DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of this, that belongs to J.K Rowling (lucky
woman!), except for the plot... and Sylannae... she's mine as well.
I am just a worthless liar. I am just an imbecile. I will only complicate you. Trust in me and fall as well. I will find a center in you. I will chew it up and leave, I will work to elevate you just enough to bring you down.
~Tool, Sober
Chapter One - Dead Bodies and Departed Souls
She walked slowly towards the body... it was pale, and blue in some places. *dead?* she thought to herself quickly as she crouched in the middle of the battlefield. Taking the limp arm, she curled her fingers under the wrist and tried desperately to find a pulse. It grunted, twitching at the touch of a warm hand.
His eyes opened, focusing badly until he blinked a few times. Everything ached in his body, even his mind. There was a slight probing sensation in the back of his head, as though someone was pushing to get in and then in a sudden interest, it all came back to him. The war, the blood, his own death. *but I'm not dead* he thought confused as he saw the young woman before him.
***
"It won't be long 'Mione." Ron puffed, running into the Great Hall.
They should have been out partying, after all, Voldemort had been decimated, by Harry of course, but still, he was never going to come back, and they should have been partying. Instead, they sat in the Great Hall, waiting for Harry to come back. He was in the hospital wing, having a few bruises and aches repaired, and more than a few stitches applied to gashes and cuts in his skin.
"Is he alright?" Hermione asked, worried for her best-friend.
"He'll do fine, but he's going to need some looking after... for the rest of his life." Ron replied, whispering the last six words.
"Is he coming down on his own?" Hermione asked.
"No, he can't." Ron said, eyes fixed on the doors.
There was a bang as the doors front doors in the Entrance Hall flung open, and a young woman ran in, carrying a very pale figure. She obviously knew where to go, because she ran straight up the stairs to the hospital wing.
"Another close to death." Hermione muttered.
"There are too many of them." Ron sighed, shaking his head.
"What were you expecting when we finalized plans to take Voldemort off the planet?" Hermione asked.
"Off the planet?" Harry asked, walking in slowly, Minerva McGonagall guiding him.
"Harry." Hermione whispered, jumping up and closing him in a long hug.
"Hermione... I..." Harry started, sitting down after she had finally let go.
"You're blind." Hermione said sadly, "You've lost all colour in your eyes."
Harry nodded slowly, a tear dripping from his colourless eyes and splashing on the cold stone floor.
"That's alright Harry, we can help you, it's not like we have anything else to do." Ron urged.
Harry smiled, "Guys, you have a life together to have, enjoy it while you can. I can find somewhere peaceful, and finally start to live my life the way I've always wanted to be since coming to Hogwarts... quietly."
"No Harry. We're going to look after you, even if I have to baby you." Hermione persisted.
"Yeah, we can't leave you alone." Ron agreed.
"Yes you can. Harry can survive on his own now. He may be blind, but there is more than one type of sight." Said a velvety voice in Harry's defense.
In the doorway to the Great Hall stood a young woman, around their age. Her bright purple hair was in tiny plaits, all over her head, and where her pupils should have been the only black in her eyes, hers were fully black, and small yellow stars moved, as though inside her eyes. She wore a long black dress, hugging tightly to her hips as they swayed when she walked towards them.
"Syl?" Hermione asked.
"Herm, nice to see you again, and you Ron. Albus told me what happened, and I thought I might come down and make sure you aren't pushing Harry into being cared for like a child." The young woman remarked, her black lips forming a slight smile.
"I thought you were..." Ron muttered.
"No, I was on a mission for Albus, and the only way I could perform it was if you all thought me dead." She said, leaning on one of the nearby chairs.
"What're you doing here?" Harry asked, looking directly at her.
"You should be able to read the answer to that." She smiled, "I found someone on the battlefield, barely alive. I brought him in for Poppy to help."
"Oliver." Harry whispered.
She nodded, "I thought he was dead at first, but there was still a glimmer of hope. Poppy says it will be awhile before I can go back and see him again."
"Oh Sylannae, I'm so sorry." Hermione whispered, moving to hug her as the outlandish-looking woman started to sob gently.
"It... It's alright Herm. I'm just glad he's not dead, no matter the past." Sylannae said, wiping away the lone tears.
