That Unusual Boy
DISCLAIMER: I'm not J.K. Rowling (even though I wish) so all this belongs to HER not me…I'm not rich enough
I saw a lot of people do this and I thought it would be a good idea:
Summary: Harry makes a mother's day card for Lily in Heaven (TEAR ALERT-at least for me-)
Rating: K
This is a (Not short) one shot about Harry on Mother's day
And just remember…reviews and views make me Happy
And…OK I lied…THIS story is my first Fanfiction not 'Baby Harry Goes to the Past' but if you like this story read that one!
"Ok class, Friday is Mothers Day, so we all are going to make a card for our mummies." said Mrs. Heffing. Being a primary school teacher was a hard job. You had snotty, whining, little children pulling on your hair, shirt, trousers, and occasionally your jumper. There was only one little kid who didn't represent a demon and that was 5 year old Harry Potter, a most unusual boy.
You can tell why Mrs. Heffing took a liking to the child; he was never rude, never spoke out of turn, and never whined, why, he was every teachers golden child! True, he had some appearance issues, and he was picked on by all the other little kids, but that was normal.
Now the school didn't really look into the background of each child, so unless his parents or guardian came to 'Parent Night' the teacher wouldn't know who the child lived with or any specific information about the kid, which made any questions about their 'Mother's Day' card a pain to answer.
"I'm going to give each of you a card, and a colored pencil. If you want to get any glitter, or stuff like that, it's all on the back BLUE table. When you're done, place your card on the RED table so I can read through for any mistakes, and grade it." finished Mrs. Heffing while simultaneously writing the instructions on the board for those who could read. She passed out a piece of paper cut out in the shape of a heart, and opened the box of mat pencils, letting the children pick which color they wanted.
Once she finished with that task she went up to the board and wrote 'Happy Mothers day!' and announced, "Now, on the front of the card write 'Happy Mothers day!', and copy the letters from the board. On the inside of the card write a nice message and then draw a picture on the other side. Got it?" Mrs. Heffing asked, and was satisfied with the feeble reply of 'Yes, Mrs. Heffing'.
As she walked around the classroom, she surveyed each card in turn; correcting the spelling mistakes, helping write their special message on the inside, and even assisting on drawing the picture. Once she stopped at Harry's desk, she noticed that his pencil was up but his paper was blank, and he didn't even look to be thinking about what he was supposed to write, instead he looked up at his teacher with a questioning, and sad look on his face.
"Mrs. Heffing?" Asked the small boy softly so she had to strain her ears to catch what he said. "Yes, Harry?" Replied the teacher, putting on her gentle tone of voice, "Who do I write my card to?" He gained the courage to ask. "What do you mean Harry? You're supposed to write your card to your mummy."
"Well, you see, my mummy is dead." Stated the boy so plainly, he could've been talking about the weather. This simple sentence tore Alana Heffing's heart in half. "Well, who do you live with? Maybe you could write a card to them?" But the boy just shook his head at her suggestion. "Aunt Petunia doesn't like it when I make her things, only when Dudley makes her things." replied the young lad, sniffling slightly while looking at the plump boy mentioned. Mrs. Heffing was taken aback. Could he mean Dudley's mother? Surely not! She seemed like a fine lady, not the kind to deny a treasure made by her nephew. "How about you make a card to your mummy? Up there." Mrs. Heffing resolved, while pointing to Heaven. "OK." answered the odd boy. Calls of "Mrs. Heffing this…" and "Mrs. Heffing that's…" distracted her from the task at hand, and soon the little boy was driven out of her head, but he was there, working hard to make his card perfect for HIS mummy.
A couple of hours later the day came to a close and all the sleepy children were chivied out of the classroom to their mummies and daddies. The teachers picked up their work and the projects of the little munchkins and left the building. As night blanketed the school, and all the shutters were drawn tight, one teacher sat at her desk in her home; tears flooding her weary eyes.
(end of chapter one)
The next day all the children came to school and did their math and ABC's before the bell rung signaling the end of another week, at a long last.
"Now everyone get in one line so I can hand back your cards for your mummies!" shouted Mrs. Heffing over the high pitched chitter-chatter of the kids. All the children did as was told, and in their oversized backpacks and slightly droopy eyes, they each got their respective card back. At the very end of the line stood Harry Potter, waiting patiently for his prized piece of work to be returned to him.
"And…Here! There you go Suzy. Oh! Here's Adams! ADAM! Here's your card dear. No, ADAM DO NOT PULL SALLY'S PIGTAILS! Sally, it's ok dear. Here's your s Harry dear." And with that sentence she leaned down and whispered in his ear, "Your card was the best." And with that shot him a small smile as he was ushered out of the door.
That night while Dudley was giving Aunt Petunia his card and cheap flowers, Harry was outside. The stars shone bright, and the half-moon lit up the neat backyard. There, little Harry Potter found the prettiest bush of flowers he could see and kneeled down beside them. They were Lilies. A tear rolled down his flushed cheeks, as he carefully placed the card inside the bush of flowers; concealing it from sight, but still there. Then, as quick as he came, he left, for Aunt Petunia was shouting at him to come back inside.
While confined inside his cupboard, a heavy wind blew through the backyard, and nudged the heart shaped card out of the bush. A second gust of wind came, and this time it picked up the card and whisked it upwards, towards the heavens.
Lily and James were perched atop a fluffy white cloud, bathed in moonlight, and just far enough to see their little boy run outside, linger for a moment, then dash back inside the house. They sighed deeply, wishing with all their hearts that they could be with him. Suddenly a heart drifted towards them, gliding in a soft, unnatural breeze upwards. "James." whispered Lily eyeing the now apparent card with interest. Her husband got up, seemingly mesmerized, and plucked the card from midair. He glanced at the front, and then glided over to his wife. "It's for you." He said softly while holding out the piece of paper. She took it with the air of grasping a fragile and delicate object and read the front of it before tears started streaming out of her emerald eyes. It displayed:
Happy Mother's Day!
The heart was a traditional red color with stars outlining the perimeter, glimmering silver and blue. Lily very carefully pulled open the card and in the inside it stated:
Deer Mum,
I dont no your real name, or how you look lik but I no that you loved me.
I sometimes wouder if you had red har, because if I rely try I can somtims see a buch of green liht and some red har. My speling is bad, I no, but I tied my best to make it perfet for you. I wunder if your wit dad wen you read this. I somtim dont beleve it wen Aunt Petuna says that you died in a car crash. I love and miss you, but thats ok, I no your hapy in heaven.
Love, Harry
And there was a picture of three stick figures; one had red hair, and startling green eyes with glasses and a skirt, the other had black hair and blue eyes, and the smallest one had green eyes, jet black hair, and circular glasses. There was a sun with a smiling face in the background.
Lily and James Potter were sobbing hysterically by the end of the card, and that night, in little Harry's bedroom, his dreams were full of rainbows and a certain red haired person saying, "I love you."