Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter.
Lily Evans Potter stood in front of the window in her son's room in her home, Gordric's Hollow. She stayed there because that was what she wanted to do most of all now, just watch her son, just watch him and know that he was safe. She was thinking, just thinking and worrying and contemplating about everything in one maelstrom of utter despair. Stars twinkled like fading light against the darkness, much like the struggle against Voldemort.
A sudden cry of fright brought Lily's head swinging back towards her son's cradle. She moved silently and quickly over to him, and picked little Harry James Potter up in her arms, cooing to him softly, whispering nonsensical words that soothed the distressed child. And yet he persisted in mewing softly, like a kitten that had lost its mother.
Sighing, Lily took the child to the window ledge, where she liked most of all to sit and sing him a song. One star twinkled above, and she smiled at it, thanking it silently for the inspiration. Baby Harry lifted his tiny head up, his eyes like two emerald jewels, bright and innocent in the moonlight.
"What's wrong Harry?" Lily asked softly, running a finger along her son's chin.
Little Harry didn't answer, but instead gave a small cry of distress once more. "Dada...pafoot..." Harry whispered, frightened.
Lily sighed. Sirius hadn't been able to come for a while, what with the war and all, and James had left tonight to attend to some Order business. "Daddy's find, Harry, and so is Padfoot."
Still her son could not be soothed. Lily decided that discretion was the better part of valor today, and moved Harry until he could see the stars. "See that Harry, that's a star." Lily whispered, pointing towards Sirius, the Dog Star.
"Star." Harry whispered softly, moving one tiny finger towards the window.
Lily smiled. Harry had barely begun to speak, but he was talking as often as he could now, short, one-word sentences. "That's right Harry, it's a star." Lily Potter whispered softly to her child. "That's Sirius."
"Pafoot?" Harry asked, squinting at the sky.
"No, that's the star Sirius." Lily said softly, laughing quietly. "But you can think of it like Padfoot, Harry. It will always watch over you, just like Padfoot, and your Dad and me will always watch over you."
"Pomise?" Harry said, his words still jumbled and broken with youth.
Lily smiled. "Promise."
"My star?" Harry asked softly, reaching out towards the sky.
Lily's smile grew softer and larger. "You want a star Harry?" Lily asked softly.
Harry's tiny head nodded, his emerald eyes like green mirrors of her own, only Lily's eyes were more dimmed and careworn with war. Taking her infant son's hand, she pointed it towards the sky, until both of their fingers rested on a tiny, yet bright star that reminded Lily so much of her son's eyes.
"There's your star Harry. That's you, always bright. And that's us too Harry. Even if we aren't with you, we're still watching you from that star." Lily swallowed, remembering the Prophecy. How could something so terrible befall her child! This was her innocent sweet little baby! He should be playing with other children in the park, laughing and giggling, not hiding from a murderous monster!
"Harry," Lily began slowly, in almost a rasp as the tears threatened to flow, "If it ever gets dark, just look for this star. This is your star, and it will never go out. So if you ever need help Harry, just look for this star."
Harry looked confused, as only a child could in the face of such philosophy, but he nodded as if he understood. Lily knew he didn't, but wanted to say it nonetheless. She may never get a chance to later.
Fifteen years later, the world was back on the precipice of war, and Harry James Potter was once again giving off now not so soft sounds of distress in his dreams, and this time, there was no mother to comfort him. Finally, with a groan of frustration, he kicked off the thin bed sheets and stomped around his cramped room, until he stopped where a shaft of moonlight poured through, illuminating his feet and clothes, slightly glinting off of his battered glasses.
His nightmares were plagued endlessly by recurring visions of the worst, most terrifying moments of his life. A terrible two faced Quirrel (quite literally), the Basilisk attempting to swallow him whole, Ginny's pale near death body, Cedric's callous and cruelly careless death, Voldemort's resurrection, Sirius falling through the veil, all in one endless loop of torment.
Every time, he could find no solace in his waking life either, with the torturous guilt of Sirius' death and the Prophecy hanging like a knife above his head.
There was no peace, no comfort, no solace for this young man in dreams or life. Moving towards the window, he spotted Sirius, the Dog Star, and a hot tear filled with bitterness, regret, sorrow, and guilt sliced from his eye to his chin, before falling to the floor.
"Why did you have to die Sirius? Why did any of you have to die?" Harry whispered softly, pressing his head against the window, the cool glass soothing his burning head.
Looking up, he spotted another star, near the Dog Star. It was just as the other stars, bright and shiny, but this one held Harry's gaze for some reason, and gave him something he had not had from anything else. Solace.
Looking into that little star, Harry began to remember Dumbledore's words that those we love never truly leave us. Was that where they were, his Mum and Dad and Sirius? In the stars, watching him?
And something else came to him now. That tiny star seemed to burn bright, brighter than any other star in the night, burning into the darkness. And now Harry remembered his own defiance against the self-proclaimed Dark Lord, and the Prophecy, but from a different angle. Was this his fate? To burn in the darkness of Voldemort, to be the Light to Voldemort's shadow?
Smiling for the first time in what seemed like lifetimes, eternities, he stepped away from the window, feeling a small bit of peace in his troubled heart.
When he went back to sleep that night, no nightmares came upon him. And high in the heavens, that tiny star, the star Harry and his mother had looked at once before, and Harry had once again looked at this night, twinkled softly, a reminder that the darkness of the night cannot swallow the light of a tiny star.
AN: Thanks for reading and please review!