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Category: Alternate Universe, Post-HBP Characters:None Genres: Tragedy Warnings: Dark Fiction, Death, Sexual Situations, Violence Story is Complete Rating: R Reviews: 1174 Summary: Harry gets one night that gives him a glimpse into what life could be like with the Dursley's. But events turn for the worse and both Harry and the wizarding world are left wondering what it's consquences mean for the future of the world. Hitcount: Story Total: 501527; Chapter Total: 10991 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: I don't own anything. JK Rowling owns the entire Potter Universe. No Copyright Infringement is intended. I just write fan fics for fun and to take up time between books. Thanks! |
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Chapter 36: Clean Slate “Can I get you two anything? There are some free beds if you need a quick lie down…” “No--we’re fine.” “Really…I’m not sure how long he’ll be down. It might be best if you try and get some--” “We’re fine. Really--” “Ron…you and Hermione should get off your feet. You’ve been gone for a few days and I’m sure you’re both a bit tired. I’ll stay with him…I’ll come get you when he wakes up.” “You sure? You’ll be ok?” “Yeah…go…we’ll be fine.” Harry could faintly hear voices around him, floating in and out of his consciousness like a badly tuned radio. He could at least tell by the tone and the sound of the voices that it had been Madam Pomfrey asking if someone wanted a lie down. And that it had been Ron who had replied a bit irritated sounding that he was fine. And it definitely was Ginny who had been the last voice, reassuring Ron that it was alright to leave for a bit. But aside from that, Harry really couldn’t tell a whole lot about what was going on around him. His whole body felt weighted down and incredibly heavy as he lay there. As his consciousness began to return to him, he could faintly feel the stiff, starchy sheets beneath him that signaled to him that he was in the hospital wing. As his other senses returned, he could smell the lingering aroma of medicinal potions and the sterile surroundings and could he could hear the settling and creaking of a chair as someone sat down nearby. But as he tried to open his eyes; he was met by an unsettling curtain of black. A fresh wave of panic and nausea assaulted his senses. He knew his eyes were open. He had felt the lids lift, but still all he could see was the horrifying blackness that had overcome him in unconsciousness. It felt as though there were something pressing down on his eyes, keeping him from seeing, keeping light just out of his reach. He needed to get the pressure off so find out for himself if his fears were correct. But as he tried to reach towards his face with his hands, he found himself quite unable to do so. It was as if his hands were pinned to the bed, held there by some invisible force, pushing his arms away from his sides and to the sheets. He tried again to lift himself, trying to use his abdomen and shoulders to sit himself up, but again was met with a strong resistance. He couldn’t even lift his head off of the stiff pillow and it felt as it was being held flat by a strong hand. He fleetingly wondered if he had somehow gotten himself paralyzed. He really didn’t know how that would have happened. All he could remember is being choked until almost all of the life had left him and then having air suddenly rush back into him, only to be then met by an excruciating burning in his eyes. Hurting his back or neck didn’t fit into any of that, but then again, he really didn’t have a real good recollection of events. He didn’t even know how long he’d been out or how long the episode involving the locket itself had taken. All he did know was that he was still blinded, unable to move, and scared out of his mind. So, not knowing if it would succeed, Harry continued to try and struggle against his unseen bonds, hoping that somehow he’d be able to break himself out of this or perhaps grab somebody’s attention and alert them that he was indeed awake and in this current state. “Harry?” croaked a quiet voice somewhere to his left, causing Harry to temporarily halt his attempts at freeing himself. He knew that voice. It was Ginny. She sounded tired and a bit hoarse, but it was her. He then felt her warm and slightly damp hand slide into his. “Squeeze my hand if you’re awake…squeeze back if you can hear me, sweetheart,” Ginny whispered into his ear. Harry obeyed and then squeezed gently back against the pressure of her small fingers in his palm. He heard a small gasp of elation escape her lips and she tightened her grip on his hand, and he mimicked her actions as if clinging to her for dear life. “Gi-,” Harry tried to rasp, but he found his mouth dry and his throat painfully tight. He licked his lips and tried to wet his mouth with whatever moisture and saliva he had available and attempted to speak again. “Ginny? Wh-wh-at--” “Just a second Harry,” Ginny interrupted. Harry could feel her move beside him and he could hear something scraping against what he supposed to be a table next to his bed. He suddenly felt something being pressed up against his dried and chapped lips. “It’s just some water,” she said quietly when he flinched slightly against the pressure. “It’s a straw…sip slowly,” she instructed as she held it in place. Harry obliged and wrapped his lips clumsily around the plastic straw. He began to sip and draw in water slowly, careful not to drink too much in case he began to choke. The water was refreshing to his palate and the rest of his mouth and it gave his dried up lips some much needed relief. When he had drank his fill, he let the plastic straw fall against his lips and he felt it being moved away, a sign that Ginny had taken the hint. “Better?” Ginny questioned as she replaced the glass on the table and then placed her hand back within Harry’s. “What’s wrong with me?” Harry croaked when he felt it possible to speak again, his voice still a bit sore from all the stress on his throat. “Why can’t I move?” he continued, wetting his still parched lips in between breaths. There was a small intake of breath on Ginny’s part and Harry knew she was hesitating in answering him. There was something she didn’t want him to know. “Ginny?” Harry inquired in a voice that held all the panic he was currently being assaulted with. “We--we had to restrain you,” Ginny answered in a small voice. Harry