Disclaimer: I do not own anything at all related to or part of JK Rowling's Harry Potter books. No suing me.
A/N: Someone reviewed and said the last chapter was a bit confusing. I fixed it a little. Just added a few sentences to maybe make it a little clearer. It was just clear to me I guess cuz before I wrote that chapter I made a semi-family tree. Because the first time I tried to figure it all out I ended up with some really strange things going on. Hopefully, it's a little clearer. I don't know if I recommend a re-read. It's only like three sentences that changed out of seventeen pages.
So if you are still confused a bit: Voldie's daddy had two sons, Jonathan first that he dumped at an orphanage after finding out that Voldie's mom was a witch. He stuck around long enough to name Voldie after himself at the hospital, and then left or whatever. So Voldie had no idea that he had a brother ever. I figure the orphanage was a few towns away or whatever. Something like that anyway…
Hey, and I know that there's people reading this, so please review if you do. It means a lot to me. Thanks.
Okay now on with the chapter before I get too carried away…
000000000000000000000 Chapter 11: Mother Dearest 000000000000000000
When Harry came down to dinner, reluctant to leave his bedroom, only Tonks and Remus were present. The room felt tense and overly-empty. Harry didn't like it at all.
"Where's Bill?" he asked, as he flopped down in a chair. He still felt a little queasy from the potion earlier, but he knew he needed to eat something.
"Bill went home," Remus said casually.
"He found out," Harry said flatly. Remus glanced up with a worried frown.
"He found the papers…It was just a shock, is all," he tried. "And he was still somewhat hung over."
"Sure," Harry agreed morosely. He wondered how Ron would react if he ever found out…it was inevitable, probably…and it wouldn't be pretty.
"Harry, I think I should warn you," Remus said slowly. "Everyone in the Order is going to know of this by tonight, when we have our meeting. Albus is trying hard not to keep secrets any more."
"Great. So he can keep secrets from me, but he'll gladly tell everyone else my secrets," Harry grumbled.
"You're invited to the meeting," Remus said abruptly. Harry sat up straight in his chair.
"I am?" he asked, shocked. Mrs. Weasley would have a cow over that, and Ron would probably be jealous…
"Albus doesn't want you left out of our decision and plans, Harry," Remus explained. "Although a requirement for your full membership in the Order includes mastering basic Occlumency skills."
Harry slumped at that. There was no way he'd learn Occlumency in less than several years. Not with Snape 'teaching' him. "Well, that's hopeless then," he said out loud. Remus rolled his eyes.
"Harry, I know you can do this. Just try to work with Professor Snape and not against him. He's not going to change, but you can," Remus suggested. "And anyway—Dumbledore spoke with me before he left, and I'm going to sit in on the lesson. So he won't torment you too much, or I promise I'll stop the lesson."
"What're you going to do? Yell at him?" Harry asked grumpily. "I'm sure that'll work."
"Or he could punch him in the eye," Tonks cut in with an evil grin. "That seems to get across to him."
"Nymphadora!" Remus scolded. Tonks blushed and looked away.
"Sorry," she said. "No more suggestions from me."
"But I like yours!" Harry objected. Remus mock-glared at him.
"I will not be hitting Professor Snape, Harry. And if I catch you punching, hitting, or otherwise attacking Professor Snape, Harry, you'll be grounded for a month," he threatened. Harry laughed.
"I can't leave this house anyway," he pointed out. Remus thought about it.
"I'll tell Kreacher to wait on you for a week," he tried. Harry shook his head.
"You do that and I'll give him clothes," he countered. Remus laughed.
"Go ahead and try, Harry. Try throwing him a sock. He'll dodge it," Remus informed him. Harry knew he was caught, but he wasn't going to give up.
"Well, if you don't see me hit him, you can't punish me," he pointed out. "It's not like Snape would tell you that he got punched by me."
"At least no sucker-punching, please," Remus asked. Harry nodded.
"I'll give him a chance, the greasy git—"
"Harry!" Remus broke in. Harry sighed.
"Sorry," he apologized, not sorry in the least. Snape was a greasy git. "I won't do anything unless he says something first."
"Harry—" Remus groaned. Harry smirked, feeling a little violent.
