Harry Potter Headcanons and Oneshots

88- Morning walks

Every single morning during the holidays, whatever the weather, Harry and Albus would take long walks along the deserted beach by their house. Their house was along an abandoned shore, far from any kinds of civilisation. Harry Potter had had his share of fame and press, so it was only normal that he moved out of London and its surroundings and retired to a quieter, calmer place as soon as he could.

Their father- son walks were the times where they shared funny stories, personal experiences, and any kinds of tales and anecdotes. There would always be a lot of laughing- and both of them would come back home completely stress free and chilled out, smiling carelessly and laughing like they were the only people on earth.

One spring morning during the easter holidays, they'd just received the news announcing Molly's death. Both of them were devastated. It was the only morning walk where they cried, and cried and cried. They cried, propped up against the towering cliffs, their toes curling in the damp sand, the waves lapping at their feet. They cried until they thought every inch of water in their body had been cried. They yelled out to the raging ocean, the rough winds catching in their hair and burning their eyes, until their throats ached and swelled.

And that was the last morning they walked on the beach, side by side. Maybe because these were supposed to be happy, relieving walks. But neither of them were sure why exactly. It just hurt too much. After that, Albus couldn't set foot on the beach without the burning memory of his grandmother's death flooding back, making every single muscle in his body ache and sting.