Disclaimer: I don't own Harry potter in any way, shape or form... I'm fine with that.
Aftermath and a Black Parade of the Mind.
Clouds rolled overhead as a tall, thin and lanky male, possibly in his late teens or early twenties, stepped alone from a bus station doorway. He shifted the light day-bag he carried over his shoulder and gazed unconcerned at the sky, for London weather was often like this in late spring. He was jobless but comfortable, this man was, that's for sure. His vibrant hair fell unkempt across his face as he lowered his gaze to the asphalt he tread upon. Music. In the background, he thought he heard it—or was it in his head?—He couldn't tell the difference anymore.. He couldn't tell if he was walking down a road now or from so many years ago.. Like walking down memory lane. Then he heard it loud and clear. His eyes went wide as he called the day he was seeing as his fifth birthday. His father had taken him somewhere... He strained to remember, then it hit him full force.
When I was a young boy,
My father took me into the city
To see a marching band
They'd gone to see the marching band in a nearby muggle town. That's what they'd done. But there was something else. His father.. Something monumental had happened that day, hadn't it? The music came closer and he spied a medium-height, slightly balding, bespectacled man carrying a red-headed rug-rat on his shoulders. The child was squirming with excitement like everyone else who was watching the band. Just before the marching band was out of sight, the man lifted the boy from his shoulders and knelt down to face him. What was it that his father had told him? Again, it was like something was thrown violently at him in the dark.
He said, "Son when you grow up,
would you be the savior of the broken, the beaten and the damned?"
He said "Will you defeat them,
your demons, and all the non believers, the plans that they have made?
Because one day, I'll leave you
a phantom to lead you in the summer,
to join the black parade."
It echoed in his head.
When I was a young boy,
My father took me into the city
To see a marching band.
He said, "Son when you grow up,
would you be the savior of the broken, the beaten and the damned?"
He thought back to those times, those happier times. When his whole family was still here, and things were so easy.. There was peace, the world was happy.. He was happy. All of that's changed now, though. Now, that slightly balding man that was his father was in the ground, his mother nearly on her deathbed from grief. All of his older brothers were gone from him forever, and his younger sister was lost to the world only through insanity. Harry was alright, but Hermione... HIS Hermione... She was gone. She died to save him, sacrificed herself and there was nothing he could have done about it. He'd loved her so much.. Loved her still.. That there was an ache in his heart, his soul, an ache so deep it left an endless void that couldn't be filled and hurt even more upon examination. Suddenly he was conscious and he realized that his eyes were misted and his vision foggy with tears. He hadn't stopped walking. He was lost now, even to himself, in thought.
Sometimes I get the feeling she's watching over me.
And other times I feel like I should go.
And through it all, the rise and fall, the bodies in the streets.
When you're gone we want you all to know.
His mind was reeling, faster than ever before. She wouldn't want him to cry, so he wouldn't. He steeled himself and something new danced across his thoughts.
We'll carry on,
We'll carry on
And though you're dead and gone believe me
Your memory will carry on
We'll carry on
And in my heart I can't contain it
The anthem won't explain it.
There was, in his thoughts, an uprising of feeling. The memories flooded his head like the gate of a reservoir bursting open. He felt again all the sorrow and pain, the happiness and overwhelming pride. All the anger and betrayal flooded in as well, but he pushed it all aside. He sorted through it all.
And we will send you reeling from decimated dreams
Your misery and hate will kill us all.
So paint it black and take it back
Lets shout it loud and clear
Defiant to the end
We hear the call
He tried not to cry as a sob rose up in his throat. Hermione's and his father's face floated in his mind.
To carry on
We'll carry on
Though you're dead and gone believe me
Your memory will carry on
We'll carry on
And though you're broken and defeated
Your weary widow marches
On and on we carry through the fears
Ooh oh ohhhh
Disappointed faces of your peers
Ooh oh ohhhh
Take a look at me cause I could not care at all
His will was stronger now, full of new reserve. He and his family had suffered many plights, but in the end, he knew they'd make it.
Do or die
You'll never make me
Because the world will never take my heart
You can try, you'll never break me
You want it all, you wanna play this part
Won't explain or say I'm sorry
I'm not ashamed, I'm gonna show my scar
Give a cheer for all the broken
Listen here, because it's only you
I'm just a man, I'm not a hero
I'm just a boy, who's meant to sing this song
I'm just a man, I'm not a hero
I -- don't -- care
He shook his head, clearing his mind. He was back at the Burrow, though he was the only one left; his mother and sister were both at St. Mungo's. He had a feeling that Harry was there as well. Harry's over-all loss was the worst, it seemed, because now he had NO ONE. Ron was never coming back. He would pack his bags, sell the house and most of the family posessions.. He'd have to get rid of that infernal clock... The hands for his mother and sister were both on 'Mortal peril' still, and his own was on 'Travelling' because this was no longer his home. He filled his day bag, his travel bag, his overnight bag and retrieved every Gringotts key in the house. They were all in his name now.
We'll carry on
We'll carry on
Though you're dead and gone believe me
Your memory will carry on
We'll carry on
And though you're broken and defeated
Your weary widow marches on
We'll carry on
We'll carry on
We'll carry on
We'll carry
We'll carry on
None of it mattered anymore.
(Do or die, you'll never make me
Because the world, will never take my heart
You can try, you'll never break me
You want it all, you wanna play this part
Do or die, you'll never make me
Because the world, will never take my heart
You can try, you'll never break me
You want it all, you wanna play this part
Do or die, you'll never make me
Because the world, will never take my heart
You can try, you'll never break me)
You want it all, you wanna play this part...
He stepped off the stoop laden with bags, raised his wand hand in front of him(his wand as well, of course) and handed his bags to the conducter boy.
"Where too Sir?"
The only response he got was, "Anywhere."
A/N: OMG I hope you like it!! R&R please...