could feel her grip tense and she began to fidget with his fingers as if she was worried about something. “What?” Harry asked in clarification. “When we brought you in here to the hospital wing…Madam Pomfrey tried to check out your eyes,” Ginny began. “You were unconscious…but when she opened your eyes…you started to flail about and claw at your face. We didn’t want you to hurt yourself--so we had to stop you. We didn’t want to mess with spells not knowing what was happening inside you and not knowing how a binding spell might react--so we put restraints on you. You’re strapped to the bed.” She finished quietly, sounding thoroughly horrified at what they had done to him. Harry shifted a bit, trying to take in this bit of information. He could indeed, now that he had an explanation, feel what he supposed where straps of some sort of material around his wrists and his ankles. He knew that there also must be bands across his chest and head, explaining the pressure that he had felt. “What’s wrong with my eyes?” Harry asked quietly, again finding himself dwelling on the fact that he still could not see. “She tried as hard as she could but you kept fighting the restraints and you looked like you were in so much pain. And your eyes…they were…they were--blank--white like they were that day in Godric’s Hollow. Madam Pomfrey tried to figure out what was causing you pain. But she couldn’t find anything that would explain why you said your eyes burned. There was nothing there,” Ginny explained. “Am I blind?” Harry asked in a pleading voice, knowing full well that he sounded as scared as he was at the prospect. “We don’t know,” Ginny whispered sounding as though the thought pained her too. Harry could hear her stifle back her own tears. “The only way we could keep you still was to cover them up. So you’ve got a blindfold over your eyes as well.” “A blindfold?” Harry repeated. “So it might not be…It might just be the blindfold that’s keeping me from seeing?” “It could be…we just wanted to wait until you woke up,” Ginny responded. “I’m up now,” Harry replied quickly, pulling against the restraints. “I need to know,” he whispered desperately. “Let me go get Madam Pomfrey,” Ginny said and Harry felt her hand leave his. “Why can’t you do it?” Harry questioned, hoping she was still near enough to hear him. “I don’t know what’ll happen if I take it off,” Ginny’s voice cut through. “She needs to be here in case things go wrong.” And with that Harry heard her footsteps walk away and he could hear a door nearby open and close. With her gone, the paranoia and fear of the unknown seemed to intensify and be amplified again with the silence that filled the room. He was blinded, strapped to a bed, and alone and felt completely vulnerable to anything. But Harry’s heart leapt and his fears were stilled for a moment by the sound of quickly approaching footsteps. “Hey mate,” Ron’s voice sounded from his bedside. “Ginny said you were awake…she’s going to get Pomfrey...” “How are you feeling Harry?” Hermione asked softly as he Harry heard someone settle into the chair that Ginny had vacated. “Fine…” Harry breathed out as he twisted his wrists uncomfortably against the cuffs binding them. “I just want to get out of--” But he was cut off by another round of footsteps echoing off the stone floor. “Mr. Potter…how are you feeling?” Madam Pomfrey asked as she leaned over the bed. “Well, considering that I’m strapped to this bed, uncertain if I’m going to be blind for the rest of my life and having just wrestled a dark fragment of soul for my very life as it strangled me…” Harry paused, a grin playing at his lips. “…I’d say I’m--brilliant. Absolutely smashing.” “I see you’ve still got your sense of humor and uncanny knack for making light out of the tragically serious situations. We can’t have you losing that now can we?” the matron replied. From her tone of voice, Harry could tell she too was smiling a bit at his cheek and perhaps a bit relieved that her favorite patients was among the living once more. “I try,” Harry sighed as he tried to smile blindly. “How is your head feeling? Your eyes?” the matron questioned sounding again her normal concerned and stern self. “I feel fine except for a bit of a headache and my neck’s a bit sore,” Harry answered her, feeling a dull stab of pain all of a sudden near the area where the locket had been resting as he shifted the best he could with his bindings. “Can we take the blindfold off now and get me out of these things?” Harry added with a little bit more of building urgency in his voice. “Now slow down Mr. Potter…I know you’re anxious but I want to make sure to be careful--” “And I want to make sure I’m not blind,” Harry grumbled, cutting the matron off. Harry heard her tutt at his remark, but he still remained bound and blinded. “I thought perhaps before we go ahead with taking the blindfold off…maybe I should consult with--Albus--,” Madam Pomfrey said measurably. “I’m not quite sure what I’m dealing with--” “No--just--let me up and I’ll take it off myself. I’m not waiting any longer,” Harry pressed irritably at their reluctance to let him up. He strained once more at the bonds around his hands and ankles and he tried to use the strength of his prosthetic hand to break the one around that arm, but could not get himself free to no avail. “Harry–maybe we should wai–” he heard Ginny start to warn. “Maybe we shouldn’t wait and someone should just let me up,” Harry interrupted. “Release the restraints so I can sit up myself. If you’re worried that something might happen again when my eyes open–you can stun me or stop me by any means necessary if I get out of hand–you have my permission.” His request was met with a hesitant silence that told him that the others were weighing this option, wrestling with the decision internally. “Please?” Harry whispered desperately, letting his whole body go slack causing the tension against the bonds to be released, almost a sign of defeat and cooperation. “Please just let me up,” Harry pleaded quietly one last time. Suddenly Harry felt movement near him and there was a muttering of an unintelligible spell that met his ears. The pressure around his wrists and ankles, as well as the bonds pressing him to the bed across his head and mid-section, were all relieved and he suddenly found himself able to lift himself into a semi-sitting position. He felt a firm set of hands support him from behind and could feel the pillows and the