His heart's desire
By
Donna Vito Fruttie
A/N – This is my entry for Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition
Season 2 Round 1
Relationship: Son
Prompts:
(song) Nightmare
"Every Family has bad memories"
Shadows in a mirror
Position: Beater 1
Team: The Wimbourne Wasps
Disclaimer: JKR owns it all
Harry tossed and turned in his sleep.
Come to us.
The shadows in the mirror kept calling out to him. There was a mist swirling around them, almost engulfing them wholly. Their mouths were forming words, but no words came out of them. Instead, he heard them in his mind.
Come to us, they said. We will never leave your side.
He could see them getting clearer, and the mist lifting.
He could feel it.
Harry, we will never leave you again.There was a woman, tall, with bright red hair. But her most striking feature was her green eyes. Her sad green eyes. She reached out an arm, beckoning him to her.
Harry.A bespectacled man stood next to her. Harry, he mouthed, come.
Harry tried to reach them.I'm coming, he said.
He tried to rise, but felt himself being held down. He struggled, but only felt the binds getting tighter.
They continued to call out to him, but he felt helpless...
...and then, the mist was suddenly rising again.
No, Harry said. Please, no.
Like tentacles, it wrapped around the man and the woman...
Harry, help us...
-then there was a flash of green light and the woman screamed-
-and Harry woke with a start.
He was drenched in a cold sweat and was breathing hard. Suddenly feeling very thirsty, Harry rose from his bed and walked towards the water jug kept beneath the window. He looked out, observing the pale moonlight that was gently falling on the school grounds. Pressing his forehead against the glass in the window, he let himself feel the cool of the was a recurring dream. It had started when he first came by the mirror of erised. Harry's thoughts took him back to that night. He remembered it like it was yesterday...
...He was under his invisibility cloak, looking for a place to hide. Nearby, Filch was arguing with Snape. If he didn't move, he would be caught. Harry spotted a classroom with its door unlocked. He backed away into the room, trying to get away from Snape and Filch. He waited for a while, to ensure that they left, and then looked around the room.
That was when he noticed the mirror, leaning against the wall.It was a big, highly ornate, magnificent mirror, as high as the ceiling. There was a strange inscription carved around the top. Trying to see himself in the mirror, he came closer, and closer to the mirror. But when he stood in front of it, he saw, not only himself, but a whole crowd of people, standing right behind him...It took Harry only a moment to figure out. For the first time in his life, he was looking at his family. And then, he spotted them in their midst - a man and a woman.
His parents-
-Harry felt his head throbbing slightly. Flashes of his dream came back to him. The green light. The swirling mist. The screams…
It does not do to dwell on dreams.
Perhaps, this was what Dumbledore had warned him had spent eleven years of his life under the Dursley's roof, being called nothing but 'boy' and being treated as nothing more than a household fixture. He was simply an unwanted addition. But that night, the mirror of erised had shown him his heart's desire. And his heart's deepest, most desperate desire, was to see his family again, whole, and complete, and alive. And as he stood gazing at the image of his family right before him, he realized for the first time that he was, also, a son.
A son, without parents, he thought.
He had never known his parents and therefore had never felt their absence in his life. But that night, in those few moments, he had felt a sudden void in his heart. He had felt a longing. A craving, far stronger than any he had ever felt...
A powerful kind of ache, half joy, half terrible sadness…
It had seemed like a dream come true, and nothing anyone said could have stopped him from going back.
…and so, as often as he could, he wanted to go off to be with them, stand in front of the mirror, gazing with a longing in his heart. And that he did, for three days.
Until Dumbledore found him and warned him not to return. Harry heeded the warning, but that did not stop him from thinking about the mirror. By day, he spent time dwelling in its memory. By night, he dreamt of it.
And as the days went by, his dreams slowly turned into nightmares. He would hear their screams, see flashes of green light. But more importantly, he would feel his parents calling out to him...
Soon, it didn't seem enough to just remember images of his parents. He longed to be with them and never let go. Soon, shadows in a mirror, just weren't enough...
It does not do to dwell on dreams.
Dumbledore was right, of course. But for Harry, it seemed a cruel thing to say, a hard thing to hear. Dreams and images were, now, the only things he would ever have of his parents. So was it really a crime ? Every family has bad memories, they say. He didn't have any memories of his parents. In fact, for as long as he could remember, he hadn't felt like he had a family, at all. It seemed that even bad memories were welcome, as long as he could have a normal life. Be a loving son to his loving parents. An ordinary boy in an ordinary family.
Like Ron.
He glanced at Ron, who was snoring peacefully into the night. In a way, Ron had it all. He thought of himself in Ron's place. Not having a care in the world. Knowing that his family would always be there for him. That must be the best feeling in the world. Harry turned back to glance outside.
He couldn't help but feel a little jealous of Ron. What wouldn't he give, to feel whole and complete...even for a while…Harry shook off further thoughts that came to him.
It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, Dumbledore had said. And then slowly, Harry began to understand. He couldn't go back. The mirror of erised would have been moved, of course, as Dumbledore had informed him. But even so, he should stop wanting to go back.
His parents would always be with him. He didn't need to see them. He didn't need to cling to their shadowy memories and misty images. He had them, didn't he, right in his heart, right where he could cherish them?
And no matter what, wouldn't they always be watching over him? Always be proud of him? And always love him?
He would always be their son. That was enough.
Harry felt a stinging in his eyes.
A/N -
This is pretty much canon, coz, in the chapter after The Mirror Of Erised, in PS, Harry does have nightmares regarding the images of his parents in the mirror.
Reviews are welcome. Please. I'm a sucker for reviews.