Disclaimer: I don't own any of it so call off the souless lawyers. There's some babies, puppies, and kittens out there they should be eating.
Five Times Harry Potter Called Someone Mum.
Sometime between flinging cereal at his Moony and blowing raspberries at the puppy-man, a toddler Harry will yank his father's hair when the man moves to settle his fussing. With baby-strength Harry will slobber all over identical black hair, before planting a sloppy kiss on his father and proclaiming him 'Mum!'
Lily will make James suffer for a long time after that.
Frightened by awful dreams, his cries will wake everyone in the strange household. But Little Harry will continue to cry for mum—for anyone really—to come and tell him the green light didn't mean 'going away'.
Sharp and cranky Petunia will finally come to settle the boy, whose eyes are nearly swollen shut by incessant crying. Blindly the child will turn to her and raise chubby hands and call her 'Mum!'
She'll flinch violently.
She'd watched many children come and go. But there were always some that came to her more than others; sweet children, mischievous hearts, curious eyes. Ignorance and fearlessness making them bold. And so they would come to her. She bound their hurts and soothed their wounds, brought a right to all the wrong's in childish hearts.
And she'd known since the beginning she would be none of that to this boy. He would come to her time and time again. Flesh and bones given to her care and eyes shielded from her sight. He'd never thought to take any of what she offered, not a hand, not a shoulder.
Still she watched. Drifted in nights of fitful dreams and smoothed back wild hair. And sometimes he would feel a presence, shift blind hands toward her and whisper, 'Mum…'
And she would murmur softly and pretend she was strong enough to hold this boy.
In the morning he would be gone.
They were laughing, chortling over something or another—no one would ever be quite sure.
Percy said they were just being silly immature boys—yes, even you Bill. Fred—or was it George—said they were teasing Charlie on having dragonlings; they also maintained Percy was being a stick in the mud again. Bill was rolling his eyes, telling the twins to leave Percy alone and Percy to relax. He was also in the opinion that it should be Ron they should all be watching—he was always awfully sweet on Hermione. So they were laughing, Ron sputtering wildly and face as red as his hair. Indignant he will turn to the only dark-haired boy and bemoan the fact that his best-friend was a traitor.
Molly would sigh, half-exasperated and half-fond, and call in her boys for supper.
Together they will laugh and say, 'yes, mum!'
If she hadn't spent more than half her life raising teenage boys Molly might have well hugged the boy right then and there for all he was worth. As it was she waited till he came inside.
It wouldn't be the first time he died or almost died. He'd always been in the habit of living interestingly.
Much to everyone's surprise Harry will live a very long life, full of things a child in a cupboard could never have dreamt about.
So a fearless boy will grow to be an adventures man. And sometimes those adventures pushed him closer to the boundary between life and death than most would ever be comfortable with. And sometimes while he drifted, too stubborn to cross to the other side he will feel a presence, one that he knew before he was born, who marked him deeper than any Dark Lord ever could.
And she will say, 'Not yet, love.'
He will smile wistfully and agree, 'One day…'
'…you'll come home.'
'See you later, mum.'