Title: Misnomer
Author: GrapeSmshr
Rated: R
Coupling: HP/SS slashy goodness
Disclaimer: As much as I wish it were so, these charas don't belong to me.
A/N: Hey hey, I started another one! Yay for me! It's quite different from VS, but that's what is making this so fun to write. So, without further ado, read on and enjoy!
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Chapter 1: Limbo
Flashes of white. Black. Red. All simultaneous, yet all separate. Longer. Brighter. They blurred together in a vortex of colors that soothed and stung and washed over him in wave after wave of the most intense heat he had ever experienced. Faster and faster the waves crashed; searing heat, excruciatingly wonderful heat gave way to arctic cold as he was sucked into a black hole. Falling, falling, never-ending falling in a never-ending pit of nothingness...
And then he landed with a sound plop on an abnormally comfy armchair, sinking into the velvety material. His eyes scanned the room with trepidation and curiosity; it seemed like an ordinary enough room. At least, as ordinary a room as a dead person could expect.
He knew he was dead; he remembered what had happened and the exact wording of the complicated spell he had never heard before that split-second, the spell that had just barely nicked his arm as he tried to sidestep it, the spell that had literally caused his heart to explode in his chest.
So if he was dead, where was he? Stuck in some kind of bizarre limbo? Wouldn't that be just fitting. He snorted in derision. Like he hadn't spent a good chunk of his life in limbo. He had to spend his afterlife like that as well?
Pushing himself up out of the comfort of the armchair, he took in a quick sweep of the room. It didn't look familiar, but it seemed warm and safe and inviting. "Am I in Heaven?" he wondered absently.
"Guess again, Potter."
Whirling around, Harry Potter cried, "Malfoy! I must be in Hell!" He didn't have time to register Draco Malfoy's smirk as his eyes rolled back into his head and he fainted dead away.
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"Oh, get up, Potter," Draco said with irritation, tapping his foot impatiently. "Honestly, what a drama queen."
Opening one eye, Harry realized that he had not indeed fainted. He was still conscious of his surroundings and the fact that Malfoy was sneering at him. Picking himself up off the floor, he muttered, "Great, just great. I'm in Hell, with Malfoy. I save the bloody world, and I'm confined for eternity in Hell. With Malfoy!" he finished loudly, covering his face with his hands.
"Stuff it already, you ponce. We're not in Hell," Draco answered, not for the first time dreading that he had been sent on this mission.
"Well, we can't be in Heaven," Harry announced matter-of-factly, hands now on his hips in defiance.
Draco was highly insulted. "Are you insinuating that I am not Gryffindor enough to make it into Heaven?" He felt this growing urge to throttle the teen senseless, which he could justifiably do since no harm would come from it. They were, after all, dead already.
Rolling his eyes, Harry retorted, "No, I was insinuating that I was too Slytherin to make it into Heaven." The words seemed to form a new layer of tension in the already strained air between them, and he could have sworn that the room grew darker.
Feeling quite uncomfortable with the revelation, Draco once again cursed his luck at having to deal with Potter. But the sooner he said his piece, the sooner he could leave. "To answer your earlier inquiry, we are in neither Heaven nor Hell, but a state of suspension in-between."
Eyes wide, Harry exclaimed, "I knew it! I'm bloody stuck in limbo!" He began pacing back and forth, muttering under his breath.
Letting his breath out noisily, Draco sat down on the abandoned armchair. He had a short temper to begin with, and Harry's inane ramblings were not helping matters any. "Potter, sit down." When the teen made no indication of hearing, he repeated himself. Still no response. Growing quite frustrated, he barked out, "Potter, sit the hell down!"
Surprised at the outburst, Harry lost his footing and tumbled to the ground with a yelp. He rose up, glaring at Draco before sitting in the adjacent armchair. "Why are you here? Why am I here?"
"I am here to speak with you, much to my chagrin. You are here because your fate has been questioned."
