Love it? Hate it? Review!.
Yes. I know. Dumbledore and Sirius are alive in this I love them too much to let them die. This is just a though tI (MG) couldn't get out of my head. Though the tone of this is quite different than most of what we plan for our series, The Sons of Dumbledore, which is humor and adventure.Sons of Dumbledore! Comming soon!
Thanks a ton to TFA (Andy) and my lovely sister Mia (NerdLee), who are awesome and I couldn't have dont this without them!
Love & Stuff
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As It Should Be | ||||
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Category: Alternate Universe Characters:None Genres: Action/Adventure Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: PG Reviews: 4 Summary: The greatest thing you'll ever learn is to love and be loved in return. Hitcount: Story Total: 4207 Disclaimer: You all know none of this belongs to me, I just steal JK's dolls and tweak their strings a bit. DANCE PUPPET! DANCE! Excuse me.... I also don't own Moulan Rouge or Cadfael. Author's Notes: |
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Fourteen people stood in a circle holding hands. A blinding white mist and ghostly figures surrounded them. The white mist was swirling quick and strong around them. They didn’t seem to be anywhere; not on earth nor any other world just absolutely nowhere at all. There was nothing defining about the room apart from the mist, and the soft, pure white light. There were many redheads in the circle, as well as an ancient man, a woman with bushy brown hair, a tall, gaunt middle-aged man, and a ragged and prematurely graying man. They all stood tall and in unity. Though there was one man who stood out above all. He was tall, muscular, had jet-black hair, a lightning bolt scar, and emerald green eyes. But, as physically attractive as he was, that was not what made him stand out from the entourage. An enormous amount of energy was radiating off of him. He was looking down, eyes closed, and in deep concentration. The power was so strong around him that you could hear it, see it, and almost taste it. It was an invigorating sight. The power rippled from the young man’s body in waves of heat and color. As one, the members of the circle all looked up. In the center of the nimbus circle was another man (if you could call him that). A look of pure unadulterated hate was written across his face. He was standing precisely in the center of the formation staring defiantly at them, that is, until a pair of blazing green eyes met his blood red ones. Then the snake-like man fell to his knees and screamed in agony. His one, torn shriek seemed to rip the very air. It was filled with disbelief, anger, malice and pain. The pain was nearly unbearable. One of the redheads unlocked her hands from the circle and walked quietly and serenely through the mist to the pained figure, who was now writhing in anguish, his mouth open in a scream that didn’t make it past his lips. Her deep chocolate brown eyes met his as she stared down at him. Her hair was splayed out around her as if an invisible wind were blowing it in all directions. She broke eye contact with the being and looked at all the people surrounding her with deep compassion. Then she looked at the man with jet-black hair. He smiled and nodded at her. She took a deep breath, all eyes on her, thrust the palm of her left hand onto the screaming man’s forehead, and whispered boldly, “The love of his heart! Uxor battuere amor lectum!” The man let out an ear-splitting cry of pain as her palm connected with his forehead. His body started twisting and convulsing in unnatural angles as he cried out in pain. The red haired woman turned her back to the man and went back to join hands with her companions. Next a heavy-set woman, with red hair as well, shakily stepped out of the circle. She walked forwards and looked down at him with disgust mingled with fear. She then looked over at a redheaded man. Her eyes slowly went over the people beside him; they gave her strength. She looked back down at the man and touched his forehead with her left palm while, saying, “The love a mother! By proxy for you Lily! Sorcus amare lectum!” The red haired man that the woman looked to came up to the man, looked down at him with revulsion, put his palm on his forehead, and cried, “The love of a father! By proxy for you James! Socer agape lectum!” Then walked back to the others holding hands once more. After that, six redheaded men stepped foreword, encircling the man in unbearable pain. They all looked at each other, nodded, raised their left hands and said simultaneously, “The love of a brother! Frater caritas lectum!” The body on the floor curled up into fetal position as he moaned in pain. His hands opened and shut upon themselves as though desperately wishing for