Rain Petals Dancing in Limbo
Author/Authoress: Goddessa39
Disclaimer: I only own the fic.
Pairings: Harry/
Timeline: Sometime in the summer after Ootp.
Genre: angst
Summary: He can accept that they're gone but it doesn't stop him from wishing they weren't
Notes/Changes: I am a writer of angst. I have nothing against fluff; in fact, I managed to almost finish a humor fic on the other computer which sadly, so longer works. But I can write angst the best and anytime I feel like writing.
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The summer after his fifth year was scorching hot with the bright yellow sun staring down at Privet Drive. Number four privet drive, to be exact, the sun was intolerably hot. But a boy, no, a man, was standing out side weeding the garden.
He had become fond of the garden, his thumb smaller and lighter green then one of his friends, the friend who he joined in the garden often. Underneath the burning sun, he hoped for the rain that would never come until he got back to school or a loud grey cloud rose above his head.
In his hands was a single flower of which he had planted many. It was pink like the cream of a girl's room with several petals in place. He had picked it up off of the ground which Dudley had surely stepped on and kicked out of the ground in either a fit (a tantrum) or out of sheer annoyance with anything having to do with the dark-haired boy Dudley hated out of simple ritual which he had grown up with.
Even after he buried it back with it's brother and sister flowers where it could continue to thrive and grow, the pink petals remained in his minds eye and he kept imagining a big grey cloud hovering above him, and instead of water, the cream pink petals with silky smoothe sides and a simple fragile self falling down around him and the rest of the street.
His shaggy black hair stuck up in all directions no matter what anybody tried and his piercingly emerald green eyes that stared through you were hidden by glasses. He didn't need them anymore really; he had bought magical contacts the first time he managed to walk around Diagon Alley on his own. But these were just for show so that the others wouldn't see him as he was without them, a scared boy-like man with too much loss surrounding him and the weight of a dark lord on his soldiers.
He was shorter then average, which most likely has something to do with the fact that he grew up in a cupboard alone and isolated in the dark of a family that did not include him. A few in the Order had threatened Vernon and the man was taking it seriously, though not showing it consciously.
"Boy" as he was called by the Dursleys, had refused to work or done anything they had told him to. He had gone around robotically and eaten their food, dined in the living room in front of the television he was becoming fond of lately, and pointedly ignored anything his 'family' had told him to do. The television captured his attention and he let his mind be taken away by the views of lives on the box.
Occasionally, he found shows like The Brady Bunch and he sometimes wondered what it was like to always have a family around that would accept you like that. Thoughts like that brought his mind back to the Weasleys on occasion, though he knew what it was like for them when something happened, Percy as an example. He had distanced and nearly Ostracized himself from his family for the corrupt ministry which he believed was in a good state that was in fact not.
It made him wish for his family, that maybe they never died and he never had to leave them, or maybe they would come back from the grave and take him away to the family he was cut off from the moment they died and Dumbledore left him at the Dursleys doorstep to protect. He could never really voice how that move may have protected him from the dark lord Voldemort, but never from the Dursleys.
Sometimes he even wished they would just come back in spirit form and take him to whatever afterlife there was and be done with it. No matter how hard he wished though, he knew that they were gone. He had accepted that fact.
He read a book on the afterlife, by Arthur Reduzdo once and it said that no one could move on unless everyone either accepted they were gone or there was no one there to know them anymore. He remembered how it also stated that, as long as people wished them back, dead loved ones could never move on and would instead remain in the in-between place of limbo.
Hagrid had once commented on how his mother had always loved to dance, and his father, James, had been roped into it. He had always remembered that and even gotten an answer out of Remus Lupin once. No one ever answered the questions about his parents and it grated on him more and more as time passed by.
Remus had gotten a faraway look in his eye and took ten minutes to simply tell him of the poetry his mother could make simply by moving her body and how she had gotten his father to follow her like the pied piper piped mice into a whiskey bottle. James Potter wasn't like Nymphadora in the physical ability side of things, but he could flow like the wind next to Lily Evans Potter. He liked to think of them like the petals falling down out of the rain cloud he imagined and often wondered if his parents were dancing in limbo at this very second and going between limbo and the afterlife over and over. He knew that they were gone but it never stopped him wishing they were here.
Now his godfather was dead too and he had more to wish about and hoped Sirius would find someone to dance with until he himself joined them.
With these thoughts, he couldn't help of thinking of Luna, who he had always shared a gentle fondness for, and promised himself to write something to her. When he did, he sent a creamy pink petal to her and planned to sneak out and see a movie in the nearby theater.