"My fate? What do you mean?" Harry was confused. How could his fate be questioned? Was there going to be some sort of trial? He didn't want to be sent to Hell.
"You were not supposed to die."
Harry blinked. Then he blinked again. "What? Wait, what?" That was positively absurd!
"You were not supposed to have died," Draco repeated impatiently. "Do you remember your prophecy? One of you were supposed to live. Since that did not happen, the cosmos has been disrupted, the internal balance thrown off."
Slack-jawed and disbelieving, Harry let the weight of the words press into him. So now what? He had saved the world from Voldemort but had inherently damned it again with his own untimely death? "What--what does--"
"You get to go back."
Back. Such a simple work with such a complex, weighty meaning. "How? I mean, I don't--"
"Your essence will be restored, and you can live again. Provided you stay out of trouble," Draco couldn't resist adding.
Harry had so many questions, but he didn't want to jinx the situation by asking them. He was being given a second chance to live! He wanted to twirl around the room and laugh until he couldn't laugh any more. But then he frowned as a thought came to him. "What about you?"
"What about me?"
"Are you... do you..."
"I am bound to the land of the nonliving," he said with ease. He had come to terms with the situation fairly quickly, even though his body had perished only mere days ago.
"Oh." There wasn't much that Harry could say on the matter. Instead he asked, "Malfoy? Could you do me a favor?" At the raised eyebrow he extended, "Can you say hello to my parents for me?"
At first Draco didn't understand the meaning behind the words, but then he smirked. It was nice to know that their past year of working together for the Order had allowed them both a little insight into the other's character. "I will," he said gently. "Now, time to go." He stood, tugging Harry to his feet. "Two days will have passed since your death. The spent time has been chosen for return by the cosmos. Your return will be greeted with obvious skepticism, but I have no doubt that with your Gryffindor-ish personality, you can convince everyone of your true presence." Draco squeezed Harry's shoulder roughly. "And Potter, do try to improve your spell-dodging skills."
Before Harry could answer with an equally witty retort, he once again was succumbed to the falling black hole and flashing vortex of colors. But it didn't bother him, because this time he knew he was going home.
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He didn't go the funeral. He couldn't. It was still hard to accept, even though he had been there, had seen him outstretched, unmoving, not breathing, on the cold, rain-slicked ground.
And just like that, the world ended just as the world began.
Not too many people had been privy to the knowledge that Harry and he had been friends. Good friends. Perhaps the best of friends, in some twisted way. Well, as best as the two could be, at least. That was inevitable since they had to depend on each other so much, just to stay alive.
Standing just inside the Great Hall, he curbed the urge to flee. The funeral had ended just an hour before. Packed to capacity, no doubt, of students and professors and family friends that were bid entrance into Hogwarts. But he couldn't go; he felt claustrophobic enough in there by himself.
Besides, he had something that he wanted to say to Harry.
Making his feet move slowly forward, he felt the weight on his chest grow heavier. He didn't want to do this, say goodbye, but he knew he needed to. Harry deserved that and so much more from him.
As he slowly approached the casket, he wished that it were closed. This would be so much easier if he didn't have to see that still, pale face, the peacefully permanent expression. He felt the urge to run, to run and never turn back, but he was already there.
No turning back.
With a deep breath, he stepped up to the smooth mahogany box, unable to look down. He had to do this; he had to, or he would surely go insane. He would go more insane than he already had. So with leadened movements, he turned his face downward to pay his respects, to mourn the only way he knew how since he forgot long ago how to weep. But what he saw shocked him into stupor.
"The body is gone!"
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OoOoOoO
I had a less comical phrase for the end, but I was quite amused by my first inclination, so I kept it. I started this fic a few weeks ago and was going to wait to post it, but I just couldn't help myself.
So what did you think? I do hope it was entertaining for a first installment. Please review and let me know what you think! I do so love my reviews (please see my bio note on reviewing and the circle of life). Thanks so much for reading. Until next chapter, then. Peace out!
