Ok so this story was boiling in my mind before book 7 came out, and while I knew that there was no chance that JK was going to kill Harry I did wonder, "what if…" It's just a quick one shot in the hopes that it will inspire me to get back to my James/Lily fic. I hope someone enjoys it…
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any characters created by Mrs. Rowling, just Diz.
I sat in the silence of my flat with a dizzy redhead. I am certain that dizzy is the only way to describe her, as her hair was her most dominating feature; a flaming, bushy tangle of frizz, courtesy of her parents. This is why I dubbed her Dizzy, though I only ever referred to her as this in private, like Phlegm… though there was no longer anyone to share that particular joke with. Not until that day, the day when Dizzy and I saw each other for the first time.
That particular day we were both in miserable moods, Dizzy was sad that she was stuck with her Aunt as a babysitter, and I was mad that my dumb family was all busy leaving me to watch my niece. She was 9 years old at the time, and like her mother she had an absolute thirst for knowledge. I am positive that had she been left in the care of anyone else she would have been full of questions. She knew nearly everything about everything, well, except for the one topic that no one in our family would talk about.
The War had taken its toll on the Weasley clan. It was a taboo topic for the newest generation of Weasleys, as was I. I had become a sort of black sheep, the dirt brushed under the rug that everyone knew about but no one acknowledged. I think that secretly everyone sort of wanted me to go on a die already, not because they disliked me, but because they didn't want me to suffer any longer. Not that anyone would vocalize this idea. After all I came in handy when a last minute baby sitter was needed, or something of the sort.
I'm not sure if there was something different about me that day; to me it seemed like every other day since the War ended. One day like 5426 others. I don't know why I kept count. I suppose it made me think of the price we paid for these 15 years of peace, and reminded me of just how far I was from my years at Hogwarts. Whatever it was Dizzy noticed something and found the courage to ignore the taboo.
"What's wrong?"
I looked up, rather surprised that she had spoken; I can't remember that ever happening before when it was just the two of us.
"I don't mean to bother you, it's just that… You look like you need to talk about it…"
I was amazed, firstly because I can't remember anyone ever asking me that, and secondly because it was my 9 year old niece who was insightful enough to ask. I suppose that shouldn't been such a surprise looking at her mother. However, I continued to stare in shock.
She looked down at the floor, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked, Mom and Dad always tell me not to ask, but-"
"It's ok. Really."
Her brown eyes glanced up at me.
"You know, no one ever asked me that before. I guess they all knew why I started acting this why and they didn't want me to relive it again"
"Relive what?" she looked curious
"The end, or the beginning I suppose," I found it difficult to articulate the thousand of thoughts that ran through my head. "The war"
"Well, no one really talks about the details"
"The part that hurts me the most is the part that has become common knowledge"
"About Harry Potter?"
I nodded. Hearing his name was so odd, no one had spoken that name in my presence since the funeral. If events had been different he would have been her Uncle, not the Wizard who defeated Voldemort, a virtual stranger.
"Did you love him?"
Stupid little perceptive brat. I nodded again.
"I'm sorry"
"You shouldn't be. I wouldn't trade my time with him for anything. You might not be able to tell now, but there was a time when I was happier than anyone else on the planet."
"Huh?"
"You'll understand some day."
"So what happened?"
"He sacrificed himself for the good of mankind, and I can't bring myself to forgive him"
"I'm –"
"Don't say sorry" I snapped. I didn't really mean to say it in such an abrupt and angry manner. I was tired of everyone being sorry, whether they said it or not.
Dizzy looked back at the floor once more sensing that the topic was closed. I felt bad, she has only been trying to help.
It took me a while to start chatting with her, about her friends, what her parents were like growing up, what Hogwarts was like for me, favorite books, food, music etc. little by little Dizzy broke down my carefully constructed wall. She would visit every couple weeks at first. I remember her parents shock at first, my own mother cried when she found out. Right before she joined her siblings and cousins ranks at school she was visiting me every other day. At that point she knew all about me, she knew who her Uncle Harry was, and exactly why I loved him. She even accepted me calling her Diz, and wrote me on a regular basis.
She brought me back from the dead, gave me a new reason to live. And all it took was a 9 year old dizzy redhead to say two little words…