Chasing Butterflies
By Firenze
A/N: Despite this cheerful title, this is a drama fic. You know what that means. *Ducks as tomatoes are thrown* It's time to apply my writing skills, which as you know, are similar to UFOs and smart blondes: you hear about them, but never see them. Come on, no offense to blondes, I'm just trying to crack a few jokes before I try (and fail miserably) at writing a sad fic. None of my friends or I can do it, it's like some kind of curse that runs with us. Of course, my other friends are too shy and won't even post their fics (besides Fawkes, but it took forever to persuade her), so they don't have to worry.
Well, this is just another attempt at expanding my writing style type, which are normally cute, little, fluffy romance fics. Don't flame me too bad for this, because this was an honest attempt at a serious fic, and it's about ninety-something degrees in Southern California. Oh yeah, this is like a songfic, but I put about 7 different songs in it and split them up and mixed them around. Interesting, don't you think? Maybe I should make a soundtrack or something! Just kidding. All right, all right, on with the fic, you can hear more (less insane) rambling from me when you're done reading the story.
* : ~ * : ~ * : ~ * : ~ * : ~ * : ~ * : ~ * : ~ * : ~ * : ~
Chasing butterflies. At one time or another, we've all done it, right? It's an endless chase, and we can never seem to catch them. Why do we do it then? It's like a waste of time on our part, and we're just annoying the poor creatures. Graceful, delicate, a true picture of beauty… Perhaps that's what strikes us to pursue them.
Imagine, what if we ever did catch one? What would be done then? The adventure, the fun would be all gone. You'd simply hold it in your hands for a few seconds to admire it, but then you'd realize you have to let it back go. So maybe that's what's so intriguing about it. The joy of capturing a butterfly is simply watching it fly away.
Even if you refused to let it go, you know it just doesn't belong. Caging a butterfly is wrong. Like some unspoken rule or law, but we all seem to understand it anyway. Trapping something so innocent and beautiful is like shooting a swan. But also like shooting swans, we know we shouldn't, but we do. They say if you hold a butterfly tightly in your hands, it will die. You have to let it go free. And if you don't it will probably find a way to escape anyhow. Butterflies are mysterious creatures.
Like a butterfly cupped in my hands
I peek in to see beauty trapped
Confined it flutters
Then it leaves behind colorful dust
To remind us of the special times we've spent
But of course, it has to leave my clutch
Because enough's never enough to make a dent
It's too late now
I don't think it can fade
It's too real now
Fulfillment just adds fuel to the blaze
That lyric is very true. Now the reader is probably asking what butterflies have anything to do with this. Well, they don't. In this case, this is a metaphor, and the case is not about butterflies, but humans. One thing, however, always stays the same. In the end, you have to let them go free. That's what this story is about.
Because I, Hermione Granger, needed to understand that.
* : ~ * : ~ * : ~ * : ~ * : ~ * : ~ * : ~ * : ~ * : ~ * : ~
I suppose it all started a few weeks ago. Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and I were relaxing in the grassy banks under the shade of a large tree by the lake. We had not a single care in the world, as we chatted, sniffed flowers, blew dandelions, ands just basked in the beauty of the day. I saw a beautiful black and emerald butterfly, and I had the urge to chase it.
Our only threat? Yet another death omen in store for Harry. And this was even less likely: his final fall would have nothing to do with Voldemort. We were skeptical…okay, we had no shadow of a doubt that it was the most pitiful excuse for a death omen that Trelawny had ever produced. We agree she was loosing her mind or her touch. Probably both. Ron said she could have been original, like his head would get sliced off or something. Her reason for his death? The failure of machinery. That was probably the funniest joke that day. None of us ever stopped to think that she might have been right.
We didn't think either, that this beautiful spring day might be the last pleasant day we've ever had together. The weather was absolutely perfect: sunny, a slight breeze, and a few puffy white clouds. We had no more homework, our final exams gone and done, no Quidditch practices or matches to worry about anymore after we had won the Cup, or anything holding us down that was school-related. No arguments or fights with each other, or any problems with arch-rivals or their pathetic goons, a certain Potions Master, or old caretaker and his stupid cat. It was truly the most perfect day we had ever had with each other.