bed being adjusted so that he could sit up comfortably. “How’s that?” he heard Ginny ask from his left side. “Good…fine,” he replied in what he hoped sounded like a grateful voice in her direction as he rubbed his left wrist gingerly and stretched out his sore muscles, causing several vertebrae in his neck and back to crack and pop. “Mr. Potter–I guess when you’re ready–you can remove the bandage across your eyes,” he heard Madam Pomfrey instruct. “And remember, if I suspect something is wrong…I have your permission to disable you in a manner I see necessary.” Harry only nodded in response. He was suddenly too nervous and tense to say anything. He was now free to discover whether the Horcrux that had occupied the locket had done any lasting and devastating damage to his eyesight. But yet he suddenly didn’t know if he wanted to find out the results. And once again and not for the first time in a short period of time, Harry found himself feeling scared and vulnerable. He jumped a bit as a comforting hand settled on his thigh and began to rub gently just above his knee. He stilled at Ginny’s gentle touch and found the gesture was a bit calming on his nerves. But as he brought his hands up to his face, feeling the soft cloth that was covering his eyes, his hands were trembling and his fingers fumbling against the material. He let out a deep, shaky breath as he slid his fingers underneath the cloth blindfold. As he grabbed a hold and prepared to pull it off, he couldn’t help but close his eyes tightly in anticipation. He was afraid that when he pulled it off, he would be met with another curtain of black, this time permanent. So closing his eyes to stave off the moment of dread seemed to be the only thing he could do for now. So with his eyes clenched tightly, he yanked at the cloth surrounding his head and felt the knot release at the point where it lay against the back of his head. He felt the material fall to his lap along with his still tremulous hands. And he sat there, still and suddenly frozen with fearful anticipation. “Harry…you can open your eyes now,” Ginny whispered as she continued to massage just above his knee in her most comforting manner. Harry nodded, but did not open them immediately upon Ginny’s encouragement. He had to do this...he had to find out. But the question was–could he physically bring himself to? What if he opened his eyes and his sight hadn’t returned? What would he do about going after the rest of the Horcruxes and fighting Voldemort if it turned out he was blind? What would he do at the prospect of never being able to see his friends again? What if he never got to lay eyes on Ginny again? What if he never again got to see that beautiful face of hers, or that brilliantly soft and long red hair that he loved to run his fingers through and those soulful brown eyes he always seemed to get lost in? He didn’t think he could even stand the thought of never seeing that again. The possibility was tortuous and wrenching at his heart and mind and yet it was a driving force to make him get on with this. So slowly…he cracked open his eyes. Instantly his vision was overcome by a bright, blinding and almost painful flash of light that caused him to shut his eyes tightly and cover them with his hands, bowing his head in his lap. “Dim the lights,” he heard Ginny urge the matron as she wrapped an arm around Harry’s back in support as he grimaced and reacted to the brightness of the room. Harry heard more spells being muttered and the sound of the lamps surrounding the ward being extinguished and dimmed. “Ok Harry…it should be better now,” Ginny whispered in his ear after a few moments. Harry nodded, still holding his hands to his closed eyes while massaging them to lessen the discomfort he was feeling. His eyes stung and were a bit watery from his encounter with the lights, but at least he knew he wasn’t completely blind. But to what extent his eyes might be damaged was still to be seen. And there was only one way to find out. Gulping slightly, Harry opened his eyes once again. This time he was not met by a bright light and as he blinked away the tears and the irritation in his eyes, his lap began to swim into a blurry view. He continued to sit with his head bowed towards his lap, using his left hand to wipe away the tears leaking from his eyes as they became adjusted to the dimmed and darkened room. Everything began to come into focus and he found himself able to keep his eyes open without having to blink rapidly or close his eyes against the pain and tenderness. He noticed that his vision was not any worse that it had been before as he stared at his legs that were now clad in hospital wing pajamas and the white sheets of the hospital bed. “Harry?” Ginny questioned as he continued to gather himself. “Can you see?” she added in worried confirmation as she continued to hover close to him and provide support with her touch. Harry nodded while rubbing at his eyes and face. “Can–can someone hand me my glasses?” Harry breathed as he sniffed away the moisture from his eyes that was making his sinuses open up and make his nose run a bit. “Right here,” he heard Ron say and he felt Ginny move away to reach out and take the frames from Ron. “Here you go,” Ginny whispered as his glasses were placed into his left hand. Harry inclined his head in thanks and shoved his glasses onto his face. With this action, his eyes once again stabbed painfully as they adjusted to the focusing of his eyes as the lenses did their job. After blinking in quick succession to get his eyes attuned to the sensation, Harry finally looked up and around at the others. The room around him was very dark and shadowed, but he could make out the forms of Ron, Hermione, Madam Pomfrey and Ginny gathered around his bed, looking very relieved as he raised his eyes and acknowledged their presence and the fact that he could see them all. As he focused on Ginny he could see, even through the dark room, that she was smiling broadly at him as his eyes found hers. “How’s your vision?” Madam Pomfrey asked from the right side of his bed. “Are there any trouble spots? Blurred or double vision?” “No…I see perfectly fine,” Harry replied in a breath. “Well–as fine as I did before,” he added causing Ginny to let out a snort of amusement. “Well if it’s alright with you…I’d like to–slowly–raise the level of the lights so I can get a better look at your eyes and make sure everything is really alright,” Madam Pomfrey