Let Us Be


Author's Note/Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter written by J.K. Rowling nor 'Let It Be' by the Beatles.

PART ONE:

There are certain moments in person's life that one would feel intimdated by if that moment is looked back upon. These moments can be caused by love, long-suffering, faith, and even death. The same could be said by the opposite of these traits. But moments like this, are priceless. Moments like these make a person who they are. However, it all depends on how that one person reacts...

The battle at Hogwarts was over. Voldemort was now dead.

However, his hands would not stop shaking. His breathing became even more ragged by the second. He crouched down in the abandoned hallway to the stirring body that lay almost lifeless before him. His eyes pored over the man he had just stupefied- Amycus Carrow: murderer, dictator, and worst yet, a Death Eater.

Dean Thomas had wanted revenge on this man, this vile gruesome creature for years. He had one specific reason for targeting his prey. Amycus Carrow had killed his biological father years before. He had it coming. What was once known to Dean as lies and betrayal from his father turned into truth. All this time he believed his father had left the family for his own selfish reasons, but only to discover he had been murdered.

It felt good. The feeling of stupifying Carrow felt good. It was as if satisfaction replaced the incomplete feelings of emptiness Dean had in his life for nearly eighteen years. For eighteen years, he watched his family break apart. Through all those lies, misery, and madness his father's abandonment had caused, he was now discovering the truth.

Anger began to rise in Dean's chest once more as those memories of pain began flooding back in his mind. Without a moment's hesistation, Dean raised his fist and slammed it hard against Carrow's face. The Death Eater gave an inaudible gasp. Dean punched him again. And again. And again. And again....he couldn't stop. Within a minute, what was left of Amycus Carrow's face was all blood and bones. Dean huffed as he gasped for his own breath. He wanted Carrow to feel the pain he had caused his family before he killed him. When the last powerful words of 'Aveda Kedavra' were muttered from the boy's mouth, Dean knew it was all over. His battle had been won.

But even though the young eighteen year old had gotten his revenge that day, it would still not erase nor bring back the the memories and forms of the loved ones he had lost during the war. First his father, then his grandmother, then Neville, then Padma...

*~*~*~*~*

When I find myself in times of trouble

Mother Mary comes to me

Speaking words of wisdom

Let it be

*~*~*~*~*

She was always smarter than him, no doubt. She was in Ravenclaw.

It was a Saturday morning after breakfast when they spoke about it again. The two of them sat underneath a tree watching Parvati and Michael Corner fooling around in the lake. They, along with Dean and Padma, had taken it custom to spending weekend mornings at there. However, this Saturday morning felt different...

Padma looked unsurely at the young, handsome man that sat next to her. Her boyfriend, her lover, whatever one called it. She herself did not even know what to think of it...They'd been having numerous outbursts and disagreements for weeks over silly things.

"Dean?"

Dean Thomas directed his gaze from the waters of the lake to Padma. He grinned at her. "Yes, love?"

Padma, in response, sighed. Where should she start? She knew better than to bring up that particular subject up. It was one of the main causes of their quarrels. However, something inside her would not keep quiet about that matter. "Do you remember what we were discussing two Saturdays ago? Here. At the lake?"

Dean's blinked. He recalled that memory of two weeks ago. He remembered it. It was the day of the fight. He hated discussing things like that with her. With a firm expression at hand all he could do was nod, not even a decent smile wiped on his face.

Padma took his response as to go ahead. She sighed. "Dean, we need to talk about this."

"What's there to talk about, Padma?" He snapped as he turned to look at her.

Her eyes avoided his and straightaway went to the lake where Michael and her sister were now nowhere to be found. "It's a war, Dean. People die. What happens if one of us die, huh?"

Her blunt statement didn't surprise Dean. She had been bringing this matter up for quite a while now. But Dean was no fool. He knew people would come and go. But what he didn't understand was Padma's sudden fear of death. He knew she could fight to save her life.

"Why are you so afraid of dying?" His question came out in a softer manner than he had shown previously.

Padma awkwardly looked down at her twiddling thumbs. There was a moment that came when both fell to a rare silence. With a steady head, she glanced at him. "I'm not worried about myself, I'm worried about you."

Confusion and shock mustered all over Dean's face. "What do you mean?"

"If you die, Dean, what am I going to do with myself?"

Understanding finally took control of Dean. Now he knew what she meant. She wasn't scared of the fact of death, but the aftermath of it. He sat up unhesitatingly and moved closer to her. His fingers delicately place the curly black strand of hair away from her face. "I'm not going anywhere. And neither are you," he assured her softly.

Padma suddenly pushed his hand away. She sighed heavily. The distance between them began to gap. Clearly, there was something between them that was just not right. "I hope you mean that, Dean Thomas." Her voice quivered.

"What? Of course, I do," mustered a confused Dean. His hands went back on his lap. "I love you, Padma." He muttered.

It was times like these he did not understand Padma Patil. One minute, everything would be fine and the next, another fight between them would brawl. But, in truth, he did love her. True they would fight more on occassion, but it was the small fights and differences between them that made their relationship. An older Dean Thomas would later look back on his life in the future and realize that this indeed was one extraordinary relationship. An unhealthy one in fact...

"Sometimes when you tell me that, I have a feeling you picture someone else," Padma stated bluntly. Her eyes were no longer captivated by light but by tears. A seriousness in her eyes told Dean she knew. "A girl knows when the man they love sees another woman in his eyes."

"Padma, what on earth are you talking about? That's nonsense," contradicted Dean, but something inside him, like a roaring lion, made him feel as if he was lying to the woman he supposedly loved.

"You have feelings for her. I can see it. The way you look at her and me is entirely different," Padma stated again. The anger in her began to be evident by the strain in her voice. The tears began falling one by one. This was the first time that Dean had seen her cry. It was the first time that she had cried over a boy.

"Who, Padma? Who? You're not making any sense," Dean replied. He tried to comfort her as his arm reached around her shoulders. But she pushed him back. He tried to wipe away the tears that strolled down her face. But she turned her head.

She ignored his statement as her crying became even harder and heavier. "Don't lie to me, Dean. Don't lie to yourself. It's like a part of you already died in me. You don't know it yet, but one day...One day you will see it."

Dean softened up. He scooted closer to her and wrapped strong, protective arms around her shoulders. His mouth found her ear as his fingers wiped away the wetness of Padma's face. "You're being ridiculous, love. And you're in Ravenclaw. You're supposed to have the brains." He joked, but she did not respond, all she could do was keep her head placed on his chest. "I love you, Padma. Who else did you even think I could love as much as you?"

Her head shifted on his chest. Finally but slowly, she looked up at him. The tears had ceased from falling but the evidence of her crying was still on her face. She couldn't speak no more for she knew what she had to do. You will realize it one day, Dean Thomas.

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