Hello out there, this might be what people call a "writer's block" fic. I'm hoping it'll help me get over mine. Anyway, this isn't your typical happy Harry and his parents are reunited story. If you don't like angst stories, please don't read this one. You've been warned.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry, Sirius, Remus, Lily, or James.
Alive
"Sirius, what are you doing?" Harry asked as his godfather pulled him into the living room of Remus' cottage. It wasn't his birthday, it wasn't any holiday; there really wasn't any reason for Sirius to be so excited. But for some reason, Sirius was smiling and he was pulling him across the room with such strength that Harry wondered if his arm was dislocated. A few moments later, they entered the living room. In the corner of the room stood two people who were about Sirius and Remus' age. One was tall with black hair, the other a head shorter, but with flaming red hair. Harry didn't have to ask who they were. He turned his back and walked out of the room, leaving the two standing in the corner, without a word.
It had been sixteen years. Sixteen fucking years since they had died. He didn't need to reminisce, he didn't need to mourn. He was over it. He had been over it since the day that Peter had been caught, almost two years ago. He didn't have to keep a constant vigil. His life didn't revolve around his dead parents, no matter what people tried to tell him.
Harry picked up a pillow and threw it as hard as he could at the wall. It landed with a soft thud and floated to the floor. He should be happy. Somehow, they'd managed to do the impossible, bring two people back from the dead. He'd rather have two people he'd actually cared about come back from the dead though. The two people he absolutely didn't want to have in his life were sitting in Remus' living room and they weren't going to leave. They were going to haunt him, bring up memories of the shit he'd been through, they were going to turn his life back into what it was before they caught Peter. They were going to make his life a living hell all over again. The boy-who-lived would become the-boy-whose-parents-now-lived. He was sick of the nickname, sick of the life that had been chosen for it. Why couldn't he have been a normal boy with a normal family who loved him and didn't go off dying or being attacked on almost a yearly basis. It wasn't a life that a teenager should live. Why was he so special?
"Harry?" Harry heard Sirius' voice from behind his door, then soft knock. Sirius pushed the door open and walked in. "Harry, we thought you'd be happy. It's the latest technology, straight from the Ministry."
"Why should I be happy, Sirius?" Harry said, facing his godfather, tears starting to stream down his face. "Why should I be happy? They've ruled my life since they died. Everybody judges me on them. They left me here, alone, to be raised by the Dursleys! Why should I be happy?" Sirius looked at him in awe. Harry jumped to his feet, the tears flowing more freely. "Why the fuck should I be happy?" he screamed.
"Because they're your parents." Sirius responded. Harry shook his head, pushing the thought away from him.
"They stopped being my parents sixteen years ago when they left me here to fend for myself. They stopped being my parents when I realized that to hold onto the pain of their deaths wasn't worth the effort. It wasn't worth the time; it wasn't worth the feelings, the emotions. I'm not going to be kissed by a woman who calls herself my mother and I'm not going to be hugged by somebody who calls himself my father. I don't have any parents." Sirius looked at him with a stunned expression. Hurt slowly started to fill his eyes, then sorrow followed. "Leave me alone."
"Harry, I think you're making the wrong decision." Sirius began. Harry silenced him with a look.
"I don't give a fuck. Leave me alone. Get them away from me and leave me alone." Harry got off of his bed and walked over to the door and pulled it open. Outside it stood the tall man who Harry had once mourned as his father. "This is unbelievable. Get away from me."
"Harry," James responded, pushing his way into the room. Harry looked at him with a look of such hatred that he cringed. He pushed his way past the man and into the living room. Remus and Lily stood there, both of them staring at him.
"Harry," Lily began, she took a few steps towards him. Sirius and James appeared, blocking the hallway exit. He was trapped, no escape.
"Don't speak to me." Harry yelled. Lily and James glanced at each other, the hurt evident in their eyes. James opened his mouth to say something, but Harry interrupted him. "Don't speak to me!"
"Harry," this time it was Remus who took a step towards him. "Harry calm down. Everything is going to work out. You parents want you to move into a house with them so that they can get to know you a little better. Everything is for the best, Harry."
"What best, what part of this decision do I have? Those people who you are calling my parents left me sixteen years ago to fend for myself. I don't know them. I have no idea who they are or what they want with me, but I don't want anything to do with them. I want them to get away from me; I want them to leave me alone. I want my freedom." Harry turned back towards Lily and James, who were now standing together. "Give me back the freedom you took away from me when you died sixteen years ago."
"Harry, we died to protect you," James began. Harry looked towards the unfamiliar man who called himself his father and the unfamiliar woman who called herself his mother.
"I don't have any parents. I wish that you'd let me die sixteen years ago when Voldemort attacked me." Harry pushed his way past Sirius opened the front door to the cottage and left. The people who he'd left behind stared after him, watching Harry's tall frame grow smaller and smaller until he disappeared. However, in the distance, Harry felt truly happy for the first time in his life. He finally had his life back.