***
Sylannae had moved to England from Australia when she was 15, and started at Hogwarts in her sixth year. Being sorted into Gryffindor, meant that she met Hermione, Harry and Ron, and became good friends with them. The one thing she had that they didn't was her telepathic and psychic abilities, which had been passed onto her from her great-grandmother. In more recent years, her abilities had come into great use against a common enemy, and after she was asked by Albus Dumbledore, to spy on Voldemort, in their last year at Hogwarts, she faked her death so that she could leave without distraction. That was where she had been for the last three years, and now, although she knew she shouldn't have, she came back to right the wrongs she had done.
In their last year at Hogwarts, Oliver had taken over the position as Flying teacher, and Sylannae had become very close to him in that year. As a couple, everyone said they were perfect for each other, but when she faked her own death, she hadn't even told Oliver what she was doing. She knew this had hurt him greatly.
***
"How are you feeling Harry?" Sylannae asked after breakfast the next day.
"I woke up with a bit of a headache, but it seems to be subsiding now." Harry smiled to her.
"Maybe we should see what's going on in your head, if you don't mind." Sylannae suggested, "That way you'll know what you can do."
Harry nodded and turned in the chair to face her, focusing only on her. Sylannae closed her eyes, breathing slowly and started to push her mind into his, melding the two to find what she was looking for.
It was dim, the corridor made of a substance Sylannae couldn't place, and every few hundred metres, there was a large wooden door. At random, Sylannae chose one, opening it slowly and peeking inside. The first few were only memories, and then, she came across one that looked familiar. The doors shone with light, as though the wood was light itself. Placing her palm on the door, she smiled, this was where his power was, within this room. She looked down at the door, and noticing no handle, tried to push it with her hand. It wouldn't budge.
"Keenansa Demonitra, heno putra openus." She whispered, pushing gently on the door.
She was thrown back by the force, her body lying flaccidly on the stone floor of the Great Hall. Her head had hit the stone first, breaking the movement.
"Sylannae!" Ron cried, rushing over.
________________________________________________________________________ A/N: Hope you like. Please review, throw ideas at me so I can continue writing please?? I live for reviews, so that I can write another chapter! ________________________________________________________________________
I am just a worthless liar. I am just an imbecile. I will only complicate you. Trust in me and fall as well. I will find a center in you. I will chew it up and leave, I will work to elevate you just enough to bring you down.
~Tool, Sober
Chapter One - Dead Bodies and Departed Souls
She walked slowly towards the body... it was pale, and blue in some places. *dead?* she thought to herself quickly as she crouched in the middle of the battlefield. Taking the limp arm, she curled her fingers under the wrist and tried desperately to find a pulse. It grunted, twitching at the touch of a warm hand.
His eyes opened, focusing badly until he blinked a few times. Everything ached in his body, even his mind. There was a slight probing sensation in the back of his head, as though someone was pushing to get in and then in a sudden interest, it all came back to him. The war, the blood, his own death. *but I'm not dead* he thought confused as he saw the young woman before him.
***
"It won't be long 'Mione." Ron puffed, running into the Great Hall.
They should have been out partying, after all, Voldemort had been decimated, by Harry of course, but still, he was never going to come back, and they should have been partying. Instead, they sat in the Great Hall, waiting for Harry to come back. He was in the hospital wing, having a few bruises and aches repaired, and more than a few stitches applied to gashes and cuts in his skin.
"Is he alright?" Hermione asked, worried for her best-friend.
"He'll do fine, but he's going to need some looking after... for the rest of his life." Ron replied, whispering the last six words.
"Is he coming down on his own?" Hermione asked.
"No, he can't." Ron said, eyes fixed on the doors.
There was a bang as the doors front doors in the Entrance Hall flung open, and a young woman ran in, carrying a very pale figure. She obviously knew where to go, because she ran straight up the stairs to the hospital wing.
"Another close to death." Hermione muttered.
"There are too many of them." Ron sighed, shaking his head.
"What were you expecting when we finalized plans to take Voldemort off the planet?" Hermione asked.
"Off the planet?" Harry asked, walking in slowly, Minerva McGonagall guiding him.
"Harry." Hermione whispered, jumping up and closing him in a long hug.
"Hermione... I..." Harry started, sitting down after she had finally let go.
