Halloween
By Ael L. Bolt
Rating: PG Genre: Angst Keywords: Halloween, Harry, Killing Curse Timeframe: Harry's fifth year Spoilers: SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF Summary: Fifteen-year-old Harry Potter thinks about the worst day of his life. Ron wants him to talk. (No, this is NOT slash. Sorry, but I don't do that.)
Disclaimer: Much as I'd like to, I don't actually own this poor grief- ridden boy named Harry. But hey, he's been through enough without becoming my new belonging. So I'm just borrowing him for awhile. He's gonna be mentally-scarred when I release him, though, so I promise I'll Obliviate him before returning.
Author's Note: This was written before the release of OotP, so sorry, it doesn't fit canon. Just use your imagination.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I hate Halloween.
No one else understands. Ron and Hermione think I'm just overreacting. They think Halloween is a day of fun and games, of candy and fake horrors that leave you laughing. They think it's a day to dress up and scare people for fun. Even Neville, the timid, jumpy one of the group, likes a good scare on Halloween. I overheard him planning to wear a vampire costume and ambush people in the halls.
If he picks me as a victim, I'll curse him into a coma.
Sirius and Remus tell me that my first Halloween was spent in Godric's Hollow, with my mum and dad. I was too young to remember, seeing as I was only a few months old, but they tell me I had the time of my life, trying to catch conjured bats and getting into all the candy. For one short time, I was happy. The worst thing that happened was when I somehow got my chubby hands on a pretzel and almost choked. ALMOST.
Then came my second Halloween.
I tell everyone that I can't remember anything except lots of green light, but that's not true. I remember being fascinated with the orange lights that buzzed around me, and I remember my mum and dad holding me. I remember my dad shouting to my mum that Voldemort was there, to take me and run away. I remember being so scared when the door blew off its hinges and the tall, ugly, snake-like man appeared. I remember my mum whispering goodbye before she screamed and died. And I remember the sneering face of Tom Riddle looking down on me, wand pointed at my forehead. "It's amazing that such a small child could pose a threat," he'd said, and then cast Avada Kedavra.
I don't know what happened after that, but when I woke up the ugly man was gone, and I was on the ground, bleeding from the forehead, with the house burning down all around me and my mum lying cold and dead next to me. And then I was crying, and a huge man came and took me away from her, and we flew away on a motorcycle that Padfoot gave to him.
Every Halloween after that, for nine years, was an event I dreaded. For the first few years, I remembered my dead parents and all the screaming. The years after that, Dudley always took away all my candy and beat me senseless.
When I was accepted to Hogwarts, I thought that Halloween would be better. But no, first year and we get a troll in the dungeon. Which then led to discovering the truth about Professor Quirrell, and led me to meet that awful snake-like man for the first time in ten years. I haven't told anyone how Voldemort taunted me down in that chamber, but all I could see was my mum dying over and over as he asked me to join him.
You'd think that it couldn't get worse. But it always does.
Second year, I heard the basilisk going after Filch's cat, and everyone coming back from the Halloween feast thought I was responsible. Worse yet, all the students thought I was the heir of Slytherin, and Ron and Hermione thought I was clinically insane. This, of course, led to me nearly getting Ginny and myself killed, not to mention Ron.
Third year, Sirius attacked the portrait of the Fat Lady, who guards Gryffindor Tower. Even though it was because of Wormtail, everyone thought he was trying to kill ME, and thus I was pretty much scared out of my wits. That Halloween wasn't too bad...after I found out Sirius wasn't after me or any of my friends, that is.
Fourth year was a lot worse than the previous years - with the exception of my parents' deaths. Last Halloween was when the Goblet of Fire chose me as the fourth TriWizard Tournament champion - something that ultimately did NOT lead to a pleasant experience. It turned Ron against me, as well as much of the school, and led to Cedric Diggory's death. All because of me, and that bloody holiday.
Halloween should be banned.
I can hear the rest of Gryffindor down in the common room, laughing about some prank. I pull my pillow over my head, trying to block out the sounds of merriment. I don't want to hear it. No one has a right to be that happy on such a horrible day.
The pillow doesn't help. I wish I knew where I left my wand, so I could cast a Silencing Charm. I just can't take it. Not now.
"Harry?" I sit up and peer out of the curtains surrounding my bed. Ron is standing there, looking somewhat puzzled. "Why aren't you downstairs with everyone else?" he asks, seeing me. Or at least one of my eyes.
"I don't want to be there." Come on, Ron. Go away. I really don't want to put up with this. He moves as if to come closer, and I shut the curtains. Bloody git, take a hint and leave. I don't want to talk.