Author: GrapeSmshr
Rated: R
Coupling: HP/SS slashy goodness
Disclaimer: As much as I wish it were so, these charas don't belong to me.
A/N: Hey hey, I started another one! Yay for me! It's quite different from VS, but that's what is making this so fun to write. So, without further ado, read on and enjoy!
OoOoOoO
Chapter 1: Limbo
Flashes of white. Black. Red. All simultaneous, yet all separate. Longer. Brighter. They blurred together in a vortex of colors that soothed and stung and washed over him in wave after wave of the most intense heat he had ever experienced. Faster and faster the waves crashed; searing heat, excruciatingly wonderful heat gave way to arctic cold as he was sucked into a black hole. Falling, falling, never-ending falling in a never-ending pit of nothingness...
And then he landed with a sound plop on an abnormally comfy armchair, sinking into the velvety material. His eyes scanned the room with trepidation and curiosity; it seemed like an ordinary enough room. At least, as ordinary a room as a dead person could expect.
He knew he was dead; he remembered what had happened and the exact wording of the complicated spell he had never heard before that split-second, the spell that had just barely nicked his arm as he tried to sidestep it, the spell that had literally caused his heart to explode in his chest.
So if he was dead, where was he? Stuck in some kind of bizarre limbo? Wouldn't that be just fitting. He snorted in derision. Like he hadn't spent a good chunk of his life in limbo. He had to spend his afterlife like that as well?
Pushing himself up out of the comfort of the armchair, he took in a quick sweep of the room. It didn't look familiar, but it seemed warm and safe and inviting. "Am I in Heaven?" he wondered absently.
"Guess again, Potter."
Whirling around, Harry Potter cried, "Malfoy! I must be in Hell!" He didn't have time to register Draco Malfoy's smirk as his eyes rolled back into his head and he fainted dead away.
OoOoOoO
"Oh, get up, Potter," Draco said with irritation, tapping his foot impatiently. "Honestly, what a drama queen."
Opening one eye, Harry realized that he had not indeed fainted. He was still conscious of his surroundings and the fact that Malfoy was sneering at him. Picking himself up off the floor, he muttered, "Great, just great. I'm in Hell, with Malfoy. I save the bloody world, and I'm confined for eternity in Hell. With Malfoy!" he finished loudly, covering his face with his hands.
"Stuff it already, you ponce. We're not in Hell," Draco answered, not for the first time dreading that he had been sent on this mission.
"Well, we can't be in Heaven," Harry announced matter-of-factly, hands now on his hips in defiance.
Draco was highly insulted. "Are you insinuating that I am not Gryffindor enough to make it into Heaven?" He felt this growing urge to throttle the teen senseless, which he could justifiably do since no harm would come from it. They were, after all, dead already.
Rolling his eyes, Harry retorted, "No, I was insinuating that I was too Slytherin to make it into Heaven." The words seemed to form a new layer of tension in the already strained air between them, and he could have sworn that the room grew darker.
Feeling quite uncomfortable with the revelation, Draco once again cursed his luck at having to deal with Potter. But the sooner he said his piece, the sooner he could leave. "To answer your earlier inquiry, we are in neither Heaven nor Hell, but a state of suspension in-between."
Eyes wide, Harry exclaimed, "I knew it! I'm bloody stuck in limbo!" He began pacing back and forth, muttering under his breath.
Letting his breath out noisily, Draco sat down on the abandoned armchair. He had a short temper to begin with, and Harry's inane ramblings were not helping matters any. "Potter, sit down." When the teen made no indication of hearing, he repeated himself. Still no response. Growing quite frustrated, he barked out, "Potter, sit the hell down!"
Surprised at the outburst, Harry lost his footing and tumbled to the ground with a yelp. He rose up, glaring at Draco before sitting in the adjacent armchair. "Why are you here? Why am I here?"
"I am here to speak with you, much to my chagrin. You are here because your fate has been questioned."
