Chapter 1
Potter's House
The house where the Potters lived seemed very nice and welcoming. With two floors it was not a mansion, it was just enough for those who lived there. Inside, the daylight entered through the windows illuminating the house. In the living room, sitting on the couch, was Harry Potter. His dark hair was still messy, his skin pale and his eyes bright green. Beside him, Albus Potter, his only son, was just a slightly different version of him.
Harry had married at the age of 20. Being an Auror and still hanging out a lot with Ron, who also was one, and the rest of the Weasley family, he married Ginny, whom he had engaged in a romance a few months before . At 21 years old, Albus was born.
However, Ginny hadn't survived giving birth to her son, despite all efforts made, and could only once have a glance at her baby. A photograph of her smiling, holding a broom, and wearing the Holyhead Harpies robes, picturing times that were perhaps the happiest of her life, was next to a television, a typical muggle artifact .
Harry didn't get married a second time, or even get involved with someone. Of course, no matter how many times his friends told him that it was time to overcome everything that happened in his life and find someone, and no matter how many times he said his son was his life and that he made Harry extremely happy and that only him mattered and was enough, deep down, he very well knew he needed someone by his side.
It was a very long time since he had felt loved like that, that he hadn't felt a touch, a kiss, a smell, someone to lie in bed with him. Someone with whom he felt completely comfortable with, completely at peace, completely happy.
Not even with Ginny had he felt that. When the romance began , despite being almost certain that it wouldn't be a very intense thing, that Ginny was the woman of his life, and that they would live happily together until death do them part, deep in his mind and heart, he hoped that was the case. But Harry was right , and it wasn't. He often remembered that the time he had felt like that; he was seventeen, at Hogwarts. And he constantly remembered, with sadness, that that probably was the first and last time.