"I can't help it that all Snape does is torment me. He doesn't have to when no one's around. You should have seen him, Remus…he just smiled…" his slightly good feeling died as he remembered Snape just staring down at him while he thrashed and screamed…
Remus and Tonks seemed to understand his sudden silence. They quieted as well, and Tonks stopped eating for a bit. Harry couldn't stand the tension in the air. All because of his mother…
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The red-haired woman smiled and, laughing, tapped the dark-haired young man on the shoulder. She whispered something in his ear that made him shoot a quick glance at the messy-haired man to his left before almost collapsing in laughter. The messy-haired man glared at the woman playfully and mouthed something.
The woman said something back, and a brown-haired man laughed. There was a nervous man standing to one side, and he kept glancing around worriedly every few moments.
Tears obscured the nervous man. They dropped on the glass and rolled, smearing the image with water.
Harry breathed in sharply, realizing that he was crying, and wiped the tears away with the back of his hand. He smeared the tears on the photograph's glass cover so that Wormtail was hidden completely in watery distortions. He did not want to see Wormtail. Peter, the betrayer…
His mother was telling Sirius something else that caused the young man to laugh so hard he fell to his knees.
James was fuming, but not seriously. How could he be angry with his Lily? He was too in love with her to be angry with her for anything…
And Remus, looking a little peaked but actually rather well, for him, said something that made Lily's eyes widen as she darted a look at James. Then, her face broke out into a wicked smile.
James gulped, tugging at his shirt collar, and inched a little over to the left. Lily said something that made James jump, blushing deep red, and Sirius tried to stand, still laughing too hard to talk.
Remus looked smug, arms crossed. Whatever he'd said had been pretty funny, it seemed.
Harry loved watching them. He'd spent all evening watching them, ever since he'd left the table abruptly. Retreated from it in silence and pain…
The photograph was his haven now. He planned now to keep it on the small bedside table so he could reach it whenever he needed it. He'd felt betrayed at first, seeing his mother in the photograph and knowing now who her uncle was, but now that he'd had a bit of a chance to accept it, it didn't seem to matter as much. No matter what, he still wanted her back. He wanted them all back. His father, Sirius, and his mother.
The glass lily was there on his bedside table as well. He was afraid to keep it under his pillow now that it was cracked. The flower was such a powerful reminder of his mother…he just wished it could have stayed whole. But somehow it was fitting. Ironic in its own way.
He loved watching his parents and their friends all together. He supposed Sirius had kept it for that very same reason. Because he had missed his friends as much as Harry had missed having a family.
He felt cheated, really. He'd never gotten to have a family. Not like Ron and Hermione. They had parents that loved them. Almost every student at Hogwarts had parents that loved them. Except those that Voldemort had targeted for whatever reasons.
And at least Neville had relatives that wanted him to be magical and at least cared about him a little. They wouldn't be happier if he was dead. Not like the Durlseys.
Harry felt a little guilty for sitting in bed wallowing in his self-pity. He felt like he deserved at least an hour of self-pity after so many years, but he still felt a little guilty doing it. A voice in his head that sounded eerily like Hermione told him sharply that he had to make do with what he did have…which wasn't much, admittedly, but he couldn't just let it overwhelm him.
He shook his head, trying to clear it. His mother. It was his mother that was the problem this time. At least it hadn't been something she'd consciously done. After all, she couldn't choose her parents, nor could she choose who her child was going to be…
At least she wasn't like James Potter had been. James, the conceited, stuck up prat that thought everything revolved around him. The cool boy at school. James, who taunted and humiliated other less-liked students because he could. Because he got bored, or because he wanted to impress some girl.
That made him feel sick, even now. Even though Remus had said that they were just fifteen year olds at the time…that everyone that age did stupid things.
And yet Harry could not imagine himself humiliating someone just because they existed. Because that was what Dudley had done to him until he went to Hogwarts. Especially when he was in primary school…his time there had been as close as he'd ever gotten to Hell on earth.
His father had changed. He knew that. How could he not? He got married, got a very serious job, had a child… And Harry knew first hand, for a fact, that his father had selflessly given his life for his wife and child. No coldhearted prat could do that.
Sirius hadn't been given a chance to change much. Azkaban tore that from him. He tried, but Harry had the feeling that Sirius was stuck in the past. Those twelve years had taken his life from him, left him with only the very worst of it. How could you recover that?