No one, except the Headmaster Albus Dumbledore and our loony Divination teacher, even noticed those insignificant, tiny gray clouds far off in the sky. Nobody else knew that once we had reached a peak, everything would soon go spiraling downhill from there.
* : ~ * : ~ * : ~ * : ~ * : ~ * : ~ * : ~ * : ~ * : ~ * : ~
One minute, we're in school, the next we're on holiday. It didn't really feel any different, and no one suspected anything of really happening. That was the problem. Since nothing bad had happened, we all thought that it would stay that way forever. And a bunch of stupid mistakes like that really build up. With gymnastics for example, you can do everything without a fault, but it's those careless little errors and missteps that add up and can cause you to lose.
Ron and I had nothing to do at all. Except maybe laze around our houses and write letters about nothing in particular to each other. But Harry…Harry was going on his first trip out of England, and he was very excited. Granted, it was only Wales, not exactly the most exotic, desired, furthest destination, but at least it was a start. The Dursleys even allowing him to come along, let alone even speaking a word to him was too much to bear. Harry called it "a once in a lifetime vacation." No one took it literally. No one remembered that quote either, "life sucks no matter what, so don't be fooled by location changes."
I felt doubtful though. Something just didn't feel right. A gut feeling, but strong, and incredibly hard to ignore, no matter what I did. I wanted to be happy for Harry, but something held me back. Those small, gray clouds in the background were steadily growing larger… In our black and white world, we were approaching a gray area.
Dear Hermione,
I can't believe it! I've pinched myself many times to wake myself up from this wonderful dream, but all that resulted in was a few painful spots and marks. So this is real, huh? I truly can't deny it. I have this gut feeling. Everything will be perfectly fine. So don't worry!
Harry
Ironic, it really is. His final words to me? I have this gut feeling…everything will be perfectly fine…don't worry. So I believed him. That wasn't just unthinking on my part, it might have been one of the biggest mistakes I've ever made.
* : ~ * : ~ * : ~ * : ~ * : ~ * : ~ * : ~ * : ~ * : ~ * : ~
A week had passed since Harry's departure, and he should have been back home in a day or two. As I nervously checked my calendar and my mailbox for any word from him, I was disappointed. Those two days dragged by slowly…and I still wasn't sure if he was back yet. But the rest of vacation was going on and on, and still, nothing. Either he didn't want to talk to me, or something was desperately wrong.
I was explaining this all to my Muggle friend Anita on the telephone, when an owl I didn't recognize swooped in. Attached to its claw was a small envelope, and my heart skipped a beat. Maybe whoever it was from had heard from Harry! I told Anita to hang on, and eagerly tore open the letter. And then, as I read it, my spirits dropped lower and lower, until it fell like a 500-foot plunge.
Dear Hermione Granger,
The professors at Hogwarts have given me the duty of spreading the word, since they say I'm one of the biggest gossips in the school. This letter is just to let you know – to let you know…what I'm about to tell you, and then they'll give you the official notice afterwards. Professor Dumbledore and McGonagall just wanted you to hear it from a friend first. This is about Harry and his trip to Ireland. Him and the Dursleys were driving, and then a tractor-trailer carrying cement careened into their car and five other vehicles. It dragged them to a nearby gas station, and there, they all exploded.
Professor Trelawny was right. Harry's death had nothing to do with Voldemort. It was the failure of machinery. The reason the tractor-trailer crashed was because the brakes didn't work. I know this is really hard to accept. I was crying for the longest time, and I've finally collected myself enough to write and tell you. You were probably one of the closest people to Harry. I know I'm a gossip, and you probably don't believe me, but trust me, Lavender and I don't gossip about this kind of stuff. This is really serious. Soon, you should be getting a letter about the funeral and all. I'm really sorry.
Parvati Patil
The letter dropped from my hands, which were shaking. But I wasn't crying. Denial, I suppose. I couldn't understand; I couldn't believe it. Or maybe I was forcing myself not to. I calmly explained this to Anita, but she had no idea who Harry, the Dursleys, Parvati, Professor Trelawny, Dumbledore, or McGonagall were. She was still sad, and if we ever found at that Parvati had just heard this from someone else, who heard it from another person, who found out from someone else, we would have to hurt her badly.
