they were both gone, and for all they knew in their last moments, he would die too.
but 36 years. but he lived far longer than they ever would. he got to see his children longer than james or lily even knew him. and as each birthday passed, as happy as harry was, he felt strange, living a life his parents didn’t think would exist, living a life they couldn’t see, living a life that surpassed theirs.
and every year harry would’ve given anything to sit down, just for a day, to talk to his parents and tell them everything. but they would never know, and every birthday felt like stolen time to harry, because they should’ve been there celebrating too