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Innocence
By Mystical Magical Me

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Category: Post-Hogwarts
Characters:All
Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst
Warnings: Death, Extreme Language
Story is Complete
Rating: R
Reviews: 4
Summary: Harry alone at the final battle with nothing but his eyes and his thoughts.
Hitcount: Story Total: 3606



Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work.



Author's Notes:
Hi, yeah I finally got this story up and about after so log. My first story too! Oh well, enjoy!




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Innocence


I can’t remember the day I lost my innocence.

Innocence, what a strange word, but to me it was important: it was a secret, quiet joy that filled my waking minutes and waited impatiently beside me while I slept, blissfully unaware of the cruel vicissitudes of fate. I was so full of life...


Harry Potter looked around at the ensuing battlefield with despair in his eyes. Bodies were strewn everywhere as frequent as pebbles on a beach. Some were Death Eaters, some were Aurors, some were members of the Order, and some were his fellow classmates, members of the DA, the organization that he ran to teach students to be able to defend themselves. They’d dubbed it Dumbledore’s Army as a joke, something just to spite Fudge and Umbridge. Unfortunately, it had become truer than they would have ever anticipated.

I could have lost my innocence on one of the many deaths in my short life that led after the very first time, when I stared into Cedric Diggory’s lifeless eyes.

Or perhaps it was before that, when I met Voldemort for the second time, and first killed a man in my first year going after the Philosopher’s Stone.

Or was it during my eleven years of manhandling at the Dursleys, which just wore away at my innocence, till there was nothing left.

Or most likely, before I was even born, in the guest room of the Hog's Head, where Sybil Trelawney whipped away my innocence from my screaming soul with just a few sentences.


From his vantage point up high on the roof of the Riddle’s old home in Little Hangleton he could see everything. He watched helplessly as Neville Longbottom was finally shot down by the six Death Eaters he was furiously fighting at once. Colin Creevy holding his brother's lifeless brother in his arms, tears pouring down his face, then getting up and furiously hurling his small form at the Death Eater who did it, trying to beat him to death with his bare hands, only to be sliced in half by a vicious cutting curse.

He knew it was his job to stay out of the way until Voldemort arrived; he was going to need every ounce of energy to end this, but it was killing him to just stand here and watch everyone he loved be slain. He smiled briefly as Ernie Macmillan and Justin Flinch-Fletchley stun and bound a group of five Death Eaters, before clipping them with the Portkeys that would take them directly to Azkaban.

He saw the Patil twins get consumed with a poisonous looking scarlet gas from the tip of a Death Eater's wand, and hear their anguished screams as the were reduced to nothing but two skeletons, whilst at the same time Dean Thomas feebly try to fight off a swarm of Dementors with a pale Patronus, but to no avail. His muffled shrieks were abruptly cut off as the Dementor lowered its hood to perform the kiss.

Harry stared down at the battlefield, every fiber of his being screaming at him to help his friends, but the five years of Advanced Auror training after his seventh year at Hogwarts had battled a sense of reason into him. He couldn’t waste any energy on any spells; he would need it all for the final battle. As his pain-filled eyes watched three more Aurors fall, his fingers absent-mindedly reached up and clutched the modified Time Turner on its chain around his neck, tears welling up in his clouded eyes. He had first come up with the idea, but Hermione, Luna and Dumbledore’s portrait had developed it. It looked just like a regular Time Turner, except the sand timer was in a tiny model of the Sun, surrounded by a model of the solar system on a gyroscope. The difference with this Turner was that, unlike regular Turners, it could go back years, not just hours. Its only limit was how old the person was; for this Time Turner transported the mind of the bearer back however many years ago into the body of his or her younger self. The body could never survive such a journey, they were much too fragile, but the mind-- that’s made of stronger stuff, it could survive the rollercoaster ride through the Time/Space Continuum. He’d had it built as a precaution, just in case everything went wrong, and there was only one of its kind. His hand hovered over the small glass model, finger wavering over the Turner as he watched Hagrid and Grawp finally succumb to the masses of spells that were bouncing off their thick hides. It would all be so easy, just a flick of the finger, and he could go back. But he couldn’t. Not whilst there were still people who loved him.

