Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter
A/N: This is for now just a one-shot. I don't know if I'm going to write further chapters, I just felt the need to write this.
Harry's Deaths
Life is a fleeting thing. It comes, it goes. It brings joy and sadness. But for one Harry James Potter the negative overweighed. He was seventeen, nearly eighteen years old and he had seen more death in his life than any person should.
The first had been Quirrel in his first year at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He hadn't really realized what it was he had done until months later. The concept of death had been too alien for him. As an eleven year old he had had no idea how to deal with the situation. Death was a word for him and he tried as best he could to forget the traumatising events of that day.
The second death had been the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets. Sure, it was no human and it had already killed someone and was likely to kill another, Harry for instance, but it was still a living being with the right to live and to survive.
After he had stabbed the great serpent, he had watched the life drain from Ginny, his best friend's sister. As he did, he thought, she will die. He remembered his own injuries when the pain set in and realized, this is it, I'm going to die. A once so alien thought of death had now become reality and he was scared. But he didn't let it overwhelm him. He took the fang from his arm and stabbed the diary responsible for the whole mess and watched as it died and as Ginny regained her life.
Harry didn't die that night. Fawkes saved him. But he wasn't always so lucky.
In his fourth year Harry was forced to participate in a tournament where he was faced with life or death situations. He survived the competition, but he was not unharmed. He was burned by a dragon in his first year trial, attacked by merpeople during the second and watched someone die in the third. Everything had been going well. No real obstacles had put themselves in his way, with the exception of a sphinx. He and Cedric wanted to share their victory due to circumstances, but when they touched the Triwizard Cup turned portkey they were transported to a graveyard. Cedric was killed by the killing curse instantly.
Harry still shuddered at the memory of Voldemort's resurrection. Cedric's dead eyes still haunted his dreams. Staring at him. Dead, yet so full of emotion. Sadness, grief, shock, and worst of all hate. Harry knew that the other boy didn't hate him, yet the accusation in the dead eyes was repeatedly played in his head, especially after his fourth year.
More things had happened that day. His blood had been used to create a new body for his parents' murderer and the pain of the cruciatus… He had wanted to die, just so he would not have to feel the pain any longer.
During his fifth year had endangered his friends due to his stupidity. The same stupidity that had gotten his godfather killed.
His sixth year came and went, but during that period of time he learned about horcruxes and Tom Riddle, aka Lord Voldemort. He had also forced his beloved headmaster to drink a torturous potion so they could get a locket, a horcrux, which turned out to be a fake. That same night Dumbledore had been killed. By Snape, his vile potions professor. It had turned out he was a spy, a good guy and a former friend of Harry's mother.
His seventh year was worst. He wasn't even able to go to school. Voldemort had taken over the wizarding world. He, Ron and Hermione had spent the year looking for Horcruxes. Everything had been going well, until Hermione fell off the dragon after their break-in at Gringotts. Such a stupid way to die. They had expected to be killed. Tortured and murdered. Maybe even starve or freeze, but not falling off a dragon.
Ron had survived until very near the end. Harry had gone to Voldemort and let him kill him. The horcrux was removed and Harry survived. It happened during the confrontation with the fighters of Hogwarts. Ron had been holding a basilisk fang and when he saw the corpse of his best friend, he had accidentally clenched his fist, letting the dagger sharp fang dig into his skin and letting the poison seep inside the wound.
Now Harry was sitting there, in the Great Hall, unwilling to look at the dead bodies, lying orderly across the floor. It was too painful. He sat leaning against the cold, still standing, wall and let tears trickle down his face.
Why did everyone he loved have to die? Why couldn't he? All those he cared for left him, and what did Harry get in return? He was still a parselmouth. That 'gift' had not disappeared with the horcrux. He was 'Master of Death'. What did that even mean? And was he really?
He had dropped the resurrection stone in the Forbidden forest and had put the elder wand back where it belonged. He still had the invisibility cloak. It hadn't been lost when Hermione fell.
As Harry sat there, staring unseeingly into the air, he was joined by Luna. The blonde Ravenclaw girl sat down next to him and grasped his hand. Harry looked at her and frowned. Something was wrong. But what?
Luna gazed into his eyes and smiled at him. "They are in a better place now, Harry. I know you miss them, but don't you think they deserve peace?"
Luna's voice was eerie. Not its usual dream-like quality, but deeper and older.
That was when he noticed the deep, unbleeding cut across Luna's throat. His eyes widened in realization.
"You're dead." Harry breathed.
Not-Luna smiled sadly at him. "I know. Sleep well my son. When you awake, you will be in new world."
She leaned down and softly kissed Harry's forehead and blackness engulfed him.