something to appear in them and aid him. No help was to be had for him here, though. And his trial wasn’t over yet. Next, the bushy-haired woman walked gracefully towards the man on the floor. She glanced over at one of the taller redheaded men as he gave her an encouraging lopsided smile. She took a deep breath, raised her palm, and said, “The love of a sister! Puera caritas lectum!” After she joined the others, two men broke away from the rest. The gaunt-looking man, and the prematurely gray man stepped up to the withering man on the floor before them. The gaunt one winked at the man with the lightning blot scar. The graying man saw the wink and rolled his eyes. They both put out their hands towards the man and said in chorus, “The love of an advisor and friend! Pater ducer agape lectum!” After the two men, the ancient man with bright purple robes calmly walked forward. His eyes that once had a merry twinkle in them, held none at all as he gazed at the man before him. He looked down at him with pity as he said, “Why Tom?” When he received nothing but a small hiss from the figure below him, he sighed, and said, “The love of a mentor! Ducere agape lectum!” Then he went back and took his place with the others Lastly, the black-haired man looked around at those surrounding him. These were the people who gave him hope, kindness, laughter, and love. He closed his eyes, and raised his arms outstretched from his body. He allowed these feelings to fill him, to swallow him up, and move through him. He took in a deep, slow breath and opened his eyes. He would do this for them. As they have done for him. All the people took a few steps back from where they were standing. The scarred man’s eyes bore into those of the man’s on the floor. His power crackled and flared in bursts of color and light around him as he lowered his arms and strode confidently over to the body. The being on the floor looked as though he were about to break in two. As his watering eyes locked with the man coming towards him, his life flashed before him. He saw himself manipulating the young children at the orphanage, Dumbledore telling him he was a wizard, going to Hogwarts, studying Dark Arts with fervor, opening the Chamber of Secrets, teaching himself the Unforgivables, killing and torturing for the first time, leaving Hogwarts, becoming Lord Voldemort, killing his father and grandparents without so much as a twinge of guilt, creating dementors and inferi, bringing havoc upon the world, becoming the most feared wizard of the century, hearing of the prophesy secondhand, attempting to kill the Potter’s son, his soul being separated from his body as his spell rebound, being reborn, and suffering the torture of love. He then realized that he, Lord Voldemort, was weak. That the lengths he had taken to secure his mortality had not made him stronger. The power and fear he had wielded over the lives of others did not lift him above them. The man with black hair looked at Tom Riddle for the last time saying, “Goodbye Tom.” Tom Riddle stared up at the man helplessly. He whispered, “Forgive me.” The man gave him a look of pity and replied, “That’s not for me to decide, Tom. Goodbye.” The dark haired man looked to the woman who came forward first in at the start of the ritual. She mouthed I love you. He mouthed her words back to her. He then turned his attention to the man in the center of the circle. He raised both hands in the air as he shouted, “POSSIDERE CANIDUS AMOR ATERNUS LECTUM!” Bright blinding white light flooded in around them coming from the scarred man as he reconnected his hands with his companion’s. The feeling of love was so strong that it was intoxicating. All occupants of the room were breathing heavily and grasping the other’s hands hard to stay standing, and to keep from breaking the circle. The room felt as though it was spinning, but at the very same time as though it were completely still. They all closed their eyes as one and centered their feelings onto Tom Riddle. After a few moments, the group only heard a hiss and then silence from the center. The green-eyed man opened his eyes sharply and let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. Harry Potter smiled. Lord Voldemort was gone. The world was as it should be. Harry felt a release of weight from his shoulders as the burden that had been his for so long, finally left him. Tears of relief sprang to his eyes. It was really over. He pulled the beautiful red headed girl into his chest, and breathed in deeply. Slowly, the idea of an attainable, normal life began to take hold in his heart, and he smiled into her hair. ________________________________________ __________ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ________________________________________ __________ |
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