That’s the trouble with being the Hero, everybody expects you to make the right choices, to be able to solve any problem they give you, to beat every foe you come across, and come out without a scratch. Maybe that’s what happened in fairy tales, with your knight in shining armor with his crystal clear sword a-blazing. But this is the real world, and I’m just a man. A mortal man. I can bleed, hurt, cry, wound and die, just like everyone else. Only I’m not allowed to. I have to stand strong, never waver, never flinch. But I’m still just a man. A man who grew up to fast and never really experienced the care free world of innocent childhood.

His eyes sought out the center of the whirlwind of spells that was Ron, Hermione and Ginny all with their backs facing each others, slowly circling, shooting and shielding, taking out Death Eater after Death Eater. His eyes caught the glint of gold on Ginny’s finger and his heart filled with love. He had proposed only the day before, just so he’d have something to look forward to, something to fight for. Then there was Ron and Hermione, each other's hands in one of theirs, and wand in the other. Once they’d gotten over their bickering, they’d discovered themselves in each other, and become inseparable.

That’s when it happened. Voldemort rose up from the ground in a cloud of smoke like a low budget Hollywood film. He grinned.

Time to fulfill my destiny.

Harry stopped grinning abruptly. Voldemort was right beside Ron, Hermione and Ginny, who were completely unaware.

Voldemort swept his wand.

He was right beside Ginny.

A scream ripped at his throat as he saw the two best friends a man could ask for fall to the ground, a silent “o” on their lips, eyes wide with shock.

Then another scream came out of the air, and Harry saw, all too late, that Voldemort had Ginny by the throat. A furious roar came out of Harry’s mouth; he couldn’t lose Ginny, not her too. He leapt from the roof, changing into an impressive golden, emerald eyed Lion the size of a car as he flew down and landed with a thump on the floor, trampling two Death Eaters as he did.

In six bounds and twelve Death Eater he was beside Voldemort, and reverted to his human form, wand poised at Voldemort.

“Put. Her. Down.”

Voldemort bared his teeth in what Harry assumed was meant to be a smile.

“You know what, I don’t think I will.” Harry glanced at Ginny, who was rapidly turning blue in the face. He growled manically and jumped at her, sending a variety of curses directly at Voldemort. Harry grabbed hold of Ginny’s cloak and tried to pull her off. He swore loudly as he tried unsuccessfully to break Voldemort’s grip.

“Hang on Ginny; I’ll get you out of this. I promise.” She attempted to speak whilst Voldemort tried to battle the tongue of fire trying to consume his head.

“Remember Harry… Always loved you… Always will…” she finally managed to gasp.

Then Voldemort broke free of the curse and Harry was found himself flung to the ground, the breath knocked out of him and wand gone from his hand. He looked up from the floor and looked into Ginny’s eyes. They were on the ground with her head, some six feet away from her body.

A rage filled up inside of him that he had never known as tears now flowed freely from his eyes. Fuck it all. Killing Voldemort wouldn’t be worth this.

Now, I only know that whatever happened to me, I’d rather die than allow it to happen to another child. It is this drive alone, this fierce determination to protect the world from what I have become, that allows me to face the dread of waking up again.

Harry looked up at Voldemort, a hot bubbling fire in his eyes, his wand aimed at his forehead.

“Any last words Potter?”

And so, Fate, a toast to you. To the loss of innocence.

Harry looked once more at Ginny.

It shall not go unpunished.

He stared into the red glow that was once Tom Riddle’s soul.

Because Hell willl freeze over before I let this happen again.

“Yeah. Until next time.”

Harry grasped his Time Turner and concentrated to the beginning of his fifth year.

Giving a mock salute, he spun the Turner right in front of Voldemort’s shocked face, and his mind and soul were ripped from this earth.

0oOo0


I really doubt I’ll write any more on this so don’t wait up. And I feel really depressed after writing this…

Reviews 4
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