The Awakened One

They stood there in the dark, waiting in silence. Even the wind dare not blow through the trees, should it stir the branches and shatter the quiet. Ages passed, or maybe minutes, but they heard it finally, soft foot falls on a dirt path, the rustle of leaves as he walked through the wood.

He parted them like Moses did the Red Sea, walking down the isle of their parted bodies as they watched his every move.

He stood in front of them in jeans and a shirt the color of blood, his thin shoulders sagging under the pressure of being a savior.

Their collected hope beamed out form their watery eyes and burned holes in his clothing.

Do not fail us Harry Potter.

It was the night before something important. The final battle, probably. But you could never tell. Every battle seemed to be the final battle. Or it least it was for some. Colin Creevy's final battle occurred not even a fortnight ago. Pavarti Patil's happened just last Tuesday. The crowd waited for The Speech. The Pep Talk. The Reminder That This Was All Worth Fighting For.

They waited, and waited, but Harry Potter just stood there.

Finally Harry crouched down and the group followed the movement. He ran his hands through the grass until his fingers stopped at a tiny little dandelion. He picked it and cradled the weed like a precious jewel, standing finally and holding the flower high. That was when the whispers broke out.

Harry didn't say a word. He just held the flower above his head, letting it be the guiding light.

Finally a voice was loud enough to be heard over the mumbling.

"But what does is mean?"

But no one knew.

"Think about it." Harry said.

He walked out the same way he came, his face still as pale as ever, his eyes still sunken.

Small pieces of the group met in tents.

"What the hell was that?" Ron Weasley demanded of Hermione Granger.

"Maybe he's lost it." Seamus Finnigan supplied.

"No. No. I get it. I get it." Hermione stood up and left the tent, leaving the rest to wonder just what "it" was.

"Just think about it." Ron said. "Just do what Harry asked."

So the young (and they really were young) wizards sat crammed in a tent, crossed legged and open- minded, waiting for it to come.

"We are nothing." Someone said. It was Neville.

He looked around at them all and said, "There is no pain. There will be no death, because we are nothing. In this place, we are as insubstantial, yet as colossal as a flower. I will fight for that." He left the tent like Hermione did, with that enlightened (really enlightened) look upon his face. It took longer for others to get it too.

The final battle did come. It came only 3 hours later, actually.

Ashes to ashes, people died and people killed.

Tom Riddle died and Harry Potter killed him.

Draco Malfoy got it as soon as Harry held up the flower. Because he just understood things like that. He understood why his father tried to kill him and he understood why Dumbledore wasn't fighting any more.

Draco found Harry after the battle, nestled between the roots of the biggest tree in the Forbidden Forest, his hands in his lap forming a perfect 'O'.

Draco kneeled in front of Harry.

"Hello, my teacher. I am so glad I found you again." Draco whispered.

Harry smiled and kissed him first between the eyes and then upon his lips.

"I knew you'd understand. Maybe someday I will find you too."

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A/N Read Siddhartha, then you'll get this. I'm seriously considering following the Buddha. Sorry if this was preachy, but this was an "in between chapters" fic. Yeah. I'm sorry if you totally confused.