The sun is shining,
But I don't feel the rays
The boats are sailing
But I don't want to play
I don't think I can make itWithout youI don't think I can make it Without you
I feel so empty inside. There's just no emotion, and I'm like a hollow shell, not really letting anything sink in. Anita and I talked a little more, but the conversation was dead–- over there. I received an owl from Ron instantly. Parvati had owled him to. The owl that came to me wasn't Pigwidgeon or Errol, so I think Percy actually let him use Hermes. His letter was dull as I expected it to be. Neither of us could believe it at all.
Feeling numb, I reached in my desk drawer, and pulled out the neglected journal. I promised to write in here forever, but I only had a single sentence, not even enough to count as a journal entry. I took out a pen and started to write.
4:20 pm, Tuesday, July 12, 1996
The last time I wrote in here was ages ago, when we took that field trip. I can't believe it. Parvati Patil just owled me when I was talking on the phone to Anita. She told me that Harry and Dudley, Vernon, and Petunia died in Ireland. They were in a car crash or something and their car blew up. I couldn't even bring myself to read all the details, but I don't think she was joking. She said she had a lot of people to tell, and she owled Ron too.
That really isn't something to joke about. Ron, even Anita, and I will personally beat her up if she is. I was really quiet for a long time, unsure of how to feel. I still am. I mean, I still feel exactly the same, but just weird. I should be crying or sad or something.
I want to write a poem or maybe a story about the times we've had, so I can remember…but instead of looking back and smiling, I'm regretting all the things we didn't do together or never had the chance to. The conversations missed, trips never taken, adventures I persuaded us not to do… Then I did remember the old days, but only the arguments and fights we had. It makes me feel worse. He's one of the first friends I've ever had at Hogwarts. He had all of my classes, except for Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. Regrets are running through my head, and I don't know what to do.
If I thought I was bored and lonely before, there's now a strong urge to see everyone else even more and talk about it and everything else. I wonder what they'll do at Hogwarts. I've always wondered, but never wanted it to happen. I think it will be like the time with Cedric, but maybe more sad and…I don't know. As I said a million times, this is too strange.
Hermione
Over the next few days, I've added fifteen more pages to my journal. But life is going on as normal. I never thought I'd see this day, so I'm not prepared to handle it. I got the notice from Hogwarts, but I didn't bother to read it. Harry's funeral is next Monday at 10:00 am. I'm not going to go. I just can't. Mum and dad keep telling me to, and everyone else is, but if I can't accept this, how can I go to the funeral?
Funerals are miserable, sad times. I don't think it should be that way. A celebration of life, right? Something like that? Mourning doesn't seem right for Harry. And he wouldn't even be at that funeral, since they couldn't find anyone's body in the explosion, just ashes and bits of scorched bones. I can't believe it, the last time I ever saw him was on the last day from school. We left the Hogwarts Express and said our goodbyes. I didn't even kiss him on the cheek at least, or a hug. Just a simple wave and a promise to write occasionally.
Sorry I never told you
All I wanted to say
Now it's too late to hold you
'Cause you've flown away
So far away
I can't get over this. When I checked my watch, I realized that the funeral was now over, and everyone probably wondered why I wasn't there. My excuse was that my parents wouldn't let me. Quite the opposite. I have to get past this; I have to let go. But I can't. People say, "can't means won't." I think that's true. It seems like everything I watch on the television is about death and funerals. It seems like the entire world, even the Muggles, are mourning his death, because it hangs so thick in the air. I don't know if I can make it.
I live life in luxuryBut I believe it's a crimeWhen you can't enjoy itAnd all the time cryOr maybe some kind of spell'Cause it feels like a curseWhen there's so much waterBut all the time thirst I don't think I can make itWithout youI don't think I can make itWithout you
After that, I hardly had the desire to live, myself. My flame of life was completely gone. Never had I thought Harry was the person who really kept me alive. I had so much trouble sleeping that I had to take a ton of sleeping pills, I stayed in my room and did nothing all day, I hardly ate anything, never talked to anyone through the phone, owls, or just plain face to face, and I was a total wreck.
I looked in the mirror once, and I didn't see myself at all. I still wasn't crying, but I was bad enough with or without them anyway. Then what did I do? I broke the mirror. Seven years of bad luck will just add to the seven I've almost already had at Hogwarts.
