For all the mothers out there; you fucking rock.

A Reminiscing

Chapter 1: The Future

The world is full of women blindsided by the unceasing demands of motherhood, still flabbergasted by how a job can be terrific and torturous.

-Anna Quindlen

Harry had been told for most of his life, usually in the same breath, that no matter how much he looked like his father, he always had his mother's green eyes.

The first time he heard someone say those words, he had become overcome with emotion, proud that he was the symbol of his parents' devotion to each other; he was the manifestation of the love they shared.

After that, though he hated to admit it, it had gotten a little tiresome. Always the same thing; 'look, he looks exactly like James did at that age' and 'my, those are Lily's eyes alright.' While it was nice being compared to his parents every once in awhile, for a long time (especially during those long, arduous teenage years that were so filled with fluctuating hormones and mood swings that he liked to pretend he wasn't still in) it had felt like he had become an extension of his parents instead of a person. He was Them, not Himself.

First eleven years of his life; never really had to worry about those comparisons that still inexorably dogged him to the present day. After that, well, everything went a bit shitty; as it usually does once a person takes their first steps into the world.

Maybe it was because he had thought he would be able to separate himself from their image once he was off at Hogwarts, which was a little foolish; if he had wanted to do that he should have gone off to Durmstrang or something. Maybe even America; isn't that where all angsty teenagers went when they wanted to get away from the cold, harsh world? After all, he had heard Washington was supposed to be looking good this time of year, all rain and even the occasional bouts of sparkly sunshine once in awhile.

It went without saying that that had been a complete failure.

Making the Gryffindor Quidditch team? 'Harry, you must have inherited your father's skill with a broom! Why, I remember once when…'

Managing to get the highest score on the Charms and Transfiguration OWLs in the last twelve years? 'James and Lily always were so academic; though you'd never believe it when it came to James.'

Graduating salutatorian from Hogwarts with honors? Again; James and Lily were freakin' genii, and wow young Potter, it seems like you are too!

Honestly, people wondered why he had such a bad temper! Maybe they should try feeling like they were a fucking carbon copy every single day!

And the glances; the sad, almost disappointed glances when he acted in a decidedly dissimilar way than his parents. No one close to him did it; they knew better than to, and even defended him against those who tutted under their breaths when he managed to show something resembling an individual personality. No, it was the masses that looked at him critically, just waiting for the moment when they could swoop down on him like fucking vultures to relate some anecdote from his parents' past that, honestly, he had heard about a thousand times before.

Maybe that was why he had fallen for Cedric. The Hufflepuff had been the first person who had come up to him and told him something different for once. No, 'you look just like your father,' no 'you have your mother's eyes,' nothing like that.

No, he had just come up to him and said that he was absolutely gorgeous and asked him on a date. And kissed him.

Two weeks later, the two were dating and Cedric wasn't walking with a limp like he had after Harry had kneed him in the balls.

Harry chuckled slightly, remembering how the public had reacted to that revelation.

Everything had changed after that. Following Cedric's confession and subsequent trip to the Hospital wing with testicular damage, and Harry's acceptance after that, Harry had been thrilled to see that he had finally cast off his parents' image. Though he was still Harry Potter, he couldn't help but feel that he was finally Harry Potter.

There had been some downsides though. Apparently, being your own person came with people being wildly attracted to you. Or, at least that is what seemed to be the case, with a surprisingly large amount of people throwing themselves at his feet following his coming out with Cedric. Some of the participants had surprised him; others were a little more…odd, but Harry was perfectly content with his sexy growling Cedric that had done a wonderful job in beating off his fans with a stick.

Literally.

People had begun to compare him more with his mother as time went on as well. Not in looks or anything (because Harry was perfectly masculine, a manly man in fact, despite the fact that he was a head shorter than Cedric, had a slim figure, and could level straight men with a single booty-shake) but in temperament.

Well, at least the love/hate way he had treated Cedric for the first year or so of their relationship had reminded people of Lily and James' relationship in the beginning. And, just like his mother, he had found himself head over heels for the most infuriatingly gorgeous and annoying and loving man he had ever met.

It was like going from the frying pan to the fire. No matter what anyone said, he had an excuse for his temper, and god-dammit a right to use it. Especially on too-good-looking-to-be-fair Cedric, even more so when he was doing one of those little things that made his knees weak and his heart flutter like some pathetic little wimp in those romance novels Hermione kept tucked away in her closet.

