Dawn Was Breaking

Beneath the lush cedar branches, the young wizard—now grown taller, though his face still retained some youthful innocence—sat down. Mist and sweat dampened his hair, leaving it messy and stuck to his forehead. Sitting before his mother, he softly recounted the experiences of the past few years.

Uncle Vernon's scoldings, his cousin Dudley's bullying, Aunt Marge's harassment, the vicious dog he had spent an entire afternoon hiding from beneath a tree... the childhood years he had spent dependent on others at the Dursley house.

Harry did his best to sound indifferent, trying to recount those events with humor and wit. But his mother's quiet, gentle gaze was like an undercurrent, stirring up the images buried at the bottom of his lake of memories, dragging mud and sand along with them.

Whether it was Dumbledore, Sirius Black, Mr. Weasley, or Mrs. Weasley, Harry had always acted strong in front of those who cared about him. Only now, sitting before his mother, was he simply a child who had been wronged.

Harry's deliberately casual jokes kept catching in his throat, making him stumble over his words. Only then did he realize that the things he had once believed he had let go of still made him feel hurt whenever he thought back on them.

Something hot and wet covered his cheeks. Harry touched his face and found it covered in tears.

Lily's eyes were full of heartache. She reached out, wanting to wipe away his tears, but her slender fingers formed from moonlight could touch nothing. All she could do was repeat those childish words meant to comfort a child, hoping to bring him even the slightest bit of solace.

His mother's soft reassurances soothed Harry's heart again and again, soft and warm. He sniffed, wiped his face, and began talking about