Sacrifice
Harry James Potter trudged into the Forbidden Forest on the eve of May first. This is the night that he would die.
In one hand, he carried his ever faithful holly wand; in the other, the Hallowed Stone of Resurrection. Both objects were clenched in white-knuckled fists, shivering in tandem with his trembling hands and burning a curious warmth into clammy palms. He tightened his grip on the onyx riverstone, hoping to see the ones who had loved him once upon a time. All around him, people started appearing — first his parents, then Sirius and Remus, Fred, even Snape.
"We're proud of you, baby," Lily started, after a moment of staring deeply into his eyes, so like her own. "No matter what my horrid sister says, we were always proud of you." She stepped forward to brush his hair from his forehead and lay a gentle kiss on his scar. Then, she leaned back, cupped his face, and said softly, for only his ears to ear, "I love you, darling."
Before Harry could gather himself enough to respond, she stepped away to rejoin her husband, only for him — and Sirius — to step away. James laid both his hands on Harry's shoulders, somehow able to impart warmth where he touched despite the visage of his ghostly apparition. "Hey, bud," he began, staring searchingly into Harry's eyes.
"…Hey, Dad." That one word seemed to choke Harry as it came out, and it was all he could do to keep the tears from falling. Of its own volition, the hand holding the Stone raised to grip his dad's wrist, as if to keep him from pulling away. Miraculously, his hand did not phase through, and he clutched at the warm, brown skin of his father's forearm.
James pulled Harry into a tight embrace, burying his nose in his boy's messy, Potter-inherited hair. He smelled of dirt, and magic, and life. Harry found himself leaning into his father's arms, letting his forehead thunk onto his solid shoulder even as his arms fell limp at his sides.
James, like his wife before him, pulled away only far enough to cup Harry's face in his hands. "God, Harry," he whispered, "you've grown up so much!"
Harry gave him a weak smile, "Not more than you."
James cracked his own lopsided, charming grin. "No, you'll only ever be little Prongslet, to me."
Harry couldn't help the wet giggle falling from his mouth, and James couldn't help but plant a kiss on his hair after his adorable son made such a darling sound.
"I love you, Dad," Harry whispered into the hollow of James' throat as he pressed his nose into Harry's hair again.
"I love you too, son."
"Is it my turn yet!?" Sirius whined from behind James.
"Black!" Lily called back in a warning tone.
"Right, sorry, carry on then," he chuckled nervously.
“It’s fine, Padfoot. Get your ars-dorable butt over here!” James let out his own nervous chuckle, feeling Lily's, Remus', and even Snape's disapproval burning a hole in the back of his head, even with his back to them.
“Nice save, Prongs. Now let me at the pup!”
James quickly backed away, and no sooner had his hands left Harry was Sirius barrelling into him, scooping him in a big bear hug. “Harry!”
“Sirius!”
“Prongslet!”
“Padfoot!”
“Pup!”
“Snuffles!”
“Hey now, that ain’t cool, kid.” Sirius released one arm from around Harry to bury it in his hair and ruffle the bird’s nest.
“Neither is ‘pup,’” Harry shot back, raising his own now-free arm to bury it in Sirius’ veritable bird’s nest and tug lightly for each pass through his hair that Sirius’ hand ventured.
In moments, Sirius stayed his violent assault in favor of carding his fingers through curls and knots, deceptively gentle despite his earlier ministrations, and Harry allowed his hand to relax their grip on Sirius' mane, sliding down to find purchase on the nape of his neck as Harry leaned into the affection, going near-limp into Sirius' left arm still curled around his back.
"You didn't come when I called," Harry whispered into the space where Sirius' shoulder met his neck.
"I know, Pup," he answered, whispering just as softly.
"You left me."
"I know, Pup."
"We were going to be a family."
"We are," Sirius said, guiding Harry's face back with light, but firm tugs on his hair. "You have to know, Harry, we are family. You are my son. You have to know," his words seemed desperate, almost, in their insistence, and heart-broken.
Harry, moved by his conviction, could only nod.
"As long as you know." Sirius began petting Harry's hair again, allowing him to once more brace his forehead against his shoulder.
"Yeah, Pads. I know."
"I love you, Kid. You're my world."
"I love you too." With a final soothing pass, Sirius completely relinquished Harry from his embrace and stepped away. He retook his place between James and Remus, whom Harry couldn't bring himself with eyes to meet.