Prompts at the bottom!
You receive Hagrid's request in the mail, and you hate yourself for it.
Dear Remus,
Harry don't have any pictures of his Mum and Dad…
You open an old suitcase. You unclasp something you wanted to keep clasped forever.
It takes you a week to look at it again. You've left it on your nightstand. Tormenting you.
You see four boys and one girl, laughing on a summer's day.
And you hate them all.
What might Harry say, you wonder? You kept these photographs for so long.
Replying to Hagrid terrifies you.
Because that hatred is all you have left of them. Because Harry has nothing of you, and nothing of them either, and all you have to give him is rotten.
You hate Peter because he's dead.
You hate him because maybe you never loved him as much as the others. Maybe, somehow, somewhere, he'd stopped being an equal. You hate him because he made you think he was the spy.
But mostly you hate yourself. You never spent enough time with him. You never gave him the trust and love he deserved — poor, brave, Peter.
In that photograph, he's laughing. Peach ice cream is dripping down his robes.
You hate Sirius because he kept trying to steal your chocolate cone, that day.
You hate him because, while the others were celebrating, you were crying.
You hate him because he should have been crying with you.
You hate him because you hated Dementors; you thought nobody deserved that fate. But now you're not so sure, and that makes you hate yourself.
You hate him because you loved him.
You hate Lily and James almost as much as you hate yourself.
You hate that they're laughing and happy.
You hate Lily's baby bump because none of you will ever take that child to Fortescue's and because you've failed that child even more than you failed his mother and father.
You hate James's reassuring smile because he promised that you'd have financial support and a purpose and a family.
You hate how Lily eats her peanut butter and strawberry sundae so perfectly because someone that beautiful and strong has no right to be the victim.
You hate the way the sunlight hits James's messy hair, because you're alive, and he's dead.
Does Harry have that hair? Does he laugh and eat ice cream in the sun? Will you ever know, and do you want to? Can you, after all this time?
You hate yourself the most, and that's why you tuck those photographs into an envelope. You failed James and Lily — you should have been their Secret Keeper. You failed Sirius — you loved a good man and that is a monster. You failed Peter — because, even now, you miss him the least.
It's not an act of kindness, or of courage. It's the only path left to you, and so you take it.
Maybe someday, somehow, you won't fail Harry.
A/N: Thanks for reading. Any and all feedback is treasured!
Written For:
The Houses Competition: Gryffindor, Year 1, Drabble Round 1, (weather) sunny
Hogwarts Challenges and Assignments:
- Gryffindor, Assignment #1, Ancient Runes, Task #2: Write about someone facing his fears
- Writing Club, Showtime, So Big/So Small: (style) flashback
- Dragon Appreciation
- Sticker Challenge: (werewolf) Write about someone who carries a heavy burden
- Bath Bombs: (azure skies) set your story on a beautiful, sunny day
Word Count: 489