This Beautiful Mess

31st October, 1981

Harry was crying. His head hurt, stinging like anything. He wanted his mama to get up. Come on mama, please, get up. The bad man is gone, you can stop pretending. But mama didn’t get up.

Harry kept on crying.

Someone plodded up the stairs carefully.

Dada. It had to be. Please be dada.

It wasn’t. It was a tall man with lanky dark hair and a hooked nose. The man looked to Harry and then saw mama on the ground. The man wailed, letting out a long mournful cry.

“Lily.. Oh, Lily, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, please, please–” He lifted her head and saw her eyes wide open with fear, no longer seeing.

The man held her for a moment, crying silently.

Harry sobbed, bawling and crying for the man to help him, help him out of his cot and to his mama. 

There was a noise downstairs. The man stopped crying and gingerly laid Lily back down. He crawled to the window next to the cot.

Harry turned to him, looking at him with wide tearful eyes. The man looked back to him, grief and guilt ruined his face.

“Harry Potter.” the man said softly. “...you have your mothers eyes.”

Voices came from downstairs. The man whipped around back to the window. He unlatched it and jumped out.

The voices walked up the stairs. They didn’t sound like dada. Harry was going to cry again, he screwed up his face, tears and snot already running.

Someone walked through the door, wand out, sleeves rolled up. They spotted Harry in the cot and the wand hand was lowered.

“Harry.” The man had tears in his eyes, “Harry.”

Harry shouted. He knew him! That was Moony! Moony, help mama!

Harry sobbed anew. Moony walked over to his cot and lifted him out. Harry babbled and bawled, gripping Moony’s fingers and jumper. Harry was so tired. He was so scared. He rested his head against Moony’s chest and listened to the thumping sound.

A while later Moony brought Harry to Padfoot. Harry was sleepy and sore, he wanted to sleep forever. He could hear wisps of conversation, of low voices murmuring.

“How is he still alive?” Pads asked. “The spell… he should have…”

“Nevermind it. Don’t worry for now.” said a third voice, unrecognised, “Hes safe and thats what matters. Do you two have a place for him? Somewhere safe you can lie low for a while.”

“Yeah… yeah we have a flat.” Pads said. “Here, Re, give him to me.”

Harry was shifted around and he was in new arms now. Harry snuggled down, ready to take a long nap. He peeped out and saw grey eyes and dark hair. Padfoot smiled down on him, his eyes shiny and wet.

It was a long time before Harry woke up again. He dreamt of flashes of green and a high, cold laugh.

When he awoke, he was in a strange bed. It smelt different to his one. It was… plushier, full of pillows and blankets, but no bars like his cot, he was close to the ground. Harry looked around. Where was he? It was dark, the curtains in the corner were drawn, sunlight only just peeping through.

He turned around and saw someone else in another bed nearby. Harry rolled over and went back to sleep.

When he woke up, he saw a pair of big silver eyes peering at him. At first he thought; Padfoot! But he looked again, blinking sleepily. It was a little girl looking at him. She looked similar to Padfoot for they had the sameish face and the same eyes and hair. Harry babbled and held out a hand. The girl took it.

“Iris,” came Moony’s voice from the doorway, “Ah, is he awake?”

Moony walked into the room and drew the curtains. He bobbed down. Harry could finally see into the room. It was small and kind of cramped. There was a small makeshift bed in one corner, a pile of random things in another and Harry’s little nest of blankets and pillows in the other.

“This is Harry, Iris.” Moony said, stroking Harry’s head. “He’s your… new friend. Your brother.”

The girl - Iris - tried the word out on her tongue, “Brother.” She spoke clumsily.

24th December, 1981

Harry squealed in delight as he toddled around the house, giggling and stumbling, chasing after his friend. Ron babbled as they tumbled into the loungeroom together to the entertainment of the adults who stood around. Harry liked today. Today was a happy day. There were new friends and bright lights and strange smells. Best of all, he liked all the people who picked him up and fussed over him, telling him things he couldn’t yet understand. He let the soft words wash over him.

Ron and Harry were inseparable, getting into the presents and the food they weren’t meant to touch. Harry liked his new friends. There were a lot of them and some looked similar but they felt different. There was Percy with glasses who didn’t play very exciting games but still tried. There were Fred and George- no wait, George and Fred- who were very naughty and told off by their mum quite often. Then there were Charlie and Bill who considered themselves too old to play with Ron and Harry and then there was little Ginny who could do nothing but cry at the moment.

At one point in the night, everyone went silent and Moony and Pads disappeared into the next room to talk to someone. Harry knew they would come back so he dove into the yummy cake thingies that the big guy bought.

