Chapter Seven: First Ghost

He froze, another voice was coming from the corner of his room that Draco had disappeared from earlier, but this time it was female and tearful. A voice he heard whenever Dementors approached him and on only two occasions of his life. The night Cedric died and the night he died. He turned slowly; almost afraid she wouldn't be there. But she was, red hair glinting, and green eyes, so much like his own, sparkling with unshed tears in the dim light. His mother.

"Mum?"

She smiled and nodded, the tears escaping. "It's so wonderful to see you." She swept him into a hug.

Harry breathed in deeply, reveling in this new sensation. Wow, so this was how it felt. The unconditional love of a mother. Then his bitter side kicked in. Just one more thing he'd been denied. One more thing he hadn't been allowed to experience. He stepped away from her. Wait a minute, if she was a ghost then-

"Uh…this may sound rude, but how are you solid?"

"No worries I'm still dead." She gave him a wide grin. "The solidity is just for the hour unfortunately. Now come dearie, we don't have much time to chat and reminisce I'm afraid. Take my hand."

"Do I have to?"

"Yup."

Without waiting for his reply she grabbed his hand, taking him by surprise. He felt a sharp tug behind his naval, and away they went.

When Harry opened his eyes he found himself in a small two-story house. The atmosphere was warm and inviting, the furniture simple. It didn't take him long to figure out where they were.

"Lily he's here! Take Harry and run!"

"But what about you?"

"I'll hold him off as long as I can, now go!"

Harry watched as the memory of his mother turned away from his father, a small child in her arms, and raced up the stairs. A spell blast the door apart. A cloaked figure entered the room, wand raised, and the duel began. Harry looked at his mother standing beside him. "Why are you showing me this? I already know what happened. I hear it every time a Dementor comes near me."

"You've forgotten."

"No I haven't."

She sighed in frustration and elaborated, "You know the events but have forgotten the message."

"What message?"

"Just watch."

Harry turned back just in time to see to see his father hit by a bright green spell. The killing curse. The cloaked figure stepped over the body and made his way up the stairs. His demeanor was cocky. He was taking his time, in no hurry, for no one could stop him.

Harry found himself in another room, clearly a nursery. His mother's memory had her back turned to the locked and warded door, cradling his younger self in her arms. Once again, a spell demolished the weak excuse for a barrier. The cloaked figure pointed his wand at her.

"Give me the boy. I only want the boy."

"No please! Not Harry!"

"Stand aside you silly girl!"

"NO!"

"Avada Kedavra!"

She fell in a flash of green light. The scene froze.

"Why do you think I did that Harry? Why do you think your father did that?"

"Love?"

"Yes. We love you. We wanted you to live. Not just survive but live. We wanted you to have a chance."

"And I did have a chance! A chance with Severus! Now that's over and I'm just trying to get by. Why can no one accept that that's what I want?"

She smacked him, hard across the face. "Your life didn't end when he died!" She bit out.

A barrage of buried memories hit him all at once. Sirius' death, Dumbledore, Ron, the twins, Neville, Luna, Draco, Daphne, Blaise, McGonagall, Hermione, and Sev-. "STOP!" Harry screamed, the heels of his palms pressed against his temples.

"I'm sorry, but I have a point to make. They all died fighting Harry. All of them. And now look at you. Making a mockery of their sacrifice by fading away. Giving up, giving in. How dare you?"

Now Harry found himself in a large ballroom he knew all too well. His eyes went straight to the table set up on the far side of the room. Where a slightly younger, and eons happier, version of himself sat with Severus. This was his wedding reception.

"Please don't…" He whispered.