***Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, JKR does!***
Author's Note: I got a flame for Unrequited Love Part VI. I'm really sad now =(. Athena said
"a bit melodramatic....etc etc...the title was falsely named..." here's my response: SHOVE OFF
YOU MEAN, HORRIBLE GIRL!! okay, now i feel better...
Make Me Proud
Ever since that first time in front of the Mirror of Erised, Harry had wondered what it would
be like for him if his parents were alive. He'd be living with them now, not with his horrible
aunt and uncle. He'd have a family, two people who loved him unconditionally, who were his protectors,
his guardians, his TEACHERS. He wouldn't have this scar on his forehead. People wouldn't start when
they heard his name. And Voldemort would probably still be in power...
But what if someone else could've done it? What if it didn't have to be HIS mum who'd made the
sacrifice? What if she'd just run, like Harry's father had told her to, taken the baby and run, saved
both of them, and perhaps, if his father had managed to get away...
But these were selfish thoughts. A whole race was saved from the cruelty of the Dark Lord when
Harry's mother had left him with the protection of an ancient sort of magic, one that had reflected Voldemort's
curse back to him. But why his mum? Why him?
Harry lay on his bed, his head resting softly on a pillow, being lulled to sleep by the rhythmic
snoring coming from Neville's four-poster. He couldn't help thinking of his parents at times like these.
Sometimes he envied Ron so much, for having a mother and father and all of those siblings. When he was in
the Burrow, he felt like he belonged, like the Weasleys were HIS family...and then he would go back to
his own harsh reality, with an aunt and uncle who couldn't stand to look at him, and indulged their
own cruel son while completely ignoring Harry. It was enough to tear apart any fourteen-year-old boy's
soul.
He lay there, thinking of all this, until he drifted off into an uneasy, dream-filled sleep...
** "Harry...Harry..."
"Mum? Is that you?" Harry could see a faint light, across the lake from where he was standing on one
of its grassy banks. He could've sworn he'd heard his mother's voice, calling him. But that was impossible,
his mum was...
"Harry...where are you, darling? Can you hear me?" That was her, he was sure of it.
"Mum! Mum, I'm here! I can hear you!" He was suddenly filled with a cold, chilling panic, that
if he didn't talk to her now, she'd go away, she'd leave him, for the second time...
"Harry...oh, how I've missed you. Are you okay, dear? What's wrong?" For now tears were streaming
freely down his face, he could see her now, standing there across the lake, a faint glimmer, but she was there.
Her long hair blowing, she was reaching out a hand to him, beckoning him. He had an uncontrollable
urge to jump into the icy lake and swim towards her, but that was stupid, that was...
"NO Harry, you cannot come to me now. I just...wanted to see you, make sure you were alright.
Your father's coming, he wants to see you too..."
"Dad's coming? Now?" His voice was shaking.
"Yes, he's---"
Another faint glimmer appeared beside her, and Harry saw his father standing there, a mirror image
of himself, though taller, stronger...
"Harry, son, how are you?" His voice was filled with bitter-sweet sorrow.
"I'm...I'm okay, Dad." He didn't want them to go, if he could just stand here talking to them
forever, everything would be alright...
"Harry, you know you can't do that. We gave our lives to save yours, you must live
it." His mother's voice was soft, soothing.
"But how am I supposed to live without you?" He was still crying uncontrollably.
"You have done it, Harry, for 13 years, and you will be able to keep on doing it...at least
until we can be together again, as a family..."
"Mum? Dad? Can I ask you a question?" he paused, not knowing how to say it. "Do I...Do I make
you proud?"
There was silence for a moment. Then his father spoke. "Every day, Harry. Every day." *
***
Harry woke up crying. He could still remember the dream, remember their voices, remember them
talking to him...and he remembered his father's words. He would make him proud. He would continue
living, as a tribute to their memory. They'd given their lives to give him his, and he was not going
to waste that precious sacrifice.
***
Author's Note: sorry it's so sad, it's just, I really wanted to explore how Harry feels about all this...
