A/N: Thanks to The Grapes of Wrath for the very last line.
Unscripted, III
Avada Kedavra
Harry's parents are so, so beautiful – but so, so inaccessible. Dig up the graves, and there's the bodies – but the souls aren't there, you know. And glass is real; glass doesn't lie. Harry, he knows this. He knows that he'll never forget (eriseddesirecomebackineedyouiwantyoucomeback), and the blood's boiling in his veins, 'cause he wants to soso badly.
And James and Lily, they taunt him. Or what's left of them do, anyway. Because those aren't souls, after all – they're shadows. Not real, Harry. Not real.
He wonders if, he were to cast Avada Kedavra on the mirror, it would kill the memories.
(and there's the end)