Harry always loved singing. As far as he can remember, he always sang. Mostly just above a whisper, never louder.
In the garden watering the flowers or weeding the grass, in the kitchen during the never-ending breakfast he was forced to make for his greedy uncle and cousin. Or in the stifling darkness of his cupboard in the middle of the night after another sleepless night. Singing was the only thing that would provide him comfort in his loneliest moment and it was, without exception, the exact same melody that he strangely never heard anywhere before. Carved in his head, it never left him. No matter how many times his aunt shushed him or spanked him with a towel to stop him.
Petunia never liked it. Not because she couldn't tolerate a sound coming for him or because the sound he was making was potentially horrible to any person with functionable ears. No. She hated it because, somehow, her sister’s child knew the song her and Lily created when they were children. It was another constant reminder of what she had lost and she hated it. As much as Harry looks like his father, he is, at heart and in his eyes, his mother.
The mystery behind how he can know this song is simple. As simple as he can remember her last words to him and her death. Lily used to sing it to him while pregnant and every night to put him to sleep, in an innocent way to make them closer to Petunia and to try to give another meaning to the song, other than the tragic end their sister-relationship took. To erase the hurtful words and jealous looks that poisoned the smiles and the laughs. Lily’s lullaby is forever etched in the deepest part of his memory. Ringing softly, echoing in every part of his mind. Incapable of ignoring it, he sings. Similar to a caged bird, the only thing that is left for him to do is sing.
Hermione always loved singing. At first, it was just humming during homeworks or reading. Then it became singing, when she couldn’t keep her emotions tangled up inside her anymore. She always liked it but never found herself particularly talented. Her mom did put her in a choir, seeing her interest in it and in a vain attempt to socialize. She liked it, even if all the children were ignoring her. She loved being part of something and being able to contribute to it. However, the feeling at the back of her head of all the other children’s looks and whispers were becoming more and more unbearable. The sensation incessantly chased her home. She quitted the choir after 2 months. Never sung in front of anybody again, including her parents.
So when Hermione heard Harry sing for the first time, this beautiful and clear voice echoing in the air around them, she just listened. No matter the place or the moment, Harry could sing to soothe his nerves or others and she would listen. Always.
Until one day. She felt her throat gradually loosen up. It was like she could finally breathe and take a big deep breath after staying in apnea for too long. She opened her mouth and sang with him this melody, stuck with him all the time and forever. And as easily and as simple as her voice came back, she harmonized with him. Feeling liberated. No more cage to trap the bird in, she can fly and sing again. Never before had she experienced that kind of feeling. The smile on their faces, at that moment, was unforgettable. They never refrain from doing it again. Hand in hand, they fit perfectly with each other. Singing it again and again whenever they felt like it, creating and imagining the rest of the song, completing it during moments of complicity just like Petunia and Lily had done before them to give birth to it. A sibling tradition.
Ron never liked singing. Mostly because it didn’t interest him much. His voice does not fit for it. He tried, during his childhood, with his brothers and sister but he would rather much go play chess or quidditch. So when Harry and Hermione started to do it, he wanted to be a part of it. Not wanting to be left out and forgotten. He really tried. They all conclude that it just wasn’t meant for him, singing is not his strongest quality, if it’s a quality at all for him.
Hermione had the brilliant idea to think of an instrument. They went in search of the perfect instrument to add to the song-soon-to-be. Ron could not play piano for the love of Merlin, the violin was too delicate for his large fingers, the cello was too depressing for the already melancholic melody and he would rather die than to play a wind instrument “nothing touches my lips, i refuse !”. The only instrument remaining or rather fitting the song’s vibes was the guitar. They weren’t convinced at first but he picked it up quite quickly and enjoyed it far more than he thought he would. He finally found something he was good at. He proudly showed it to everyone in the school and bragged it to his family. Proving them that he was capable, to remind them that he was his own person and not a less talented version of his older brothers. He is talented and that thought filled him with hope and euphoria. No cage around him anymore, he could decide whether to fly or sing.
When the last drop of ink was placed on the music sheet, the rain had just stopped at Hogwart. The sun was having difficulties piercing the thick clouds but faint rays of light were succeeding through. The last notes played by the guitar were still resonating in the Room of Requirement as they were holding their breaths, not quite believing that they were done. It was finished. Excitation and anticipation coursing in their veins, the golden trio was out of the Room, bursting open the doors on their way to the lake. The music sheet safely tucked in Hermione’s bag along with the reason for their idea, guitar in Ron’s steady hand, Harry’s wand ready to dry the grass and protect them from any remaining rain, nothing could stop them from doing what they prepared. In front of the lake, they would perform it. In memory of Lily.
Hermione delicately took out the precious picture and held it out to Harry. Remus had sent it a couple of weeks back, in a letter explaining the context of the picture and why he felt the need for Harry to have it. It was a picture of his parents, laughing, posing in front of the camera by the lake. Eyes overflowing with love, their body language screaming affection for the other as they can’t keep their hands off of eachother and always have a tender gesture in one way or another. In the background, a bit farther, Remus and Sirius are walking toward the two lovers, smiling just as brightly to see the couple.
When Harry laid his eyes on the moving picture, he shredded a couple of tears, mixed with joy, love and grief. Longing for something he never had and wished he could’ve had with Sirius if he hadn’t been wrongfully sent to Azkaban. His two friends were, then, determined to help their best friend cope with the loss of too many people. Accompanying him in his desire to pay tribute to his mother.
Here they are, sitting next to each other, facing the lake, singing the song that they learned to associate with Lily, without knowing it was hers first. Eyes closed, totally relaxed, they’re letting their magic flow through them, enveloping them in a sort of a trance. The air full of their melody, heavy with magic and emotions, they sing and play. Their heart beating with the rhythm, in unison. The repeated beating of their heart creates and moves the vibration of the music in the air, hypnotising them even further. They cry and laugh and think about her short life, her infinite love for her husband and her son and her fierce intelligence. Most of all, what her life could’ve been if she could’ve raised Harry and grown old alongside James. The golden trio, closer than ever, hug themselves until they can’t breathe, promising silently, to not break the heavy silence still full of their emotions after the song, to always stay together, forever. An unbreakable promise made with an undying love.
Lily always loved singing. “It brings people together” she would say. Just like it brought, for a time, her sister and her together. Just like it brought her close to Harry at his birth and after her death. Just like it kept the trio going through everything they’ve had to live. Because of one song. One melody. One voice. The power of the thought of hoping to destroy the cage of all the birds in the world with a single song. A hymn of freedom for everyone.
Lily always loved singing.