AN: Um … hi? I'm sorry I haven't posted anything in years… Life seemed to take hold of me and swept me along for the ride. I haven't been writing and then this afternoon this piece of fiction came to me and I just had to get it down. I'm not sure how good it is. Hagrid is OOC but he's not a character that I had ever attempted before. His thought process (at least to me) would be far better than his speech. His emotions are always strong and I was kind of shocked to realise that no one else had done this kind of story before; Hagrid was there when Harry died that would affect the kind hearted Giant. Plus I think I wanted to figure out how Hagrid sees Harry…
This is my first Harry Potter story that I've ever finished. Feedback would be great!
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Happy Readings! :)
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The Forest Again
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Throughout his life he had often cursed the fact that his mother had not been a wizard.
His years as a student at Hogwarts had been hard. The other students had seen he was different that he did not completely fit into what a wizard should be. His expulsion had been the most difficult; he was unable to prove his innocence, Dumbledore his only defence and saving grace in convincing Professor Dippet to keep him as groundskeeper.
Throughout his adult life there had been other instances where his heritage had come into question and he had been scorned or looked upon as a fool and dangerous because of his size and speech. Each instance had been another blow to his tender and large heart.
The article that had revealed the identity of his Giantess mother to the British Wizarding world had been one of the worst times of his life. He was saved by Harry, Ron, Hermione and of course Dumbledore. Each of whom had shown and proven again and again that they cared for him and that he was loved. That his blood family did not change who he was.
There had been times when he was grateful for his Giant blood. Times when spells and curses had been aimed at him and he had not been able to respond or defend himself. It was times like this that he was grateful for his thicker skin and resistance to most spell work that would harm him.
But it was not until he was captured during the battle at Hogwarts that he truly hated his cursed genes.
He could do nothing as Harry, his beloved Harry, the young man that he had saved as a mere babe and who had helped and befriended the Giant of a man, walked calmly towards death.
He could do nothing but try to get Harry to run to escape, even though he knew it to be futile.
He could do nothing but watch as You-Know-Who raised his wand and Harry stood still.
He could do nothing but watch as the green light of the Killing Curse raced towards the young man he respected above all others.
He could do nothing as the Lady Malfoy declared that You-Kno- That Voldemort had succeeded in what the dark wizard had been trying to do for seventeen years.
As he was forced to carry the body of a boy that he loved with all of his heart he broke and cursed his bloodline now more than ever. What was the point in being so fierce of size when he could not defend and protect those he loved? What was the point in being able to survive curses and charms, when those around him succumbed to them?
What was the point in living when those who he loved were killed in front of him?
As he was forced to place Harry, his beloved Harry, at the feet of that monster he could do nothing but weep as the young man he had sworn to care for and protect since he had first laid eyes upon the small babe in Godrics Hollow was mocked and his body tortured merely for one monsters entertainment.
There was nothing he wished more than to be the Giant that others had seen him as and tear apart the thing before him.
He heard the cries of Harry's other friends and supporters and family and wished that he had died rather than be captured. Wished he had never had to see the dark haired, green eyed young man that he loved as a son is murdered before him. It was a sight that he knew would haunt him every second until he joined Harry in death.
Every moment he had ever spent with the young man was being replayed in his mind over and over.
Pulling the screaming crying child from his godfathers' arms, knowing Dumbledore must have his reasons for separating the two grieving males. Comforting Sirius Black knowing that James and Lily Potter were laying in rooms nearby lifeless and unfeeling and not knowing how little Harry had survived but swearing to himself that he would help protect and care for this little boy for this little orphan as Dumbledore had cared for him after his own father had died.
That long horrible flight with baby Harry, knowing Harry had just lost everyone who loved him. That he was going to be placed with muggles and that the young babe would never have the comfort of him mum or dad when he cried that it would be strangers arms that encircled the young babe for the foreseeable future.
Seeing the skinny little boy in that freezing hut on that tiny rock in the middle of a raging storm and a heaving ocean. The rage that had threatened to completely overtake him and the fear at being asked all of those questions by a young boy wanting, no, needing to know who he was and who his parents had been and why, why, he was treated the way he was. Why fate had given him such a horrible start in life.
