His eyes look tired while he regards her, but he inclines his head when she nudges him and gives a soft sigh when he feels her lips against his forehead.

"I wish I had been there more for him," he says quietly, feeling guilt press tight against his chest. "This is fully on me, Lily. I wasn't. He's been living with your sister and I think he hasn't been exactly happy." Not that he had known that. But it doesn't change the fact that he should have. He should have checked up on Harry at least once during the twelve years. Why hadn't he? Because of petty reasons.

He reaches up to grasp her hands between his and holds them gently. "I fear I've failed him quite a bit. But I tried to make up for it in the past few years. He's grown to be so much like James and you. So stubborn and brilliant at the same time. I taught him for a year. As a Defense against the dark arts professor."

There's a bit of light in those pale green eyes when he talks about teaching the boy. He had done right by him then. For a while at least.