'Cause the girl my the mirror,
Is crying in tonight,
And there's nothing I can tell her,
To make her feel alright,
Oh, the girl in my mirror,
Is crying 'cause of you,
And I wish there was something,
Something I could do
I heard Mum and Dad considering getting me therapy. That would really help, wouldn't it? But I hated therapists and psychologists and people who could read you mind. Why couldn't I just get over it? Harry was gone, and he wasn't coming back. I even knew that, but why did I refuse to believe it? His spirit lingers, but he's not here anymore. Finally, I just had to fake my sanity, and it convinced my parents, but not myself. I didn't believe in heaven or hell anymore; if your dead, you're just gone.
A few days after his funeral, I had a dream as I finally drifted off to sleep. I was running from something. Or chasing after something else. Then I realized it was the day Harry, Ron, and I had agreed as perfect. And the butterfly I was chasing was the black and emerald one I had refused to run after that time. Then, the entire sky turned gray, those tiny clouds growing rapidly and enveloping it. And then I miraculously caught the butterfly between my hands. Ron and Harry told me to let it go over and over, and then the space in between my hands starting to glow a bright green. The two of them kept mouthing to let it go, but I couldn't. Finally, Harry walked over, took my hands in his, and parted them. He began to glow green too, and suddenly, he merged with the butterfly and they became one. Then he flew away, up to heaven, as the clouds turned white and parted for him to go through. I was looking up, calling at Harry to come back to me, when I awoke with a start.
Normally, if you dream of a butterfly in the sun, it means happiness. I wish. To dream of chasing a butterfly means you are surrounded by unfortunate influences. Boy is that true. And to catch it means infidelity or betrayal. I don't know about that one, but I learned this stuff from the Divination books. Which can be true sometimes; I had learned the hard way.
Because of this dream, heaven became real to me again. That's where everyone was, wasn't it? Everyone who Voldemort had killed, except maybe Quirrell and the other Death Eaters, was in heaven. Then I started to have crazy, maniacal thoughts. If I killed myself now, and I saw no reason not to, nobody cared about me, then I could join Harry again. Death couldn't be that bad, could it? Just what I would have to go through to be with him again.
And I know you're shining down on me from heaven
Like so many friends we've lost along the way
And I know eventually we'll be together
One sweet day
Something was at my window; I saw it flash in the moonlight. I walked over, slowly opened it, and an emerald and black butterfly flew in. Was it the butterfly, from that day, from my dream? It seemed exactly alike, but I didn't have much time to examine it. I reached over to shut my window, but a breeze closed the window automatically, and when I turned around, the butterfly was gone. The ghost, or just some odd apparition, of Harry Potter stood in its place. I gasped. Was it really him?
He motioned me to him, mouthing words I couldn't hear. I wanted to hug him, but I went right through. He stared in my eyes for a while. "You have to stay with me," I said weakly, my eyes burning.
If I loved you a little bit longer
If I loved you a little bit stronger
Would you stay, stay?
Baby please stay
If I granted all of your wishes,
Gave you more than touches and kisses
Would you stay, stay?
I need you to stay
He shook his head sadly. Finally, my tears flowed freely. Harry held his hand up, and when one of my tears fell through it, he suddenly became real. I have no idea where that came from. Ever hear, "if only tears could bring you back to me?" Wow, that was strange.
"Are you really – really alive?" I asked in shock and joy.
"No," he mouthed, but then I heard it. "I'm not a poltergeist either. I have to tell you something, Hermione." He moved his hand under my chin, and lifted it up for me to face him.
"What, do you have unfinished business?" I joked miserably, still not looking into his eyes, afraid of what I would find. But he made me. And in the reflection of his emerald eyes, I saw myself. I was a wreck, my hair tangled and messy, my eyes sad and red, and tears streaming down my cheeks. A complete wreck. This is how he saw me, but this is entirely opposite of how I wanted our meeting to be.
There's a story in her eyes,
Lullabies and goodbyes,
When she's looking back at me,
I can tell her heart is broken, easily
"I do," he whispered back.
"I shouldn't have let you go. I knew something was wrong," I said, choking on sobs. "If I did, you would still be with me."
He wrapped me in his arms warmly. "I'm with you now, Hermione." Then he bent over and kissed my forehead, while I buried my face in his shoulder. "And there's nothing you could have done. You can't blame yourself. You have to move on. Let me go. Let me go free, so I can fly."