Everything was pleasant. Harry felt safe at last. He didn’t dream of green flashes and cruel voices anymore. Although he felt as if he was forgetting something- someone important. There was another life that came to mind if Harry concentrated. The same hair as him. The same face. And a woman with red hair, redder and darker than Ron’s and green eyes. The same eyes that he sometimes saw in the mirror or the window or the occasional puddle on the road.

14th February, 1982

Harry and Iris sat outside playing patty cake in the green that Padfoot made. The green was soft and tickly. Harry felt like laughing all the time, especially when his sister made funny faces to make him laugh. He tried to keep up with what Iris was saying, they were playing a game with the pebbles. Harry put one in his mouth.

“No, Harry.” Padfoot said, taking the rock out of his mouth, “That is a very bad idea.”

Harry blew a raspberry at Padfoot and Iris mocked him saying, “Dat is a derry bad idea.”

Padfoot smiled and shook his head, “I think its time for morning tea, what do you think?”

Iris nodded furiously. Harry bobbled his head.

Pads laughed at his little bobble and led them inside for a slice of honey cake. Iris stood on one of the dinner table chairs, Harry sat on top of the table. Padfoot poured them little cups of sweet tea and watched with mirth as they devoured their pieces of cake. At the smell of tea and cake, Moony wandered out of his study where he had been writing things on his paper that he wouldn’t let Harry draw on. He had told Harry he was ‘preparing material for university’. Harry had answered with ‘dah!’ which meant he agreed (although he didn’t know what he was agreeing to). After they were done with their cake, Padfoot and Moony curled up together on the couch, talking over cups of tea. Iris was buried in her book which she was determined to read all by herself. She had managed to work out the word ‘dog’ but nothing else.

Harry was put down for a nap in the armchair near the fireplace but he was restless. He wanted to do something.

He slipped out of the room, unbeknownst to the rest of his family and toddled into the kitchen. He stared at the plate of the rest of the honey cakes and squinted really hard. He wanted some cake. He wished it would come to him.

The cake trembled.

“Dah!” Harry said.

The cake rolled off the plate of its own accord and into the grabby hands of one Harry Potter.

Pleased with his prize, he walked out to enjoy it on the stairs of the back door which someone had left open. A sweet, cool breeze was blowing through. The sun had broken through the clouds. The day was cool and not yet chilly.

Harry plodded down the stairs, stopping at the bottom. He looked out into the backyard and into the forest. As he munched on his cake, he saw something move in the forest. Huh. Maybe it was another fox or rabbit. Harry got to his feet and stumbled through the uneven garden. He peered out into the trees of the forest. There was something large moving behind the undergrowth. Maybe two somethings. Harry moved closer until he was standing just beyond the shadow of the forest. In the sunlight, Harry blinked and watched.

It lept out.

A beautiful stag with horns curved and full, its coat a soft brown. It was a red deer, majestic and tall. The stag pawed the ground, snorting softly. Another creature followed, this one was a doe, its coat the same colour as the stag. They stood together and looked at Harry. The doe titled her head, lowering it to Harry.

He reached out a hand.

The doe snorted and backed up a little. The stag still stared down at him with dark brown eyes.

Harry babbled, trying to stick out his hand again. The doe looked at the stag whos ears moved around. It looked back to the doe. The doe lowered her head and bumped the stag who gave a little sound of amusement. Harry reached out his hand. The doe looked at Harry again. She lowered her head and closed her eyes, letting Harry pet the middle of her head. Harry felt a tingle from somewhere in his chest. Something about these creatures were familiar.

A voice called out from inside the house.

The stag pricked up its ears, looking to the house. The doe’s head went back up in caution. It pawed its hoof nervously.

Harry babbled as someone came out of the house.

“Harry! What are you doing, pup?” Padfoot called. He walked slowly towards Harry.

The boy took no notice. He reached out his hand again, “Ma.” he said. “Ma ma ma.” he stepped towards the deer again with his hand outstretched. Harry stepped into the shadows to meet them. The doe snorted and ducked her head down again. The top of her head met Harry’s hand and she gently pushed him backwards, into the sun, back to where Padfoot and Moony were walking up to him. Iris followed quietly behind.

“What have you found, Haz?” Moony asked softly, breathlessly. He looked in awe at the creatures. His voice sounded a little sad.

“Pongs.” Harry said clumsily. Then, more confidently, “Pongs and ma.”

The two creatures gave him one last glance. The stag made a loud sound and together, they leaped back into the darkness of the forest, out of sight and out of reach of Harry's little hands. He wished they'd come back. But they were gone. He closed his eyes, holding onto the tingly feeling he had got when he touched the doe's soft fur. He could still feel them here so maybe they weren't gone. Not entirely.