The joy at being given the chance to introduce Harry to a world that was beautiful and strange and wonderful even with its dark corners and darker history.
The bright smile and shine in the lads eyes when he had stepped off of the Hogwarts express and his awe as he first caught sight of the castle that would be called home by them both.
All of the visits in his hut. All of the times he had watched Harry growing and learning at the school that was their home and in the classes that Harry had helped him with.
Harry's seventeenth birthday. The last happy moments he would ever remember of Harry.
All of these moments and more filled his mind. Each one fighting to take over what little emotional stability he had left as the yelling continued around him.
It was with a slow and sluggish mind that he realised spells were flying. He ignored all of the movement around him. His mind concerned with only the thought of his friend, of the young man he saw as family. He distantly heard the call of his little brother but it did not penetrate through the grief and shock and despair he was feeling.
Without thought and no knowledge of what he was doing he had pushed aside the Death Eaters around him. His every thought on the dark haired young man that had been lying on the ground in the middle of all of this madness. He did not realise that he had started shouting as he realised he could not see him.
His actions becoming more and more violent in his haste to find the young man that meant the world to him.
'HARRY! HARRY – WHERE'S HARRY?' His yell was ignored by most but the noise had attracted the attention of the Death Eaters surrounding him. He was buffeted and pushed towards the Entrance Hall, afraid of harming someone from the Light he was forced to carefully make his way to the Great Hall shielding anyone he could from the spells of the Death Eaters, once more grateful for his curse. It was chaos. House Elves entered the fray and he was once more forced to take great care in where he stood and how he moved.
'Protego!' It was a voice he knew very well. A voice that he had thought would haunt his dreams. The sight of Harry standing and strong and ALIVE was nearly too much for him. His legs felt weak as hope and joy filled him. Those brief feelings were quickly stifled by fear for Harry as the young man faced Voldemort once again.
'I don't want anyone else to try to help. It's got to be like this. It's got to be me.' Pride filled him as he listened to this brave, brave, young man.
'Potter doesn't mean that. That isn't how he works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter?'
The urge to step forward was great, to defend Harry as he had defended Dumbledore in the past.
How could Harry stand there with no fear in his eyes? It was impossible for this to be happening. How was he alive?
'Nobody. There are no more Horcruxes. It's just you and me. Neither can live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good.' Again pride filled him. Harry stood there with pure determination on his face. It was such an astounding difference to that moment in the forest where Harry had stood peaceful and knowing. He knew that this time Voldemort would not walk away. Harry would come out victorious there was no other way that this could end. However fear also coincided with his pride. The last time Harry had stood against Voldemort he had not moved as the green light had struck him…
'One of us? You think it will be you, do you, the boy who has survived by accident, and because Dumbledore was pulling the strings?'
'Accident, was it, when my mother died to save me? Accident when I decided to fight in that graveyard? Accident, that I didn't defend myself tonight, and still survived, and returned to fight again?' He watched in his minds eye as Harry was struck by green and fell to the ground unmoving, lifeless.
'Accidents! Accidents and chance and the fact that you crouched and snivelled behind the skirts of greater men and women, and permitted me to kill them for you!' The anger surged again as he watched the repulsive form of his former classmate.
'You won't be killing anyone else tonight. You won't be able to kill any of them, ever again. Don't you get it? I was ready to die to stop you hurting these people – '
'But you did not!' The anger in that statement chilled him to the spine. How could one man, one being hate somebody so much?
' – I meant to,' This statement chilled him to the bone. To imagine walking to your death; calmly and accepting in order to save everyone from Voldemorts wrath… Harry was by far the bravest man he had ever known. 'And that's what did it. I've done what my mother did.' He saw in that moment how incredibly bright Lily's eyes shown through on Harry's face. 'Haven't you noticed how none of the spells you put on them are binding? You can't torture them. You can't touch them. You don't learn from your mistakes, Riddle, do you?'
'You dare – ' The venom and hatred in that voice…
'Yes, I dare. I know things you don't know, Tom Riddle. I know lots of important things that you don't.'
