slaginsecret
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About leaving home, and finding another.
'The entire situation wasn’t ideal, but he didn’t exactly have warning enough to check the forecast. Why he was running away was pressing heavily on the front of his mind. A bone-deep ache that pushed tears to his eyes, they were hot and irritating and he wanted desperately to wipe his eyes, but he didn’t have a hand and he couldn’t put the suitcase down for aforementioned reasons and-
Best stop thinking about it, else he really would cry.'
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“I am wholly and entirely passionate about being alive.”
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Here's what happened. James and Lily had died to protect their son. They had done it all for Harry, did everything they could to ensure his safety and happiness. All for Albus to dump him at Petunia's where he was neglected and abused.
Lily had seen it, sort of. The afterlife was weird like that. You could watch your living loved ones but not directly. It wasn't like turning on the telly and watching their lives. It was more of a feeling with flashes of memories. She could feel her son's pain, his confusion, his fear, his hopelessness. Every once in a while she could see him too, locked up in his little cupboard, not bothering to cry because he knew that tears would only bring more pain. She could feel his hunger, his desperation. It was eating her alive... Well... Not alive. That was the problem.
The afterlife was supposed to bring them peace, it was supposed to be their final resting place, but Lily couldn't rest, not when Harry was wasting away in some dark hole and nobody was doing anything to fix it.
She was his mother, and she was going to fix it. And if that ment dragging her husband and their new friend back through the veil to the land of the living, then so be it.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 82,755
- Chapters:
- 18/?
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- 8
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Bookmarked by slaginsecret
05 Mar 2021