HP : TRIUMPH

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(P).(A).(T).(R).(E).(O).(N)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

No, no, no!" Harry yelled at the cowering man. "I want the kitchen filled with muggle-appliances! Not a wood stove!"

The man squeaked and quickly nodded vicious agreement, scurrying to fix his mistake.

"Don't even think of it Kyle!" Harry yelled at one of the men attempting to transfigure something. "All your transfiguration attempts have ended in explosions! I don't want to replace another window!"

The man jumped but also quickly nodded. Harry dragged a palm down his face and sighed. At first he had tried being quiet and polite, staying out of the way of the professional construction workers and interior designers. But they had proved to be quite immature and arrogant. They knew what was best, so little children should step aside and be seen, not heard. After ten minutes of it he'd exploded. His magic had blasted them all into chairs and he'd yelled at them for a good five minutes. When he'd finished they'd been much more up to listening to him and doing their job right.

A movement caught his eye.

"Samantha! I said no pink!"

.-.

Harry heard a knock at the door and quickly hurried towards it. He flicked the lock undone and opened the door to come face to face with a tall man with shaggy brown hair and blue eyes. A large trunk rested beside him in the dull light of the alley.

"I'm here to do a painting job." The man said.

"Ah. You'd be Mr. Hurst then?"

"Yes."

"Come in." Harry smiled.

Once inside he showed the man the layout of the store and showed him what he wanted. He could have had the workers earlier paint the store, but he hadn't wanted just plain colored walls.

"I had a rough sketch of the main room walls here." Harry said grabbing some papers from a crate that made a make shift table. "I also had some bathroom sketches. Have you ever read Alice in Wonderland?"

"The muggle book?"

"Yes."

"I have."

"Then you'll get my theme."

Harry slid him the sheets with the sketches and the man looked them over.

"I can do this." He shrugged. "Magical paintings on the magical side?"

"Yes please."

.-.

Harry huffed as he set the last chair in place. The workers, all besides the painter, had left and the place was blessedly silent. True to Griphook's words they had brought catalogues with them earlier. Harry had looked through them, picked everything he'd wanted, and then sent Hedwig off with the order. Five hours later everything had been delivered. Magical service was much faster in areas then Muggles ones. They were also more specific in certain areas. Harry had picked tables he liked, asked for a few changes, and with a few spells had them, as where muggles would have had to remake the whole set of tables.

He looked about the muggle side of his store. Within a single day it was finished. How he loved magic. The walls were all like a forest scene with green and brown trees and only about an inch at the top of blue sky. But the forest wasn't normal, no. There was a painted sign that said 'Here', 'There', and 'Somewhere'. A purple and pink striped cat grinned from a branch. A white rabbit rushed through the trees, down a forest path. A small break in the trees on one wall showed the mad tea party. Near the hall to the bathroom was a scene of playing cards trying to paint the roses on a bush red. In another spot two chess piece queens, one white one red, were having tea and talking.

The tables, all black and metal, looked like old Victorian style. Tall back chairs sat behind them, more arm chairs then actual chairs. They were all cushioned and all various bright colors from green to yellow to red. They looked almost a cross between Victorian and cartoon. Brand new lights hung from the ceiling lighting up the store beautifully. On the left side of the store was a set up counters and a till. Instead of just wooden counters though, there were fridge like glass display cases that were ready for delicious treats. An old fashioned till sat on a black toped counter. A large sign sat behind the counter and till, mounted on the wall. Harry would fill it with menus and prices.

The open doorways to the kitchen now had deep red saloon doors that opened both ways. The hall leading to the bathrooms had no paintings on it, but was instead a shade of beautiful red. The bathroom doors were each a soft green. On the girls one was a picture of Alice looking curious while on the men's one was a picture of a laughing mad Hatter. The words 'Women's' and 'Men's' were painted in loopy letters under the pictures. The bathrooms themselves were a mixture of smoky greys, reds, and blacks making a comfortable warm atmosphere.

Against the far wall in the center was a small raised platform, only about a foot high. On it sat a beautiful black baby grand piano. Harry had added it after some consideration. Harry had also added a set of bells that tinkled beautiful above the door to warn him of customers.

The magical side was almost exactly the same, but as it was magical there were differences. The wall paintings would move instead of being stationary. And as the room was bigger almost every character of both Wonderland books were on the walls. The 'second floor' was more of a balcony and had had tables and chairs added to it. Black metal railings had been added to the balcony floor and the metal was twisted into the shape of metal flowers and plants. Harry had also had some hanging plants added, hanging from the balcony railings. Large leafy plants hung down adding to the scene.

