Author: Sazmuffin
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Title: Shadows, Shades, and Silhouettes
Summary: There are some times when you just want your mom.
A/N: I've had this idea for a while now, and when I opened it in word, it was completely different. I wrote it on a whim, a burst of inspiration in a nanosecond.
Harry laid in his bed, clutching the sheets up to his chin. A single tear slowly glided down the bridge of his nose, and onto the pillowcase. His heart was racing and his skin stuck to the sheets like peanut butter. A headache pounded just behind his eyes and all he could think about was his mother.
He wanted to be loved. To be cared for and held onto as if he were about to slip away. He wanted to feel his mother's hands slowly stroking his cheek and her voice drifting lazily into his ears, telling him everything would be okay. He wanted his tears to wet her shoulder and her scent engulf him as only a mother could.
He wanted his mother to be there when he got married, he wanted her to give him away. He wanted her to be there to see him off to school, to wave goodbye to him with a tear rolling down her cheek.
He wanted her to be able to gloat about her son, tell all her friends how extraordinary he was at quidditch and how much his friends meant to him. He wanted her to experience life with a child, holding him as a baby; scolding him as child; raising him as a teenager, and swelling up with pride as he graduated.
He wanted to be able to tell her he got his first job, that he was getting married, that he was going to be a daddy, that she was going to be a grandma. He wanted her to be there as he won the World Cup, as he killed Voldemort.
Most of all, he wanted to know his mother. He wanted to know every color of her eyes and every laugh line adorning her beautiful face. He wanted to be able to finish her sentences and make her squeal with joy. He wanted to make her cry over his achievements and give him advice when he was in a rut.
But she was only shadows, shades, and silhouettes of his memories.