AN: Not really sure where I was going with this, it kinda just flew out of my brain during my twelve hour work shift. Hope ya'll enjoy, or at least appreciate.
Blind Eyes
Silence reigned in the arena. Not even the muted plop of rain dripped from the grey clouded skies. Lying among the rocky terrain of collapsed boulders lay a small teenaged figure. One whose jet-black hair was stained with his own crimson blood that bathed his body in a shimmering puddle. Even the ferocious mother dragon, who hurt this young man, was silent, all those present could feel the fading presence of a beautiful life energy seeping out from the boy.
Only one thought rang in the audience's mind. We killed Harry Potter. Our savior, the boy-who-lived, gone.
What have we done?!
They had goaded the the dragon on, even casting stinging spells to enrage the beast. Yet Harry just stood there, gazing at the wounded dragon with tear stained emerald eyes. No one heard the mumbled words, "Forgive them for they are blind, and don't realize what they're doing." He raised his eyes to the cloudy skies, "Give me the strength to raise the veil."
He took a deep breath before casting severing charms on the dragon's chains. Elated the mother trumpeted her freedom to the skies, but the wizards, blind to all but their own desires for entertainment, reacted violently. They shot spell after spell at the dragon, illuminating the arena in a sickly rainbow glow. Enraged and in pain the Hungarian Horntail bucked and trashed, perilously close to destroying her own beloved eggs. Harry saw those lives almost snuffed out and cast a protection spell. Not on himself but on the innocent eggs. A slightly white transparent dome flickered to life surrounding the clutch of around a half-dozen eggs.
A particularly nasty pink spell scored the dragon's hide, leaving welts of dark gold blood. She gave a spasmed jerk and her claws tore across Harry's chest, smashing him into the arena's high walls. The crowd laughed and jeered at his predicament. His protective barrier flickered briefly but held firm around the eggs. Undaunted Harry slowly crawled to his feet, blood trickling down his face, bloody but unbowed.
Then, to the surprise of all but one, Harry opened his mouth and began to sing. There were no words, only lilting notes that floated upon the air, almost tangible. His voice was met with loud raucous laughter and derision. But the dragon listened, she heard his rough teenage voice and felt the magic wrap her in warm caring tendrils, soothing her wrath. She quieted her roars and curled her body gently around the protective dome surrounding her eggs. Closing her yellow slit-pupiled eyes, the Hungarian Horntail, the most aggressive dragon here, laid her snout of her forepaws as if asleep.
Stunned, the dragon tamers froze in confusion before they too heard the strains of music. One by one they lowered their wands and turned to face Harry. Gradually the crowd quieted, as they were captivated by Harry's voice. It was rough and young, a boy barely on the edge of puberty, yet pure and sweet in tone.
He now sung in an unknown language, full of vowels and measured arias. Soft pale green lights, reminiscent of baby sprouts in spring, materialized before Harry and danced. It was a dance of hope and promise.
The music entered the hearts of the listeners, drifting through their bodies, giving them peace and contentment. Visions sprang unbidden to their minds. Visions called forth from their own hearts of their loved ones, joyful memories full of love. Tears cascaded down many face, their eyes clear and sparkling with an inner light.
All too soon disaster struck. The rocky arena, weakened by each competitor, began to crumble. The tantrums of four dragons proved too destructive for statis charms. Rumbles foretold the landslide underneath Harry's feet, yet he didn't move, rather he couldn't move. Pale and weak from blood loss, Harry continued to sing. Exhausting the last of his magic into his heart's voice. Abruptly the song cut off as he tumbled down the rocky landslide. Leaving only a ringing silence as the fading echoes of the quake abated.
Hermione sat in the middle row of the stands, her hands over her mouth as her tearstained brown eyes remained locked on the body of her best friend. For there was no doubt that he no longer sparkled within those green eyes.
What had he done? Why do he do it'
Her wail of grief broke the stalemate of silence. Vaulting over the audience, she raced into the arena. She hear cries of sorrow and disbelief arise behind her as she tore towards Harry. She knelt at his head, unheedful of his blood soaking her jeans, and knew by the glassy glaze in his once bright emerald eyes that she had lost her best friend, never to return. Hermione buried her head into his chest, ignoring the splash of barely warm crimson blood mingling with tears dripping down her cheeks. Healers and teachers swarmed the pair, clamoring to see the boy-who-lived.
What have we done?
Then a miracle occured on the broken arena floor.
Hermione felt a gentle warm hand wipe away her tears, she lifted her head to see a faintly golden image of Harry rise out of his body. Transparent, yet solid, the image lifted one hand to rest on her shoulder, a gentle and loving smile gracing his features. Tears once again pricked Hermione's eyes as she knew it was her Harry, his soul.
Harry's soul stood up and silence once again reigned, though this silence was rife with awe and wonder. Step by step Harry moved beyond the circle of teachers to stand before the crowd of witches and wizards, much as he had done half and hour earlier.
And he smiled.
It wasn't a happy grin, but a small sad curve but it possessed a deep strength and projected a sense of protection. Then Harry's soul turned slightly to the west and opened a shimmering golden door, barely visible in the sudden stream of sunlight.
The last glimpse Hermione saw of her best friend was his back disappearing into the next adventure. Slowly the twinkling green lights faded into nothing. Letting go of the now cold body, Hermione looked around and was awed by what she saw. For the first time she saw love and compassion, accompanied by sorrow and shame, on the faces of the wizarding world around her. She bowed her head, wiping the last tear from her eyes.
He had brought humanity back to the wizards, his song cleared the veil of hatred, jealousy, and fear.
Thank you Harry, for opening their blind eyes.
AN: And that's the end. Wish you well in whatever reading endeavors you pursue on your next adventure.
StarLightBooks609
