A/N: Hello everyone, I know it has been a long time since I have posted anything, but I have decided to post this to let you all know I am still alive and still working on my stories. I simply had a massive case of writers block, and computer troubles, preventing me from getting much done.
This is the first multi-chap of my series The Winter Chronicles, or as I like to call it my Winter-Verse. It has two prequel one-shots, The Lake in the Winter and Winter's Lake. I recommend at least reading The Lake in the Winter first, though both would also be a good idea. Lastly basic info on my Winter-Verse can be found at the bottom of my profile.
If you want to know why this is called the Winter-Verse, and what not, it will be explained eventually so don't bother asking as I wont say. Though you are welcome to guess away at it.
One thing that I am debating is whom to pair Ron and Hermione with, as it stands right now the options are Ron/Hermione or Ron/Fleur and Hermione/Bill. Please give me your thoughts on the matter.
Now this has not been beta'd (well technically it has, but not this version) as I am having trouble with receiving it from my beta, but it will be as soon I can get that worked out. So please ignore the spelling and grammar mistakes until that is worked out, accept for any very glaring ones that you may find.
As of 11/26/14 I have posted the beta'd version of this chapter.
Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter universe, in any way shape or form. What I do own is my OC Alex, and the plot. I also anything else in this story that is not a part of the Harry Potter world or any other world I may barrow from. So no stealing please, and thank you.
Enjoy!
The Return of Winter: Prologue
Harry sat at his kitchen table staring into the fireplace. He was holding an empty bottle of firewhiskey, swing it back and forth absently with two fingers. He felt lousy, worse than he had in a long time. Probably worse than he felt since the war had ended and he had to deal with the deaths of so many people. Many of them were his friends and schoolmates. This time it was different though, it seemed so much more personal. He sighed and let the bottle drop from his hands and roll across the floor, before resting his head on the table. He could feel a headache coming on, and it was not just from having too much to drink.
"Here, drink this," said a voice, alongside the clunk of someone placing a heavy glass object filled with liquid on the table beside his head. "It'll help."
He groaned and looked up to see Ginny, standing beside him. Knowing that there was no use arguing he downed the potion she had supplied him with, grimacing at the horrid taste. He could already feel the effects, starting to remove his slight hangover and headache.
"Thanks."
She nodded in reply, eying his appearance with small frown on her face. "You look like shite."
He chuckled dryly, his heart not really into it. "You never really were one for formalities were you?" He ignored her slight glare and changed the subject, losing all semblance of cheer. "How is she?"
Ginny sighed, "Not good... well she is stable, but she fell into a coma. Beyond that I can't really say. She is healing, but there is no telling when or if she will ever wake."
His expression darkened at the thought. "She'd better, or I will bring her back, and kill her myself."
Ginny gave a slight giggle at that, but it was just as empty as Harry's. She placed a comforting hand on his arm. "You should go to bed, you've had a rough day, and your going to need you're strength tomorrow." At his quizzical eyebrow she elaborated, "Dumbledore got wind of what happened and is going to be dropping by tomorrow."
He dropped his head into his hands. "Great, just what I bloody well need, him to come prying and messing in my business."
She patted his arm comfortingly, "Don't worry, I'll still be here. You won't have to face him alone."
"Thanks," he gave her a slight-almost smile, before standing. Stretching his arms to try and relieve his achy muscles he asked, "Would it be alright if I see her?"
Ginny nodded, a sad smile on her face. "It wont do any harm, but she won't be able to respond to anything you say. Besides," she said, as she rose from her seat as well, "it would probably do you some good." She went and gave him a reassuring hug, which he gladly accepted. Pulling back from him, she gave him a pointed look. "Go on, you can't put it off forever."
He sighed, and nodded. "I suppose you're right."
"Of course I am. After all, I'm always right."
He shook his head at her in slight amusement, before his thoughts returned to the matter at hand, which quickly drained away any amusement he had been feeling. He spent a couple more minutes dawdling with Ginny before heading upstairs. He paused once he reached the door to the guest bedroom and stared at the door for a long moment. Images flashed through his mind, many of his childhood, some more recent, up until the previous evening. When it all had happened. He swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump that had formed in his throat. Stealing his nerves he opened the door and walked into the room.
