Down The Line
Once in pain, twice the strong
Part of life is moving on
The magic way you look at me
That's all that matters, honestly
Down the line I'm gonna stay in touch
Forgive and forget what you regret so much
Down the line I'm with you still,
Always was and always will
The cool breeze ruffled his hair as he looked out into the night. The sight that met his eyes may not have been pretty or beauitful, but it was familiar and brought comfort to his damaged soul and mind.
Beside him a very beautiful girl sat, she was fast asleep and he did not wish to wake her. He enjoyed the silence and he enjoyed the mere prescense of her instead of talking. That was something they had done the whole day and now he was lost for words.
Maybe she got cold, maybe he thought out loud, whatever it was she awoke. He looked down into her pretty face and his green eyes met her blue and she smiled.
"Sorry, I must've fallen asleep." She said, yawning.
"It's OK," he said quietly. "I kind of liked it."
She kissed him on the cheek and then stood up.
"Come on, let's go back, we can't sit her all night."
Harry felt a bit disappointed. He would've happily sat out there forever, not only to avoid the future, but to avoid his friends who looked at him as if he was something fragile that would break if they spoke to him. He hated to know that they were causcious of every move he made.
"Can't we stay here for a bit?" he said and she sat down again.
"Sure…" she whispered and took his hand.
"Isn't this perfect? If we could just stay here forever…"
"What? Outside the hens house?"
"You know what I mean, Ginny. If we didn't ever have to go back to reality again, if we were in a world where no Voldemort existed, where trouble was a word no one knew. Where fighting was long forgotton. Where everyone was friends and were under one mans lead, so they wouldn't have to think about what was right or wrong..."
"Yes, it would… But that's not real Harry, would you really like to live in a world without conflict? Without feelings? Without opinions? Could you live like that?"
"No," he said truthfully. "Not if I knew what feelings felt like. And not if I had to obey one person and not have a mind of my own."
"So what do you say? Shall we go in? I bet they're worried about you now."
"You don't say?" he said sarcastically "They never stop worrying about me, even if I'm there they look at me like I'm sick and always need someone to look after me."
"They're just trying to help."
"I know," he sighed, "but I can't help hating it."
She smiled at him and held out a hand to help him up. Most unwillingly he took it and stood up beside her. He didn't let go of her hand and the wounds inside of him felt more bareable with her hand in his.
Why was everything so wrong when it felt so right?
Outside her room he kissed her goodnight.
"I wish it could be like this forever." She said quietly.
"Me too, but you can't build your life on dreams."
The next morning nineteen year old Harry Potter woke up with a terrible head ache. It felt as though someone had whacked him on the head with a bat and then sent a bludger on it. He didn't want to go down, not only because everybody fussing around him, but if he said that he had a head ache he was most likely to be spending his next couple of weeks at St Mungos.
He thought about everything that had happened in his life and was surprised he hadn't got depressed earlier on, say about five.
When he was just one year old he became an orphan. His parents were killed by the most powerful and feared wizard of the time, Lord Voldemort. He had grown so strong people were afraid to speak his name. Still were, mind you. And the only thing Lily and James Potter had really ever done to Voldemort (except becoming aurors, trying to kill him on several accounts and being blood traitors) were the mere fact that they were the parents of Harry James Potter, him. Seeing as Lily had died to save her son Voldemorts spelled had backfired and he, almost, died.
At the age of eleven something had finally happened, after years of being taunted and emotionally tortured by his only living relatives he learned that he was a wizard, his first year had not been the easisest one though, at the end of it he had faced Voldemort once again, and survived, once again.
But on the other hand, for the first time he had friends. Ron Weasly and Hermione Granger helped him through it all. The next couple of years at Hogwarts school och witchcraft and wizardry had not been any less dangerous and adventure filled.
He managed to save his fathers best friend, and his godfather, Sirius Black, from a faith worse than death, a dementors kiss. It sounded harmless but what they really did, the dementors, were suck out someone's soul.
In his fourth year he entered the triwizard tournament, three years too young. At the end of that year he faced Voldemort again, and watched a boy die, and it was all Harry's fault…
The guilt squirmed inside of him.
But he managed to move on somehow and then the next blow came. Sirius Black, died. The closest thing to a father or a brother he had ever had disappeared, and yet again it was Harry's fault.
He got used to being miserable and immune to feel.
And just when he had found some light in Ginny Weasly, who he fell hopelessly in love with, Dumbledore, head master of Hogwarts and Harry's mentor, died.
This would surely be enough for any person. Most people would crack, but not Harry. He forced himself to stay focused, knowing that the entire wizardring and muggle world were relying on him to save them.
"Neither can live while the other survives."
Those were the words he had been chanting to himself at night.
Harry Potter was the only one who could save the world from Voldemort. And due to this he had to cut of bounds, he needed to do it alone. He had broken up with the thing that had made him happier than ever before, he had broken up with Ginny Weasly.
The most amazing thing with all this was that he had actually survived, he had beaten Voldemort. He had won. You would think that he would be happy now, but all those years of pain were finally catching up with him.
Now he had no reason to live, nothing was expected of him, he was just that guy who defeated Voldemort.
Never a person, never Harry, not even a human being. Always the boy-who-lived, or as they preferred to call him these days. The man-who-won.
Ginny had of course sensed what he was feeling, nothing about him escaped her. She was the only one in this bloody house who saw him for a person with problems. Everyone expected him to be happy because the war was finally over, and when he was not they seemed to think he was crazy.
A knock on the door disturbed his thoughts and he called monotonly.
"Come in."
And there she was, as beautiful as ever, with that reassuring smile that everything would be alright.
"Good morning, how are you feeling?"
"I've got a head ache…" he confessed.
"Of course you have, you haven't been eating or drinking for days. Better not tell mum though, she gets so…"
"Worried." He finished her sentence.
"Exactly…" she lay down next to him and snuggled up to his side.
"A penny for them." She said after they had been lying quietly for a while.
"I was thinking about how odd it is for me to get depressed now"
"That's not odd, if I were you I would definetly be depressed now."
"How come?"
"Well, for starters the meaning of your life is dead and everything he made you go through that you've been bottling up inside of you is reaching its boiliing point."
He felt relief when he heard her express everything he had been feeling without so much as a flinch.
"Oh and it doesn't exactly help that your best friends have turned their back on you because they're scared of you."
"Not all of them have." He said quietly and stroked her hair.
"You've got to have some patience with them Harry, I know to an extent what you're going through, they haven't got a clue."
"So what were you thinking about?"
"How happy I am for that you came back, how wonderful you smell. And I was trying to think of a joke so I could hear you laugh or at least see that beautiful smile of yours."
He smiled at this, not able to restrain himself.
"Ah, now that's more like it." She said happily. He couldn't stop himself from kissing her. And as his lips met hers a weight lifted from his stomach.
"Thank you Ginny." He said quietly after they broke apart.
"For what?"
"For listening to me, for being with me, for helping me realise it's OK to feel."
She smiled at him and he knew, he knew that everything would be alright. And to top it all, his head ache was gone.