The matching piano on this side of the store was also more magical and was charmed to play music by itself. It would stop if someone sat on the piano bench or if Harry stopped it.

The kitchen was completely filled with everything it would need, all in the muggle style. Counters and appliances lined the wall while a large island sat in the middle. It was well lit and well heated. The newest pans and pots and such filled every cupboard along with every baking ingredient needed. It was a cooks dream kitchen.

The staff room above the muggle side of the café had been painted a comfortable mixture of reds and blue and held a couch, a table and chairs, a fridge, a few shelves, a couple open lockers, and a stocked bathroom. There was also a corner used up for storage.

Everything was perfect. Mr. Hurst was finishing his painting of the balcony floor. Magic was ever so helpful in speeding the process up.

.-.

Harry yawned softly and sipped at his hot chocolate. His day had been very well spent. His three cats curled up beside him, Alice flopping over his lap. Keiruim sat on the back of his couch with Hedwig cuddled up next to him. Both had been quite happy to see Harry. Keiruim had even had a package for him from Sirius. It was just a letter laughing at him for falling for his 'trick' and 'congratulating' him on his new position as Head of Black family. He'd also told Harry that both he and Remus were well and loved his pies.

Harry stared out his window at the sky lit with pinks and purples and blues.

Griphook was Harry's godsend. He'd helped with everything, organized everybody's pay, paid for everything, and even 'counselled' Harry. Without the goblin Harry would still be struggling to buy a house most likely and trying to learn how to pay bills. He wouldn't have a licence and wouldn't know half the things he did now. He would still be reliant on what he had learned at school, he wouldn't have had a chance to see Japan, or entered a cooking contest. He would never have met the Henderson's or Dorothy and Randal.

Harry smiled just slightly. He'd have to thank the goblin someday. Truly and utterly thank him.

.-.

July 26th

Tuesday

.-.

Harry looked over the sheets and twitched. He had one person apply for the job. One.

He sighed and palmed his face. The main focus of his café would be cakes and desserts. But he'd also wanted to add lunch foods like soup, sandwiches, and salads. He'd add a few other things perhaps if business demanded it, but he wanted to be more of a tea and cake shop. But he would never be able to run two store fronts by himself. He'd opted to hire a few waiters and an extra cook. He had started looking for a cook first. Only one person applied. Only one bloody person applied that even knew how to cook. Oh there were five other applicants. But none had ever cooked before! Idiots, applying for a cooking job and never having cooked before.

He sighed again and looked down at the one applicant sheet. Griphook had taken care of sending ads out at Diagon and the magical stores in London the day Harry had come to talk with him about the idea of a cafe. The final choice on who to hire fell to Harry though. He looked at the one applicant. It had only been a week.

The one applicant looked okay though. The small moving picture showed a tall man with brown hair that fell to his shoulders, perfectly straight, yawning every few seconds. The man had light brown eyes and looked almost bored or lazy. His resume said he had taken muggle food safe courses, attended muggle college cooking classes, and had already worked in more then a few restaurants. Which he had been fired from for laziness. His application also said he was a pureblood, but Harry didn't care one little bit. He'd read over that word without even contemplating it.

Harry finally nodded to himself and started to write out an acceptance letter. He needed a cook and this one would have to do.

.-.

Harry twirled the quill in his fingers. The letter he'd taken an hour to write, out of uncertainty and hesitation, was finished. All he had to do was write the recipients name and send it off. He stared at the letter softly in contemplation. Finally he dipped his quill in the ink and in his neatest scrawl wrote 'Harold Van Den'.

He set the quill down and blew on the ink until it dried. Then he gave a sharp whistle. A few moments later Keiruim ducked in his bedroom window, trilling his question. Harry held the letter up.

"Can you please deliver this to Harold Van Den?" He asked softly, seriously. "I have no idea where he lives though."

The bird seemed to frown then trilled and grabbed the letter. He flapped back to the windowsill, cuddled to Hedwig, then took off. Harry wondered how long it would take for a reply to reach him.

.-.

Harry focused on the hoop across from him. He closed his eyes after a moment and focused on being in that hoop. There was a loud noise and Harry felt he was being forced through a tube. He stumbled a bit as he opened his eyes. He was inside the hoop, ten feet from where he had started.

"Excellent." A goblin off to the side said, writing something down. "And without a wand after only your fifth try. And no splinching as of yet."

