A/N: I am not Harry Potter, and I do not own JK Rowling ;)
Chapter 9: Asking Questions
Harry lay curled up in bed, clutching his toy dragon and watching as tiny white-blue stars glittered and sparkled above him.
Albus had charmed the ceiling so that it looked like the sky at night several months previously when Harry had moved from his toddler bed to a big kid's bed. Other parts of his room had changed too; there was no carpet, no changing table, no baby things like there had been when he'd first come to Hogwarts. Those hadn't been around for years now.
Instead there was a small bookshelf filled with children's books- both for Muggles and wizards, and toys were scattered all around the room: a model of a plane Albus and Aunt Minnie had given him for his last birthday when he'd turned four, which moved and started flying around whenever Harry told it to; a set of colourful marbles (Albus had said no to Gobstones until he was a bit older); a toy broom, which was rather small and only rose three or four meters off the ground, but it was all Harry needed; a mini potioneer's kit, which was very basic and made easy little potions that changed someone's hair color for 5 minutes and created harmless explosions. . .
He couldn't sleep.
Harry sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. A sliver of moonlight shone in through the two large windows, creating strange shadows on the floor and letting him see the outlines of the things in his room. Harry had been trying hard to feel sleepy for what seemed like hours, but he just wasn't tired, and it didn't make any sense. It wasn't as if he hadn't had an exciting day! Harry had spent the entire afternoon playing outside, running about all over the grounds and watching as Hagrid carried some giant pumpkins he had been growing for months up to the Great Hall to decorate it for Halloween. He should have been dropping from sleep, yet he wasn't.
And to top it off, every time he seemed to be about to fall asleep, a bright green flash would light up his vision. He didn't know where it came from, because he had no memory of ever seeing it before, yet it felt like he should. Like it was important.
Harry pushed himself off the bed and made his way out of his room and onto the landing. Yellowish light shone up from the office. Harry could hear the familiar sound of Albus' many odd contraptions whirling and ticking down below. He padded to the stairs and went down them slowly, his bare feet barely making a sound on the wooden steps.
'Harry?'
It was Albus, sitting at his large desk in the centre of the office with a quill and rolls parchment out in front of him. The man looked up when Harry reached the foot of the stairs, and Harry stopped in his tracks, startled.
'I can't sleep,' he said in a small voice, so quietly Albus barely heard him.
'Oh?' Albus got up from the desk and went over to Harry, putting a hand on his shoulder. 'What is it, Harry? It's very late.'
Harry usually didn't have any problem falling asleep. His bedtime was generally around 8 o'clock at night, and he'd never complained about it (except on rare occasions such as his birthday, when all he wanted to do was stay up until midnight).
'I- I don't know. . .' Harry sounded slightly upset. 'Albus. . .'
'Alright, Harry.' Albus took his hand and they went back upstairs. Once in Harry's room, Harry crawled under the covers and Albus sat down next to him, leaning against the headboard.
'Did you have a nightmare?'
'I don't know. . .' Harry said again. There was a short pause. 'Albus. . . wh-where are mummy and daddy?'
He wasn't sure why he'd asked the question. Albus and Minnie had told him lots of times before, but-
'They're gone Harry, you know that,' replied Albus softly.
'Y-yes. . .' Harry trailed off. 'But- but wha' happened to dem? Really?'
Albus gently put his arm around Harry's shoulders and Harry drew closer, once again holding onto his dragon, and rested his head on Albus' chest. He had never really explained to Harry what exactly had happened on that night exactly 3 years ago. Before, Harry had been too young- not ready to know the story, even a very simple and edited version of it, and the subject was always painful to talk about. Now though, and with Harry directly posing the question. . .
Albus closed his eyes.
'Would you like me to tell you a story?'
Harry looked at him, slightly unsure. '. . . okay.'
And so he began.
'Well. . . Once upon a time, there lived a man and a woman called Lily and James, who decided to get married and be together, because they cared for each other very much. And shortly after that, they had a little baby boy who they named Harry James Potter.'
'Me!' cried Harry. 'Albus, das' me!'
'Yes,' said Albus, smiling sadly. 'But let me continue. They had a little baby called Harry, who they loved more than anything else in the world. . . but one day, a bad wizard came. I've told you before, Harry, how there used to be a lot of fighting when you were younger. You remember that, don't you?'
Harry nodded slowly, face scrunched up into a small frown.
'Yes, and this particular wizard, he was the one fighting on the bad side, and he didn't like Lily and James or their little baby Harry because they were on the good side.'
'He didn't like me?' whispered Harry.
'No, Harry. He didn't. There were a lot of people he didn't like. But on one Halloween night, he came to your house- where you used to live, and-'
'And he made mummy and daddy go!'
Albus paused for a second. 'Yes. He made them go. A bad wizard called Voldemort.'
'But not me?'
'No, Harry, not you.'
'Vowdemot. . .'
'Yes, that was his name. Lord Voldemort. Never be afraid to say his name, Harry.'
'And he made dem go. . . forever?'
'Yes, Harry, forever. But your parents are still with you. In here,' he touched the area above Harry's heart gently. 'And we are here. Minerva and I. We took care of you after your parents were gone. We still do.'
Harry was nodding again, but Albus wasn't sure how much he had understood. He hugged Harry tighter to him, remembering when he had first rescued him from Godric's Hollow, and brought him to Hogwarts, and then seen him grow up from a 15-month-old baby to a four-year-old boy. Harry had been with them for three years now, three whole years.
It was incredible how fast time had flown by.
'Do you think you can go to sleep, now?' Albus asked Harry after a few minutes of silence. The answer came in the form of several slow, deep breaths. Smiling slightly, Albus got up from the bed and positioned Harry's head gently onto the pillow- careful not to wake him up- then went and stood in the doorway, looking back at the sleeping child in the bed.
'Goodnight, Harry.'
A/N: Thank you for reading, and please review if you can! I really appreciate it :)
