the boy that could have been

mum? dad?

"James, no!" she cried, running over to the man. Petunia took one look at her and collapsed in a dead faint. The woman scoffed and glared at her, but there was pain on her face too. Vernon was still whimpering as the strange man - James, Harry's dad! - held him up against the wall, and Dudley was hiding behind the sofa that he had been sleeping on. Harry was frozen in shock, unable to process everything that was happening. Unable to control himself, he let out a pathetic little whimper - it was much feebler than Dudley's or Vernon's, so much so that even he barely heard it, but somehow the woman did. She turned to face him, and with a jolt he realised that her eyes, her stunningly green eyes, were his eyes. This was his mother! Harry, the orphaned boy with a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead, was in a room with his parents. But how? None of it made any sense.

The woman made to rush over to him, but then she stopped herself as she saw the apprehensive look on Harry's face. He immediately felt guilty at the sadness engraved upon her face, but he couldn't help it if he was a bit wary. After all, he'd never known love.

With what looked like a great effort, she turned towards the man - her husband? - and gently took his arm.

"Not now, James. This isn't why we came. And it's not worth it."

James scowled at her, but he backed away and shoved the stick back into his pocket. He then turned to look at Harry and came over, crouching before him.

"Hey there, Harry. I know this must all be very overwhelming right now, but I'm your dad, and this is your mother. If you come with us now, we'll tell you as much as we can, but I promise you that you'll never be stuck with-" he turned and shot a glare at Vernon, "these people ever again. Okay?"

Harry didn't know what to do. At school, they were always taught never to talk to strangers, let alone to go off with them to god knows where. Yet, they weren't really strangers, were they? They were his parents! But then again, if they were his parents, where the hell had they been for the last ten years? All of those days when he was looked in a stupid little broom cupboard, with only spiders for company and, for some bizarre reason, mashed potatoes for food? Where had they been, and why had he been stuck with the Dursleys?

His thoughts must have been quite clear on his face, because the woman crouched down before him, tears gleaming in her eyes.

"I promise you that if we could have - if we'd known about any of this - we'd have come a long time ago. Please, Harry, come home with us and let us explain. Then you can either stay with us, or we can take you anywhere you want. Please, darling. We love you, we want to help you."

The tears were now falling, fast, and her emotion was clear to see. That couldn't possibly be fake. And anyway, what could be worse than the Dursleys? He nodded tentatively, and saw relief blossoming across both of their faces. A warm feeling expanded inside his chest as he saw the love in their eyes. They - his parents! His actual parents! - wanted him. 

"I can't believe you're real."