WHO: Harry Potter and Lily Potter WHERE: Harry's apartment, then Lily's, then we'll see. WHEN: Sunday, late afternoon. WHAT: Face to face meeting of mother and son. Rating: TBD
It was snowing. It had been snowing for a few days now but the fact that it was still snowing brought a wide grin to the fourteen year olds face. Harry had learned three years ago that worse things could happen and even with the most seemingly innocent or trustworthy of things; nevertheless, he was wanting to see this snow as a good thing. He'd spent an inordinate amount of time sulking over the fact that Ron was gone and Hermione and Neville who'd barely been around were gone. Ginny was gone, and while it'd been awkward for a rather long time after he'd found out that they had children together in some future, and she was older ... she was still essentially Ginny. And he'd always gotten on well with her. She'd thrown his first birthday party. They'd tested out Quidditch equipment. They'd feared that Snape had been possessed by something when it turned out to be that he actually had a sense of humor (Harry, however, was still suspicious of potential possession). Of course he missed her. And Al. Was gone. Again. Rose was gone as well and while he hadn't gotten to know her personally, he liked her for the sheer fact that she was the daughter of two of the most important people in his young life. Not to mention her sense of humor was a combination of them both that came out in the most wicked fun way.
There was sulking. Lots and lots of sulking. Maybe something called brooding. He refused to talk or deal with anyone, rarely even checking his PDA. And simultaneously feeling a bit guilty about it. But wondering what was the point of even trying when everyone was going to leave anyway? Everyone always ended up leaving him. When he went back home, if he ever went back home, he would go back to a future where Sirius was dead. Remus was gone. Tonks who'd been there for even shorter a time than Hermione and Neville but had been nice enough, would be gone. Dumbledore gone. Even the fact Snape, who he still despised and likely always would despite what Luna insisted, would be gone and that seemed to bother him a tiny bit and that, in itself, did much to further darken his mood. There was also the fact that he would go back having gotten to know his mother --- which had just sort of made him pause. The conversation with Jim, unwillingly playing through his mind. He didn't know his mother.
Through all that had been going on since her arrival, he'd never managed to buck it up and actually find her. Which led to more thoughts that maybe it was better that way. Harry had spent days, just trying to convince himself of that. When it started snowing. Strangest of things. He didn't know why he hadn't expected it here. Maybe because the whether was always so good. It made him think of what California or something might be like. He hadn't thought of snow, since he'd-the England native, land of the drizzle-had been thinking how strange the warm weather was.
For some reason, it all brightened his mood the snow. Not right away. And not so far that he immediately knew that he would go and visit his mother; however, he worked up to it. And there he was. Knocking on her door. Hoping that she was home and hoping that she would forgive him for taking so long ... hell, hoping that she even wanted to see him.