"Someday I’ll know," Harry whispered to his only companion, the dust on the cupboard under the stairs.

He had been sitting at the base of the cupboard door all day long, his hunger rapidly increasing, and a burden weighed upon his shoulders. God knows how long he had been there. He had been thrust into the Dursleys’ house when he was barley one year old. His two relatives that he lived with, Vernon and Petunia Dursley had told him that his parents had died in a drunken car accident. Somehow, it just didn’t seem right to him. He didn’t know why, but it just wasn’t right. He had always been interested about his parents, but if he even remotely brought up their names, he would be sentenced to go to his cupboard at once.

He had listened to Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon today. He had listened yesterday. He had listened all the time. He listened to them dote on Dudley. He listened to them talk for hours about him.

At the very mention of Dudley, their eyes turned from dull to bright. They had always paid so much attention to him, but they were much different to Harry. He had always felt neglected at Number Four, and the Dursleys made no effort to make him feel any differently. All he ever wanted was to feel love and to be loved. He wanted to know why his parents weren’t with him, and the plain reason that ‘they were drunk and in a car accident’ just was not sufficient enough for him.

"Someday I’ll know why you aren’t here with me tonight," Harry whispered with fierce determination not to cry the way that he had the previous night. He pressed his lips together and looked to the ground, fiercely blinking back tears. His wall of determination not to cry was shattered when he felt the first of his tears roll down his face and land on his lap.
His pitiful sobs wracked his body. It was a solid, painful cry and he was sure that didn’t want to cry like that ever again. He wanted so badly to be strong, like a lion, his favorite animal, but the feeling of emptiness in the pit of his stomach forced him to concede as he continued crying.
The floorboards creaked above the cupboard, littering more sawdust onto his already messy mane of raven hair. Harry rubbed his eyes, sniffing back tears as he listened intently to the conversation above.

"Daddy, I – I had a nightmare!" stuttered a frightened Dudley.
"Duddykins! Come here darling! sympathized Aunt Petunia.

Harry stopped listening to the conversation, as it reminded him of what he didn’t, and never would have.

"Why aren’t you here?" Harry whispered to the Heavens, hoping that his parents were watching him and listening. "I- I need you…"

Harry hugged his knees into his chest and rocked back and forth in a slow, soothing motion. He didn’t belong at the Dursleys; he knew he didn’t. He could feel it flowing towards him like a harsh wind, and he didn’t like it.
They looked at him differently. When they looked at Dudley, they had a look of love and adoration, but when they looked at Harry, all they showed was hatred. Pure hatred.

He wished for nothing more than a family. He wished for someone to be there to kiss his knee when he fell, for someone to hold him when the world felt as if it was falling apart. Most of all, he just wanted someone to love him.

He desperately wanted a sanctuary, a world to get away from it all, and a place where somebody would be waiting to love him with open arms.
He continued his comforting motion, rocking back and forth, back and forth.
As he kept up the motion on the small dusty space that was his, two sets of eyes looked at him. Two eyes he couldn’t see, but two sets of eyes he had dreamed of often.

"Oh, James."

The woman who often haunted his dreams placed a hand delicately on his cheek. She knew that because she was dead, he wouldn’t feel anything, but she wished he could. She longed to hold her son. It had been eleven years since her world had turned upside down.

As the man, James Potter approached his wife, Lily, they stared with eyes full of sadness at the eleven year old boy.

"James," the woman whispered soundly before breaking down into heart wrenching sobs.
The once Marauder than enveloped her in a tight hug.

The two lovers and the little boy did not say anything for mere minutes. Finally, James said something to his wife, words that he hoped, at the very least, would comfort her.

"I know it’s hard, Lily, but one day he will know about us and our world. No one said it was going to be easy, but we will pull through and we will help him in any way possible. I love you, you know that?"

Lily looked into James’ light hazel eyes that she had loved as a teenage girl.
She then started to pound on the man’s chest rapidly before giving into a fresh wave of uncontrollable sobs.

"I know, James, but no one said it was going to be this hard…" she choked out urgently because she knew their precious time was coming to an end.

"I know, I know," he whispered soothingly into her flaming red hair. But just as silently and quickly as they had came to see their son, they were gone faster than Apparation.

The little boy soon laid his head on the hardwood floor and fell into an uncomfortable sleep.
His dreams were haunted by the images of a red haired, emerald-eyed mother, and a hazel eyed, dark haired father.

"Someday I’ll know…" he whispered soundly…

"Someday you’ll know…" they whispered from above, watching him with the ‘twinkle’ in their eyes that he had wished for.