Well, shit, my friend. I will do that thing.
as I have been done
Notes:
Prompt:
I wish you would write a fic where Harry Potter is happy and healed from the atrocities and manipulations of his past
Me: Well, shit, my friend. I will do that thing. Here you go.
——–
All was well.
Well, not all was well, because life is life, of course, but things were good. Harry taught Defence Against the Dark Arts, and he took his tea with just a bit of milk while sitting with the rest of the staff at the Head Table, and Dudley’s daughter Tala even looked at him with pride from the Hufflepuff table from time to time.
He had looked death in the face, and he was better for it.
He avoided death, after that. He needed nothing of it, because he understood. He wasn’t scared, not anymore.
Instead, he loved.
He loved with everything inside him, loved fiercely and wholly.
Harry didn’t just live. He loved, and he loved entirely.
He loved his mother and father, and he loved Ginny and their children, and he loved Ron, Hermione, and their children, too.
He loved his enemies.
He loved himself.
All was well.