Purgatory
Sequel to Blood tipped Feather
They were in wait, he could smell them. No not they… Her.
Harry grasped at his side by his knee, it was there.
A noise, like the swishing of air, then a thump and then a mist of white. It had already begun, Combat was ensured, but now Harry was on the defensive.
'Aren't I always?' Harry smiled sardonically to himself.
Ducking as he saw another projectile arc overhead, Harry skidded low and tumbled his way behind the Bench. A sudden pounding of feet, crunching dead leaves and thick snow alarmed Harry to the presence rounding the corner. Grabbing his only offensive weapon, Harry pulled back ready to let them have it.
A dripping red blur skidded round the corner and ducked low as another white blur missed him by inches. Turning his head away from the air where he had watched the sphere, His ally came face to face to Harry and his armament.
Raising his arms in supplication,
"Whoa there…" with eyes alight in alarm almost experiencing friendly fire first hand. Harry halted his arm, lowering it once he came face to face with Ron.
"She's just behind the tire, over beside the light." Ron continued, ignoring the cold damnation Harry almost bestowed upon Ron, face first. "She's armed to the teeth."
Taking a peek over the Bench and quickly ducking, Harry surmised that they were pinned. She may have been one but she was the opponent, it gave her an unfair advantage. The opponent always has the Advantage.
"We'll have to make a run for it…"
"We'll get hit mate."
Looking over at Ron with a Bright smile, Ron looked back before a smirk graced his lips. "Got your back."
Together they gathered their ammunition and Charged.
A white blur greeted Harry before his vision went dark and he fell over quickly slipping in the icy patch below. A grunt and thud to his right and Harry could tell Ron had been hit as well.
"You're dead!" A pleased female voice cheered a few meters ahead.
"Nu uh, I just slipped." Ron cried back as he tried to run but forgetting he was still on his back could only manage a slipping motion as he tried to get up.
A bundle of brown hair emerged behind the tire fort. "What? No. I hit you, you're dead." Hermione cried in outrage. A snowball cocked in her awaiting arm.
"No you hit my sca… aaRRrff" Ron contested as he tried to right himself, Almost doing the splits as he regained footing.
All the while, Harry spat at the ground, a leaf that had been in the snow ball had worked its way into his mouth, and everything tasted like muck now.
"Harry, tell him. You're out, I hit you both in the Face." Hermione pleaded for reason, as she charged me with her arm still loaded.
Reaching out gently, Harry Lowered her arm gently as he was afraid she might accidentally smite him in her vigour.
"Thanks for that by the way," Harry remarked sarcastically as he spat another mud flavoured spit at the ground." Hermione cringed at his liquid projectile, by sheer reflex.
"She got us Ron," Harry Admitted.
"Well you didn't have to tell her that" Ron cried in protest, exasperated with his thick friend, throwing his hands in the air in frustrated expression.
Harry smiled at his friends antics.
Then suddenly they were back behind the bench again and fluffy snow was whizzing above their heads again.
"Ok this time, you go out first, and then when she gets you, I'll hit her in the face." Ron instructed.
"Bait!" Harry whispered in outrage.
"Well you clearly suck at strategy" Ron stared at Harry sarcastically.
Neither of them commented on the instant reversal of time, or the fact that Ron was changing the course of events. It just didn't matter. Here was a chance to get it right. And really the stakes were simple and pointless; a game between friends. The Threat was only their prides.
"I officially oppose this plan," Harry cried as he ran out from behind the bench, ducking quickly and slipping into the parks snow for cover as fluffy death missed him by inches.
Continuing his Zigzag, Harry Ran to the play fort for cover as Hermione Pelted more balls at Harry. Only a few of the snowballs actually graced her hands, the Rest simply just flying from her location. That didn't matter either. They still felt like a cold suffocating balls of snow and that's all that mattered in the moment.
No one commented that the world around them, surrounded by shadowed buildings, and empty streets, was all empty.
No one wondered why the only light in the world came from the single lamp post at the centre of this playground.
No one questioned the fact that the Sky was just absent.
It didn't matter.
It was peaceful, and quiet, and nice. The three friends, together again. Fighting the good fight in the only way they knew how… With lobs of snow.
No one ever got hurt by snow in this world. There was no one else in this world to get hurt, and hurting just didn't happen. Such a thing was pointless anyway, when you could just do things right.
The three friends demonstrated this act hundreds of times unquestioningly as they rewrote time over and over, trying to one up one another.
Sometimes it was Ron and Harry against Hermione, sometimes Hermione and Harry against Ron, sometimes it was the three of them against a nameless unseen foe, but they were together. And after each loss, they would just go again. No time to contemplate the loss, just the need to make right what was wrong and to continue on.