offered. “Alright,” Harry agreed, sitting up more comfortably against the pillows and bracing himself for the lights level to be brought up in case in affected his eyes again. “I’ll do it slowly–tell me if it becomes too bright,” the matron warned and instructed as she raised her wand and the lamps that lined the walls of the ward sputtered and sparked back into life, bathing the room and everyone around in a soft light. The light began to intensify and was soon back to its full brightness. Harry only found that he had to squint a bit in order for his senses not to be overloaded with the increasing light power. After letting his pupils adjust and become comfortable with the level of light, Harry opened his eyes fully and found himself able to tolerate the way the room was. “If you remove your glasses Harry I can do a quick exam and assessment,” Madam Pomfrey added. Harry had a small urge to tell her that he was fine and he didn’t need an exam or for her to shine any bright lights in his eyes. But he knew she was just trying to be thorough and was looking out for his well being. So he relented with a sigh and removed his glasses, placing them and his hands in his lap. “Look this way and open your eyes as wide as you can,” she instructed as she moved in closer to him to get a better look. Madam Pomfrey was just about to bring a hand and her wand to Harry’s face to start her closer inspection, when she paused and her eyes creased in confusion and her draw dropped a bit as she gazed into Harry’s eyes. Harry, who had been sitting there with his eyes wide at Madam Pomfrey’s instruction, relaxed his face and took on his own look of confusion and anxiousness. “What?” he questioned the matron as she continued to gape at him, moving slightly from side to side as if she was trying to rid herself of what she was seeing. “What’s wrong?” he pressed. “You’re sure–you’re sure you can see?” the matron questioned shakily. “Yes–” Harry replied definitively and firmly. “What’s wrong?” Harry added again, this time his voice almost pleading for her to explain why she was gawking at him like that. When it seemed like the matron wasn’t going to or wasn’t able to give him an answer, he looked away from her still shocked face and found the attention of his best friends and girlfriend as they looked on in their own anxious panic. He met Ron’s eyes first. His best friend, dorm mate, and virtual brother of seven years only furrowed his brows and cocked his head in contemplation as if trying to figure out if his eyes were playing tricks on him. Harry turned to Hermione to find her giving him the same sort of deliberating gaze as if he was some far fetched theorem she was studying. “WHAT?!” Harry yelled desperately, causing everyone to jump. “What are you all staring at!?” Harry snapped. “Mate…” Ron began slowly and shakily. “Your–um–” he continued to stammer. As Ron struggled to get out an explanation, he felt Ginny’s hand brush against his face and find his chin, bringing and guiding his face and his gaze into her plane of view. As their eyes locked and Ginny found whatever the others had been captivated with, Harry’s heart felt a sudden pang and his chest became suddenly tight as he caught the sudden sadness and longing in her own eyes and that captured the features of her face. “The–er–the colored part–” he heard Ron continue in the background as he continued to lock his gaze with Ginny’s. Her fingers were now tracing his cheek and working their way up the side of his face, caressing the skin around his eyes. “The–color’s not–not–green–anymore,” Ron’s unsteady voice broke through Harry’s consciousness as he continued to search Ginny and focus on her alone. This revelation caused him to be thrown from that focus and he turned his head away to find Ron watching his reaction nervously. “Not–green?” Harry repeated in bewilderment. Ron shook his head. “What color–what color are they?” Harry blurted unevenly as he pictured himself with those same blank white eyes he’d had at Godric’s Hollow and after destroying the locket. Or even worse and more horrifying for him to imagine, an image of himself with those red eyes that haunted him and tortured him at every sleeping and waking moment popped into his mind. “They’re–grey,” Ron replied seriously. “Like all the color’s been washed from them and all that’s left is–is…well…” “A blank slate,” Ginny whispered, her hand reaching again for his face while looking into his eyes. “Slate grey,” she said quietly. Harry shook his head out of her grasp, suddenly not wanting her to look at him like she was doing and slightly disturbed at her description of his eyes. “I want a mirror,” Harry demanded firmly. Harry looked around at everyone, waiting for someone to make a move. He’d conjure one himself, but wasn’t sure where they’d stowed his wand. He was about to demand that from them, when Hermione reached for her own wand and conjured a small hand mirror and held it out for him to take. Harry grabbed at the mirror eagerly and with urgency from Hermione’s outstretched hands and held it up to his face. He found his reflection staring back at him. It was the same face, angular and squared from his recent departure from adolescence, though the skin was slightly paled and there were a few scratches on his cheeks from his skirmish with the locket. And there were those same almond shaped eyes that offset his manly features and brought some elegance to his face. But inside those almond orbs, where iris’s of a shocking burst of a certain shade of jade green, as clear and intense as a clean cut and flawless emerald, usually were, he was met by a sight that made him suddenly queasy and unsteady. The sparkling green had been replaced by a dull and lifeless shade of grey that surrounded the dark black of his pupils, which seemed abnormally large and deep as he studied his reflection closely. The change in the color of his eyes shouldn’t have really been a hugely earth shattering thing. It was just the color right? It wasn’t as if he were blind or hindered in any other important way. But as he looked into the mirror and took in his face, the startling difference in his eyes and the lack of color that he’d grown accustomed to over the years, was indeed a very big deal. He’d always been identified (when not by his scar) by having his father’s messy hair and looks and his mother’s eyes. And now that piece of his identity was gone, replaced by a generic screen of nothingness. Ginny had told him she could tell his emotions through his eyes. Even when he had tried to hide things and shield his feelings, Ginny had said that she could tell when he was upset or when he was lying…especially to her…by just watching his eyes. Now he doubted that she or anyone else would be able to tell anything from them. There was no life in them or anything distinguishing at all. They looked cold and almost stone-like, reflecting the sinking sensation he was experiencing that felt like a giant rock had settled on his chest and stomach. “Harry? Are you alright?” he heard Hermione question quietly somewhere beyond his realm of focus. Harry looked up at her inquiry, biting back his retort and instinctual response of ‘Does it look like I’m okay?’ He even was compelled to think that for being so smart, Hermione sure said some well-placed dumb things sometimes. “Yeah…” Harry rasped, struggling to get his words out as he brought his gaze back to the mirror. “I’m fine,” he breathed out heavily as he set the mirror down on his lap, abandoning the studying of his eyes. Nobody commented or made a reply to Harry’s admission, but all looked around at each other in confirmation and agreement that Harry was definitely not okay. They seemed unsure of what to say next or how to carry on, so Harry chimed in with his own thoughts. “Where’s the locket?” he asked as he looked around. “Was it destroyed?” It was Ron who nodded and he reached into the pocket of his cloak, pulling out a chain from within. He took one step closer to the bed and held it out for Harry to take. With the chain and locket firmly in his hand and possession, it was now clear that he had indeed been successful in ridding the vessel of the soul it had been harboring. The locket itself had been blasted open, revealing an empty chamber within. The two halves of the gold trinket were crushed, cracked and warped, either by Harry’s iron tight grip or by the magic itself, or perhaps as a result of both. The locket and parts of the chain holding it were also blackened, as if burned by the release of the magic within. Harry instinctively brought his hand to his chest, pulling down his collar to reveal deep bruises that were forming where the chain and locket had rested against his skin. Where the chain had sat, there was a deep “v” pattern made up of bruised tissue and raw skin where it had tightened and choked him as the magic had worked its way out of the locket. The outline of the chain came together to form a more solid mass of bruise that was almost black to the naked eye where the locket itself had laid. Harry touched and traced the marks with a finger, flinching slightly as a stab of pain radiated across his chest as a result of his touch and probe. “I tried to heal that for the most part,” Madam Pomfrey spoke up. “But that’s the best I could get the bruising for now. It seems that it was rather deep in the tissue itself.” Harry nodded and accepting the matron’s explanation. He continued to handle the destroyed locket in his hand, going over everything and trying to deal with the enormity and the entirety of what had transpired in the past few hours. Not only had he had to endure extreme and excruciating physical pain that was beyond belief when destroying the locket. But he was also dealing with its after effects. And it almost seemed that it wasn’t even the physical marks and consequences that were the big deal at the moment. “Where are my clothes?” Harry questioned suddenly as an overwhelming need to be alone and gather his thoughts seemed to drop heavily on him. He needed to get out of there and away from the other’s boring gazes and their unsure and unsteady behavior and he certainly wasn’t about to go traipsing about the castle in the hospital pajamas. “Over here,” Ginny responded as she pointed to the bedside table where his jeans, t-shirt, cloak and shoes had been folded and placed. Harry quickly swung his legs over the bed and reached for his clothes, causing Ginny to jump to the side to get out of the way as he made the grab for them. “What are you doing?” Ron questioned, sounding confused as to why Harry was so bent on leaving all the sudden. “I need to–I need to–see Dumbledore,” Harry made up wildly, trying frantically to think of a nice way to say he needed to be alone to gather his thoughts. “Ok…” Ginny said in agreement, trying to piece together the reason behind his suddenly heightened sense of urgency. “We don’t have to rush, let’s take our time. You can get dressed and maybe something to ea–” “No–I–you guys stay here,” Harry interrupted as he pulled off the stiff hospital pajama top, revealing his scarred and bruised chest as he pulled on his own worn t-shirt. Ginny opened he mouth as if to make an objection to Harry’s insistence, but spoke before she could utter a sound. “I just need to run over things…fill him in,” Harry tried to smooth over the situation and avoid any other questions. “You all should get some rest, something to eat,” he added with a nod to Ron and Hermione. “Are you sure?” Hermione asked sounding very disbelieving of Harry’s real motive for leaving instead of staying and getting rest for himself. “Yeah–I’ll be back in a while. We’ll stay here for the night and tomorrow we’ll figure out where to go from here,” Harry replied as he grabbed for his jeans. “Excuse me,” Harry added as he looked around pointedly at all the women and then stepped around the curtains that had been set up around his bed. He came back a few seconds later, carrying the hospital pajama bottoms in his hand and his worn jeans firmly on in their place. He sat down on the bed and grabbed his trainers, lacing them up quickly before reaching for his traveling cloak on the table. “Where’s the invisibility cloak?” Harry asked as he stood up and looked around expectantly for someone to answer him. It was Ginny who produced the silvery fabric from underneath the bedside table, holding it out for him to take, but not letting go of her hold on it. “Are you sure you’re going to be ok?” she questioned quietly as she leaned in close to him, just barely brushing against his body with hers. “Yeah…” he breathed softly as he retained his grip on the cloak and nodded slightly in response. Ginny let out a reluctant sigh and let go of the cloak, giving him room to leave. Harry immediately turned and draped the cloak across his shoulders, making all of his body below his neck disappear from view. “I’ll be back,” he reiterated one