I sigh as the doorbell rings. Slowly, I put down my book and walk over to the door. I open it and find a young man standing on the other side.

“Is Albus Potter available?� he asks.

“Yeah, just a second,� I reply. I turn and walk to my husband’s study. “Al, honey, there’s someone at the door for you.� He turns around and looks at my face, his smile brightening.

“Thanks, Abby.� Albus walks past me, kissing my cheek on his way to the door. I follow him, curious as to why the man is at our home.

“Hey,� Al says once he reaches the door, a smile on his face.

“Hello,� the young man replies, not returning the smile. “May I come in? I have some news to deliver. I’m from the hospital.� Al nods uncertainly, letting the man in.

“Would you care to sit?� Al asks. The man nods assent and sit down on the chair in our living room. “Refreshments?� my husband offers.

“Thank you,� the man replies. He takes one of the cookies and bites in. “Delicious. Who made them?�

“I did,� I say shyly. For some reason, this man makes me nervous. He picks up a napkin and sets down his cookie.

“My name is Mark. I’m a Healer at St. Mungo’s. I trust that you are aware that your parents have been living there for some time?�

“Yes. We sent them there when Mum fell down the stairs and broke her hip for the third time in a row. We didn’t think it safe to let them stay at home, and none of us were able to take them in.�

“Good. And you are also aware that they have both had a declining health over the past few years, especially your mother?� Al nods. I sit down beside him and take his hand, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “Well, a couple days ago, she became fatally ill. We wanted to move Harry to another room, seeing as we thought she might be contagious, but he refused.�

“That is so like my father,� Al muttered aloud.

“Early this night, a couple Healers went in to check on them. Both were doing fine. Your mother was better than she had been in days, so they moved on to their other patients. A couple hours later, I went in with my partner to check on them again.� Mark stops talking. I know what is coming, and I don’t want to hear it, but I can’t leave Al alone to face the news. “Albus, when I went in to check on your parents, they weren’t breathing. I looked at the heart monitors, and both of their hearts had stopped beating. Albus, your parents are gone.� Mark looks down at his hands. Al and I just sit there. I had known the new was coming, yet it still surprises me. I feel tears splash on my hands. Al is crying, and so am I. I look over at Mark and glimpse a tear sliding down his face as well.

“That’s not all,� Mark begins to say.

“Please don’t tell me someone else has died. Please tell me my children are all okay, my grandchildren doing fine in school. Please tell me James isn’t mentally ill, and that Lilly will make it through this tragedy. I can’t deal with any more death right now,� Al says. I silently agree with him.

“Everyone else is fine. It’s just... you might want to know something else about your parents’ death. They died holding hands, but that’s not all. When my partner and I looked at the heart monitors, we noticed something. Their hearts... their hearts stopped beating at the same time. The exact same time. And for days, their hearts have been beating together. Albus, they were so in love that neither could live a second without the other.� I sit there, taking in the newest bit of information. I had seen Al’s parents’ love many times over the course of my life. Before Al and I even got married, he would take me to his house. His parents were constantly hugging each other, kissing each other’s cheeks, telling each other how much they loved each other. There was hardly ever a time when they weren’t together. Their love was so strong, I sometimes wondered how Al and I would ever stay married because we weren’t like them. While their love was strong, ours was weak at first. But our love grew stronger. Now that we lived alone, with no kids, I knew our love was strong like theirs. Maybe even stronger. Our love would last forever. We would die the same way Al’s parents had, hand in hand, our last heartbeat the same. We would remain linked to the end.

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I look over at Abby, my beautiful wife. Tears stream down her face, just as tears fall down mine. Mark also has tears rolling down his cheeks. The death of my parents comes as such a shock to me. I wasn’t ready for them to die, at least not yet. But they are gone, and I have to accept the fact. I begin thinking of my childhood and the many memories of my parents I have. My father had green eyes and black hair that always stuck up. His glasses were round, and I remember sticking them on his face thousands of time while climbing over my father. My mother was beautiful; I had considered her the most beautiful person I had ever met until I met Abby. Her red hair contrasted her soft brown eyes that I was so used to comforting me. I already miss my parents, despite having learned of their deaths only moments ago.

Years ago, I had entered the room in St. Mungo’s with my father and James. My mother was sitting on the bed, a small bundle of fuzz in her arms. My mother had handed me the bundle that was Lily, my little sister. Thousands of times that day, the four speaking members of our family had shared our love with each other.

Then a while later, my two siblings and I had sat around the Christmas tree awaiting our gifts. My father had handed each of us a package. The three of us were delighted to receive miniature broomsticks and had spent the remainder of the day crashing into one another and avoiding our parents on our brooms. Our parents had chased us around the entire day, threatening us with curses and being smothered in love.

A few years later, I stood on Platform 9 ¾ with my parents and two siblings. James had been teasing me about being in Slytherin, and I was terrified. With only a few simple words, my father had calmed my fears and reassured me that whatever house I was in, they would still love me always.

Then I graduated from Hogwarts, and my mother refused to stop crying at the graduation ceremony. For day afterwards, she constantly mentioned how proud she was of James and I for graduating, how excited she was for Lily to graduate, and how much she loved the three of us.

At my wedding to Abby, both of my parents cried. I cried too, but not as much as they did. Lily was there, as was James. They had both managed to ditch work to come to my wedding. Abby and I proclaimed our love for one another and were married. At our reception afterwards, all I could think about was the growing list of people I loved and people who loved me back. Now it consisted of Abby in addition to my parents and siblings.

As time continued to pass, my mother and father supported me and my children in everything. They came to everything they possibly could, being the grandparents I hope to be. More important than that, they constantly shared their love with everyone, especially each other. As I think about how much I will miss them, it occurs to me that I need to preserve their memories by continuing to share their love. As if on cue, Abby leans towards me. Our lips meet, despite Mark still being in the room.

“Abby, I love you.�

“Al, I love you too.�

“Mark, thank you. I’m glad you came to tell us. It feels so much more loving than if you had simply sent a letter telling us of their deaths. Thank you.� The three of us stand up, and Abby and I walk Mark to the door. Mark leaves, and I look back at Abby.

“My parents loved each other so much, their hearts beat as one. I want to be the same,� I tell my sweet wife.

“I do too,� she replies softly, leaning her head on my chest. I know I will mourn my parents’ deaths, but I can’t stop living. I need to keep moving. And I won’t be the only one. I’ll have James and Lily, and Abby. And my children will be there for me, as will my grandchildren and my friends. No, I won’t be alone in this. And neither will anyone else.

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Al and I will stay together forever, our hearts coming to beat as one. We will never leave each other. Ever. Our love will shine strong, an example for our children and grandchildren. And who knows? We may just end our lives the same way Harry and Ginny did- hand in hand, our hearts beating as one.