Harry smiled and waved him off, and as the door to the office closed, the memory faded, and the real Albus woke up refreshed and feeling a sense of calm and melancholia. He remembered that year well; the promise his father had made proved an empty one. Lily never did come back for Christmas. She went to Romania instead with a couple of friends. It was a fractured and upsetting Christmas with just James, Albus, and their father, Harry, but they made the most of it. Not that it mattered now; it was history, ancient history.