HP Snapshots

Revenge

Harry sat by the window, watching the birds fly freely in the vast sky. Albus, his younger son had asked him and his wife if Revenge was the right thing to do. Ginny had hesitated, told him it depended on the circumstances, but his son's further prodding had forced him to think.

Was it right?

The term revenge made him think about a young boy. He had grown without love, always with the feeling that he didn't belong. He wanted greater things in life, he wanted power. Immortality.

He wasn't insane since birth, no, but revenge had driven him to that route.

His revenge for his dead isolated mother. His mother, who had been left by the man whose kid she was carrying.

He killed his father, his grandparents....and took his revenge.

But...why? The thought struck Harry after years. Did he actually cared? Harry didn't knew, he would never.

But the man, Tom Marvolo Riddle, had ended up insane. Obsessed with murder. Obsessed with his thirst for being immortal.

Harry didn't knew why Albus had asked about revenge. It was a sunny afternoon, he and his family were enjoying the sun near a nearby lake when his middle one had stared into the space, and suddenly had asked about revenge.

The word also reminded Harry of himself. How he was once driven to get over with Voldemort just to take revenge for his parents. For everyone Voldemort had killed without a valid reason, for every family he had broken apart.

But...he hadn't ended up like Voldemort, had he? He didn't get obsessed with murder.

But the thought had troubled him for a long time after the war had ended.

"Harry, you are nothing like him. You chose right and he chose wrong. You have something he can never dream of having, you have love. You have people ready to die for you. You have me. You have a future worth living for." Ginny had comforted him during the long restless nights.

He didn't knew if she had been saying the truth, or if she had been just saying things. But he had accepted it. Back then.

Thinking about it now, as it resurfaced at the front of his mind, it wasn't like he wasn't anything like Tom. He was so much like him....just with a miniscule of a difference. Love. Did it really matter? He wondered.

He caught himself before he could ponder further, he was overthinking again. Distracting himself on what was important at the moment. He wanted to give his son a response. A response which won't be morally right but will be the truth. But frankly, he didn't know.

Sometimes, he even wondered how Albus, who was barely 8, thought about such stuff. His questions always were a challenge, and no matter how annoyed Harry might act, he always loved his son's curiousity. No matter what the topic was.

Harry let out a breath, running a hand through his hair and leaning back in the chair. Thinking.

Revenge wasn't a simple thing-it wasn't just right or wrong. It was a choice. And the choices made people.

He wasn't like Tom because he hadn't let revenge consume him. He had fought, yes. He had wanted justice, yes. But he hadn't let it define him.

Maybe that was the answer.

That night, when he put Albus to bed, he leaned down on the floor, looking in the eyes that were his own, just passed down onto his son.

"Remember your question about revenge from before, Al?" He asked softly.

The green eyes dulled even in the dim light, a small frown on the young boy's face. "The one mum brushed off?"

Harry smiled. "Precisely. But you know, dear, her answer wasn't completely wrong."

Albus tilted his head, looking at his father. "Do you have the answer, dad? Is revenge the right thing?"

Harry sighed a soft sigh, not quite sure how to put his thoughts into words. "I can only give my opinion."

"I am all ears."

Harry chuckled. "Who taught you that phrase? Hermione?"

"Yeah, now tell me."

Harry sighed again. "Revenge, I believe, is right only if it is selfless."

"How can it be selfless?"

Albus had a point, he knew that. "Selfless...might not be the right word, alright," Harry admitted in a quiet voice. "But I mean, when it is not only for yourself, but for others too."

"I don't understand." Albus said softly, his voice tinged with guilt as if upset he didn't understood.

"Well, let me give you an example," Harry said. "A sixteen-year-old killed his father and grandparents for revenge of his mother. She had been abandoned by his father before he was born. But she never desired a revenge. And that revenge only benefited him, but made him insane. Revenges like that....I don't think it's right. Meanwhile, there was another boy, related to the first guy. His parents had been killed by the first guy, and he took his revenge, and killed the first guy. But it wasn't only for his parents, it was for numerous people who he had killed...for fun." Harry paused. "I am talking about me and Voldemort."

Albus gasped but didn't comment. Harry rarely talked about Voldemort, and it was as if it was a taboo.

"I understand now what you are trying to say," Albus whispered, his voice low and soft, almost comforting. "But dad...Can I ask another question?"

Harry chuckled, Albus and his questions. "Go on."

"Why don't you talk about Voldemort more often?"

Albus question, once again, left Harry taken aback. But he decided to answer anyways. "I don't want to pressure your or your siblings' minds with the traumas me and your mother had to go through, but...believe me Al, the night before you go to Hogwarts, we will sit here, and I will tell you everything I know about Voldemort, and his deeds that I know about. But he is gone, alright? Don't worry about him."

Albus nodded, knowing well enough to not push Harry further. He yawned.

Harry chuckled again, "It's late. You should get some sleep, champ, or your mum will kill me for keeping you up till so late."

"Okay." Albus said with a little laugh, "Goodnight, Dad. I love you."

Harry's heart melted just a little. "I love you too, Albus." He pressed a kiss on his forehead. "I always will."

"Even if I turn bad?"

Harry froze for a second. "I have faith you won't."

Albus looked almost scared for a moment. "But I don't trust myself enough."

Harry sighed, inviting his son for a hug. "Don't press it." Harry said as the little boy hugged him. "You are still young and if you were to turn bad, I will always be here to correct your mistakes....no matter how much you hate me for it. And I will always love you. So, don't worry your little head."