Disclaimer: If you think they're mine, you're sadly mistaken. I borrowed them, hugged them, squeezed them, called them George, then gave them back like a good girl. All things Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling.
October 30, 1981
Harry woke up crying. He wanted his Mummy, because it was too dark in his room, despite the night light, and he didn't like being alone. Daddy might do, too, but it was his Mummy that he really wanted. He cried louder to get his Mummy.
A few minutes later, though it seemed forever to the little boy, the door opened. He raised his arms in a wordless plea to be picked up. "What's wrong, sweetie?" his mother's soft voice said as she settled him in her arms.
Harry sniffled, grabbed some of his mother's long hair, and buried his face in her shoulder. Lily walked over to the rocking chair, sat down and began to rock slowly. He relaxed, snuggling into her, his breath still hitching slightly in the aftermath of his tears.
"I bet you got lonely in this big dark room, didn't you?" Lily murmured.
Harry turned his little head and stuck his thumb in his mouth. He had his Mummy, and that was all he really cared about. He wasn't alone in the dark anymore.
Softly, Lily began to sing, lulling him back to sleep. "Sleep my child, and peace attend thee, all through the night..."
Harry fought it, not wanting his mummy to leave; she always left after he went to sleep, but he finally slipped into dreamland.
November 5, 1981
Harry woke up and started to cry. He'd spent the past few days with strangers, and he wanted his Mummy and Daddy back. He didn't understand why they no longer came when he cried. He didn't know why he no longer got hugs, kisses, and soft songs to soothe him to sleep. He wasn't sure if they were ever coming back.
Harry shivered in the small space. It was dark there, and things crawled on him. Footsteps, like thunder, sounded overhead. The door to his new space was wrenched open. "Shut up, you little freak," the thin, screechy voice hissed. "You'll wake up my precious Duddykins!"
Harry only cried harder. This wasn't who he wanted; he wanted the soft, loving voices that had been with him his entire life.
"Shut up!" the new voice said again.
When he didn't stop crying, the voice got harder. "I'll give you something to cry about, freak!" the shrill voice said.
A loud smack could be heard through the dark confines of the house. Harry cried harder, which earned him nothing more than the door being slammed shut again. He put his thumb in his mouth and let that small comfort calm him a little. He wanted his Mummy, but somehow he didn't think she would be coming back. The bad man and the green light must have taken her away.
Sniffling, Harry wrapped his other arm around himself and rocked slowly back and forth. If he thought hard enough, he could almost hear it. "Guardian angels, God will send thee, all through the night..."
Listening to the phantom sounds of his mummy singing, little Harry fell asleep. In the years to come, on particularly hard nights in the cupboard, when his tummy was empty and aching, he could almost swear he heard the lullaby again, even after he'd long forgotten the sound of his mother's voice, he could almost swear he heard the familiar lullaby.
November 10, 2003
Harry smiled as he heard the soft sound of Ginny singing to their little boy. Quietly, he opened the door, stood in the doorway, and listened as she rocked the baby to sleep.
"Soft the drowsy hours are creeping, Hill and vale in slumber sleeping, I my loving vigil keeping. All through the night..." her soft voice sang.
He frowned a little. There was something hauntingly familiar about those words. It was almost as if he'd heard them before. Harry shook his head. It was impossible; he didn't remember his mother ever singing to him, and it would've been a cold day in Hell before his Aunt ever would.
Dismissing it, he focused on his family. "Is he asleep, Gin?" he said quietly.
Ginny looked up at him and smiled. "Getting there." She sang a few more bars of the song before noticing the look on Harry’s face. She sent him a quizzical look.
"I have the strangest feeling that I've heard that song before," he admitted.
Ginny kissed the baby's forehead, then stood up to put in him the cot. Harry gently took the baby from her and laid him down, making sure that he was covered with a soft, blue blanket. "You probably have," she murmured. "It's a very old lullaby.
"Nox," he said, turning off the light. "But there isn't anyone who would have sung it to me," he protested.
Ginny laced her fingers through his as they walked out the nursery door, leaving it open a crack so they could hear the baby. She gave him a mischievous smile. "I'll teach it to you," she promised. "Then you can sing the baby to sleep."
Harry smiled. "How about I'll keep him awake because I can't carry a tune."
Ginny squeezed his hand as they walked down the hallway. "You can, too, Harry Potter."
"You're biased, Mrs. Potter," he retorted.
"Of course I am." She stopped, reached for his other hand, and put it on her stomach. "You can sing the next one to sleep."
Harry gulped. They'd talked about having a big family, but with Jimmy only two years old, he hadn't expected another child so soon. "Are you sure?" he asked.
Ginny nodded. "I saw the Healer today, and she thinks that this one is going to be a girl."
A girl. A huge smile spread over Harry's face as he leaned down to kiss his wife. Ginny laughed breathlessly as she ended the kiss. "C'mon, I'll teach you the lullaby," she said happily as she led him down the hall towards the sitting room.