Author's Note: I got a flame for Unrequited Love Part VI. I'm really sad now =(. Athena said
"a bit melodramatic....etc etc...the title was falsely named..." here's my response: SHOVE OFF
YOU MEAN, HORRIBLE GIRL!! okay, now i feel better...
Make Me Proud
Ever since that first time in front of the Mirror of Erised, Harry had wondered what it would
be like for him if his parents were alive. He'd be living with them now, not with his horrible
aunt and uncle. He'd have a family, two people who loved him unconditionally, who were his protectors,
his guardians, his TEACHERS. He wouldn't have this scar on his forehead. People wouldn't start when
they heard his name. And Voldemort would probably still be in power...
But what if someone else could've done it? What if it didn't have to be HIS mum who'd made the
sacrifice? What if she'd just run, like Harry's father had told her to, taken the baby and run, saved
both of them, and perhaps, if his father had managed to get away...
But these were selfish thoughts. A whole race was saved from the cruelty of the Dark Lord when
Harry's mother had left him with the protection of an ancient sort of magic, one that had reflected Voldemort's
curse back to him. But why his mum? Why him?
Harry lay on his bed, his head resting softly on a pillow, being lulled to sleep by the rhythmic
snoring coming from Neville's four-poster. He couldn't help thinking of his parents at times like these.
Sometimes he envied Ron so much, for having a mother and father and all of those siblings. When he was in
the Burrow, he felt like he belonged, like the Weasleys were HIS family...and then he would go back to
his own harsh reality, with an aunt and uncle who couldn't stand to look at him, and indulged their
own cruel son while completely ignoring Harry. It was enough to tear apart any fourteen-year-old boy's
soul.
He lay there, thinking of all this, until he drifted off into an uneasy, dream-filled sleep...
** "Harry...Harry..."
"Mum? Is that you?" Harry could see a faint light, across the lake from where he was standing on one
of its grassy banks. He could've sworn he'd heard his mother's voice, calling him. But that was impossible,
his mum was...
"Harry...where are you, darling? Can you hear me?" That was her, he was sure of it.
"Mum! Mum, I'm here! I can hear you!" He was suddenly filled with a cold, chilling panic, that
if he didn't talk to her now, she'd go away, she'd leave him, for the second time...
"Harry...oh, how I've missed you. Are you okay, dear? What's wrong?" For now tears were streaming
freely down his face, he could see her now, standing there across the lake, a faint glimmer, but she was there.
Her long hair blowing, she was reaching out a hand to him, beckoning him. He had an uncontrollable
urge to jump into the icy lake and swim towards her, but that was stupid, that was...
"NO Harry, you cannot come to me now. I just...wanted to see you, make sure you were alright.
Your father's coming, he wants to see you too..."
"Dad's coming? Now?" His voice was shaking.
"Yes, he's---"
Another faint glimmer appeared beside her, and Harry saw his father standing there, a mirror image
of himself, though taller, stronger...
"Harry, son, how are you?" His voice was filled with bitter-sweet sorrow.
"I'm...I'm okay, Dad." He didn't want them to go, if he could just stand here talking to them
forever, everything would be alright...
"Harry, you know you can't do that. We gave our lives to save yours, you must live
it." His mother's voice was soft, soothing.
"But how am I supposed to live without you?" He was still crying uncontrollably.
"You have done it, Harry, for 13 years, and you will be able to keep on doing it...at least
until we can be together again, as a family..."
"Mum? Dad? Can I ask you a question?" he paused, not knowing how to say it. "Do I...Do I make
you proud?"
There was silence for a moment. Then his father spoke. "Every day, Harry. Every day." *
***
Harry woke up crying. He could still remember the dream, remember their voices, remember them
talking to him...and he remembered his father's words. He would make him proud. He would continue
living, as a tribute to their memory. They'd given their lives to give him his, and he was not going
to waste that precious sacrifice.
***
Author's Note: sorry it's so sad, it's just, I really wanted to explore how Harry feels about all this...