Albus, Rose, Hugo, and Lily laughed. The train began to move, and Harry walked alongside it, watching his son’s thin face, already ablaze with excitement. Harry kept smiling and waving, even though it was like a little bereavement, watching his son glide away from him… The last trace of steam evaporated in the autumn air. The train rounded a corner. Harry’s hand was still raised in farewell. “He’ll be all right,” murmured Ginny. As Harry looked at her, he lowered his hand absentmindedly and touched the lightning scar on his forehead. “I know he will.” The scar had not pained Harry for nineteen years. All was well.
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