"So I can get my Apparation licence?"

"Yes. I'll send the papers to the ministry now." The goblin said hopping up.

Harry had went to Griphook about the apparation test to see if he could get it now that he was an 'adult'. He could. Griphook had even made it easier for him by letting him use on of the apparation training rooms. The goblins made sure all their warders and curse breakers could apparate excellently before sending them out. As a precaution. They were even allowed to give licences to those they thought could use them. So once they sent the paperwork to the ministry Harry would be able to apparate legally.

"Can I practice some more?" He asked the goblin as he headed for the door.

"Go ahead. I won't be around if you splinch yourself though."

Harry shrugged. In his last ten tries he hadn't even come close to splinching himself. He wanted to try and get the noise of the crack apparation made quieter. And what better way then practice?

.-.

Harry walked down Diagon, doing his best to stay unnoticed. He'd made sure to pull his long hair into a braid and brush his bangs over his scar. And his new silver wire frame glasses, black slacks, and white button down shirt he looked like a new person.

He paused as he reached a mostly empty corner and looked to the sun. By its position it suggested it was just over four o'clock. He'd turned in an acceptance for an application, sent his letter to Harold, and gotten an apparation licence. A fulfilling day if he did say so himself and said day was not even over yet.

Harry smoothed his shirt as he reached his destination, a small restaurant out of the way, tucked between two large buildings. He entered and found that most of the tables were filled. A waitress smiled politely at him as she appeared.

"We have no available seats at the moment. If you wish I could put you on the waiting list."

"I'm supposed to be meeting a Mr. Bishop."

She got an odd look but quickly nodded and led him off to a booth against one of the walls. Harry found himself looking at an average height man who looked to be early fifties. He had short dark brown hair that was still fairly rich and was combed neatly. His skin was a soft peach and only a few wrinkles were visible. A pair of oval glasses sat on his nose and he had a naturally kind look about him. He stood as he saw Harry and held out a hand.

"Mr. Black, I'm Leonard Bishop."

Harry shook his hand firmly and slid into the seat across from him. The waitress quickly took his drink order and handed him a menu.

"Mr. Bishop." Harry said politely, offering a slight smile. "I have heard you saw my ad for a server at my new café. You wish for the position?"

"Yes. I formerly worked at a restaurant in France for about nine years but left after it closed down. I found myself here and came in contact with the information that you were seeking a waiter."

Harry nodded and folded his hands politely.

"Tell me Mr. Bishop, are you a pureblood?"

The man gave a rueful smile and shook his head.

"I am what you would call a half-breed. My father was a wizard and my mother was a siren."

Harry blinked in surprise at this information and took a quick look at his eyes. They burned silver. Silver eyes were a sign of strong siren blood in someone. Males though, never got the voice of a siren that could control people if strong enough. It was one of those things that made the males more 'human'. Sirens were classified as Magical Beasts, not Creatures as the females could not control their voices and thus weren't considered 'human' or 'creature'. Veela had barely made the 'Magical Creature' list as their control was just barely enough. Magical Beast were legally allowed to be owned. Which meant Sirens were legally be allowed to be owned. Harry wondered if the man in front of him had ever had to watch his mother be paraded around as a pet.

"So you have skills as a waiter. Now, I have to ask this, are you in anyway intolerant to any species?" Harry asked seriously.

The man blinked but then shook his head.

"I'm half siren, it'd be a bit hypocritical to hate other magical beings or normal people, though the siren blood in me is a bit uncomfortable around banshees for some reason. I can tolerate it though."

"Good." Harry nodded. "You're hired."

The man blinked slowly, as if confused. Harry just smiled.

"I really do need a waiter."

.-.

July 27th

Wednesday

.-.

Harry hummed to himself softly as he watered his garden plants. They were all blooming beautifully. The magical ones in his greenhouse were growing even better, pretty much taking over the place. Even his vegetable garden was bearing loads.

Harry almost yelped as Keiruim suddenly appeared, diving under his hose and sitting on the decorative bird bath near the hose.

"Keiruim." Harry hissed. "Don't do that. You scared the life out of me."

The bird gave a smug squawk.

"Amusing."

Harry spun at the voice, hand immediately going for the holster tucked at his waist with his wand. He blinked and slowly relaxed as an amused looking Harold stood on his path. The man was wearing an eighteenth century looking outfit of blacks and blues, a cane in one hand.

"I did not expect you to get my letter so soon." Harry muttered.

"I was in Scotland doing an exorcist for some old lady. She had a poltergeist in her basement."