Impossibly before his eyes he watched as an indignant young boy took the place of the Harry before him 'I know some thing! I can, you know, do math and stuff.' He fought hard to suppress a smile. Harry had come a long way from the little boy who had known nothing of witches and wizards.
'Want to hear some, before you make another big mistake?' Harry was taunting him, taunting a villain that had most of the Wizarding World too afraid to speak his name. And he was doing it without fear.
There was silence for a while as Voldemort prowled around Harry.
'Is it love again? Dumbledore's favourite solution, love, which he claimed conquered death, though love did not stop him falling from the Tower and breaking like an old waxwork.' Anger once more filled him, but he held himself back. Harry was in control. Harry was almost amused by the situation or so it looked. Harry could do this. 'Love, which did not prevent me stamping out your Mudblood mother like a cockroach, Potter – and nobody seems to love you enough to run forwards this time, and take my curse. So what will stop you dying now when I strike?' Anger and hatred filled him for this monster that held not a trace of remorse for all of the death and destruction and heart ache he had caused over the years.
'Just one thing.' Harry stood so strong, so calm.
'If it is not love that will save you this time, you must believe that you have magic that I do not, or else a weapon more powerful than mine?' Voldemorts scorn and incredulity was almost pitiful when compared to Harry's strength and calm. There was no doubt in his mind that Harry was indeed more powerful than Voldemort.
'I believe both.'
'You think you know more magic than I do? Than I, than Lord Voldemort, who has performed magic that Dumbledore himself never dreamed of?' Not a flicker of fear or uncertainty crossed Harry's face. His respect for the bespectacled young man grew even more.
'Oh, he dreamed of it, but he knew more than you, knew enough not to do what you've done.'
'You mean he was weak! Too weak to dare, too weak to take what might have been his, what will be mine!' The anger that always erupted within him at somebody criticising Dumbledore was like an angry beast. It calmed only at Harry's words.
'No, he was cleverer than you, a better wizard, a better man.'
'I brought about the death of Albus Dumbledore!' The sadness that he always felt at the loss of Dumbledore who had become a father figure to him after his own fathers' death was pungent.
'You thought you did. But you were wrong.' Confusion.
'Dumbledore is dead! His body decays in the marble tomb in the grounds of this castle, I have seen it, Potter, and he will not return.' He couldn't be alive … could he?
'Yes, Dumbledore is dead, but you didn't have him killed. He chose his own manner of dying, chose it months before he died, arranged the whole thing with the man you thought was your servant.' Professor Snape?
'What childish dream is this?'
'Severus Snape wasn't yours, Snape was Dumbledore's, Dumbledore's from the moment you started hunting down my mother. And you never realised it, because of the thing you can't understand. You never saw Snape cast a Patronus, did you, Riddle?' A doe … Lily. Of course it had been obvious as he had watched the students when they had been on the grounds. Lily and Severus had visited him a few times, had helped him in the forest on one occasion. The adoration in his eyes for Lily…
'Snape's Patronus was a doe, the same as my mother's, because he loved her for nearly all of his life, from the time when they were children. You should have realised, he asked you to spare her life, didn't he?'
'He desired her, that was all, but when she had gone, he agreed that there were other women, and of purer blood, worthier of him –' The idea was almost laughable, the young Severus Snape barely out of school, turning his back on Lily? No the two had had a strong friendship, even when they had not talked for years. Each held the other in high regard. They both loved each other, although some transgressions could not so easily be forgiven.
'Of course he told you that, but he was Dumbledore's spy from the moment you threatened her, and he's been working against you ever since! Dumbledore was already dying before Snape finished him!' Dumbledore had always trusted Severus, had always assured everyone that he was on their side. He had believed him, but knowing why… it helped cement the truth to his mind, and he saw as Voldemort realised his folly in trusting Snape.
'It matters not! It matters not whether Snape was mine or Dumbledore's, or what petty obstacles they tried to put in my path! I crushed them as I crushed your mother, Snape's supposed great love! Oh, but it all makes sense, Potter, and in ways that you do not understand!' Voldemorts laughter and voice had taken on a madder light. This was not a sane person. This was a being that was so far removed from humanity that he no longer was even a sliver of the person he had been.
