Harry Potter stood in the Forbidden Forest, his hands clutching the Resurrection stone as if it was a life-line. His parents, Sirius, Remus… all of the, stood before him. He'd missed them so badly.
They were helping him. Not in a physical; no one could do that now.
They were helping him collect his nerve together. It was time for him to sacrifice himself for the light. He had to die for them – well, not exactly for them, but for all those they left behind when they died. Harry was ready to sacrifice himself for them. He had to.
They deserved to live. And sure, Hermione and Ron would miss him, but in the end, the lives of many were more important than his own. Harry looked up at this mother – Merlin, she was beautiful. Her red hair – in the same style as the day she died – cascaded down her shoulders.
In every fiction book (which wasn't a lot) Harry had ever read, the girls were never perfect. They were always almost perfect, but their nose was too long, or they had a crooked tooth, or they were too tall. There was never a perfect girl. Perhaps the writers of those books thought that made the characters more believable.
If that was true, then Lily Potter would seem unbelievable to them. There wasn't a flaw on her skin. Her eyes were bright green – like his, but they had a shine that his didn't. Her red hair – that looked so much like Ginny's – was wavy and long. Lily's smile was bright, and it seemed to shine in the darkness. He longed to let her pull him into a hug, but there would be time for that after he was…
dead.
She was perfection, and Harry could feel something inside of him (excitement?) for when he would get to join her.
His father, on the other hand, was rumpled and crooked. Even his glasses were lopsided. Although, that didn't take away from his overall appearance. No, instead that reminded him of Arthur Weasley. Mr. Weasley was the most fatherly person he had ever met. It seemed right that his dad gave off the same ruffled exterior.
James was also smiling.
Sirius was nearly as ruffled as James, but he was so different than Harry had ever seen him. Gone was the hint of darkness – of sadness – that surrounded him. Harry had known that Sirius never truly let go his guilt of when his parents died – when he had 'abandoned' Harry. This Sirius had an easy smile that, while it was serious, it wasn't sad.
And to Harry, that was nearly a miracle.
Lupin was different, too. He was much less shabby, of course. He also was smiling, but unlike when he was alive, his smile did hold a tinge of sadness in it.
He was dead. That wasn't why he was upset, though. He'd been reunited with his friends.
Lupin had left his son, Teddy, behind. And he hated himself for that. But there was nothing he could do.
Harry felt the stone once more in his hand. It scratched his thumb, the sharp edge running under it as he caressed the link to his parents.
Then, before he could stop himself, he dropped it. The images of those who'd already died were gone, but Harry knew they were still there. He knew it because the Dementors weren't coming. They were still protecting him, like his mum and dad had in his fourth year.
Harry, feeling numb, broken, withdrawn, walked on forward. Outside, he was cold and silent.
On the inside, he was screaming.
He was scared. It was stupid to not admit it. As a boy of seventeen years, he didn't want to die.
And here he was… walking towards death.
Harry found that his legs wouldn't obey him anymore. They kept walking, even thought every bone – every fiber – in him was screaming for them not to. Perhaps they understood that he had to more than his brain.
His heart knew it.
Harry could hear the Death Eaters before he could see them. For a moment, he had forgotten that he was wearing his invisibility cloak and tried to scramble behind a tree – realizing too late that he wanted them to see him anyway.
"No sign of him, my Lord," a Death Eater said. Harry recognized him as Dolohav. Bellatrix breathed something to Voldemort, but Harry found that he couldn't hear anything over the pounding in his own ears.
"I thought he would come. I expected him to come."
"I was, it seems," Voldemort continued. "Mistaken."
Harry swallowed convulsively. He was trembling; though, he tried his best to quell it.
"You weren't."
Harry's voice was as loud in the deadly silence as he'd hoped. It also held no hint of his fear. Good. He'd expected it to come out stuttering and scared. It was a nice surprise for something to actually go his way. Glancing at Nagini, he knew that destroying the Horcruxes hadn't worked either.
There was still one left.
Harry ripped the cloak off of him, his fingers locking and clumsy. They were coating in a cold sweat; though, he didn't feel cold. It was probably because of the spirits that surrounded him with love and warmth and bravery.
"HARRY! NO!" a voice yelled. Harry turned to see Hagrid. Hagrid was trussed to a tree. He struggled with all of his might, but he couldn't escape. The most he could do was raise a hand – one giant, callused hand – and point it towards him.
"NO! NO HARRY! WHAT'RE YEH-"
"Quiet!" Rowle hissed, and he silenced Hagrid. Harry wished he could tell Hagrid it was okay, but it wasn't, and he knew it.
"Harry Potter," Voldemort breathed. "The Boy-Who-Lived." He said Harry's name almost as a caress as he raised his wand. There was a moment of silence before multiple things occurred at once.
In a second, Voldemort screamed something, and a green light emerged from his wand.
However, at the same moment, Hagrid raised a hand and, pointing it at Harry, he screamed, breaking Rowle's spell,
"PROTEGO!"
In all honesty, it shouldn't have done anything. Not only was Hagrid wandless (and not allowed to use magic,) he was also trying to block an Unforgivable, which was impossible by even the strongest wizard.
Still though, a gush of white light spilled out of his wand. It wasn't the normal shield charm. Instead, it flew at Harry like a large rope.
Harry was blinding by the bright flashing as it surrounded him in a four metre circle. It was spinning, too fast to follow with one's eyes. As it spun, Harry could make out four shadows. The light seemed to make them grow clearer as the world outside the circle melted away.
The ring of light began to close in. It enveloped the first shadow, and the figure disappeared.
The circle was now only 3 metres.
It enveloped two more. Harry could see a slash of red from the remaining figure. Surely, it wasn't his mother?
She shouldn't have been visible to him…
The circle enveloped her.
Finally, it was only centimetres away from touching him. Harry had one moment to look up and see the green light – Merlin, had the circle enveloped the others in such little time? – still closing in.
Then the light touched him, and everything went black.
Seeing his enemy gone, Lord Voldemort roared with anger and spun around, the Elder Wand still clenched in his hand.
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Hey, guys! I finally decided which story to do. That's the last time I ask for your opinions… I felt bad not listening to everyone! Although, most people told me to write both… *grumbles.*
So, here's the first chapter of One Death, Many Echoes.
Tell me what you thought!
Don't worry; the story will start to move faster now. I just needed to get through the first chapter!
Please review!
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter!