xxxHARRYPOTTER
OOC. Post-Warish, InsaneHarry! ONESHOT. Spoilers!

xxxI DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTERxxx


Could it be?

Yes, that faded princely man was once a vibrant young lad, Harry Potter, hero to all.

Dudley cannot stand to look at cousin anymore, he remembers how the freaks had taken him away to fight some freak-war, he remembers how Harry never stopped treating him like family even when he treated him like shit, when they had taken him away he still screamed for the Dursley's compassion.

"I'm too young to fight Dudley," he had said to him one lonely night so long ago. Dudley remembers his English classes from years gone by, he remembers Miss Havisham from 'Great Expectations' and is reminded eerily of Harry, two people who refused to move on. Except one of them was frighteningly real.

Dudley is creeped out by his cousin, he reduced his visits to simply once a year and it was as if Harry did not move, he only aged.

Dudley looked at his wife, they were married young and still together, Mary thought Harry was a rather queer person too.

"I can see him now," said Dudley softly to Mary at their quiet little dinner table.

"Sat in that chair of his," added Mary as they contemplated this years visit.

It had been the same as any other, except this time, Dudley very nearly cried for the cousin that he had never liked.


It was night time, in the living room of Grimmauld, the curtains were open and a boy was sat in his chair.

"The sun looks strange today," said Harry, when Dudley had come downstairs for water, a glass had been left for him on the table, as if Harry already foresaw this.

"Why?" asked Dudley, staring at his cousin. His face was as white as the Victorian doilies fitted so perfectly on the table, his lips used to be moist, but were left dry, his face used to be round and he used to have a child's rosy cheeks, now his cheeks were hollow, his face angular to the bone as though starvation had hurt his soul. His rich garments were faded, torn and hung off his figure, his hair was weedy and uncared for and had grown to his waist from years of no care. There were ugly bags beneath his dull green eyes that looked almost gray on nights like tonight.

The same crack ran through the lense of his glasses, the same one that had been there for years.

"It's hiding behind the moon," replied Harry.

Dudley wanted to leave but something quite strange was going on, he stood rooted the the spot and watched.

The moonlight streamed into the room from the window beside Harry who looked almost wraith-like, ghoulish even.

This is the look of a faded princely man, he used to be beautiful, men and women would throw themselves at him, but now he had withered like a rose without the sun.

"Won't you join us Dudley? The night is too pretty," said Harry softly, his lips twitching into an almost-smile, the room was dark and the closer Dudley came the more he could see.

Us?

Dudley sat down begrudgingly in an empty chair.

"Look Dudley!" said Harry, smiling for the first time in several years.

"Uncle Remus has returned," he croaked, his voice is dry like a dead animal had shriveled beneath desert-sun, the table was neatly laid out as if they had guests, the candelabra had been lit and Dudley very nearly vomited at what he saw.

"Uncle Remus, back from the Great War,"

Dudley stared, a werewolf's carcass had been slumped into a chair with a suit forced upon it. It smelled rotten, and he very nearly screamed.

"So is Sirius," croaked Harry, with his eyes forced open.

Dudley turned and beside him lay a dead dog infront of an untouched steak.

"I'm afraid me and my wife must leave now," said Dudley quickly, my cousin is insane and I have to get us out of here, freaks! All of them!

"It was very rude of you," said Harry "To leave for the Great War without me beside you,"

"One would almost think you didn't love me," joked Harry, smiling widely, he pretended to not notice Dudley leave and drag his wife along with him.

"That doesn't matter though, we have an eternity to apologize to each other," said Harry quietly, drinking his ruby tea.

The werewolf carcass shifted into a different skeletal form of a man slumped in a chair, the dog changed to a smaller skeleton smiling back at Harry. The corpse in Sirius's chair fell forwards head-first into the steak with a loud clatter, but Harry paid it no mind.

This is what happens when you drip polyjuice on a corpse.

"Sleep tonight Sirius if you must, we'll dine again tomorrow, and the day after that if you like,"

"We have an eternity now,"


It's just as that song said, Old Soldiers Never Die, at least, that is what Harry thought, because Sirius and Remus would never die, not like traitorous mom and dad who died before Harry could say "I love you" back.

You won't die, I won't let you, thought Harry, sitting in the same chair he had sat in, since the very day he'd read in the Prophet the war was officially over.

That aged newspaper with yellowed corners sat in his lap.

"I don't care how long I must wait, Albus Dumbledore will return from the Great War to join us, he must,"

Albus DumbledoreDate of Death: June, 1997


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