Harry didn't have any comprehension of how long he had been fighting, but every battle felt like his first. Wanting to make sure they were still there, Harry looked beyond the light. At the very edge of the light's warmth stood two motes of lights. Stood was subjective, but Harry could tell they were standing - in fact one was leaning against the other. He could tell they were smiling at him.
Below them circled a playful mote, bouncing around the light's perimeter excitedly. Sometimes Harry could tell it wanted to get in but it stayed outside the field of light, just slightly in the shadows.
They were still there, waiting for him. They were not impatient and Harry could tell they wanted him to stay, to get it right on his own terms. When he was ready he could join them, but not yet. He needed to win, just once. They understood and they wanted to wait; they were not put out, or upset. They were overjoyed that Harry was having such fun.
Harry could tell his time was coming, he would win soon.
A Shiver ran up Harry's spine though. That wasn't meant to happen. But it kept happening. Beyond Harry's vision, opposite his family, stood a lone figure in shadow.
They shifted and curled around the figure, hugging its lopsided frame completely but sparsely. Every now and then a patch of shadow would thin and Harry could make out a piece of the figure.
Harry hated when the shivers happened. He never wanted to but he had to look. The world would dim, and his friends would disappear. The only way to get them back was to look. To glimpse a new piece of the hidden man in the shadows.
Harry dreaded looking. He just wanted to carry on, he just wanted to win, he just wanted to cross the field of light and rest with his family.
It had been a long night. So long, that Harry had forgotten that there were meant to be days. But with the sight of the shadowed man Harry knew he would remember.
He would remember what reality was supposed to be like. And it would be harder to get back into the game.
There was a thumping noise in the background.
Thump.
Thump.
The deepness of a drum, but with a muffled silence that indicated it hid layers of complexity.
The world throbbed with the Thumps as Harry slowly turned to look
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Closing his eyes slowly in preparation, Harry continued to look at the figure. Even with his eyes shut he could see.
Thump.
Thump.
THUMP!
He knew that it was ridiculous, seeing through his own eyelids, he could remember the need to conform to the rules of the world. He could grasp at his mind's eye why being able to just redo the past battles over and over would not be possible, and how it simply could not happen.
THUMP!
THUMP!
THUMP!
He had to look, properly look, even though he could see through his closed eyelids. He had to willingly see to get it over with.
THUMP!
Harry opened his eyes to the world.
In front of him stood the man, he was a man, lopsided because of the mutilation that had been done to him… by him?
Tall, and imposing, he stood in front of Harry, the world gone white and throbbing with the THUMPS.
They were building up to a crescendo of beats, he could feel the world around him get louder and more vibrant.
The noises were memories.
All of them. All the memories he tried to ignore, all the things he tried to forget, the days of pain and joy, the suffering and wonder. He had to forget, it was maddening.
THUMP!
The noise became a screech in his chest, and he looked at the man.
A Patch of shadows thinned like vapour around his head. A single hole looked out at Harry.
A single Snake Eye.
Harry kneeled on the ground in suffering, all of it coming back to him, his body aching and leaking. The sounds of the cave, excruciating heat, and the punctures into his person came to him all at once.
But then the moment he kept trying to ignore, the reason he kept forgetting.
Everything stopped: the noise, the THUMPS, the blinding light, as Harry made out one single thing in the void that he existed in.
A knife that lay buried in a prone figure. The silence that emanated from the wound was staggering.
He could feel the Ache in his chest, partly a memory, partly a fact - as if he were stabbed himself. The Black figure stood beyond the body with its arm outstretched as it always did.
It waited for Harry to choose it.
Harry Ran Instead.
After what felt like forever and an instant all at once, the world righted itself. Everything re-emerged and the world was a winter wonderland again.
Harry fell to his knees, waiting for the memories to vanish. He wanted to lose without cost, he wanted to live in a dream. He wanted to forget again, he wanted to win again. Just once.
The snow started to fall once more, and a warm light spread over him. He was at its outskirts just within its range. On the other side stood the motes of light. Harry Patted the whimpering mote in front of him, as it sensed his pain.
Harry scratched at it as he perceived it again.
The figures supported each other in worry, lending their support as they continued to wait on the other side.
Slowly the memories faded with each snowflake, until Harry was left blank and empty again.
Except for one change.
"Come on Harry, It's you, me and Ron against the world." Hermione cheered at Harry's side. Tugging at his left and Ron grabbing Harry's right, they guided him to the Bench where they continued to rebuild the snowballs.
Harry tried to get into it but it wouldn't stop. This wasn't right. It remained. And with it, he was trapped aware.
Thump!
Betaed by:Devgil