No matter how infuriating he was though, Cedric loved him, and though he was loath to admit it, Harry was starting to grow fond of him as well. Cedric grew on you after all, kind of like some disgusting fungus, save a whole lot sexier.

Though why that was any grounds for them to get married though still eluded Harry, but Cedric had just proposed to him out of nowhere one day (though really, the restaurant, wine, long walk on the beach and the two rounds of sex on said beach should have given it away) and Harry was too much of a closet romantic to say no (if anyone asked, he blamed Hermione). That had caused a few outraged outbursts from his fandumb over him marrying so young, but Harry had politely told them to fuck off, and they had for once actually complied (and besides, he was nineteen and his parent had married right after Hogwarts – he had waited a year at least!).

Everything was packed. Harry glanced around his room, surprised by all the work he had gotten done while he had been reminiscing. Who knew that introspection could be so productive?

Harry flung himself on his bed for what could possibly be the last time, stretching out languidly. Cedric had asked for him to move in, which was kinda stupid considering pretty much everything he owned was in Cedric's apartment already, and Harry had been unable to refuse.

Harry pouted, clutching a pillow to his chest. Around Cedric, the definition of willpower seemed to change to something along the lines of 'yes, Master Cedric.'

Thank God he had never told Cedric what kind of power he had over him; he probably would be exempt from teasing (though Cho would never pass up the opportunity), but knowing him, Cedric would probably get off on the whole situation. Then again, a lot of things he did seemed to get Cedric off in some way.

Sometimes he wished he was more like his mother; at least she knew how to refuse his father. She had done it for years in Hogwarts! Harry had barely managed two weeks before Cedric had swept him up and never let him go.

And at other times, he was happy to be his own person; it was his prize for having to deal with all sorts of insecurities during the first eighteen years of his life thanks to his parents apparently being the paradigm of Wizarding saintliness. It was like a conquest of sorts; Cedric might get his rocks off being all alpha-male and shit, but Harry found his satisfaction in knowing that he had gotten what he wanted out of a life. A great job as a journalist for the Daily Quibbler ('Giving the Middle Finger to the Daily Prophet Every Day!'), a sexy fiancée, and an identity as a not-James and Lily entity.

And if he felt a warm rush of emotion when people said he was like his parents, then that was fine; he loved them both from the bottom of his heart and was normally proud to say so.

A thundering of footsteps ended his second bout of personal reflection (he really had to stop that, unless he was packing of course, because in that case it seemed oddly effective) and the next moment a black blur slammed into him, knocking his breath away.

"Oh, my gorgeous son, you've grown up so fast! I'm almost jealous of Ceddie; soon he'll have you all to himself, but you'll visit your beloved father, won't you? Of course you will, but first we have all of the wedding preparations to finish, and you will look stunning in the gown Lily wore during ours, and…"

Harry was tempted to kick James off of him, but instead he relaxed into his father's unorthodox embrace. He glanced over the still babbling James' shoulder whose messy hair, so much like his own, was flying all over the place and irritatingly into his eyes and met his mother's silently amused green eyes.

Their eyes really did look the same.

He had never felt prouder.

Writing this at *checks clock* 1:09 AM on Mother's Day as an impromptu fic.

The grammar and spelling probably look like shit, but I am far too tired to really revise this piece. And God knows that the plot is probably jumping all over the place, so I'm just going to claim that this fic is partially a Stream of Consciousness one (explanation: see Harry's Chosen One, chapter something or another) and leave it at that. Really it isn't that bad of an excuse, considering that most of the fic is Harry reminiscing.

So, just enjoy the fluffy AU, if that is possible. Also, to whoever correctly guesses the two animes I was channeling spiritually as I was writing this gets a gift fic. Not that anyone will guess, because it seems like no one reads these notes. *Pouts* I have really good things to say in these notes, or at least I think I do.

And, as I said before, all you mothers out there are truly awe-inspiring. I'm at that age that I'm finally realizing all the shit you have to put up with from immature bastards like us, and part of me wants to say sorry and another part wants to hug each and every one of you who just stood there and loved your child as they acted like the littlest piece of shit on the entire face of the earth.

You all rock.

Simple as that.

Ariaeris~

Ps: Off to hug my mother. I could do it every day, every minute of my life and it would never be enough. Thank you so much for all you've done for me. I love you.