Snape was allowed to hate James and Sirius, if he wanted. On his own time, and quietly. That was all he would give the greasy, pale git. It was the same as him hating Snape not-so quietly…but Snape really and truly had started it, so he didn't feel like a hypocrite for hating Snape vocally. An eleven year old boy cannot possibly be the one responsible in a student-professor fight.
Snape had no reason to torment him. Just because he happened to look like his father. His very much dead father. Who had only been five years older than he was now when he was murdered.
How could Snape say the things he did? Harry didn't understand how he'd come to earn Snape's undying hatred like he had. He knew for a fact that the animosity had been initiated by Snape. He hadn't been the one to humiliate anyone in class. He hadn't accused Snape of breaking rules every chance he got, nor had he tried to get him fired. Although Snape did break rules all the time, or at least bend them to his wishes.
No, James Potter had not been a nice person when he was fifteen. Probably he hadn't figured it out until after Sirius's attempted prank. Knocked some sense into his teenaged head.
Lily hadn't wanted anything to do with James Potter before sixth year. She had been smart enough to see him for what he was. Ignorant. Arrogant. Prat with a huge, bolded, capital 'P.'
She had been sweet and smart. Everyone said that, and since Snape had never argued that, he assumed it was probably true. She had died for him. He knew that from the dementors. No one could deny that she had died for him. No one. She would never have handed her son over to death. She was real, pure.
Not anymore, it seemed. Not when her own uncle was her murderer. Her blood was Riddle blood. As was his. He was probably Voldemort's closest relative, he supposed. His heir, perhaps. He was very lucky, he realized, that Voldemort had never figured it out. If his blood tie were stronger than his half-aunt's, then Voldemort probably could have just waltzed into Privet Drive and taken Harry…if he had known about the relationship. It didn't seem like he did.
His eyes were fixed on Lily. She was teasing Sirius now, instead of her future husband, and Sirius kept shifting uncomfortably, looking around worriedly. He ran his fingers through his thick black hair and said something back to her. She blushed prettily and said something else that made Remus laugh suddenly and Sirius duck away, beet red.
Sweet and devilish…he could see it now, her Slytherin side. She was certainly not all innocence and beauty. She had a cunning streak in her. Overshadowed by her intelligence and caring, probably, but there nonetheless. He just wished his mother could have stayed perfect. Without the curls of red grasping at the white…
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"Harry? The meeting's beginning soon."
Harry got out of the bed for probably the fifth time that day. Remus had sounded tentative at best, worried and nervous.
"Coming," he said, loud enough to be heard outside of the door. He stuffed his feet back into his shoes and tromped out of his room, heading down the hall and down the stairs. He knew the meetings were held at the long, formal dining room table, and he headed there without looking around at anything. He did not want to see anyone's faces yet. If they knew, they would be full of fear and worry…if they didn't, they soon would.
"There you are, Harry," he heard. He looked up. Dumbledore was smiling warmly at him from where he stood near the head of the dining room table. He gave him a wan smile in return, then looked down the table for an empty seat. There were only a few members present yet, and Harry quickly took a seat towards the foot of the table, next to Tonks. Remus was farther up the table, near Dumbledore. Kinglsey Shacklebolt and Bill Weasley were both near Remus, and Hestia Jones was a little further down the table.
Mad-eye Moody came in the room next, stomping heavily on his wooden leg. Harry kept his eyes down, just watching out of the very corner of his eyes as Moody took a seat on the same side as him, three chairs away.
Charlie appeared next, looking tired. He had burn marks on his left arm that were only partially covered by his tattered sleeve. He smiled around breathlessly and sat down, oblivious to the tension building around the table.
Harry stared at his hands, refusing to meet anyone's questioning eyes. No one said a word about him being there. They just kept glancing at him, looking halfway between worried and annoyed. He probably looked like he was refusing to leave or something. Certainly it wouldn't occur to them that he could have been invited.
A frown flashed across his face as he saw that Snape had arrived, McGonagall, Sprout, Flitwik, and Hooch coming soon after. They took up most of the rest of the seats, leaving only two…next to Harry's right. It seemed no one wanted to sit too close to him…
He found out just who the last two were. "Harry?!" Mrs. Weasley cried when she saw him. He jerked, looking up in surprise. He'd forgotten that she and Mr. Weasley were members of the Order.