His eyes wondered over to the still figure on the bed. She looked a lot better than she had when he had last seen her. She was no longer deathly pale and covered in blood, but she was still unnaturally still. He could see the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, but other than that she made no movement. It was rather unnerving to see her this way. It made everything seem a lot more real. He dropped into the chair beside the bed, feeling suddenly very drained. His eyes never leaving her face. Tears that he had been fighting off all night started to leak there way down his cheeks, but he rubbed them away angrily. Now was not the time. He wouldn't... no he couldn't let himself break down here.
After several minutes of staring at her in silence he spoke, even though he knew that there would be no reply. "Why?" his voice was hoarse and dry sounding, and the lump in his throat only made it harder for him to speak. "After all that. After everything that we went through together you have to go and do this to me. Why?!" He slammed his fists into the beside him, anger and resentment now seeping in. It didn't last long, leaving him as quickly as it had arrived, and making him feel twice as drained as before. "Why?" this time it came out in only a whisper. "I need you, you have always been there for me in your bizarre way. But dammit Alex, you can't leave me. Not now. I still need you." With those final words the tears and pain that he had been holding back were unleashed.
After what felt like an eternity, but could only have been a few moments, he felt slim arms wrap there way around his waist. He turned into the embrace of his wife and cried harder. She didn't say any, just gently coaxed him and guided him into their room once his sobbing subsided. As soon as his head hit the pillow of their bed he knew no more.
The next morning Harry woke to find himself alone in bed. Though, that was often the case, as she was always a very early riser. What she did in the morning he wasn't entirely certain, as he was the one that did the cooking – everything she made usually turned out to be rather inedible. One thing was for sure, though, he didn't want to know. It would likely turn out to be something that would make his head spin. He chuckled softly, it was one of her many oddities, but he loved her all the more for them. His laughter ended swiftly as he remembered yesterday's events.
He continued to lay in bed for several minutes, not wanting to get up, but knowing that he needed to. Finally deciding he had put it off long enough he rose from bed, and mechanically went through his normal morning routine. When he was nearly finished he glanced at the clock, and froze. It was later than he realized, almost noon. He was usually awake at six, seven at the most. It appeared he wouldn't have long before his old headmaster arrived for their little 'chat'. 'If the old man wasn't already here,' he thought wryly. He wouldn't put anything past Dumbledore at this point. With a sigh he headed to the kitchen.
He was surprised to catch the smell of bacon, even more surprising was the fact that it smelled nothing like any of his wife's cooking attempts. The smells of her food always turned out to be rather... interesting, to put it mildly.
His confusion was put to a rest as he saw petite red-head working at the stove. A small smile formed on his face, despite the gloom that still settled over his mood. Luna was sitting at the table, working on a new article for the Quibbler, and Ginny was at the stove.
"Morning," he said, going into the room, he took the open seat beside Luna and kissed her on the cheek. "That smells good, Ginny. Did you spend the night?'
"I did," she replied, carrying breakfast to the table. "I felt you would need my support, and I still need to periodically check up on my patient."
He nodded in reply, before digging into breakfast. He hadn't realized just how hungry he was. Yesterday had been so chaotic that the only meal he ate was breakfast, not to mention last night he didn't feel up to eating at all.
The shock of what happened was finally starting to wear off, but the regret was still there in full. He found it reassuring to know that his wife and closest friends were here to back him up, even after finding out the secrets he kept from them. Though, with Luna, he thought with a slight amusement, it was rather hard to keep secrets from her. Even so, having her support made him feel much better.
His musings were cut short by the flaring of floo, announcing the arrival of a visitor, just a moment before Albus Dumbledore stepped out of the fireplace. He was smiling in his usual genial manner but Harry noticed the distinct lack of the twinkle in Hogwarts' Headmaster's eyes.
Luna laid a comforting hand on Harry's arm. "Do you want us to stay?"
Harry, looked at her and thought about it for a moment, before shaking his head. "No, I need to this alone."
She nodded, and after exchanging a glance with Ginny the two of them left the room.
Harry gestured to the chair across from, and said with false cheer, "Please have a seat Albus. Would you like something to eat?"
Dumbledore declined the offer of food, but took the seat, turning from jovial to serious, "Harry, I am most disappointed in you."