last time before he swung the cloak over his head, becoming invisible to everyone. There was a faint ruffle of the curtains that were surrounding Harry’s bed and a faint squeak of trainers against the stone floor as he made his way down the ward. And finally there was a soft click and the sound of wood against wood as the door to the wing opened and closed, signaling Harry’s departure from the room. “Should we–?” Ron started to question as an overwhelming silence seemed to grip the room. But Ginny halted his inquiry. “No–just get some rest–gather your thoughts,” Ginny replied sadly and airily. “He’ll be back…he just needs some time,” she added quietly, waiting for Ron and Hermione to acknowledge and accept what she had said. Ron nodded finally and placed a placating arm around Hermione’s waist as he started to steer her out of the cubicle. “We’ll–um–we’ll be where we were before–at the other end of the wing,” Ron explained. “You going to be ok Gin?” asked suddenly in concern, eyeing his sister carefully. “Yeah–I’ll be ok,” she breathed in reply. “I’m just going to wait around awhile…then maybe head back to the tower,” she added, using an inclination of her head to gesture for the other two teens to make their leave and get some much needed rest. ------------------------------- ------------ Harry made his way quickly and quietly through the maze of stone halls, letting his feet and his unconscious drive move him in and out of the various passageways. He had never had any intention of going to the Headmistress’s office to visit the portrait. He knew, of course, that it was very possible that McGonagall was still meeting with Scrimgeour and he wasn’t in any sort of mood to deal with the pesky Minister of Magic. But in reality he really wasn’t in a mood to discuss what had happened and gone on with the destroying of the locket with the likeness of his former, deceased headmaster. So it was his feet and desire to be alone to think that had brought him to his current location, the foot of the staircase that led to the top of the Astronomy Tower. He paused momentarily at the bottom of the stairs, hoping for a fleeting moment that he might be able to turn away and ignore the impulse to climb the set of steps that led to the dreaded battlement. But as he began to set up the flight of stone steps, he knew that his draw towards this area was too strong and before he knew it, he was at the top, holding his hand to the cool wood of the door, bracing himself to push it open. With a loud creak, he pushed open the heavy oak door, where he was immediately met with a large rush of cold air that momentarily knocked him backwards. Once the pressure had equalized, Harry stepped out into the early evening air, noting the time of day by the lingering marks and streaks of sunlight illuminating the waning sky in the distance. Harry took a few small steps out onto the darkened platform, taking in the empty tower and trying not to let the feelings of pain and the terror overwhelm him. This was the place of his nightmares; where it seemed that everything that was sure in his life had ended in one moment of tragic horror. He had lost Dumbledore in this very spot only a few months ago and as a result, Harry now felt more alone and lost than ever before. This place and the series of events that had unfolded here had signaled the beginning of the end and were perhaps the catalyst to what might lead to his final undoing. And right now, the silent beauty of the Astronomy Tower, as the clutches of night threatened to take it over, was achingly mocking and almost too hard to take. He walked slowly over to the spot where he had been immobilized by Dumbledore, bringing a hand to the chilled stone. He didn’t know what would be accomplished by dwelling in this spot, but all the feelings of helplessness he had experienced that night seemed fresh to him all the sudden. He could almost feel his muscles go taut and rigid in remembrance of the spell he had been put under. If only he had been allowed to help. If he had been allowed to move, he could have disarmed Malfoy and gotten Dumbledore help. Hell…he even reckoned he could have taken on the lot of Death Eaters given how angry and full of adrenaline he would have been. But he hadn’t been given the chance or that option. He’d been paralyzed and stuck up against the wall while all the events unfolded in one agonizingly long and tortuous sequence; like a bad movie reel stuck on repeat. Instinctively he turned from the spot where he had been during all of this and moved towards the edge of the battlement where Dumbledore had been kneeling in front of, weak from their journey to the cave and vulnerable to attack. Flashes and ghostly echoes of the conversations that had taken place seemed to fill Harry’s senses as he made his way to the edge of the stone barrier. All of it–the contemplative conversation between Draco Malfoy and Dumbledore, the taunting and snarling threats of Fenrir Greyback and his fellow Death Eaters, and the pleading and wavering voice of Dumbledore followed by the hate-filled bellow of Severus Snape that ended it all–came back to him in waves of anger and distress. Harry had reached the edge of the tower, his hands resting on the rock parapet, as he propped himself against the barrier and tried to steel himself. This is where Dumbledore had gone over. Sure, he’d been gone before he had toppled off the tower. But the former Headmaster’s plunge off the stone rampart had been symbolic of the fall from grace that the wizarding world and Harry himself were experiencing with the departure of their leader. He leaned over the edge slowly. Unlike that night in June, the ground below was clear, slightly brown and littered with the falling autumn leaves. There was no body; no broken form resting in the grass below. But as he looked out into the open space before and below him, he could not get the images out of his mind and stop them from flashing back into his consciousness. The strange angles of limbs, the line of blood on his face, the feel of the fake Horcrux in his hand and all the emotions of irony and a far-removed sadistic fate threatened to create a sensory overload in his system as he leaned over the edge. The edge. How simple would it be? Fall off…it’d be over. Hell…it was a long way down. It might even by instantaneous…Why not? “Stop!” he hissed to himself when he found these thoughts starting to crop up in his mind. He wasn’t that