If I could, I would tell her,
Not to be afraid,
The pain that's she feeling,
The sense of loneliness will fade,
So dry your tears and rest assured,
Love will find you like before,
When she's looking back at me,
I know nothing really works that easily
"I'd prefer if you used a broomstick," I murmured, wondering how I could possibly joke at this time.
Harry just gave me a faint smile. "You don't have a say in this. I'm not alive anymore; you have to accept that. I can't stay on Earth forever. I have to go one way or the other."
"Why can't you be a ghost?" I asked miserably. "It wasn't your time."
"But that isn't what makes us a ghost," he replied. "Someday, you'll learn what does. Since I'm not a ghost, I can't stay here with you. I only have a matter of time before I have to go. So I have to finish this now."
Hermione refused to give up. "Without you…how are we supposed to fight You-Know – Voldemort?"
"He was in one of the five cars behind us," Harry said solemnly.
"So he's dead?" she asked, now feeling bittersweet. The Dark Lord was finally gone, but at the cost of her best friend too.
"We always knew it would be this way, right? Even if I did live to a final battle against him, I'd have probably been too weak and had to sacrifice myself anyway. It's better this way, because he can't kill anyone anymore, right?"
"Right," I said, putting my head back down, only to have it lifted up again. "The prophecies were true: in a way, you did bring the final downfall of Lord Voldemort." The name wasn't scary anymore, but then again, I never really feared it. "Just not in the way we expected."
"So you've accepted my death now, Hermione?" he asked seriously.
More tears falling, I managed a slight nod.
"Then can you let go? For me? So I can finally meet my parents?" he asked, crying as hard as I was now.
Again, I forced myself to nod, even though I didn't want to. But this is what was best for Harry. "Dumbledore always said to the well organized mind, death was the next great adventure," I whispered softly.
Harry managed a slight smile. "Thank you. I've always wanted to meet my parents, even if death was the price. At least I tied up all the loose ends and took the Dark Lord with me too. Except he's not going to heaven…" he trailed off and shivered. "It's my time now. And if life was the first adventure, imagine what death will be like. But first – first I have a final thing to say before I can go."
"What is it?" I asked, a million questions running through my mind.
"All the years I've known you…" he said, "I never told you something that I really should have."
"What?" I asked anxiously, wondering what secret he could have kept from me for six whole years. I never expected the answer that he gave.
"I love you," he said very softly.
I never asked for this feeling
I never thought I would fall
I began to sob miserably again. "That makes it harder to let you go." He cupped my chin in his hands and wiped her tears away gently with his thumb. "But…you know how they say you don't know how much you care for something until you lose it? It took your death before I realized that I always loved you too. You'll be the only one I'll ever love."
I never knew how I felt
Till the day you were gone
I was lost
I never asked for red roses
I wasn't looking for love
Somehow I let my emotions take hold
And guess what all at once
I'm in love
"Don't say that," he said sadly. "You have your whole life ahead of you, you can't be living it in the past. I'm not telling you to forget about me. But you have your whole life in front of you. There's plenty of fish in the sea. You'll find someone else. Actually, I'm telling you to. I don't want you to never love anyone or be afraid of loving them because of me. I want what's best for you, and that's to live life to the fullest. I tried to. We know we can't all last forever."
"I understand," I managed to say, because I was pretty much unable to speak, let alone breathe. "I'll miss you."
"Don't look back on me," he said, "but I'll miss you. We'll be reunited once again, Hermione. But it's goodbye for now. I'll be looking forward to that moment when I can be with you again," he breathed and then leaned over and kissed me.
I was so caught up in the moment; it was the last we would have together for a long time, and I wanted it to last forever…but of course, it didn't. Right in the middle of our kiss, he just disappeared into thin air, leaving me to wonder if it had even happened or if I really was losing it.
There are times I swear I know you're here
And I forget about my fears, even you, my dear
Watching over me, my hope sings
Of what the future will bring
When you wrap me in your wings
And take me where you are
Where you and I can breathe together
Once again, we'll be dancing in the moonlight
Just like we used to do
And you'll be smiling back at me
Only then will I be free
When I can be, where you are
You're the only person I've ever loved, Harry Potter. And I'm waiting until I can meet you again. But for your sake, I'll continue to live the rest of my life, be it 40 years or 40 days, to the fullest, even if you're gone. You taught me that, and I won't ever forget it. Because you never really know when death is going to strike, that's for sure. There's no way to expect it.