"Hullo, Mrs. Weasley," he said quietly.
"Albus! What is he doing at the meeting?" Mrs. Weasley demanded, turning. Albus smiled.
"Harry is sixteen, Molly. He is also central to many of Voldemort's (Several flinches here, Harry noted) plans. It is only right that he be included," Dumbledore explained. Mrs. Weasley frowned, looking a little annoyed.
"The Order is not for children, Albus! …No offense to you, Harry," she added with a small smile for him. Harry just stared at her, willing himself not to care what she said. "It is much too dangerous—"
She stopped as Dumbledore held up a hand. "Molly, I agree with you completely, but I do not feel that Harry here is a child. He has not been for some time. Also, some information has come to light that makes Harry's role in this Order much more important."
"What—" Mr. Weasley began.
"Please, sit," Dumbledore requested. "All will be explained in due time."
The two parent Weasleys sat down without any more protest, Mrs. Weasley sitting down next to him. She patted his knee and gave him a small smile. Harry smiled back weakly, and then felt a hand on his shoulder.
Tonks. Harry glanced over at her and saw that she had a slightly annoyed expression on her face. She turned away when she caught him looking and blushed. Harry rolled his eyes. He wondered if it was just him, or did women always want to take care of parentless children?
"Now that everyone is here, we shall begin," Dumbledore said gravely. "First of all, I know that you are all wondering why Mr. Potter has joined us. And, as I said, I feel that it is time he were involved. He plays an important part in this, and I was wrong last year keeping him out of it."
Harry nodded his head slightly, trying to show that he accepted the covert apology. He and Dumbledore were even now. They had both apologized for their actions. "I'm grateful to be allowed here," he said.
"It is a risk having him here," Snape spoke up. Harry glared at him, trying to keep from looking too angry at the man. "He has too much of a connection to the Dark Lord. He will compromise our situation."
There were some murmurs of agreement and Harry looked down. It didn't look like his membership in the Order was going to last that long after all. "I have given Harry this opportunity, as long as he masters the basics of Occlumency," Dumbledore spoke out slightly louder to be heard over the others.
"Well, he didn't do it last year," Snape spoke out snidely. Harry clenched his hands into fists, feeling even more upset. He hated Snape. Snape was the only one vocally trying to get him kicked out.
"Then it is up to you to help him, isn't it?" Dumbledore said softly. The chastisement could be heard in his tone, and Harry smirked. "Of course, I'm sure Harry will try much harder this time around?" The smirk vanished and he looked away again. Dumbledore didn't have to say that. His stupidity with Occlumency had led to Sirius's death. Of course he would master it this time. He'd do anything to stop another death.
Snape didn't respond to Dumbledore's quiet question. "I think you should tell them now," Bill spoke up, face still pale and drawn. Dumbledore sighed as everyone looked curious and concerned.
"Bill is referring to several points of information that have come to light. The one that he does not know is something that I was informed about a few days ago. It seems that Voldemort has become more determined to kill Harry," Dumbledore explained. The two hands came back a moment, squeezing his shoulders one right after the other. Harry shifted a little, annoyed, and they both pulled away. "He has been using dark spells and potions in order to tighten the connection he and Harry share, so that when he has visions he directly experiences them."
Harry shifted uncomfortably. He did not want any comfort from anyone. Not now. But he felt like he should say some sort of explanation… "Er, last night I had a vision," he explained. "He was torturing two men."
"The hope is that Occlumency will stop this," Dumbledore explained. "These visions, though they can be helpful—" –here he glanced at Mr. Weasley, who nodded—"—are not helpful enough to warrant their continuation. It is too much of a danger to Harry and to the Order."
"Perhaps this is too dangerous…" Shaklebolt murmured. Everyone looked nervous. Dumbledore still hadn't dropped the bombshell.
Harry could tell he was about to. The old wizard sighed, breathing out slowly. "There is more," he said slowly. "The information that Bill here wishes me to divulge." He produced several sheets of paper, and Harry recognized the letter he'd received from the Office of Ancestry.
