I'm back... in what, like 10 years? More like three months to be precise... I told you I'd be back at FF, ITOLD YOU... Oh, and for those who have no idea what I'm talking about or who the hell I am: hi. I'm Cyberspace, and this is my first Harry Potter fic. It is a pleasure to write for the most popular fandom in the history of fanfiction... I don't know if you guys will agree to my writing style though. So far, nobody has objected violently to my sense of writing, but in this fic, I've done some things to Harry that some people may not be able to forgive. (For future references, if you flame me, I really don't give a damn.)
This is enough of an intro. On with the disclaimer.
Disclaimer: This is the first time I've ever written a disclaimer for a Harry Potter fic, so at least I'm not sick of it like I am with the other fandoms. All recognizable characters and non-characters all belong to J.K Rowling, Warner Bro., or EA Games. The plot, however, is ALL MINE. (greedy eyes) The song is Breathe No More, by Evanescence... Awesome song, i highly recommend it. It's in the Elektra OST album.
Breathe No More
I've been looking in the mirror for so long
that I've come to believe my souls on the other side.
The once beautiful blue-green lake was nowhere to be seen. A body of grey, murky water stood in its place. A man of seventeen stood by it, trying to take a look at his gaunt reflection. His matted black hair stood up more than ever, and his green eyes had lost their flare. Among his bruises and scorches was a prominent lightning-bolt shaped scar, once the mark of triumph, now a mark of defeat. After what seemed like forever, the man began to see things. A man that greatly resembled himself and a woman who had his eyes stood behind him, positively beaming. Another man with long jet black hair appeared next to them, waving with a grin. An old man with flowing white hair and beard nodded at him proudly. Last of all, a girl with flaming red hair smiled sheepishly and leaned against him.
Before he knew it, he was smiling back at all of them, and after a while he started laughing. He laughed so hard the water shook; when the noise faded out, the beings were gone, and only his reflection remained.
Oh the little pieces falling, shatter.
Shards of me, too sharp to put back together.
Too small to matter,
but big enough to cut me into so many little pieces.
"Harry."
A voice called him from behind, but he did not answer. Nothing mattered to him at the moment.
"Harry!"
Slowly, Harry turned to face his battered friend. His red hair was more brown than red, caked in mud and extremely disheveled. His clothes, too, were torn just like Harry's own. The rips and scorches painfully represented Harry's own mind; shattered into so many fragments, falling to the ground, cutting him into pieces as well.
"Harry." The redhead called out a third time.
"What do you want?" Harry had somehow found his voice.
"Stop sulking. We've gotta go home."
"No."
"Harry – "
"NO!" Harry stood up so abruptly that the world seemed to shake around him. He threw a stone into the water, and it bounced several times on the surface. He watched it quietly for a few seconds, then heaved a boulder and threw it with a groan.
"Harry,"
"Shut up, Ron."
"I've lost people I love too, you know," Ron said quietly. "You saw Hermione. Her body fell into that water, I saw it."
"Shut your damn mouth, Ron."
"But she died bravely, didn't she? We have to be proud of her! Of all our friends and families that sacrificed themselves, for whom? For you, Harry! For you!"
"I DON'T CARE!" Harry screamed, grasping his hair in agony. "Why do things always happen to me, Ron? Why was I the one that had to kill the Darkest wizard of all time, why did I have to fight against him? Why was it me to lose all the ones I loved, to experience all the pain, all the fury, why was it me? Why?"
"Because you were chosen," Ron replied. "And if you expect a different answer, you're not getting it from me."
"Someday," said Harry angrily. "Someday when I'm old, there will be another one-year-old boy who will be assigned to defeat a Dark wizard, perhaps even Darker than Voldemort himself. History repeats itself, right? He'll go through all the agony, all the resentment, all the emotions no one ever knew existed… and you know what? I won't care. I won't give a damn at all. As far as I'm concerned, it's not gonna be me."
"Why are you telling me this?" Ron said. He edged closer to Harry.
"DON'T COME NEAR ME!" Harry bellowed, raised his fist in an unfaltering punch, and Ron fell to the floor.
If I try to touch her,
and I bleed………
I bleed………
And I breathe………
I breathe no more.
A blinding rage suddenly took over Harry and he was unable to breathe. His entire body simmered with the need of violence, but he tried to control it as Ron rose from the floor.
"Harry, stop. Please," begged Ron, his voice hoarse with grief. His lip was bleeding, and Harry could see he was gasping for breath. But he didn't care. Honestly, he really couldn't care less. All that floated in his deluded mind was the corpse of Ginny, her eyes and mouth wide open, dead even before the flash of green light hit her.
"I told you," Harry whispered to no one in particular. "I told you there would be risks. But you didn't listen. You stubborn little… you really never listen, do you?"
Take a breath and I try to draw from my spirit's well.
Yet again you refuse to drink like a stubborn child.
Lie to me; convince me that I've been sick forever.
And all of this will make sense when I get better.
The whiff of her familiar scent was gone. The sharp intake of breath was gone. Her piercing scream, her grasp on his arm, all was gone… just like the flash of light had disappeared as soon as it came.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!"
"I believe you've already been informed that righteous anger does not work on the Unforgivable Curses?"
