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The bark of the apple tree was firm against his back. Harry rested his head against it and closed his eyes. He could practically make out the sounds of his children shrieking as they ran through the orchard, could nearly smell his daughter’s perfume from the day she wed under this very tree. A sigh escaped his lips, and he opened his eyes again.
The grass was greener, if possible, than he’s seen before. The wind tousling each blade of grass in a gentle dance. Rays of sunlight had crept up his legs, warming his body from its chilled state. As the sun grew brighter, he felt energy return to him. When a shadow obscured the sunlight, he glanced up in surprise, as he’d not heard an approach.
“Took you long enough,” Severus said, a smile playing at his lips.
“‘You’re late.’ That’s what I expected,” Harry grinned and shoved himself from the ground, dusting his trousers. “Close enough, I suppose.”
“Near two decades longer than the average wizard. Ever the stubborn one.”
Severus pulled on his hand, wrapping long fingers around his.
“Now come. I have need of your opinion,” he murmured.
If he squinted, Harry could see a replica of their old house in the distance. He took one last look at the tree as Severus dragged him away, hoping those they left behind were just as stubborn as he.