And oh how I hate what you have done
Made me fall so deep in love
Got no cure
You're the only one I want
That I love oh baby
There's a whole world of other butterflies out there, right? They're all unique in their own way, but you're special. You're irreplaceable and one of a kind. However, since you want me to, I'll go back to chasing butterflies. And if I'm ever so lucky to catch another as close to as good as you were, I'll cherish it. Except this time, because of you, Harry, I'll know when to let it go free.
* : ~ * : ~ * : ~ * : ~ * : ~ * The End * : ~ * : ~ * : ~ * : ~ * : ~*
Dedicated to Benjamin "Little Ben" Fortunato, Jr. & Hazel Fortunato (1987/1988 – September 10, 2000), to whom this story is loosely based on, and also to my great-aunt Celia, who also died a few weeks ago.
Final Notes: Not really a tearjerker, but it's a step closer, isn't it? I don't think it's as bad as Falls Apart or Final Farewell, do you think? Well, like I said, this fic was very loosely based on Ben and Hazel, brother and sister, who were my classmates. The story about the tractor-trailer carrying cement that lost its brakes and crashed, etc. is true, so don't say it can't happen or anything. The entry from Hermione's journal was taken from a part in my journal after I found out about Ben and Hazel's death, so that was pretty special, even though twisted around a bit.
And about the shows on TV having funerals during that week, I swear to god that's true. The Invisible Man (I love that show!) had Hobbes' funeral, even though it was faked, and in Sunday's episode of The Simpsons, it was the one where Mauve Flanders died and they had a funeral with a whole bunch of graves of other dead characters, and I could on and on.
I meant to write a poem or something a lot sooner, but after reading really depressing fics in the Pokémon section, I got this idea (but I have no idea where the Chasing Butterflies thing is from, or even how it turned out to be based on Ben and Hazel. None of this was planned out ahead of time, like all my other fics.) So if you think this is pathetic, go easy on me, three people I know just died, and I'm not exactly in the mood for hearing "You suck!" or "That was pathetic!" even though I know it is. I hadn't meant for it to turn out so cheesy, or to use 7 different songs either, but it happened.
Disclaimer: Oh boy, here's a long one. The songs of course, aren't mine, they're (in order, though most were split up and scattered, except for "Too Late" and "Where You Are") *deep breath*
"Too Late" by No Doubt, Return of Saturn
"Without You" by Lenny Kravitz, 5
"Girl in the Mirror" from Britney Spears
I think it was the McDonald's CD, but they also said it was a bonus track for Oops! …I Did It Again
(Oh, shut up and get over it already; I hate her too. If you think I should have used "Where Are You Now," I was going to, but changed my mind at the last minute)
"Stay" by Destiny's Child, The Writing's On the Wall
"I Miss You So Much" by TLC, Fan Mail
"One Sweet Day" from Mariah Carey featuring Boyz II Men
(I forgot which CD it was on, but it's one of the old ones) Also on Mariah's #1's
"Where You Are" from Jessica Simpson featuring Nick Lachey, Sweet Kisses
And I think that's it! Doing one song for an entire fic is kind of bland, I think, and I was listening to all my CDs again and looking through Lyrics.com. Of course, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Parvati, and all the professors, etc. and "to the well organized mind…" belong not to lowly old me, but to the super-fantabulous J.K. Rowling. The stuff about what a butterfly means in your dreams is from Zolar's Book of Astrology, Dreams, Numbers, & Lucky Days.
Even those lines about holding a butterfly tightly in your hands, life sucks no matter what…, and the black and white world [of ethics] are from Daria (a cool show because I relate to it), and I forgot where "if only tears could bring you back to me" is from. Even the gymnastics line is something I borrowed from the 2000 Sydney Olympics, when the commentators were referring to the U.S. team (who, *sigh*, placed 4th). Let's just say A LOT of lines you recognize aren't mine either. In the midst of this whole thing, I only own Anita, a character who was made up at last minute. Don't sue me; I seriously have no money! No one leaves me stuff in their wills…