"You're blind." Hermione said sadly, "You've lost all colour in your eyes."
Harry nodded slowly, a tear dripping from his colourless eyes and splashing on the cold stone floor.
"That's alright Harry, we can help you, it's not like we have anything else to do." Ron urged.
Harry smiled, "Guys, you have a life together to have, enjoy it while you can. I can find somewhere peaceful, and finally start to live my life the way I've always wanted to be since coming to Hogwarts... quietly."
"No Harry. We're going to look after you, even if I have to baby you." Hermione persisted.
"Yeah, we can't leave you alone." Ron agreed.
"Yes you can. Harry can survive on his own now. He may be blind, but there is more than one type of sight." Said a velvety voice in Harry's defense.
In the doorway to the Great Hall stood a young woman, around their age. Her bright purple hair was in tiny plaits, all over her head, and where her pupils should have been the only black in her eyes, hers were fully black, and small yellow stars moved, as though inside her eyes. She wore a long black dress, hugging tightly to her hips as they swayed when she walked towards them.
"Syl?" Hermione asked.
"Herm, nice to see you again, and you Ron. Albus told me what happened, and I thought I might come down and make sure you aren't pushing Harry into being cared for like a child." The young woman remarked, her black lips forming a slight smile.
"I thought you were..." Ron muttered.
"No, I was on a mission for Albus, and the only way I could perform it was if you all thought me dead." She said, leaning on one of the nearby chairs.
"What're you doing here?" Harry asked, looking directly at her.
"You should be able to read the answer to that." She smiled, "I found someone on the battlefield, barely alive. I brought him in for Poppy to help."
"Oliver." Harry whispered.
She nodded, "I thought he was dead at first, but there was still a glimmer of hope. Poppy says it will be awhile before I can go back and see him again."
"Oh Sylannae, I'm so sorry." Hermione whispered, moving to hug her as the outlandish-looking woman started to sob gently.
"It... It's alright Herm. I'm just glad he's not dead, no matter the past." Sylannae said, wiping away the lone tears.
***
Sylannae had moved to England from Australia when she was 15, and started at Hogwarts in her sixth year. Being sorted into Gryffindor, meant that she met Hermione, Harry and Ron, and became good friends with them. The one thing she had that they didn't was her telepathic and psychic abilities, which had been passed onto her from her great-grandmother. In more recent years, her abilities had come into great use against a common enemy, and after she was asked by Albus Dumbledore, to spy on Voldemort, in their last year at Hogwarts, she faked her death so that she could leave without distraction. That was where she had been for the last three years, and now, although she knew she shouldn't have, she came back to right the wrongs she had done.
In their last year at Hogwarts, Oliver had taken over the position as Flying teacher, and Sylannae had become very close to him in that year. As a couple, everyone said they were perfect for each other, but when she faked her own death, she hadn't even told Oliver what she was doing. She knew this had hurt him greatly.
***
"How are you feeling Harry?" Sylannae asked after breakfast the next day.
"I woke up with a bit of a headache, but it seems to be subsiding now." Harry smiled to her.
"Maybe we should see what's going on in your head, if you don't mind." Sylannae suggested, "That way you'll know what you can do."
Harry nodded and turned in the chair to face her, focusing only on her. Sylannae closed her eyes, breathing slowly and started to push her mind into his, melding the two to find what she was looking for.
It was dim, the corridor made of a substance Sylannae couldn't place, and every few hundred metres, there was a large wooden door. At random, Sylannae chose one, opening it slowly and peeking inside. The first few were only memories, and then, she came across one that looked familiar. The doors shone with light, as though the wood was light itself. Placing her palm on the door, she smiled, this was where his power was, within this room. She looked down at the door, and noticing no handle, tried to push it with her hand. It wouldn't budge.
"Keenansa Demonitra, heno putra openus." She whispered, pushing gently on the door.
She was thrown back by the force, her body lying flaccidly on the stone floor of the Great Hall. Her head had hit the stone first, breaking the movement.
"Sylannae!" Ron cried, rushing over.
________________________________________________________________________ A/N: Hope you like. Please review, throw ideas at me so I can continue writing please?? I live for reviews, so that I can write another chapter! ________________________________________________________________________