'Dumbledore was trying to keep the Elder Wand from me! He intended that Snape should be the true master of the wand! But I got there ahead of you, little boy – I reached the wand before you could get your hands on it; I understood the truth before you caught up. I killed Severus Snape three hours ago, and the Elder Wand, the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny is truly mine! Dumbledore's last plan went wrong, Harry Potter!'
'Yeah, it did. You're right. But before you try to kill me, I'd advise you to think about what you've done … think, and try for some remorse, Riddle …' Remorse, that monster could no longer feel remorse. Not after everything he had done. He had lost his soul too long ago for him to be able to remember what remorse was.
'What is this?'
'It's your one last chance, its all you've got left … I've seen what you'll be otherwise … be a man … try … try for some remorse …' Harry was so much like Dumbledore. Willing to give everyone that chance, the chance to change for the better.
'You dare –?'
'Yes, I dare, because Dumbledore's last plan hasn't backfired on me at all. It's backfired on you, Riddle.' Harry knew he could win. Harry had a plan. He had seen that gleam in his eyes before. Had seen as time and time again Harry had figured it out, had puzzled out that minute detail that would enable him to remain on top of everything that life could throw at him.
'That wand still isn't working properly for you, because you murdered the wrong person. Severus Snape was never the true master of the Elder Wand. He never defeated Dumbledore.' Sadness filled him as he thought of the desperately lonely and chronically angry Slytherin, Severus had deserved more than having to serve two masters. He had had a lonely life and his death would not have been pleasant, Voldemort was ruthless with both followers and enemies, he had seen whilst captive in the forest Voldemorts ruthlessness with his Death Eaters…
'He killed –' Voldemort was getting more and more desperate. Whilst Harry was remaining calm. He was almost condescending in the way that he was talking to the Dark Wizard.
'Aren't you listening? Snape never beat Dumbledore! Dumbledore's death was planned between them! Dumbledore intended to die undefeated, the wand's last true master! If all had gone as planned, the wand's power would have died with him, because it had never been won from him!'
'But then, Potter, Dumbledore as good as gave me the wand! I stole the wand from its last master's tomb! I removed it against its last master's wishes! Its power is mine!'
'You still don't get it, Riddle, do you? Possessing the wand isn't enough! Holding it, using it, doesn't make it really yours. Didn't you listen to Olivander? The wand chooses the wizard … the Elder Wand recognised a new master before Dumbledore died, someone who never even laid a hand on it. The new master removed the wand from Dumbledore against his will, never realising exactly what he had done, or that the world's most dangerous wand had given him allegiance … The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy.'
'But what does it matter? Even if you are right, Potter, it makes no difference to you and me. You no longer have the phoenix wand: we duel on skill alone … and after I have killed you, I can attend to Draco Malfoy …' Fear for another young man, even one he did not particularly like filled him. No person deserved to be attacked on another's whim.
'But you're too late. You've missed your chance. I got there first. I overpowered Draco weeks ago. I took this wand from him.' There was a pause. Almost every eye entranced by the wand in Harry's steady hand. 'So it all comes down to this, doesn't it? Does the wand in your hand know its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does … I am the true master of the Elder Wand.'
Great relief filled him at Harry's words. Harry was the master of the Elder Wand. He would be able to make it through this. He would stop the death and bloodshed and fear that had ravaged the Wizarding World. As both wizards raised their wand's he felt all breath leave his body. The urge to protect Harry was so strong. But his belief that Harry would survive, that Harry would defeat Voldemort did not waver.
'Avada Kedavra!'
'Expelliarmus!'
And with the two bright lights it was over. Voldemort was dead. Harry had done it! Harry had lived! Harry had done what countless witches and wizards had been trying to do for nearly thirty years. Voldemort was dead. And he wasn't coming back.
Hagrid knew that for the weeks, months even years ahead he would awaken in a sweat shaking and with tears racing into his beard at the sight of Harry falling in a blaze of green light. But it would be ok. Because Harry had died for them, for all of them. Because that was who Harry was.
But Harry had done so much more. He had come back.