"What's wrong, mate?" Bloody hell, he's pulled back the curtains. Doesn't he get it? Ickle Harry doesn't want to see anyone. Well fine. If he doesn't understand, I'll make him understand.
I growl at him, and chuck my pillow at him. It hits him square in the stomach. "I said I don't want to be down there," I say in my iciest tone. "I am not in the mood for this."
He looks hurt. Good. "Why are you acting this way? I didn't do anything stupid again, did I?" What is wrong with this guy? He's so incredibly dense!
"No, it's not you. This time." Maybe I should try explaining before I get in a huff. "Do you know what Halloween means to me, Ron?" I ask, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. "Halloween is such a wonderful milestone, you know. The Goblet of Fire, Sirius attacking the Tower portrait, the basilisk, Quirrell and the troll. And not to mention getting beaten within an inch of my life and thrown into a cramped cupboard under the stairs for NINE FRICKEN YEARS IN A ROW." I glare at him, seeing red. I think one of the windows is starting to crack a little. "And you know the best part? My second Halloween EVER, my parents were murdered and I remember EVERY BIT OF IT." Holy hell, I must be getting really mad. My scar is flaring, feeling almost like it's going to explode. All the breakable objects in the room are close to shattering. The sick feeling in my stomach is getting worse. I've got to get Ron out of here before I either puke or do something I'll regret later. "So you'll excuse me if I'm not in the best of moods."
Ron looks shocked. Good, maybe now he'll shut up. "I-I'm sorry, Harry. Do...do you want to talk about it?"
I can NOT have heard that right.
He wants me to talk about it?
Me?
Since when has anyone cared about ME?
I stare at him. "You're KIDDING, right? Because if you are, that's a really cruel joke."
"Why would I kid about this?" He's really serious about it. "You've never really had anyone to talk to about these things, right? Well, I'm here."
It would be rude to shrug it off and just say, "Whatever." But he's my friend, he deserves something a bit more respectful. "Thanks, but no thanks," I grumble.
He shrugs. "Suit yourself. If you change your mind, I'll be downstairs."
Long after he leaves, I'm still staring at the door. He wants me to talk. He actually wants me to talk. How can he think he can understand what I've been through? Since when does he know anything about my life?
Then it hits me.
Maybe it's time to TELL.
The End...?
Rating: PG Genre: Angst Keywords: Halloween, Harry, Killing Curse Timeframe: Harry's fifth year Spoilers: SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF Summary: Fifteen-year-old Harry Potter thinks about the worst day of his life. Ron wants him to talk. (No, this is NOT slash. Sorry, but I don't do that.)
Disclaimer: Much as I'd like to, I don't actually own this poor grief- ridden boy named Harry. But hey, he's been through enough without becoming my new belonging. So I'm just borrowing him for awhile. He's gonna be mentally-scarred when I release him, though, so I promise I'll Obliviate him before returning.
Author's Note: This was written before the release of OotP, so sorry, it doesn't fit canon. Just use your imagination.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I hate Halloween.
No one else understands. Ron and Hermione think I'm just overreacting. They think Halloween is a day of fun and games, of candy and fake horrors that leave you laughing. They think it's a day to dress up and scare people for fun. Even Neville, the timid, jumpy one of the group, likes a good scare on Halloween. I overheard him planning to wear a vampire costume and ambush people in the halls.
If he picks me as a victim, I'll curse him into a coma.
Sirius and Remus tell me that my first Halloween was spent in Godric's Hollow, with my mum and dad. I was too young to remember, seeing as I was only a few months old, but they tell me I had the time of my life, trying to catch conjured bats and getting into all the candy. For one short time, I was happy. The worst thing that happened was when I somehow got my chubby hands on a pretzel and almost choked. ALMOST.
Then came my second Halloween.
I tell everyone that I can't remember anything except lots of green light, but that's not true. I remember being fascinated with the orange lights that buzzed around me, and I remember my mum and dad holding me. I remember my dad shouting to my mum that Voldemort was there, to take me and run away. I remember being so scared when the door blew off its hinges and the tall, ugly, snake-like man appeared. I remember my mum whispering goodbye before she screamed and died. And I remember the sneering face of Tom Riddle looking down on me, wand pointed at my forehead. "It's amazing that such a small child could pose a threat," he'd said, and then cast Avada Kedavra.
I don't know what happened after that, but when I woke up the ugly man was gone, and I was on the ground, bleeding from the forehead, with the house burning down all around me and my mum lying cold and dead next to me. And then I was crying, and a huge man came and took me away from her, and we flew away on a motorcycle that Padfoot gave to him.