"DIE! DIE, YOU FILTHY PIECE OF SCUM!"
"And yet, I am still alive, Potter! Don't you see? Don't you see that it'll never work? You can't kill me, Potter, you are far too righteous, too morally unharmed, too pathetic to ever be able to kill me! You're fighting a losing battle!"
"NO!"
"It's the end, Potter. How sweet. It's what I've been looking forward to for sixteen years."
Voldemort raised his hand, the pale, bony hand holding the wand of doom. There was a light of cruel ecstasy dancing in his eyes, a light that convinced Harry that he was through. He advanced toward Harry, forcing him back, back, and further back until he reached the edge of a cliff.
This is it, Harry thought, bracing himself. We lost. We're doomed…
Once again, a burst of luminous green…but he was still alive.
No, Harry screamed silently. No, this doesn't make sense. Nevertheless a series of scenarios kept going through his head, flashes of gruesome scenes that seemed entirely plausible, yet impossible to believe.
Please. Harry begged in his head. Don't let it have happened…
I know the difference between myself and my reflection.
I just can't help but to wonder which of us do you love.
"HERMIONE!"
Hermione?
Harry's eyes fluttered without him realizing it. What he saw was something that would haunt his dreams for the rest of his life, and along with it came a sledgehammer of grief and guilt.
Hermione. Hermione, who was not only shrewd but also as brave as she was intelligent, lay there with a countenance of unmistakable peace. Completely unharmed except for the minor scratches on her body, the lifeless torso laid there, her body irreparable and her soul irrevocable.
A look of utmost horror took over Harry's complexion, but Mother Nature did not give him time to settle his emotions. With a rumble, the ground below him quivered and began to fall.
Harry frantically scrambled onto solid ground. When he looked back, he saw Hermione's corpse, arched gracefully in the air. Her blank eyes seemed to stare at him, and he stared back.
Time stopped. Harry reached out for Hermione's limp hand, determined to save her body, but her fingertips slipped out of reach. She fell, down and into the water with a sickening splash.
I love you, Ginny. I love you, Hermione. Sirius, Professor Dumbledore, Mom, Dad… I love you all so much. But he had to take it all away. All the people I love, all of them are lost. Because of himHarry thought. He thought so hard that his head was about to burst.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" the words were out of his mouth spontaneously. He didn't expect it to work, really; it was just a means of venting his anger. Yet a millisecond passed as an intense beam of green light spurted out from his wand, towards Voldemort. A split second before it hit, Harry could see the terrified look on Voldemort's catlike features, and a vague thought crossed his mind.
It was true. So love did get rid of him after all.
It was over. He was gone, just like that, so much as a pile of ashes on the ground. After all this immense suffering, after so many losses, after years of agony… the ending seemed so… futile. Harry had longed for this moment ever since Sirius's death. But now that it was all over, he couldn't believe it.
And he wasn't even happy…
So I bleed………
I bleed………
And I breathe………
I breathe now.
"Ron," Harry spoke after a long moment's reminiscence. "I really can't… I can't take this anymore. I'm sorry."
"What? What are you talking about? What are you gonna do?" Ron asked, his voice rising with fear.
"You'll have to go home alone, Ron. I'm really sorry."
"Wait – No! Don't!"
Harry turned his face to face his school friend. His face held no emotion. He stared and stared, and his flickering eyes seemed to fade. A thin thread of crimson was still flowing from the cut on his face. Ron looked into Harry's eyes and saw pain. Pain, and nothing more.
"Lupin's still alive," said Ron finally, finding his voice. "The last of the Marauders, and he's still alive!"
"Still alive, but living in pain," Harry replied, chuckling mirthlessly. "Living in pain for the rest of his life. I don't want to do that."
"You haven't lost everything, Harry, you still got people who love you! My mom, my dad, Lupin – "
"They probably don't want anything to do with me anymore," said Harry. "I killed their daughter. I put your life at risk thousands of times. No one deserved to go through that. No one but me. The Chosen One."
"That's not true," said Ron, by now desperate. "I went through all this because I wanted to, and you know that."
"Exactly," said Harry. "But so did Ginny and Hermione. They might have wanted to help me through everything, but do you really think they wanted to die for me?"
Ron didn't answer. He couldn't. He did nothing but stand there, speechless, his heart aching with dread, wanting to do everything he could for his friend, anything to bring the real Harry back… but at the same time knowing that he couldn't.
"Stay alive, Ron, please. No one needs to do this but me."
Harry smiled. He loved his friend dearly, he loved everyone else that managed to stay alive, but he had already lost so much… So much, that it wasn't even possible to put his head around it. And so he dies. And so he stands there, taking in the remains of this horrid world before he dies.
"Cheers," Harry took a swig of the potion and slumped to the floor.
Bleed………
I bleed………
And I breathe………
I breathe………
I breathe………
I breathe no more………
His glasses askew, his eyes blank, his face contorted peacefully… he breathed no more.
My fics are always like this... honestly. My readers are gonna get extremely bored. I need a new writing style... but then again, then my writing wouldn't be mine at all!
Review. Just review, and there just may be another chapter... or two... nudge nudge, wink wink.