"Oh." Harry blinked.

Harry moved to the house to turn off the hose, dodging the wet mud left behind from his watering. He wiped his dirty hands on his weeding apron and headed for the door.

"Come in, I'll make some tea."

Harold followed him in the house and Harry ditched his dirt apron in a basket near the door. Then he headed for the sink waving Harold to the table. Within a minute his hands were washed and there was tea in front of them both at the table. For a moment Harry busied himself stirring his tea and sipping at it.

"You said, at the tournament, that you had a job for me?" Harold asked, breaking the silence.

"Yes. I wished you to summon up two spirits for me to talk too."

"Ah. A usual request." Harold nodded. "The only problem is I need something tied to them for this to work."

Harry paused.

"Would blood work?"

Harold glanced at him sharply.

"Theirs?"

"Their sons."

Harold eyed him with something akin to sympathy.

"Yes. That would work. But I will only be able to hold two spirits here for an hour."

Harry just gave an odd smile.

"When can you do it?"

"Anytime. Right now if you want. I will need half an hour to set the ritual up though." Harold said.

"Tonight." Harry said.

"Here?"

"Can you do it here?"

"Yes. I just need an open space."

"I'll show you the third floor."

.-.

Harry idly twirled his quill as he tried to think up some fairly normal letters to send to his friends. Harold had left to get some things for his ritual which they had decided to do later tonight. Harry was left a bundle of nerves, waiting for the sun to dip down in the sky.

After a few minutes he had something scribbled out and set the letter aside for later. He wanted Hedwig to be there when he met the spirits of his parents. Then he stood. He headed from his room to the space he could apparate or portkey from and closed his eyes as he pictured Gringotts' Apparation room just off the side of the front tellers. With a soft crack, more of a 'pop', he was standing in the plain stone room.

He stepped out of the room through the stone arch and into front area. He walked up to a teller who just sneered and motioned him off towards a hall containing office doors. Harry had appeared so often in the last few days almost all the tellers, from every shift, were starting to recognize him. And if they didn't recognize him, they knew that Lord Potter-Black was Griphook's client. Goblins weren't polite by any means, but they were a bit 'kinder' to richer clients.

Harry followed the hall until he reached a familiar door. He knocked briefly and quickly entered when he heard a barked reply. He shut the door behind him and took a seat in the familiar chair. Griphook gave him the customary greeting; a sneer.

"How my I help you today Lord Potter-Black."

"How many times must I ask you to call me Harry?"

"Many. Now ask me what you want and leave."

"I expected a warmer welcome." Harry said faking some tears. "I thought we were friends."

"We are…associates. Goblins are not friends with Humans."

The word 'friends' was spat out like poison. Harry just nodded cheerfully at the goblin.

"Anyways, I came to arrange a payment for one Harold Van Den."

"The Necromancer from the Netherlands?" The goblin asked with a raised brow.

"Huh?"

Griphook rolled his eyes.

"He's one of only twenty Necromancers left in this world. Necromancers also have levels of power. Lowest level is exorcising ghosts. Second level is summoning Demon Beasts from the demon realms. Third is summoning spirits of the deceased. Forth is summoning Demon Creatures. Van Den is the strongest Necromancer alive. Only three others are up to level four, but do not nearly have as much control and power as Van Den. Five others are level three Necromancers, six are up to level two, and five are only level one. You can also have varying degrees of powers in each level. Some can be level two experts, but can exercise ghosts, while others are level four experts and not able to do anything else."

Harry's eyebrows climbed to his hair line as he realized he'd beaten the worlds greatest Necromancer in a duel. Admittedly his powers were probably more focused towards summoning demons and spirits, but still. He gave a slight smile and allowed Griphook determine how much his 'request' would cost, fairly.

Half an hour later Harry was leaving, not with a sack of gold or such, but with one uncut diamond from his vault that was more then worth a summoning. Harry walked from the bank, humming to himself lightly. His next stop was Madam Malkins. He entered the store with a soft smile. He found Mrs. Malkin manning the till at the front and quickly made his way to her.

"I'm here to pick up my order if it's finished." He smiled at her.

"Oh! What name is your order under?"

"Café."

"Ah. It is finished. Just this morning actually."

She dug under the counter and pulled out a neat package wrapped in brown paper. He quickly paid her and hurried from the store to the closet apparation point. He decided he would spend the rest of the day looking over the new uniforms for his café and studying as he had nothing else to do.

.-.

"Harry!"

