New Parents

chapter nineteen

Harry walked over and pulled out the paintings. "Brittany, it isn't a bad thing. Your mother was a very beautiful woman and very intelligent." Harry said softly. "I... don't want...to be hated." She whispered. "You won't be hated, Brittany." Harry said softly, putting his hand on her shoulder. "Your father was a very evil person. Nobody blames you for what happened and it is such a good thing you are like your mama. You are very pretty, very smart and such a sweet girl. Like your mama. The twins need that. They'll grow up with you, the closest thing they will have." Harry said and she let out a sigh, grabbing the painting. "I'm not sure it's what she completely looked like. It has been a really long time since I even...seen a picture." She whispered, before Harry took her hand. "Follow me." Harry said softly and she nodded.
Harry took her to his office and walked over to his computer. He had Brittany come over, and sat her on his leg as he started to type something up. "What...do you...have to show me?" Brittany asked. "Something I think you're ready for." Harry said, before clicking the mouse and a video popped up, paused. "Your mom didn't died because of their births. That's just what everybody thought. Your mama was sick, and because she choice to have your brothers, rather then get treatment...it was to late by the time they were born. You are a very smart girl, understand that even if she had started treatment, she would have been very sick and died maybe a year later. She went out on her own decisions, rather then putting you and those boys through that." Harry said, and then handed her a piece of paper. Brittany took the paper and started to read it. After a couple minutes, she eased it down on the keyboard. "So...she killed herself rather then letting the cancer take her...what...does this have to do with what she looked like?" Brittany asked. "She made a video. For you and your brothers when they are older...well, Gray. This one is your part." Harry said and after a long pause, she slowly hit play.

Hi, baby girl. I have no idea when it is you'll see this video. Hopefully, when you are old enough to understand. I was diagnosed five weeks pregnant with the boy, Brittany. Even with taking the chemotherapy, aborting my babies, my chances weren't high. I wasn't going to loose them after spending three years trying to give you a brother or sister. I made my choice, knowing what could happened. You and your brothers mean the world to me. I can't let you watch me die in such a matter. I know I can't promise everything will be okay, because I don't know...Within a year I would be dead anyways. I hope one day, you understand why I am doing this. I love you and I will always love you.
Brittany seen she was dressed up, she has spent a lot of time making herself very pretty and trying to hide the scar on her check that Brittany had forgotten. "She...is pretty." Brittany said, feeling the kiss on her head. "So are you." Harry said. "If you found these...did, you find a picture of my mother?" Brittany ask, and Harry opened a small folder. "I did." Harry said, and she took the picture. "Please. Listen to me when I say it isn't a bad thing you are like your mama. She is very pretty and was a great person and mother. You are a prefect girl, sister and so intelligent." Harry said. "Four years...Pa. It is still in my head." She cried, and he held her close. "I know, baby girl. Your daddy and I will do our best to help you, but you have to trust me. You know they wouldn't have placed you with us, or even let us adopt you three." Harry said, and she rested against his chest. "I do trust you...But his voice...is strong in my head, pa." Brittany said. "I know, sweetie. You have handle yourself well, but make your old pappy feel better." He said and she laughed. "Pa, you aren't that old. What...are you wanting me to do?" Brittany asked. "I want you to start therapy, so I can be sure you'll be okay. I don't want you hiding something form me...and I loose you later." Harry said. "I don't want therapy, because then I'll be labeled." She said. "Is your brother treated different? Knowing he has PTSD?" Harry asked. "That's different...He a little mini soldier." She said and Harry pulled her head up. "It is no different. Do you know how many people have been treated for PTSD or even something as simple as anxiety since the war? Nobody will treat you differently." Harry said and after a pause. "Okay...pa." Brittany said, getting a kiss on her head. "But I'm not depressed or suicidal. I just have nightmares sometimes." She admitted. "I know, but I want to keep you happy and healthy." Harry said, feeling her hand on his cheek. "Okay, pa...I will go." She said.
She took Harry back to her room after and she pulled out a painting form one of her other bookshelves. "Daddy gave me a picture them, I aged them up...I hope that's okay." She whispered, handing Harry a painting of his parents. They were in the sixties in the painting. The white mixed into the lighter red hair of his mother and the white coming into his father's black hair. They stood by a tree, Lily holding onto his shirt both in some spring clothes. She even painted the jackets thrown to the ground. Harry smiled lightly. "We should really get you into maybe...a painting class or something." Harry said. "No, I rather do it for fun. At home. Not some teacher judging my art." She pointed out and Harry just smiled.