desperate. Sure, things were bad and at times this task seemed insurmountable. But he had never had and should never have thoughts like that. He stepped back slowly from the barrier. “What the hell am I doing?” he sighed out loud as he ran his hand through his hair. “That’s sort of what I’d like to know,” said a voice suddenly from behind him. Harry froze. He hadn’t heard the door to the tower open. He turned slowly on the spot, instinctually gripping his wand inside of his robes. “Remus–” Harry breathed in relief, relinquishing his hold on his wand. Remus nodded. “You alright?” Remus questioned as he stepped closer to Harry and studied his former pupil closely. “Yeah,” Harry replied softly and with a small smile. “How’d you know I was here?” he questioned as an afterthought. “The others said you’d needed some time to yourself,” Remus responded. “So they didn’t buy that I was going to the Headmistress’s office?” Harry asked. “No,” Remus answered truthfully. “That–and I was alerted to a disturbance here. We’ve had all sorts of alarms and sensory spells put in place and we thought maybe it was a couple of students out of bounds after curfew looking for a few alone moments. But I had Ron check the map–and I saw it was you.” Harry nodded in response to the explanation. Of course it made sense that there had been extra precautions and security measures put into place after Dumbledore’s death. And he thought it almost foolish that he would think he could move about the castle without being noticed. “So–” Remus breathed as he inhaled a lung-full of the fresh night air and took in the sight of the surrounding view that the towering battlement lent. He looked up at the sky for a second and Harry followed his gaze, noting that the moon was not present in the sky. Of course that made sense. If it had been a full moon, Remus wouldn’t be the one here with him in one of these dark moments that seemed all too frequent in his life. “Are you sure you’re ok?” Remus offered seriously as he stood beside Harry. He made it a point to look directly at him and Harry wondered if the others had told Remus about his eyes. “The other’s told you about–about my eyes?” Harry asked. “They mentioned it,” Remus answered airily. “I’ll be ok…I just need a bit of time,” Harry responded and answered before Remus could ask if he was alright again. “Ginny said they were–” “Grey,” Harry answered for him. “The color’s gone and they’re grey,” he continued in a dead and hollow sort of voice. Remus was silent and tense, as if he were contemplating what his next course of action or his next words should be. “And you’re fine with that?” Remus inquired, questioning his continued reluctance to admit that he was anything but. “It’s just a color,” Harry sighed as he turned away from his former professor and friend’s gaze and turned his attention back to the night sky. “There’s nothing I can do about it and I’m fine physically. Things could have turned out a lot worse…I shouldn’t be complaining. So why worry about such a little thing?” “Little thing?” Remus repeated in confirmation, sounding thoroughly disheartened to hear Harry describe it as such. “He could have taken a lot more,” Harry forced himself to say, causing his response to sound a bit more harsh than intended. “Harry–sometimes there are things buried deeper than what we can view on the outside. Those things tend to eat at us a bit more than we like to admit,” Remus said quietly. “I said I was fine,” Harry replied harshly, shaking his head simultaneously. “I could be blind–I could have died! Losing my eye color is not that–it’s not that–” Harry yelled and found himself stuttering suddenly, unable to say that it was ‘not that important’. But he could bring himself to. “Harry?” Remus questioned as Harry went still and silent and bowed his head in the darkness. “My mum,” Harry whispered painfully, willing the tears to stay unshed. “He took the last part–the only piece of her I had left,” he cried quietly into the night, trying to hide his anguish from Remus. Harry felt a comforting hand wrap around his shoulders and pull him closer to Remus. “You’re wrong Harry,” Remus whispered into Harry’s ear, his voice quivering and hoarse from his own rush of emotions. “He can never take or even–touch–the most important part of Lily that you have,” he continued fiercely. Harry turned his head and raised his brows in question. “It’s not your eyes themselves Harry–or the color or shape–but what one sees when you look into them,” Remus said firmly. “The kindness of your heart and the depth of your soul that is so evident in them is what are important. Your mother was an exceedingly beautiful woman and like you–her eyes were magnificent in their own right. But it was the friendship, the loyalty and the passion that radiated from her when you connected with her--that was the most striking thing about her. He didn’t take that from you–he never will. Lily still lives on in you and she always will.” Harry knew Remus was right. He shouldn’t let this make him feel as though he had lost his connection with his mother. But the moment he had been unable to see that brilliant shade of green, it had seemed as though he had had his mother ripped away from him all over again. It hurt to know that every time he looked in the mirror from now on, he’d be met with the cold steel grey instead of the hues of emerald he was used to. But Remus’s words did comfort him. He had been told before that his parents lived in on him and he was very much like them. Most times, it had been physical comparisons and talk of how much he looked like his dad. But perhaps it was better to dwell on what wasn’t on the surface. It comforted him to know that his parents were wonderful, kind, and passionate people and that he carried on that tradition and held those traits, even if they weren’t things that could be measured or seen physically. “I guess I was just shocked–scared of what I saw,” Harry admitted quietly. “I was relieved at first not to be blind–but this seemed almost worse.” “You do understand what I’m trying to tell you, right?” Remus asked seriously as he continued to embrace Harry. “That like your arm…your scar…this doesn’t affect who you are…” “I know,” Harry sniffed and added a small smile. “But thanks for reminding me….” Harry felt Remus nod in response as the two continued to comfort each other. “I just hate how this has to be so hard,” Harry sighed into the night. “I hate putting everyone through all