Harry Potter, son of the big three: The invisible boy beneath the mask

Chapter 24

Harry Potter had never known what it was like to be loved. 

He had spent hours on end, days even, wondering what the sensation may be like. He craved the feeling with a ravenous hunger, eager and yearning desperately, for someone to help, for someone to come and take him away from Privet Drives freshly cut lawns and houses, for someone to care. Sometimes when he slept, he'd dream of a lavish room, every corner occupied by some toy or book or trinket. He'd feel warm, comfortable as he stared up, watching people walk in and out, their eyes so full of happiness and love when they stared down at him.  He sometimes questioned if these dreams were simply fragments of his imagination or if they were memories, from when his parents had been alive and loved him.

But then he'd wake up. He'd wake up in his cupboard to his aunts shrill voice and his uncle's abuse and his cousins cruelty and he'd remember that this was the world he lived in. This was his reality. And here there were no plush beds and toy boxes, there were no loving parents and there was no crowd of adoring aunts. His parents were drunks who got themselves killed, his aunt hated him and the only toys he owned were the broken cast offs Dudley had thrown at him.

The hunger, the want, the need for love had never changed, no matter how many candles he drew on his imaginary birthday cake, how many lashings his uncle gave him or how many times he had been wronged by the world, he still held onto the childish fantasy that one day, in the distant future, he would be loved.

When he got to Hogwarts he had foolishly believed his fantasy was coming true. He quickly learnt the world was not kind to those it did not have time for and that no matter where he went, he would always be Harry Potter, the unlovable orphan. His childish fantasy had disappeared just as quickly as his imagination learnt the command that this was enough. This is where it all ended.

So naturally, when the Olympians came along, he was cautious. He was quick to learn and even quicker to leave. They would not love him. No one ever grew to do so.

He had spent most of his summer waiting for the other shoe to drop. He had never unpacked his suitcase, waiting for the day they'd tell him to leave and hoped they'd be merciful and let him take his things at least. But that day never came.

They rode with him to the train. They stayed with him throughout his days at Hogwarts and on the days he was stressed and the nights he was restless they helped him. He felt an odd surge of warmth enter his veins whenever he was with them and the smile on his face always seemed so reluctant to leave. They kissed his forehead and made a room for him, they protected him and comforted him. They felt rage when he felt rage and sadness when he felt the same. His laughter seemed to bring them joy and they had every facial expression he had ever done memorized and knew exactly what it meant and how he felt. They noticed. They showed him his worth and refused to believe otherwise.

Is this it? Was this love?

No. A traitorous voice spoke. The word's echoed in Harry's head as he lay on Zeus (his father's chest) trying to calm down. This was not love. Someone who loved him would not do this. Someone who loved him would not spend days and months holding this back. Someone who loved him wouldn't have waited. 

He felt another surge of anger go through him, the fury bubbling in his throat, intermixing with his grief and pain, forming a lump in his throat. He pushed back, desperate to get out. He felt suffocated. Sobs escaped, tears flowed down his face as he moved away. His father gazed down at him, his eyes so full of remorse and pain that for a moment Harry wanted to move back into his embrace and apologize for the pain he had caused. 

He stood his ground however. His eyes were red, his nose stuffy and his face stained with tears. He was a mess, a dirty vulnerable mess but he stood his ground.

Zeus reached out, longing and desperate as he tried to hold onto his son but Harry stumbled back. He would not be another pawn. Never again would he live his life dictated by someone else's whims and needs. Rage filled his entire being, it flowed through his body pushing and thumping against his skin demanding, asking, begging to be let out. It reached his throat, clumping and sticking till he could no longer breath and he gasped hurriedly trying and willing for the air around him to entire through his nose and mouth, to fill his lungs with the cold and icy wind. His thoughts swam, the emotions he felt intermixing and running wild till the world around him span and he could no longer think or see straight. 

How could this have happened? How could he have been so stupid? How could he have let it come to this?

A hand touched his shoulder, the fingers long and the palm rough and the skin hardened. The hand curled around his shoulder, the touch turning into a grip and the grip turning into a tug. He felt his face press into his father's chest again as a kiss brushed his hair, a butterfly full of love and sorrow taking flight.

This could not be it. This couldn't be the end. He couldn't end up alone again. He wanted-needed a family. He needed them.

The very thought of being alone made a shudder run through him. Those nights spent in his cupboard, the spiders crawling towards him as he nursed his injuries, wishing and believing in his dreams, taking comfort in his memories, hoping that one day his life would be better could not be buried here. He wouldn't let them.

Droplets of water touched his hair, soaking it in misery and pain. He looked up and met his fathers red rimmed eyes, watched as tears ran down his face and wondered how such a formidable god had been reduced to this by him. The look of pain and anguish on his fathers face plunged a knife into his heart. His hands moved of their own accord, his fingers wiping the tears of his fathers face coming back wet and shaking. 

He was rewarded with a smile, a painful and small smile yet so full of love that told him that this was okay. A smile that reassured him. They would be okay. He wouldn't be alone. 

He would never be alone again.