Every Halloween after that, for nine years, was an event I dreaded. For the first few years, I remembered my dead parents and all the screaming. The years after that, Dudley always took away all my candy and beat me senseless.
When I was accepted to Hogwarts, I thought that Halloween would be better. But no, first year and we get a troll in the dungeon. Which then led to discovering the truth about Professor Quirrell, and led me to meet that awful snake-like man for the first time in ten years. I haven't told anyone how Voldemort taunted me down in that chamber, but all I could see was my mum dying over and over as he asked me to join him.
You'd think that it couldn't get worse. But it always does.
Second year, I heard the basilisk going after Filch's cat, and everyone coming back from the Halloween feast thought I was responsible. Worse yet, all the students thought I was the heir of Slytherin, and Ron and Hermione thought I was clinically insane. This, of course, led to me nearly getting Ginny and myself killed, not to mention Ron.
Third year, Sirius attacked the portrait of the Fat Lady, who guards Gryffindor Tower. Even though it was because of Wormtail, everyone thought he was trying to kill ME, and thus I was pretty much scared out of my wits. That Halloween wasn't too bad...after I found out Sirius wasn't after me or any of my friends, that is.
Fourth year was a lot worse than the previous years - with the exception of my parents' deaths. Last Halloween was when the Goblet of Fire chose me as the fourth TriWizard Tournament champion - something that ultimately did NOT lead to a pleasant experience. It turned Ron against me, as well as much of the school, and led to Cedric Diggory's death. All because of me, and that bloody holiday.
Halloween should be banned.
I can hear the rest of Gryffindor down in the common room, laughing about some prank. I pull my pillow over my head, trying to block out the sounds of merriment. I don't want to hear it. No one has a right to be that happy on such a horrible day.
The pillow doesn't help. I wish I knew where I left my wand, so I could cast a Silencing Charm. I just can't take it. Not now.
"Harry?" I sit up and peer out of the curtains surrounding my bed. Ron is standing there, looking somewhat puzzled. "Why aren't you downstairs with everyone else?" he asks, seeing me. Or at least one of my eyes.
"I don't want to be there." Come on, Ron. Go away. I really don't want to put up with this. He moves as if to come closer, and I shut the curtains. Bloody git, take a hint and leave. I don't want to talk.
"What's wrong, mate?" Bloody hell, he's pulled back the curtains. Doesn't he get it? Ickle Harry doesn't want to see anyone. Well fine. If he doesn't understand, I'll make him understand.
I growl at him, and chuck my pillow at him. It hits him square in the stomach. "I said I don't want to be down there," I say in my iciest tone. "I am not in the mood for this."
He looks hurt. Good. "Why are you acting this way? I didn't do anything stupid again, did I?" What is wrong with this guy? He's so incredibly dense!
"No, it's not you. This time." Maybe I should try explaining before I get in a huff. "Do you know what Halloween means to me, Ron?" I ask, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. "Halloween is such a wonderful milestone, you know. The Goblet of Fire, Sirius attacking the Tower portrait, the basilisk, Quirrell and the troll. And not to mention getting beaten within an inch of my life and thrown into a cramped cupboard under the stairs for NINE FRICKEN YEARS IN A ROW." I glare at him, seeing red. I think one of the windows is starting to crack a little. "And you know the best part? My second Halloween EVER, my parents were murdered and I remember EVERY BIT OF IT." Holy hell, I must be getting really mad. My scar is flaring, feeling almost like it's going to explode. All the breakable objects in the room are close to shattering. The sick feeling in my stomach is getting worse. I've got to get Ron out of here before I either puke or do something I'll regret later. "So you'll excuse me if I'm not in the best of moods."
Ron looks shocked. Good, maybe now he'll shut up. "I-I'm sorry, Harry. Do...do you want to talk about it?"
I can NOT have heard that right.
He wants me to talk about it?
Me?
Since when has anyone cared about ME?
I stare at him. "You're KIDDING, right? Because if you are, that's a really cruel joke."
"Why would I kid about this?" He's really serious about it. "You've never really had anyone to talk to about these things, right? Well, I'm here."
It would be rude to shrug it off and just say, "Whatever." But he's my friend, he deserves something a bit more respectful. "Thanks, but no thanks," I grumble.
He shrugs. "Suit yourself. If you change your mind, I'll be downstairs."
Long after he leaves, I'm still staring at the door. He wants me to talk. He actually wants me to talk. How can he think he can understand what I've been through? Since when does he know anything about my life?
Then it hits me.
Maybe it's time to TELL.
The End...?