this and I really don’t know I’m going to hold up through every one we destroy.” “It’s tough…but we’ll continue to do what we’ve been doing and stick by one another and stay strong that way,” Remus assured him. Harry inclined his head, stifling a yawn and shivering slightly as he noticed how the chill had set into the air. “Maybe you should head in…Ron and Hermione are crashing in the Hospital Wing and Ginny headed back to her dorm. We’ll figure out what happens next in the morning,” Remus offered. “You’ll be safe here for the night,” he added in confirmation. “Yeah–sounds good,” Harry said with a nod. “G’night,” he added as he turned away towards the door as Remus stayed supported against the parapet. “Night kid,” Remus responded in a tired voice of his own. “Oh and Harry–” he added, causing Harry to pause and turn back. “Password’s belladonna,” Remus said with a smile. Harry took a second to take in what Remus had said, before it clicked into place in his slightly hazy brain. “Thanks,” Harry replied with a sly smile of his own before pushing open the door that led back to the castle and headed towards his next destination–Gryffindor Tower. ------------------------------ ------------- Ginny flung herself down on the couch in front of the fire after she had made her way back to the tower. The common room had been empty and she was grateful for it. The past few hours had been so draining and confusing as she had watched Harry suffer and struggle in the Headmistress’s office. And it had been even more so as she had waited on pins and needles in the hospital wing as he lay there unconscious, his future so much more unsure even than it had been before this whole ordeal with the locket. Her body was tired and she desperately needed sleep. But it was her mind that was racing and whirring with all her conflicting and confusing emotions that was causing her the most trouble. She hadn’t wanted to let him leave the wing and go out on his own. But her instinct had been to let him. As much as she had wanted to be the one to hold and to help him and neither she, nor anyone else could understand and provide that type of comfort. Nobody knew what he was really going through. And it was this extreme feeling of helplessness that overwhelmed her as she sat there, her unshed tears suddenly at the surface and falling down her cheeks. She swiped at the trail of tears, trying to calm herself. But even as she did so, she couldn’t stop a sob from escaping her mouth. That one sob soon escalated into another and she found herself unable to control her emotions as she broke down and let it all out. “Ginny are you ok?” came a voice from a far corner, causing Ginny to jump at the sound and her hand to go automatically back to her face to try and hide her tears. “Yeah–I’m fine Dean,” Ginny croaked as she saw Dean Thomas’s blurry form rise from a corner chair. “No you’re not,” he said in a completely unconvinced and concerned sounding voice as he strode over to her and sat next to her on the couch. “What happened?” he asked as he studied her with concern. Ginny only shook her head, trying to will away anymore tears. “Did something happen in your family?” he questioned, searching for a reason to why she was upset. The injury or death of a family member was a very common thing to cause chaos and sorrow in the student body these days so it wasn’t a reach of Dean to ask this. “No–they’re fine,” she breathed. “I just–I just had a bad day,” she invented quickly. Dean contemplated her quietly as if trying to decide whether to continue or how to. “Is it Harry?” he inquired quietly and measurably, gauging and waiting for Ginny’s reaction. She hesitated and took her own moment to gather her thoughts and decide on how to address this. “I’m just worried about him,” she cried quietly. “He’s out there fighting isn’t he?” Dean asked. “He and your brother and Hermione?” Ginny didn’t respond. “You don’t have to tell me anything,” Dead added quickly. “It’s just–well–it’s just the sort of thing you’d expect them to be doing now that they’re not here.” Ginny nodded at the truth to that statement. It wasn’t a secret that those three hadn’t come back to school and it was speculated widely and daily as to why and where they were. “You really miss him don’t you?” Ginny nodded but didn’t know how to go on. It was weird discussing her current boyfriend with her former boyfriend and a little unnerving that he was probing so freely into her feelings. “Ginny–” Dean started again. “I want you to know–that I’m not–I don’t hold any hard feelings towards you or him. What we had when we were together–it was fun and I’ve got a lot of good memories–but I know we never had what you and Harry do.” Ginny raised her head enough to give Dean a questioning and what she gathered was a somewhat shocked look. “I know you probably don’t believe me–the way I behaved after–well after the whole thing in the common room after the match–but I’m glad you’re happy with him. And I’m glad that he has you to make him happy too. God knows that bloke needs it sometimes,” Dean added with a bit of a chuckle at the last statement. “Thanks Dean,” Ginny managed with a watery grin of her own. “And yeah–I do miss him. I miss him a lot,” she admitted quietly. Dean nodded and put a tentative arm around Ginny’s shoulders, waiting for her to respond. When she didn’t pull away, he left it there and continued. “I know things are tough around here and it’s hard to get a word in sometimes with how tense and worried everyone is,” Dean said quietly. “But I want you to know if you ever need someone to vent to or just–talk–about things…I’m here. And I don’t want any harbored feeling get in the way of that…alright?” “Thank you,” Ginny replied, feeling very grateful to Dean’s genuine concern for her feelings. “And I might take you up on that sometime,” she added as she put a friendly arm around him and embraced Dean loosely. A/N: Here’s chapter 36 as promised and I hope that it’s a good one for you. I was a little sidetracked this week with the whole plagiarism thing that happen to me when I had this story hijacked and posted on another site. But I’m happy to say that it’s all worked out and I’m back concentrating on writing. Oh–and you all asked a while back for some drama and I think you won’t be disappointed in the next chapter (if you caught on to what’s happening at the moment in different parts of the castle…hehe) |
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