Harry looked up to blink at Randal. The boy was stepping out of an older car that was parked in Dorothy's drive way. Randal hopped the small strip of grass dividing Harry and Dorothy's driveways and strode up the small stone path to the front porch where Harry sat on a bench.

"Randal." Harry greeted. "How are you?"

"Great. I just came by to drop off some things for grandma."

Harry smiled and stood, snapping his book shut.

"Would you like to come in for some tea?"

"Sure."

Harry led him inside where they both kicked off their shoes. Harry headed for the kitchen and Randal took his time looking around curiously. Harry turned the kettle on and grabbed some cups and tea. Then he pulled some leftover cake from the fridge and set it on a plate for at the table. When he set the tea on the table he found Randal staring at something on his couch. Harry walked up to him and looked at what he was looking at. His breath caught as he looked at the cover of the book he'd been reading yesterday. The man on the front grinned and waved at him cheekily, waving his wand at the same time, a cup changing to a mouse. Advanced Transfiguration.

"Harry." Randal said with deceptive calmness.

Harry felt a smile twitch his lips.

"Yes?"

"What is that?"

"That's a book Randal."

"Why is it waving at me?"

"Actually, I believe it's waving at me." Harry shrugged.

Randal just stared at him. Harry sighed and moved the book sitting Randal on the couch. He brought the older teen his tea.

"Do you believe in magic?"

.-.

The door opened softly, creaking in the silence. Harold stepped into the room and Harry looked up at him with a slightly sickly smile.

"Did you get everything?"

"Yes." Harold answered slowly, eyeing Randal who was openly staring at him. "Give me a while to set up."

"Of course." Harry nodded.

Harold walked past them to the stairs where he quickly headed for the attic room.

"Who was that?" Randal asked softly.

Harry had told him everything he knew about magic, Hogwarts, and the Ministry but he hadn't touched on anything private.

"That's Harold Van Den. He's doing a job for me tonight."

"Oh." Randal said turning back to his cake.

"Did you think about my offer?" Harry asked.

"Yes. I think I would like to do that." Randal grinned, eyes lighting up. "I needed to find a summer job anyways."

"Wonderful." Harry beamed.

"Oh, and I take it you won't be coming to football practice tonight?"

"I can't make it."

Randal shrugged and stuffed some cake in his mouth.

.-.

"It's ready."

Harry rose shakily, rubbing his trembling hands together. Harold watched him, concerned.

"You don't have to do this." Harold said silently. "Just because it's possible doesn't mean you have to do something."

Harry gave a weak smile.

"I want to."

"…fine."

Harry exited his room and stepped into the attic room. Curtains had been drawn across the only window and only the candles lit the room. On the cleared floor was a large circular design made up of symbols and circles of white chalk.

"What now?" Harry asked swallowing."

"I have to activate the summoning circle. It takes a lot of magic and focus. When I tell you too, you must throw some blood into the center."

"No chanting?"

"No. The runes help focus my magic instead of words. They help bind my magic and the spirits much more strongly also."

"Okay. I'm ready."

Harold nodded and stepped into the circle where he stood in a small empty square. He drew his wand and raised it, eyes closing. For a few minutes nothing seemed to happen. Then slowly Harry realized the chalk was glowing. It started out light, and slowly got brighter. The whole room lit up with warm white light. Harry noticed Harold's coat tails start to whip around and his hair fly around his face. Harry only felt a slight shift in the air. The glow slowly started to gather in the confines of the summoning circle, making a pillar of light. Harry watched closely.

"Now." The man said softly, but Harry heard.

He lifted the silver knife he'd been given earlier and drew it across his arm. He threw his arm out as the blood was drawn, splattering some in the white summoning circle. The glow flashed a bright red before becoming soft white again. Harry wrapped his cut arm in a white cloth he'd brought and tossed the knife away, still watching.

Finally Harold's eyes snapped open and the glow swirled violently before settling back in the symbols which just gave of a small glow now. Slowly small light particles seemed to gather into shapes in the circle. They started to form slowly, just a blob, then a shape, then a rough body. Slowly they gained features.

Harry watched with a baited breath. Finally the white glow looked to shatter, like a plane of glass. Left behind where two transparent figures of wispy grey. Harry felt his mouth go dry as he stared at them. They blinked, looking dazed. Harry unconsciously stepped forwards, entering the circle. He missed how the symbols flashed as he stepped over them and how Harold gave him a thoughtful look.

"I'll give you some privacy." Harold said softly as he walked down the stairs and out of sight.