Before Harry could protest or say a word Dumbledore had replicated the family tree page and set it around the room. A copy fluttered into Harry's hands, and once again he forced himself to look at it, at the lines that showed how his grandfather was Voldemort's older half-brother.
The room was silent. A few papers rustled as hands shook, but no one said a word for at least five minutes. Harry didn't know what to do. Now that he was at least partly over the shock of it all, it annoyed him to see other people looking so frightened and worried. It wasn't like Voldemort was their relative. Just his…
"Is—" Mr. Weasley began, then had to stop and clear his throat, "Is this accurate?" he asked.
"It is," Dumbledore confirmed. There were a few gasps, and Harry found himself wanting to jump up on the table and tell everyone to just get over it already. Or maybe jump up and start cackling madly and cursing people. They'd probably wouldn't be surprised. Just showing his Slytherin side or something… "Severus administered a form of a lineage potion to Harry in order to confirm it."
"And so Lily…" Mrs. Weasley said weakly.
"Was Voldemort's niece, yes," Dumbledore explained patiently. "The Office of Ancestry works in complete confidentiality. All information is automatically recorded. No one at the office ever sees any of the information."
"Then why was it sent?" Hestia Jones spoke up. She sounded very frightened, and Harry noticed that the others only looked at him in the form of quick glances. No one made eye contact with him. It was as if they expected to see Voldemort staring out at them…
He was just happy that no one had bolted from the room. He would've quit right then and there if they had.
"Harry here is the last of the Potter and Evans/Riddle lines. Voldemort killed his father and his father's parents, his mother died in childbirth, and Jonathan Riddle…Jacob Evans…was killed with his wife sometime later. And then he killed his niece. Petunia Dursley is not related to him at all. The only one left is Harry."
"He's my grand-uncle," he supplied. Just to see everyone flinch, mostly. He did not like their skittish, worried behavior. It was annoying at best. "Grand-uncle Tom Marvolo Riddle," he added as an afterthought. He was feeling a little sarcastic at the moment.
"That will be enough, Harry," Dumbledore said gently. Harry caught Snape giving him his patented Death Glare. The one that he reserved for those moments when Harry was 100% certain that Snape was imagining Harry drawn and quartered, or maybe writhing in pain under the Cruciatus Curse for a few hours. The glare that promised very, very painful death.
He returned it with the glare that meant if he thought it would accomplish anything remotely useful, he would turn Snape over to Voldemort the first chance he got. Snape looked away haughtily, and Harry smirked.
"What does it mean for us?" Charlie asked, recovering. He didn't look quite as shell-shocked as Bill still did.
"The blood connection is hard to determine," Dumbledore admitted. "A half-aunt versus a half-grand-uncle is hard to determine. I will work on this on my own time. Other than that, though, it does not change much. Voldemort already used Harry's blood for his rebirth. His blood is very similar to Harry's now."
Harry shivered in his seat. He hadn't thought of it that way. Voldemort's blood was his blood…and now his blood was Voldemort's. It had all come full circle in some sort of ridiculous irony. Mrs. Weasley must have seen his smirk because she turned towards him. "Are you all right, Harry?" she asked him worriedly.
He looked up at her, realizing that he now looked straight into her eyes. He had, for some time, he noted with a start. For some reason, he always remembered being eleven when he saw her, looking up at a smiling red-haired woman… It seemed so long ago.
"Yeah," he said. "Fine. My grand-uncle just wants to finish off the last of his family is all."
Mrs. Weasley frowned. "Albus…" she said, without looking away from him. Harry found he couldn't look away either, though he dearly wanted to. It was like she was reading his eyes. He wished he could lie, but his eyes betrayed him all of the time.
"Harry would tell me if he needed to talk, wouldn't you, Harry?" Dumbledore said. Harry wanted to nod. He forced himself to nod.
"Yeah," he said. He wasn't totally sure he meant it. But he would try to talk to someone.
The look in Mrs. Weasley's eyes promised that the person he would be talking to would be her. The hand on his shoulder promised that it would be Tonks.
And the only person he really wished he could talk to was Sirius…
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Harry waited in the hall for the meeting to finish. He'd been excused after a few more questions—it wasn't that Dumbledore didn't want him there, it seemed, but that he needed to learn to block his mind before they could trust him with any really important secrets. Otherwise, Voldemort would just shove into his mind at night and pick through for the things he wanted.
