Harry's Angel

Through all the hard times he had ever had, she'd been there.

Well, she technically hadn't 'been there' because she was imaginary, but for all intents and purposes, she was his best friend, his greatest source of comfort; she was his angel.

He didn't know her name, and to this day he couldn't remember her face or her voice, in fact, he wasn't sure he'd ever seen her face or if he'd ever heard her speak. All he knew was that she made him feel safe. Late at night, when he was two and three years old, she'd appear and rub his back until he fell asleep. Alone in the dark, in the silence, he would stick his thumb in his mouth and close his eyes. In minutes, she would be there, humming softly and stroking his back. He'd fall asleep almost instantly.

She always came right before he fell asleep. After being chased around the house and pushed around by the Dudley the whole morning, Uncle Vernon would lock him in the cupboard when he came home for lunch. That was when Harry usually took a nap. He would lie down on the little mattress in there and pretend his daddy had just put him down for a nap. He would tuck his blanket under his arm and close his eyes and soon he would feel someone petting his head. As a child, his ears were especially sensitive, and as he lay there, his eyes shut tight against the light pouring in through the crack between the door and the floor, she would gently rub his earlobe and he would fall asleep.

Once, when he had a particularly nasty cold, he curled up in the very corner of the cupboard and closed his eyes. Instantly, he felt himself in her arms, her fingers tracing patterns on his small back. He could feel her chin against the top of his head as she hummed to him. This happened every time he felt sick and alone.

Even as he grew older, five, six, even seven years old, she would appear to put him to sleep. Many times, when he was cold at night, the one blanket he had would find its way over him and feel warmer than it should have on a cold December night. Sometimes, after kicking the covers off during a bad dream, the blankets would cover him up again and a cool hand would press lightly against his forehead. The humming would lull him back to sleep, and he would wake up not remembering his dreams.

When he was ten, it stopped. The night of his tenth birthday was the last time he could remember. He laid on his stomach, reaching up to turn of the light before he removed his glasses. Just before he fell asleep, he swore he heard, "Happy birthday, Harry" drift through the little space. He felt cool fingers on his ear, rubbing the most sensitive spot, and just before he drifted off, he felt her kiss his upturned cheek.

She didn't come back again.

Now, he was seventeen years old and still lonely. While his seventeen-year-old form was a far cry from his ten-year-old form, the darkness and overwhelming sense of loneliness was still the same. He had just defeated Voldemort, and while he knew he was perfectly safe and surrounded by friends and classmates, he felt so alone, so vulnerable.

"Can't sleep?"

He rolled onto his side and barely made out Ginny's form as she sat in the chair next to his bed. He moved over and took her hand, pulling her on the small cot with him. The cot wobbled a bit as she moved to adjust, but soon they were facing each other and lying absolutely still. "This is going to sound really strange," he whispered, sliding his hand down her arm and taking her hand. "But can you rub my ear?"

While it was too dark to see, he could imagine her face wrinkling in concern. "Does it hurt? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he assured her quietly, kissing her fingertips. "But it's something that used to calm me down as a little kid, and--"

She silenced him by putting a finger on his lip. "Shh, as long as you're fine." He closed his eyes as her fingers began stroking his earlobe slowly. "Like this?" she asked softly, her soft fingers feeling like heaven against his ear. He nodded and she continued rubbing his ear. "I'm so proud of you." She raised her head and kissed his upturned cheek. "Happy birthday, Harry."