Harry Potter turned and tossed in his bed, trying to get to sleep, and doing his best to ignore his cousins thunderous snores, but nothing worked. The sheep he used to count seemed to have gone onto greener pastures and no simple fantasy could distract his mind, so finally he just gave up and just let the memories flow in his mind, bringing back the almost too painful memories of the night that Sirius was murdered. He also remembered that night in the graveyard over a year ago when he'd seen Voldemort come back to life.
And he'd seen and talked to his parents, for the first time in his life.
He hadn't been able to tell them what he wanted to tell them for his entire life. Time was too pressured and Lily and James had told Harry to run while they stopped Voldemort from giving chase. He'd made it back to Hogwarts, alive once again because his parents had saved him.
He hadn't even been able to say goodbye to Sirius. He had been Stunned and had fallen through the Veil, an archway between the world of the living and the world of the dead. And though Harry had screamed for him to come back, he hadn't. Sirius couldn't have come back even if he wanted to. Even if he heard Harry's cries…
Unable to lie still any longer, Harry sat up and turned on the bedside lamp. The two-way mirror he'd broken over a month ago lay on his bedside table, still in its broken pieces. He picked up the biggest piece there was, which was about the size of his palm, and turned it over in his hands, careful not to allow the sharp edges to cut him.
Why hadn't he remembered the mirror? If he'd opened it and called Sirius's name, he may have been able to find him and not think he was being tortured by Voldemort. He gripped the mirror in his hands, fighting the tears that were threatening to flow, and ignoring the blood that slowly began to pour down his wrist from his palm.
Both Sirius and Harry's father James had used these mirrors once. But Harry had no idea where the other mirror was. Most likely in the ruins of his parents house, lost in the rubble of his past life in Godric's Hollow.
'I miss you Sirius', Harry whispered, his voice cracking.
As soon as Sirius's name left Harry's lips, the mirror began to fog over. Harry thought it was his breath and tried to wipe it away but it stayed. After a few moments the fog began to clear on its own and a figure with long, untidy black hair appeared. His face was rather pale but he was grinning and laughing his doglike laugh.
'Sirius', Harry breathed.
'Hey Harry', Sirius said, smiling widely. 'How are you doing?'
Harry couldn't answer. He was too shocked. The mirror was working… But it hadn't worked at the school. How and why was it working now?
'Come on, say something. You look like you've seen a ghost.' Sirius laughed at his own joke and Harry couldn't help but chuckle as well.
'I'm alright', Harry managed to say finally. 'How 'bout yourself?'
'Well, it would be damn boring if I didn't have some old friends to hang around with', Sirius said grinning. Harry paled, knowing who Sirius was talking about.
'I want you to see someone. Or rather, meet someone, I suppose.'
Sirius's image disappeared as the mirror he was using was passed to someone else. Harry's heart skipped a beat when he saw it was his father who had taken the mirror from Sirius.
'Hello Harry', James said with a smile.
'Dad', Harry whispered. James's smile grew wider.
'You know your own father. This is a good thing.'
Harry didn't know what to say. For so many years he'd wanted to talk to his father and now here James was ready to talk, and Harry's mind was void of any questions he wanted to ask his dad.
'You're not much of a conversationalist are you?' James asked.
'No', Harry gasped. 'I mean, yes. I do talk. To people. A lot. It's just, I don't know what to say, having never really met you, you know...'
'We knew each other', James assured him. 'You always wanted to ride with me whenever Sirius and I tried to play Quidditch. I could already tell you were going to be a Quidditch player at Hogwarts. Yes, I already know about what's happened to you there in the school', James said before Harry could respond to this statement. 'I've watched you take on Voldemort five times, plus a Basilisk, countless Death Eater's, how you've tried to kill your Godfather, and I've seen your first girlfriend and that miserable first date at the coffee shop... I know all about it. And I'm proud of you. I wouldn't have been able to do all of that. Especially the coffee shop.'
'I dragged you there our first date, remember', said a faceless female voice Harry knew belonged to his mother.
James shuttered.
'Right. I tried to forget about it.' Harry stifled a snort. 'Anyways, about the rest, I couldn't have done it…'
'Prongs!' Harry heard Sirius say.
'What? It's true! My son is better in magic then I ever was!'
Harry wanted to ask his dad one question. Out of all the questions that were now burning in his mind, this was the one question he wanted answered out of any.
'Is there anyway to bring you guys back Dad? Is there anyway to bring you back?'
James looked at his son and the humour that had been in them a few seconds ago disappeared to be replaced by pity.
'No Harry. There's no way to come back. Death is a one way ticket. Once you're dead, you're dead.'
'But I don't want you guys dead', Harry begged. 'I want you guys back. I don't want to live here a moment longer. I want to live with you guys and be able to complain about things in the wizarding world, not have to bottle it up over the summer. I want to be able to...'
Harry didn't finish his sentence. Everyone present knew he was going to say he wanted to be able to love them. Harry heard a sniff and his mother moved into the mirror along with his dad. Lily was crying yet smiling at her son. Harry vaguely remembered see that in another mirror, a long time ago.
'I miss you guys', Harry whispered.
'We miss you to sweety', Lily said. Harry bit back a howl of rage that was inside of him, threatening to tear loose. He wanted his parent's back. Not just some image in a mirror as their only way of communication. And even that wasn't going to last forever...
'We don't have long to talk Harry', James said quietly, confirming Harry's fear. 'This isn't even supposed to be working. We're just using it to tell you we love you.'
'James...' Sirius muttered. Harry could tell something was going on. The edges of the mirror were beginning to fog up.
'Dad?' Harry asked, worry showing in his voice. James shook his head and cursed badly enough that Lily glared at him. But she didn't seem to disagree with his reasoning.
'We have to go', Lily said, her voice beginning to fade as well. 'We love you, Harry…'
'Sirius, Mum, Dad, don't leave me. Don't you leave me! I love you too! Please don't leave…'
'We're sorry Harry', James whispered, his picture beginning to cloud up. As a tear rolled down Harry's cheek and splashed onto the mirror's surface, a tear of Lily's splashed on the exact same spot as Harry's, and the two tears seemed to mingle.
They disappeared and soon the mirror returned to its normal state of reflection. Harry knew his parents could still see and hear him, but he didn't care because he couldn't see or hear them. Or be held by them. Or feel their love beside him…
He swore just as colourfully as his father just had and threw the piece of mirror against the wall. It bounced off the wall with a clang and fell into the pile of laundry below.
'What the devil are you doing boy?' Uncle Vernon shouted from his bedroom, causing even more of a racket then Harry's swearing had. 'Shut up and let the rest of us get some sleep!'
Harry swore again, but quieter this time and threw himself back onto his bed, his heart pumping in rage. And more than just a little sadness.
Why had Voldemort taken his parents away from him?