"M-mom. Dad." Harry said shakily.

"Mom, dad?" The female asked confused.

They shook their heads as if shaking away a dream and looked at him with startled expressions.

"H-Harry?" Lily asked softly, disbelieving.

Harry gave a weak smile.

"Hi."

"What, how?" James scrambled, confused.

"I hired a necromancer to summon you." Harry blurted out.

There was a long moment of silence.

"You look so old." Lily said quietly as she stepped towards him, ghost feet gliding over the floor.

She gently reached up and rested a hand on his cheek. He leaned into the warm touch, grasping her hand. He didn't give a second thought on why they were solid.

"I'm thirteen. Fourteen in a week."

The two shared a stunned silence.

"But that means…" James said softly.

"You died over eleven years ago?" Harry asked with a sad smile.

"…I guess times flies when you're dead." James tried to joke, but ended up choking instead.

"Oh my beautiful little boy." Lily swallowed sadly as she pulled Harry into an embrace.

Harry didn't even notice he was crying until he felt Lily wiping them away.

"Shhhh." She hummed.

He sank to his knees and soon found himself sobbing in her arms. All he'd ever wanted, all he'd ever wished for was to see his parents. And now he had them here, standing next to him and stroking his hair like he'd always wanted.

.-.

"….And now I'm opening a café. It's called 'Through the Looking Glass' and it'll be open for everyone, creature, muggle, and magic-user alike." Harry said, eyes glittering with his delight.

"I'm so proud of you." Lily laughed as she kissed his forehead.

He leaned back against her and smiled. At some point they had found themselves sitting and Harry telling them everything. Hedwig and Keiruim sat on his shoulder having been introduced to his parents. Lily thought Hedwig was adorable and James had thought Keiruim looked like a lot of fun.

"Harry."

All three looked up at Harold who had peeked up from the stairs.

"I can only hold them for another five minutes." He said softly, almost regretfully, looking strained around the edges.

Harry felt like he had been punched in the gut. He offered a weak smile.

"Thank you."

The man gave a curt nod and vanished again. Harry looked up to the faces up his remorseful parents and stood, hugging them tightly. He was crying again.

"Don't worry Harry." Lily murmured. "You're doing great in life, and you have so many wonderful people to look out for you."

"I know." Harry shuddered.

"Harry." James said resting a hand on his shoulder. "We'll both love you, no matter what you do or how you live."

"I know." Harry said again, the words catching in his throat, coming out as barely a whisper.

"Harry." James said again.

Harry looked into his eyes and was struck by how guilty and sad they were.

"When I was alive, in school, I wasn't the nicest."

Harry blinked in shock. All he'd ever heard was how brave, how fun his father was. Everyone had always told him his father was a gallant hero who did good. The only person who had ever said otherwise was Snape…

"I was actually quite arrogant and I was a bully."

Harry winced and looked down, already guessing who his main target had been. James tilted his chin to face him again.

"I was like Dudley."

Harry swallowed. His dad had always been his hero, the person he wanted to be like. But Harry also hated bullies with a passion.

"I made many mistakes. I wish I was alive so I could make them up for many people. But I'm not alive. And I won't ask you to go ask for forgiveness for me. What I want is for you to not be like me. I want you to be kind, and strong, and considerate. I want you to be honest and modest. But most of all I want you to be happy."

Harry brushed a tear away and nodded determinedly.

"We love you so much Harry." Lily said kissing his cheek.

He noticed she was crying. But so was he.

"Can you do something for us Harry?" Lily asked.

He nodded vigorously.

"Tell Severus I forgive him." Lily smiled softly.

"And tell Snape I'm sorry." James swallowed. "And tell Mooney and Padfoot to keep having fun."

"And be happy." Lily said. "Even if you have to run away. Be happy even if you have to leave everything behind because they're being too cruel or demanding. This isn't your war with Voldemort. We fought, but that doesn't mean you have to. We died so you would live freely, not fight half finished battles. Just be happy, for us. And remember, we'll always love you. You could join Voldemort and we'll still love you. You'll always be our precious, beautiful little boy. You make us proud."

Both of them hugged him. They had barely wrapped their arms around him when suddenly they shattered, like glass figurines. Wisps of grey floated away and vanished and the circle's glow vanished and Harry was alone again. He stood for a moment, barely breathing. A hand rested on his shoulder and he looked up at Harold. The man gave him a comforting smile. Harry stared. Then he fell back in a dead faint, exhausted.

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(P).(A).(T).(R).(E).(O).(N)

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