When you've been forgotten

A Childhood to Forget(1)

I don't need to bore you with the details of Voldemort's attack. Lily and James both survive and their son Alex has proclaimed the Boy who lived, and he really is the boy who lived. 

Harry truly wanted his parents to love him. He watched every day as his parents fondled over Alex's every move. Out the window of his barren room, he would watch Alex learn how to fly or garden with his mother. It honestly wasn't a jealousy Harry felt, but rather a determination, a determination to win his parent's approval. 

Harry was around four years old when the house elves told him that his parents were the Potters. How could he believe them? He hadn't ever remembered being treated like Alex. He couldn't remember one birthday celebration or one hug. He couldn't remember James ever telling him he had done good or Lilly praising his art. He simply couldn't be their child, but he simply was. He sat on his bed on his fourth birthday looking over Alex's backyard party. Children laughed and played as he sat in his room tears in his eyes. He tried to wipe them away.

"What if mommy or dada comes up?" He scolded himself " They wouldn't want a sad child." so he held it in. 

Inside he was screaming. He was sobbing, but he wouldn't be sad for mommy and daddy. He would keep a smile on his face, after all, it was his birthday. 

Suddenly food apparated into his room a sliver of birthday cake and a sandwich. It had a note from the elves. happy birthday. The first time he had heard it that day. Tears begrudgingly fell down his face as he ate the sandwich. 

"Happy Birthday to me, Happy birthday to me," He tried to choke out through constant unheard sobs. He wanted his parents to come up and hug him as they did Alex when he got a simple scrape. His insides clenched. He really wanted a hug, but the elves weren't as touchy. 

He slowly ate the piece of cake savoring each bite before falling asleep with a tear-stained face. One day mommy and daddy would come. Right? 

Harry was now five. He had finally been brave enough to venture outside of his room once the house-elves had forgotten to feed him a few nights in a row. He wandered into the kitchen only to find Lilly and James, who gave him a short glance and grabbed a roll from the pantry. They handed it to him and shooed him away. Alex came down rubbing his eyes with his knuckles and yawning. 

"Why good morning my sweet boy," Lilly said her mood suddenly changed. "How did you sleep?" 

Harry tried to keep smiling from around the corner but soon found tears falling down his face. He quickly went upstairs, but all he wanted was a hug. His vision became blurry with tears as he picked apart the roll his mom had given him. He was still hungry, but he didn't want to upset his parents while they were eating breakfast, so he just sat in his room and drew. 

He was quite the artist, but no one knew, as no one knew who he was. All his pictures reflected his feeling. Most were full of neglect. A flower sitting in a field alone as clouds come. It's stem wilting against the wind. He was a broken beat flower, but he still wouldn't give up. 

At seven, Harry watched his father teach his brother how to fly a broom. He had finally taught himself how to read longer words and sentences after drawing became repetitive. He clenched a Quidditch of the ages book, imagining the wind flowing through his jet black hair. He imagined his pail skin becoming tanned. he imagined the free feeling he would get to experience. He imagined the love he would get to experience. 

Maybe someday. 

Nine was an awfully big year. Harry had learned how to cook. He thought it might impress his parents, but he was sorely mistaken. They hardly ever noticed. He truly wished they would notice, maybe then they would love him. He was more talented and skilled then Alex ever had been, but no one seemed to notice him. Why wouldn't anyone notice him? 

Years went by and soon came to Harry's eleventh birthday. He waited for his Hogwarts letter. He knew his parents would have to spend time with him then. they would have to go shopping with him and talk to him. Maybe they would see that he was just like Alex. Maybe they would finally love him, yet he wasn't surprised when a house-elf delivered him his letter along with more than enough money to go to digon alley. 

he wasn't surprised yet it still hurt. Maybe one day it would stop hurting.