Harry sighed, it was as productive as talking to a wall. "You're still not listening to me," said Harry tiredly, but he did not know what he could do to persuade his son, short of showing him a pensive of Voldemort in action. He knew how fast his son was, and how fast Voldemort was - it wasn't about not being good, it was about a certain death.
"If Voldemort is still around in a year we're at full war and no one is spared," Harry replied tiredly, though in his inner mind he wondered if there was any way to persuade the entire family to leave if that was the case. He'd done that once, he didn't want to do it again. Another part of him knew he would, because it was not in his personality not to fight for what was right.
He wished his son did not have so much of him in him. Running a hand through his hair, he shook his head. "No, you can go back," he said. "Just... I do think you're a good Auror, you will be a brilliant one, all on your own. I wish you'd stop comparing yourself to me, you have nothing to live up to. You're just as good as I ever was, I just had a bit of a head start."