"My fate? What do you mean?" Harry was confused. How could his fate be questioned? Was there going to be some sort of trial? He didn't want to be sent to Hell.
"You were not supposed to die."
Harry blinked. Then he blinked again. "What? Wait, what?" That was positively absurd!
"You were not supposed to have died," Draco repeated impatiently. "Do you remember your prophecy? One of you were supposed to live. Since that did not happen, the cosmos has been disrupted, the internal balance thrown off."
Slack-jawed and disbelieving, Harry let the weight of the words press into him. So now what? He had saved the world from Voldemort but had inherently damned it again with his own untimely death? "What--what does--"
"You get to go back."
Back. Such a simple work with such a complex, weighty meaning. "How? I mean, I don't--"
"Your essence will be restored, and you can live again. Provided you stay out of trouble," Draco couldn't resist adding.
Harry had so many questions, but he didn't want to jinx the situation by asking them. He was being given a second chance to live! He wanted to twirl around the room and laugh until he couldn't laugh any more. But then he frowned as a thought came to him. "What about you?"
"What about me?"
"Are you... do you..."
"I am bound to the land of the nonliving," he said with ease. He had come to terms with the situation fairly quickly, even though his body had perished only mere days ago.
"Oh." There wasn't much that Harry could say on the matter. Instead he asked, "Malfoy? Could you do me a favor?" At the raised eyebrow he extended, "Can you say hello to my parents for me?"
At first Draco didn't understand the meaning behind the words, but then he smirked. It was nice to know that their past year of working together for the Order had allowed them both a little insight into the other's character. "I will," he said gently. "Now, time to go." He stood, tugging Harry to his feet. "Two days will have passed since your death. The spent time has been chosen for return by the cosmos. Your return will be greeted with obvious skepticism, but I have no doubt that with your Gryffindor-ish personality, you can convince everyone of your true presence." Draco squeezed Harry's shoulder roughly. "And Potter, do try to improve your spell-dodging skills."
Before Harry could answer with an equally witty retort, he once again was succumbed to the falling black hole and flashing vortex of colors. But it didn't bother him, because this time he knew he was going home.
OoOoOoO
He didn't go the funeral. He couldn't. It was still hard to accept, even though he had been there, had seen him outstretched, unmoving, not breathing, on the cold, rain-slicked ground.
And just like that, the world ended just as the world began.
Not too many people had been privy to the knowledge that Harry and he had been friends. Good friends. Perhaps the best of friends, in some twisted way. Well, as best as the two could be, at least. That was inevitable since they had to depend on each other so much, just to stay alive.
Standing just inside the Great Hall, he curbed the urge to flee. The funeral had ended just an hour before. Packed to capacity, no doubt, of students and professors and family friends that were bid entrance into Hogwarts. But he couldn't go; he felt claustrophobic enough in there by himself.
Besides, he had something that he wanted to say to Harry.
Making his feet move slowly forward, he felt the weight on his chest grow heavier. He didn't want to do this, say goodbye, but he knew he needed to. Harry deserved that and so much more from him.
As he slowly approached the casket, he wished that it were closed. This would be so much easier if he didn't have to see that still, pale face, the peacefully permanent expression. He felt the urge to run, to run and never turn back, but he was already there.
No turning back.
With a deep breath, he stepped up to the smooth mahogany box, unable to look down. He had to do this; he had to, or he would surely go insane. He would go more insane than he already had. So with leadened movements, he turned his face downward to pay his respects, to mourn the only way he knew how since he forgot long ago how to weep. But what he saw shocked him into stupor.
"The body is gone!"
OoOoOoO
OoOoOoO
I had a less comical phrase for the end, but I was quite amused by my first inclination, so I kept it. I started this fic a few weeks ago and was going to wait to post it, but I just couldn't help myself.
So what did you think? I do hope it was entertaining for a first installment. Please review and let me know what you think! I do so love my reviews (please see my bio note on reviewing and the circle of life). Thanks so much for reading. Until next chapter, then. Peace out!