Title: Those You've Known
Author: IndigoNight
Summary: In the end, Harry was alone, or was he? The last battle with Voldemort, will love triumph?
Feedback: Yes please, yay reviews!
Pairing: None
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the characters I'm just borrowing them for fun, also I don't own the song lyrics at the beginning and end, those are from the play Spring Awakening.
Spoilers: Nope, not really
Warnings: Not really
Author's Note: So, just a randomly inspired by this song, and had to write it. Its short, random, and angsty. Read, Review, Enjoy.
Enjoy!
Those you've known
And lost, still walk behind you
All alone
They linger till they find you
Without them
The world grows dark around you
And nothing is the same until you know that they have found you
Alone. He was alone. Completely, entirely, wholly, unavoidably, painfully, crushingly, alone.
They were gone, every last one of them. He'd been helpless as one by one they'd all been taken from him. And then there were none.
Harry Potter, The boy who lived, was the only one left.
He sat there, still as stone, stiff backed and numb in the same tattered, ragged, now charred and broken, over stuffed armchair that for years he had sat in, surrounded by his friends, laughing, joking, doing there homework. But no more. Hogwarts was no more. Only the burned, broken, forlorn shell of lifeless stone remained of the great and noble refuge, its life had been seeped away slowly, bit by bit as those it had sheltered faded away into the great beyond.
Harry didn't even move when he sensed the presence behind him.
"Come to fight me yourself?" he said quietly, knowing who stood behind him without needing to look, "Run out of Death Eaters to hide behind, have you?" His only answer was a cold, hissing chuckle.
"Its time to end this, Harry," Voldemort told him.
"So it is," Harry agreed quietly, standing from his chair and turning to face his nemesis. He held his wand loosely at his side, his body automatically sliding into a easy, ready stance. His eyes were level, his hand firm. He had cried his tears, and now his resolve was firm.
"I must say, Harry," Voldemort said, slowly beginning to pace around him. Harry didn't twitch. "You have proved a worthy adversary."
Harry said nothing. He was used to this game by now, and he was tired of it. He simply stood, ready, waiting, his eyes subtly tracking his enemy's movements.
"It is a pity this had to drag out for so long," the dark lord continued, "That so many innocent people had to die before it came to this."
"You would know," Harry said stiffly, "You killed them."
"They died protecting you, Harry," Voldemort reminded him cuttingly. Harry's only visible reaction was a tightening in the line of his jaw. "Do put up a good fight, will you Harry?" a thin, emotionless smirk spread across Voldemort's pale lips, "It would be a shame for their deaths to have been completely pointless." And without another beat the fight began.
Compared to many of the other battles that had been fought throughout the long, desperate war, this battle was nothing spectacular. It was almost subdued. Voldemort would shot a spell at Harry, Harry would dodge it, and return with one of his own. There was no excessive yelling, or running around. No desperation, no pleading, the air wasn't electrically charged with the hatred between the two epic adversaries. This story was not going out with a bang, it could almost be said to be anti-climatic.
Neither was in much of a hurry. Both were tired, both were hurt, each in his own way, both were ready for this to be over. They just had to wait for one of them to make a mistake, to slip and leave an opening, then it would all be over.
Harry was tired, mortally so. He had been fighting this battle for practically his whole life, and now it came down to it, the only thing that kept him going was the steady, even determination to avenge all of the wrongs that had been committed. He would win, because that was what was right.
But right doesn't always win.
It was an idiotic mistake that broke the stalemate. Harry, not looking, tripped over a small piece of ruble, and the several seconds it took for him to recover himself were all Voldemort needed.
With a searing pain Harry was thrown back a good fifty feet, huge gashes opening all along his body, and smashed into the standing remains of what had once been the huge front doors to Hogwarts School.
He fell limply to the ground, gasping in pain. He couldn't move, he tried, but his body would not listen. He, once again, found himself helpless as his age-old enemy bore down on him.
"Didn't I tell you, Harry?" Voldemort leered in his victory, "That in the end, you would lose. And here you are, alone, broken, defeated, bowed at my feet."
Harry took several breaths. He knew that any minute now he would be dead. Images of his friends passed before his eyes, all of them, everything that had happened to them, all the agony they had gone through, it had all been for nothing. Voldemort was right, he had lost everything.
But then, as his eyes faded in and out of focus, the pain beginning to fade away, a voice floated to him.
"Those we love never really leave us, Harry," the voice said. It was a kind voice. Had someone once told him that? It didn't matter, this was the end.
Then he felt a hand on his shoulder, a strong hand, a caring hand, and slowly, slowly he turned to find the softly smiling face of his Godfather looking down at him.
Had he already died? Harry wondered distantly.
They were all there. Sirius, Dumbledore, his parents, Hermione, Ron and the other Weasleys, Remus, Luna, Neville, everyone he had ever cared about, they all stood there behind him, smiling at him, and then all the pain he felt was gone. And he realized, that he wasn't alone.
He stood slowly, once more facing Voldemort. No, he wasn't dead yet, he still had a job to finish.
"You're wrong," he said, his voice was firm and even.
Voldemort stared at him in shock. "Not giving up, egh, Harry?" he leered.
Harry shook his head, "I'm not alone," he said, "I never was."
"Really?" Voldemort questioned, his voice lightly amused, "Then were are your friends, hm? I don't see them."
But Harry only smiled. He could still feel Sirius' hand on his shoulder, he could feel the warmth of his friend's love like a solid wall behind him.
A faint flicker passed across Voldemort's face, what was it? Anger? No, fear. Harry just smirked.
"This is the end, Harry," Voldemort hissed, rising his wand. But the flash of green light that flew from its tip never even reached Harry as a flash of red light suddenly rose in between them and absorbed the spell.
Voldemort's pitiless eyes widened as they traveled from Harry's face to stare in terror at the space behind the boy. Harry didn't have to turn to know what his enemy was staring at. Even with his back to them Harry could see them, his loved ones, his ghostly army behind him, smiling at him, encouraging him, giving him strength.
"You're right," he said calmly, raising his own wand, "This is the end."
Now they'll walk on my arm through the distant night
And I won't let them stray from my heart
Through the wind, through the dark, through the winter light
I will read all their dreams to the stars
I'll walk with them now
I'll call on their names
I'll see their thoughts are known
Not gone –
Not gone –
They walk with my heart –
I'll never let them go
I'll never let them go
I'll never let them go
You watch me
Just watch me
I'm calling
I'm calling –
And one day all will know