Title: Old Pictures
Author: The Girl Who Loved
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I do not own the setting for this depressing little ficcy, sorry. Or the charachters. I only own my creative mind, and NO, It's not for sale!
Summary: Harry is looking through his photos of his parents, and wondering about them.
Genre: Drama
Dedication: To my cousin Adam, I hardly even knew you.
Reviewing the Reviews:
To Ginny Weasley:
Wow! A Gryffindor actually reviwed one of my stories! what A great honor. I'm just so sorry that it got lost when I re-uploaded... maybe you could review again?
Yes, angst-ridden Harry rather appeals to me too. Though I'm much more interested in Angst-ridden Draco and Snape. Can't imagine why ;)
They look so happy.
Mum in her white gown, with a lace veil, and Dad in his tuxedo. I can almost hear them laughing as mum stuffs coffee cake into his mouth.
Of course, it would help if I knew what their laughs sounded like.
I would give it all up. The fame, people shoving each other out of the way to shake my hand, the gold. The triwizard tournament, every single adventure I've had with my friends. I wouldn't keep all that for a second, if I could know what their laughs sounded like.
What were their favorite foods? Did Dad like his job? Did Mum have a job? What did Mum think of Sirius's pranks? Was she allergic to cats, or did she have one? What did Dad think about being rich? Why did they name me Harry? How did Mum do in classes? What was Dad's favorite subject in school? Did they have any other friends besides the Marauders? Did Dad know the Dursleys? Did he care? Did either of them sing to me when I was a baby? Did they have any big plans for their life?
Did they suaspect Sirius?
Did they suspect Remus?
Did they suspect Peter?
Did they ever have a reason to?
Would they have suspected them, even if they had?
How did they meet? When did they first start to fall in love?
All these unanswered questions. I could ask Sirius, but I won't. I can't. It has to be hard on him, to see them in me every time he looks at me. I was once told that I'm every inch my father, except for my eyes. My bright green eyes, that belonged to my mother.
I'm sure he thinks it's a punishment of sorts. A penance for insisting that Peter be their secret keeper. A consequence for giving them to Voldemort.
And in a way, I guess he's right.
But he will never know how much I envy him, for I will never tell him.
He sat next to my mother every day in classes. He knows how she fixed her hair, and if she hummed when she was writing, what her favorite class was... and wether or not she sucked on the end of her quill when she was thinking during History of Magic exams.
He knows the tone of her voice when she would speak, and the special kind of way she would smile, and the smell of the perfume she was wearing on her wedding day.
He was my fathers best friend. He knew the way my dad's mind worked. He knew my Dad's favorite shirt, and exactly what he thought about the Chudly Canons, and wether or not he could possibly have wanted to not be rich... and he knew wether his father would pull a Ron if someone misspronounced "Wronski Feint".
Would he rather go swim in the lake or take a trip into Hogsmeade? what did he look like when he was determined to do something? Did he get that same look that I do, whenever faced with Voldemort?
He will always know things that I never will.
He has memories, good and bad. Years worth of things to hold onto.
All I've got is some old pictures.
Author: The Girl Who Loved
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I do not own the setting for this depressing little ficcy, sorry. Or the charachters. I only own my creative mind, and NO, It's not for sale!
Summary: Harry is looking through his photos of his parents, and wondering about them.
Genre: Drama
Dedication: To my cousin Adam, I hardly even knew you.
Reviewing the Reviews:
To Ginny Weasley:
Wow! A Gryffindor actually reviwed one of my stories! what A great honor. I'm just so sorry that it got lost when I re-uploaded... maybe you could review again?
Yes, angst-ridden Harry rather appeals to me too. Though I'm much more interested in Angst-ridden Draco and Snape. Can't imagine why ;)
They look so happy.
Mum in her white gown, with a lace veil, and Dad in his tuxedo. I can almost hear them laughing as mum stuffs coffee cake into his mouth.
Of course, it would help if I knew what their laughs sounded like.
I would give it all up. The fame, people shoving each other out of the way to shake my hand, the gold. The triwizard tournament, every single adventure I've had with my friends. I wouldn't keep all that for a second, if I could know what their laughs sounded like.
What were their favorite foods? Did Dad like his job? Did Mum have a job? What did Mum think of Sirius's pranks? Was she allergic to cats, or did she have one? What did Dad think about being rich? Why did they name me Harry? How did Mum do in classes? What was Dad's favorite subject in school? Did they have any other friends besides the Marauders? Did Dad know the Dursleys? Did he care? Did either of them sing to me when I was a baby? Did they have any big plans for their life?
Did they suaspect Sirius?
Did they suspect Remus?
Did they suspect Peter?
Did they ever have a reason to?
Would they have suspected them, even if they had?
How did they meet? When did they first start to fall in love?
All these unanswered questions. I could ask Sirius, but I won't. I can't. It has to be hard on him, to see them in me every time he looks at me. I was once told that I'm every inch my father, except for my eyes. My bright green eyes, that belonged to my mother.
I'm sure he thinks it's a punishment of sorts. A penance for insisting that Peter be their secret keeper. A consequence for giving them to Voldemort.
And in a way, I guess he's right.
But he will never know how much I envy him, for I will never tell him.
He sat next to my mother every day in classes. He knows how she fixed her hair, and if she hummed when she was writing, what her favorite class was... and wether or not she sucked on the end of her quill when she was thinking during History of Magic exams.
He knows the tone of her voice when she would speak, and the special kind of way she would smile, and the smell of the perfume she was wearing on her wedding day.
He was my fathers best friend. He knew the way my dad's mind worked. He knew my Dad's favorite shirt, and exactly what he thought about the Chudly Canons, and wether or not he could possibly have wanted to not be rich... and he knew wether his father would pull a Ron if someone misspronounced "Wronski Feint".
Would he rather go swim in the lake or take a trip into Hogsmeade? what did he look like when he was determined to do something? Did he get that same look that I do, whenever faced with Voldemort?
He will always know things that I never will.
He has memories, good and bad. Years worth of things to hold onto.
All I've got is some old pictures.