudlin and everything he had lost rose up to greet him.

That wasn't the case any more. Those daemons were still there – they always would be – but there was something in his life with Ron which gave him the ability to exercise them sporadically and then put them back in their box. They no longer threatened to consume him when he had too much time on his hands.

He was so grateful for that.

Ron muttered something in his sleep and Harry looked over so fast that he cricked his neck. Ron's eyelids were fluttering, giving flashes of blue irises. He seemed to be trembling. Harry got to his feet and hurried to the bed, reaching out to touch the redhead's shoulder. Immediately Ron relaxed and returned to stillness. Harry watched him though narrowed eyes.

Something wasn't right. He could feel it in his water.

Harry quickly made a decision. He used his wand to transfigure an old slipper into a pop-up cot for Lily, which he levitated her in to. When she was settled he left the bedroom and headed back down through the house, trying to get clear in his head what he was going to tell the healer. Ron would probably be furious when he woke up but Harry thought it was better to be safe than sorry. The Healer making a home visit unnecessarily was better than Ron being hospitalised again – something Harry wasn't sure that their relationship would withstand again.

He scooped up some Floo Powder in his fingers, ready to cast it into the fireplace on the direct channel the Maternity Ward had given them on Ron's discharge. Then he noticed that there was a letter waiting in the wire tray they kept for post, addressed to Ron. Harry could see the hospital stamp next to the postage mark. He dropped the powder back in the pot and brushed off his fingers.

When he picked up the letter the back of it was loose – the seal had failed. Unable to help himself, Harry flipped it over and pulled the letter out, shaking his head at the old fashioned typewriter font.

He read:

Dear Mr Weasley,

I am writing to you to confirm receipt of referral letter from your Maternity Consultant Healer. It is with great sadness that I do this - I am familiar with your story but have had the opportunity read your case notes and examine your test results. It is with deepest regret that I agree with the conclusions reached by my colleagues that your body is in rapid decline and this will cause a substantial deduction of years that you have left to you.

Therefore I would like to invite yourself and Mr Potter to my office to discuss how best we can manage this premature and unexpected stage of your life. We would like to offer our support in any way we can at this difficult time.

Please find below details of the appointment and feel free to contact my secretary (details also below) if these are not convenient.

With warmest regards,

Hlr Mervyn Pointer
Palliative Care Lead,
The Meadows,
St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

Harry stared at the parchment, unable to breathe. He knew what Palliative Care meant and he knew that The Meadows comprised of the wards of the topmost floor of the hospital – where witches and wizards went to die when there was nothing else to be done and remaining at home wasn't an option.

His brain was fighting him, throwing up protestations of old age and infirmity. Ron was neither elderly or an invalid.

His chest started to ache, his eyes filled up and he felt sick to the very pit of his stomach. It was matched with a stunning anger which made his hand, and the letter within it, shake.

.............................................

Two Years Later

"Oi!" Ron bellows as Lily hurtles at full speed towards the pond. "Come back here, you little turd!"

Harry spares a worried glance around them. They both love their daughter dearly but she has become the most terrifying mix of both of his tenacity and Ron's obstinacy; she is truly fierce. He watches as Ron grabs her round the middle and chucks her up into the air. It causes her to squeal with delight. Ron marches back over the grass, grinning as he moves, before he plops down onto the grass near Harry's feet.

"No pond for you," he says, too breathless and too pale for Harry's liking.

The clock ticks on. Ron drinks potions; lets the Healers put charms on his body. He lets them do anything they think might work. To their credit, he isn't dead yet and they don't think he'll die soon, either. The hospital researches, days go by. Harry wakes up each morning and wonders if it will be their last together.

His heart still skips a beat when he thinks of life without Ron by his side. His chest grows tight and his eyes start to water, and he thinks he might die himself from the agony.

"You okay?" Ron asks, and he squints as he looks up.

"Yeah." Harry smiles the smile of a liar and knows Ron sees right through it.

He knows he will never be 'okay' with what's going to happen. But he can try to be okay with the life they live in the meantime.

Ron leans his head against Harry's thigh and closes his eyes.

Every time Ron closes his eyes, Harry wonders if they will ever open again.

When they do, a surge runs through him, sparking life back to his mind when he sees the deep sapphire blue that he loves. Has always loved. Will always love.

"Someone's due a nap," he points out, prodding Lily in the shoulder.

"No!" She protests, and immediately tries to wriggle out of Ron's hold.

"We could all nap," Ron suggests, his eyebrows raised and suggestive.

Harry looks at him, at his red hair flaming red in the sun. He slips out of his chair onto his knees and settles down on his side. Ron follows suit and pulls over an umbrella they're using as a parasol. He makes sure they are covered and then lays down himself. Harry takes hold of his hand. They mangle their fingers together.

They lay there, listening to the birds and the wind in the trees, together. Lily drops off almost immediately. Harry knows Ron won't sleep even though he suggested they all nap. He's too afraid of not waking up.

The birds. The trees. A gentle plop of water caused by one of the fish in the pond. Lily's little breaths between them.

Harry looks at Ron, and Ron looks at Harry.

"This is perfect," Ron says softly.

Harry knows.