Lullaby

by SemperSomnium

Every night, little Harry Potter would dream. In it, he would listen to his mother sing a lullaby, and wonder why she never sounded happy. Then the hissing-man would come with two words, and a flash of green light. Sad little one-shot.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with the multi-billion dollar series.

A/N: Well, what can I say; a plot bunny bit me, then wouldn't let go. This is the result. Vicious little things, aren't they? ;)

Warnings: This is a bit of a sad, depressing fic. It also shamelessly butchers the scene where Lily Potter gives her life for Harry. Don't like it, please don't read.

That said, I hope you enjoy!

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Lullaby

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When he was young, locked in his cupboard and starving, Harry Potter was the closest he ever came to happy.

He dreamed, you see. Every night, without fail, he dreamt the same dream.

A woman would sing a sweet song, a lullaby, and even though Harry could never quite recall the words when he woke, the tune remained. Harry knew, with all the certainty of a child, that the woman who sang to him was his mother, and that she loved him.

Harry would listen awhile in his dream as she sang, but gradually he would become aware of the hitches in her melodious voice. Of how her voice would catch and the rest would come out in something sounding so much like a sob.

But she would continue singing, even though Harry could hear how the tears trailed down her cheeks. In his dream she sounded soft and lovely and alone. Just like Harry.

It was then that a loud crash would sound somewhere close by, and a new voice would enter the dreamscape.

This one was unmistakably male, but it was softer than Uncle Vernons' ever was, and almost sounded as if the speaker was hissing his words. It soothed Harry – the hissing was soft, and it sounded like a lullaby itself.

Harrys' mother would freeze for a moment at the intrusion, the lullaby cutting off abruptly, then she would start singing again.

But this time it was different.

Harry couldn't hear the tears anymore, and her voice would no longer catch on any of the words. For the first time, she sounded completely happy.

The hissing-voice would come once more, this time only saying two words that Harry could never remember, and Harrys' mother would be freed by a blinding flash of green light.

Every morning when he awoke, Harry would smile. Even though he faced a day of neglect and deprivation and hatred, his eyes would brighten and glow the killing curse green, and he would be the closest he ever came to happy.

Little Harry Potter couldn't wait for the Angel to come free him too.

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The End

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