Snape had sent him a 'wait for me to come find you' glare as he left, and Harry had remembered with dread the coming Occlumency lesson. It would not go well, he knew for certain. He was too emotional at the moment to even consider clearing his mind, so instead he just focused his thoughts into one problem. His mother.
He focused on her, imagining her alive and talking and laughing. He imagined just what she'd say if she found out her uncle was none other than the one that wanted her dead. 'Perhaps I can reach him,' he could imagine her words clearly. To bad he couldn't really imagine her voice…all he'd heard were her screams and pleas… 'Family must help family, you know, no matter what path they've chosen.'
He was knocked right out of those thoughts by the door of the dining room slamming open. Snape stood there, glaring. "Come, Potter," he snapped. "It is time we began. Again."
"Fine," he snapped back. "Where's Remus?"
"You will call me sir," Snape said icily. "And the werewolf will be in shortly." Harry breathed once, thinking of his mother. Remember her, he told himself. Don't think about Snape. Greasy, stupid—no! Red hair, smiling, laughing…that was better.
"Yes, sir," he said out loud, proud that his voice sounded unconcerned, almost pleasant. Snape actually glanced over curiously at the sound of his voice, but Harry just smiled while he thought of the photograph again. He wondered just what they'd been talking about that day. It was probably hilarious and completely care-free.
They went into the sitting room where he, Dumbledore, and Remus had talked before. There was a fire crackling in the fireplace, and the room was better lit than before. Instead of plush chairs, there was a desk and two wooden chairs on the now-stone floor. Harry realized this room must be something like the Room of Requirement. It changed to fit their needs.
They waited in tense silence for Remus to arrive. He did, after a few more minutes, and gave Harry a tenuous smile before taking a seat a little away from the other two. He was an observer, not a participant in the lesson. Harry sighed, hoping Remus kept his word to keep Snape in line.
"Are you prepared?" Snape asked him sharply. He nodded, allowing himself to stay lost in thought. He didn't think he could keep Snape out of his mind, but he was sort of hoping that he'd only see the memories he chose. Namely, those concerning his mother. If it worked, he planned next time to focus on his father. Just to annoy Snape.
"Sure," he said out loud, taking his wand out. He didn't even look at Snape. He just stared past him, wondering if he could find some more pictures of his mother to put up down here.
As if catching his thoughts, the painting on the wall he was staring at suddenly sported a red-haired woman who wandered into the painting smiling and carrying a basket. Harry smiled, happy even if the woman probably wasn't his mother. "Legillimens!" Snape snapped, startling Harry somewhat. He raised his own wand as he realized Snape had cast the spell, but did nothing else to fight back.
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'James Potter! Stop that this instant!' he heard his mother's voice. He wondered what she was talking about. The memory was very old. Something he did not consciously remember.
He knew he was supposed to be fighting it, but he couldn't. He wanted to hear what was going on. 'Sorry, Lils,' came his father's voice, sounding embarrassed.
'You're going to give him a fear of flying, James, if you don't stop tossing him up like that!' Lily scolded. Harry realized the reason the vision in this memory was so fuzzy was because his father had been tossing him up into the air repeatedly, making little whirring noises. He heard his own giggles.
'See? He likes it, Lily! Born to fly, this one,' James said. Harry felt a wave of anguish, longing…how much he wished he could have just a few memories of his parents!
The memory changed even as he strained to hear more. Now, it was the shadows coming from Voldemort's wand. His mother dropped from the wand tip, a gray shadowed form. He swallowed, remembering her few words. It was like she was there. Like his father was there…
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The memory dissolved suddenly, before a single word had been spoken. The room came back into focus.
Harry blinked. He had no idea what had happened. He hadn't done anything. From the look on Snape's face, he was similarly baffled. "What did you do, Potter?" Snape demanded. Harry thought about it.
"Er—I just watched, I think," he said. "I've been thinking about my mother all day, so I just kept thinking about her when you did the spell. And then it just dissolved…"
"You did something, Potter," Snape accused. "Legillimency does not just stop working because someone is standing there doing nothing."
