I'm on my Harry Potter fanfiction writing binge week :)
This one's sadder than usual... apologies.
All feedback is appreciated and I hope you like it!
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS. THEY BELONG TO AN ENTITY MUCH GREATER THAN I.
The memories hit him like a slap in the face, an ice water bath. The stone, falling in slow motion out of his hand; the ghostly apparitions; the winding trek through the Forest; the soft hands of a desperate mother perusing his chest, as they both pretended to be something that they weren't.
The starry ceiling in shards on a bloodstained marble floor; rubble piled on still-moving staircases; caved-in breastplates on animate knights, the lucky few with chain mail defense; the others had caved-in hearts, ribs, lungs.
The faces. Oh, the faces.
Harry drew in a shaking, shivering breath before throwing himself down on the ground, raking the soil in search of the shell of a Snitch. His hands clawed at the soft earth, flinging clods of dirt every which way. Nails caked with mud, trousers stained with grass and grime; he looked the picture of insanity. And maybe he was insane. Harry didn't know. Harry didn't care. Harry was completely fixated on finding a ruby-red stone that would solve all of his problems.
Only now did he understand the folly of Cadmus Peverell, the insatiable hunger for things he couldn't have- unless he got to that rock.
Harry tore at ground, feverishly digging in search of the elusive Resurrection Stone. He stayed there, on the unforgiving earth of the Forbidden Forest, until the sun was pulled under inky waves and the looming trees no longer solaced him with their shadows. The tranquility of twilight slowly gave way to the clamor of insects and centaurs and distant Acromantulas- and of god knows what else.
And for the first time in six days, Harry allowed himself to think of the ones beyond the veil.
Fred, oh Fred, a candle quickly snuffed out by the barest of breaths. The Battle of Hogwarts was no place for so bright a soul.
Colin Creevey, a stark black-and white snapshot of the all other pale-faced children who choked at the hands of their hero. Their deaths were his fault, all his fault.
Hedwig, his only friend in the prim little house on Privet Drive, where the tightly closed shutters harbored an unknowing eleven-year-old boy who had no wish to be "Chosen".
Remus and Tonks, who left behind an orphaned child, so eerily similar to the green-eyed, black-haired one of seventeen years ago. Two boys, one unaware of his fate, and the other the only sad comfort left for the first in the form of a broken, broken godfather. How many others would grow up this way, the same way Teddy Lupin was bound to?
Dobby, quirky, free Dobby who would never get another pair of mismatched socks again.
Albus Dumbledore, puppet-master and headmaster all at once.
Severus Snape, who kept so many secrets, even as he drowned in his own blood.
Sirius Black, born of serpentine skin and pearly fangs, who fell in the skin of a lion, roaring one last time.
And, finally, his mom and dad, so hauntingly real as he made his courageous journey to the heart of the forest, and so invisible as he struggled to find his way in the world now.
Harry struggled to his feet and leaned against a nearby tree. He braced his filthy palms against the rough bark and hung his head forward, swallowing his acid tears. The Chosen One, the Savior couldn't afford to grieve. He had to stay strong for everyone still left standing, for the survivors who looked at him now for guidance.
He had steel in his bones, iron in his blood, stone in his-
Harry couldn't.
Even as he muttered his false reassurances, his vision started to blur and his nose started to run and soon he was doing everything but actively crying.
And then the tears came.
The gloaming turned into deep, dark, black night as Harry, encircled by an army of trees, stripped off his armor and bared his skin to the horrors of life. The surrounding foliage his him from view, protected him while he was his most vulnerable.
He only pushed himself off of the tree because of another set of faces.
He still had Ron and Hermione; Luna; Neville; Hagrid; Ginny. This last though was enough to convince him to move his feet.
Harry wiped his nose on his sleeve and murmured lumos under his breath in a congested voice. The tip of his wand lit up, a beacon in the night, and Harry followed the light the way a child follows their mother; with complete, absolute trust. Even though he didn't know where he was, somehow he knew he was headed in the right direction.
Step by step he crept out of the Forbidden Forest, and he was looking around with renewed hope, hope that life could go on, hope that the worst was over, hope that- there!
Harry stumbled over his own feet, catching himself just in time. Then he turned slowly back to the foot of a tree, where the blood-red glint of a stone had caught his eyes seconds before, twinkling in the light of his wand.
He approached cautiously, quietly, terrified. Before he knew it, the stone was in his hand, slipping through his fingers, silky smooth. He stared up at the tree, which stood a few inches away from where he'd found the stone- and for the second time, something caught his eye. He walked towards the tree and ran his finger along the surface, along a carving.
JP + LE it read. And suddenly, Harry knew exactly what to do.
He crouched down on the ground and started digging again, but slowly, methodically, this time. When he'd made a big enough hole, he carefully placed the stone in the pit and packed dirt around it until the ground was once again level. He stood back up and stared at the carving once more, before turning his back on the Resurrection Stone for the last time and walking out of the Forbidden Forest.
His parents and his friends were watching over him; the stone was proof, and Harry knew that no matter what, they would always be one step behind him, whether visible or not.
oOo
Twenty years earlier…
"Hurry up, boys!" called Ogg, the Hogwarts groundskeeper. Rolling their eyes, two handsome teenage wizards broke into a leisurely jog, stopping when they stood right at the edge of the Forbidden Forest with Ogg. They were serving detention for one of their countless pranks; this one had involved frogs, treacle tart, and a pair of Sirius' socks. Even though the school year had started only two weeks earlier, James and Sirius were already stirring up chaos, working hard to keep their troublemaker reputations alive.
Detention had them wandering through the Forbidden Forest, looking for signs of rogue centaurs, who'd been causing quite a bit of ruckus lately. Most other students would've been scared out of their wits, but not these two- or, at least, they had a semblance of calm.
Looking completely at ease with themselves, they each grabbed a lantern from Ogg and sauntered into the Forest. Ogg cleared his throat.
"Hold on a minute. I'll go this way, and you two go the other. We'll meet back right here after twenty minutes, okay? Don't go in deep, just walk along the outskirts and tell me if you see anything unusual; arrows, tail hairs, trampled plants. Got it?" The two boys nodded and waited for Ogg to head off.
Only when his heavy footsteps and lantern light faded into the distance did Sirius and James allow themselves to show their unease. James shivered slightly and looked around, wary, before motioning to Sirius and starting to walk. They travelled in silence, broken only by the occasional creature sound, until suddenly Sirius started to smile.
"So, how'd it go?" he asked, smirking.
"What?" James asked, oblivious.
"Why, your suggestion to Evans, of course!" Sirius said, grinning. James laughed. He ran his free hand through his already tousled hair.
"She didn't take it very well," he confided. "But I've got all year to work on her. Mark my words, she'll go out with me someday." And with these confident words, James Potter brandished his wand at a nearby tree and moved it through the air with a flourish. Deep gouges appeared in the tree bark as he moved his hand. "James… Potter… Plus… Lily… Evans…" He trailed off, saying each name as he carved their initials into the tree. Once the work was done, he shoved his wand back into his pocket. "There!" he said, satisfied.
Sirius laughed.
"You're whipped, mate," he told James. The boy just gave a cocky smile.
"No, just confident," he said easily. The two boys walked on, laughing and talking, completely unaware that in twenty years Lily and James Potter's son would be standing in front of that very tree.
Oh, James ;)
I hope that satisfied your expectations. *beams*