"Severus," Remus said suddenly, tone warning. Snape glared but didn't continue in his tirade. Harry wanted to provoke the man some more, but he figured he'd rather just have Snape gone. So much for his 'never come back' policy. He wouldn't be able to keep Snape away.
"Well, that's all I did," Harry said flatly. He didn't want to end the day angry, but it was looking likely that it wouldn't happen. Snape just couldn't let things be.
"Were you trying to repel me with your mind?" Snape pressed.
"No, not really," Harry said honestly. "I wanted to hear more of what my mum said. I don't have any memories of her, except for when she was killed," he pointed out. Snape glared at him, as if upset that he'd brought the subject up at all.
"What were you thinking, then?" Snape demanded. Harry sighed.
"Hmm…well, I was sort of sad, I guess, wondering what it would've been like if they were here instead of dead…that's about it," he summed it up. Snape eyed him.
"We will continue this later, Potter," Snape said, after a quick glance Remus's direction. Obviously, he didn't want to give the other man anything to tell Dumbledore. "I wish to do some research, and you should be fine for tonight. Do not think that this constitutes an improvement, Potter. Because the Dark Lord would rip through your pathetic attempts to block him in mere seconds."
"Thanks," Harry said sarcastically. He did not say sir and Snape didn't remind him to. Instead, the dark man swept out of the room angrily. Harry shrugged.
"That was short," Remus commented. Harry sighed.
"Something happened," he admitted. "The spell quit working."
"Did you do anything at all?" Remus asked. He stood up and came over, looking interested. Harry sighed.
"I was just thinking about my mum," he said honestly. "It was kind of like the first time Voldemort possessed me. And I thought of Sirius falling…and then it just lifted and pulled away…"
"Harry…" Remus said softly. Harry stepped away. He did not need Remus hugging him right now. They still needed to have that talk about that…
"I'm fine," he said shortly. "I'm sure the next lesson will be much worse than this," he added grouchily. He just wanted to take a bath and go to bed. That was it.
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He held the photograph tightly in his hands. His mother was sitting now, seemingly tired of standing for so long. She was leaning against James, giggling softly at something he'd said.
He was playing with her long red hair. Twirling his fingers through it, his eyes shining. Her large green eyes twinkled as she looked up at him. They twinkled even more as Harry's tears once again dripped onto the glass. He wished with all of his might at just that moment…that he could have seen his parents alive just once, together like they were in the photograph. So in love with each other…
Sirius and Remus were off to one side, chatting and every now and then checking out girls that walked by in the background of the picture. One must have heard some comment Sirius made because she came over, smacked him hard, and stormed off. Remus wouldn't stop laughing even when Sirius tackled him.
Peter was no longer in the picture. He had wandered away. Harry did not care.
The four were happy in the photograph. Happy, like Harry wished he could be. Perhaps someday, when he, Ron, and Hermione graduated they would be like that. Voldemort dead, the only thing worrying them being their future careers.
He set the photograph upright on the small table beside the bed. Lying back, he watched it a few moments longer before taking his glasses off and settled down further. That was how he wanted his graduation to be. Happy. Carefree. He'd do anything for it to be like that…even if he did get smacked by some girl like Sirius had.
He'd kill Voldemort, if that was what it took. He wanted his life back.
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A/N: This is kind of a very angsty chapter. I titled it the way I did because it spends a lot of time focusing and refocusing on Harry's thoughts about his mother. He loves her so much because she's the only one he's got left that isn't guilty of some fault or crime. And then he had to learn this about her…well, he's just trying to come to an understanding about it. It's hard.
The photograph and Harry crying what—twice? in this chapter won't continue. It's kind of symbolic thing for him. You'll see.
Hopefully, I haven't lost anyone with this plot. I'm sorry if Voldemort being related to Harry seems wrong or unrealistic to you, but it works for me if I stretch my imagination a little bit. It's not any more unrealistic than some of the other plots people do. They're all just as good. If you have any suggestions at all, though, go ahead and tell me! I love suggestions and questions, and I do my best to answer those that I do get.
Don't think that I don't want to hear what you have to say. How can the story get better if no one tells me what they think? And a huge thanks to those that have reviewed recently: Angel74, mindylou, Oblivion13, hedowl5, numba1, David305, etc. You're all very appreciated. Thanks.
--Miss Laine