A/N: This would not stop haunting me. I am getting the first two chapters up and then getting back to work on Frozen Hearts. I actually love the premise of this one.
WARNING: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH! No smut at all here. I know, shocker right?
With Love,
Korrupted.
Disclaimer: I do NOT own Harry Potter. Trust me, you wouldn't want me to, anyways.
Harry Potter stood in front of the pensieve, his eyes dark in confusion. He was alive only to die? He was another Horcrux? His green eyes darted about wildly, suddenly feeling as if the Headmaster's office was far too small and getting smaller by the second. He was the Boy Who Lived, but for how much longer? His friends still had to contend with Tom and defeat Nagini before they could end the reign the evil wizard had over the magical world.
And then there was Professor Severus Snape.
The professor he had always hated, had always enjoyed seeing halted in any plan and action, had been protecting him. Even in his first year against Quirrell's plotting, Snape had protected him. In his third year, Harry could clearly recall the man he hated most firmly planting himself between the Golden Trio and Remus in werewolf form and taking a direct slash for them. On and on, his thoughts started to connect, the subtle expressions and mannerisms all suddenly clear as day. Professor Snape had been watching over him, protecting him in the memory of the one woman that he would ever love. Still, he had to fulfill his fate.
He knew that he had to die at the hands of the wizard who killed his family, murdered his secret protector, allowed the deaths of Tonks, Sirius, Remus, and Fred, and was threatening the lives of his friends. There was no choice, and it was maddening to him. How could Dumbledore have been so cold in the phrasing of his death? How could the old man be so cool about the loss of his life, of making all that Snape had done to keep him safe in vain? 'Because there was no choice.' Harry realized, feeling as if all of the fight had been drained out of him. He had as little choice in this as his former Headmaster had. Slowly, as if in a daze, Harry Potter looked around the office one final time, taking in all of the sights as if for the first time. This would be the last time he would see the looming chair, the snoring paintings of witches and wizards long since gone in their frames, the empty perch of Fawkes. He could hear each breath, feel each fiber of his clothing as it brushed against his skin. He had never known such clarity, and it was such a shame that it had to happen only a handful of minutes before it would all slip away.
Harry's bright green gaze drifted to the door, moving towards it as if not in his own body, his mind both quiet and raging as he continued on autopilot. Stone stairs were suddenly under his trainers; when had he made it to the many moving stair cases? He couldn't remember getting this far, but it wasn't too important, stepping over books that were strewn all over the landing before turning onto another set of stairs. Below him, he could see the forms of Ron and Hermione huddled at the foot of the stairs he was currently walking down, nodding very subtly to himself in conviction. He had to go do this, and they couldn't stop him. No matter how much it hurt him, he wouldn't let them stop him this time. His two best mates. The Brightest Witch of Her Age, and the Ginger Lion; what would life have been like without them? Obviously, very short as they were crucial to him living past his first year here.
He walked closer, Hermione looking over her shoulder and standing swiftly upon seeing him approaching, her face a mixture of confusion, relief, and worry. Ron was far slower to turn, likely still in shock from the loss of Fred. "Where have you been?" She questioned in a hushed voice that betrayed her worry as the redhead next to her straightened.
"We thought you went to the Forest." The other male spoke just as quietly as the Gryffindor girl had, his blue eyes full of relief at seeing him still in the school. Why did it pain him so much to tell them this final task? 'Tell them to kill the snake, then kill Voldemort. Everything will be fine after that. You will do what you need to to keep them all safe.' He told himself, but it was weak sounding and half-hearted. Nobody truly wants to die, but he had to.
"I'm going there now." He responded in a voice that was far more confident than he felt.
Ron spoke as he walked past his two closest friends, his voice breathless. "Are you mad? No." Harry crossed the next landing, his eyes on the stone floor. 'Keep going. You have to do this, don't let them stop you.' He demanded of himself. "You can't give yourself up to him." His friend continued.
His footsteps faltered, the Boy Who Lived coming to a halt finally at the edge of the landing, his gaze still downcast. He should keep walking, leave them behind with the simply directions of killing the snake and them the enemy before meeting his end. "What is it Harry?" He heard Hermione inquire, her voice strong and calm somehow.
The Golden Boy nodded to himself again, biting the inside of his lower lip to keep from tasting the grime that coated his mouth as he made his choice, turning to face them both. This was it. He would give them his final instructions and leave. That was all there was to it.
"What is it that you know?" She went on, her brown gaze prodding gently as their eyes hesitantly met. She was brilliant. If only he had a tenth of her genius, then maybe he could think of a million other ways that this had to play out. Merlin, did he want to grow old with these two, marry Ginny, and watch as their two families lived out their exceedingly long lives together.
With a shuddering breath in, Harry began. "There's a reason I can hear them. The Horcruxes." He watched as Ron's face fell a bit, as if he had hoped that their leader would reconsider going and fight by their side instead. Hermione's gaze lowered, as if she had recalled a memory best left forgotten, her eyes starting to water before meeting his vivid verdant hues again. He could feel his voice getting thick with unshed tears as he went on. "I think I've known for a while." Harry had to take a moment to calm himself, his eyes dropping to Hermione's charmed beaded bag tied to her denim trousers. "And I think you have too."
He could hear her half-sobbed inhale, knowing that she might be about to forbid him from going, to tell him to remain, and she would sort out a different way to go about this whole mess. He would deny her that. He would stun her if needed, shove past Ron and bolt towards his own demise.
"I'll go with you."
The words the Granger girl uttered were choked with tears, Harry snapping his eyes up to meet hers as streams of tears cascaded down her bruised and dirty cheeks, leaving tiny trails of slightly clean skin. She looked in physical pain, like the words of him leaving them were her own personal Cruciatus Curse. Hermione go with him? He hadn't expected that one. As much as she had always been by his side through everything, he had expected her to fight against him going, not aid him. And he had to admit, he could use her for company before the end, maybe even she could be of more use to the cause by being nearby.
"Hermione, it's really dangerous. There will be Death Eaters everywhere." He reminded her, looking her in the eyes with fear for her life.
"I know. I... I'll stay under the Cloak. Please, Harry. Let me go with you." She pleaded once again.
"Soon, we must all face the choice between what is right, and what is easy."
The words of Albus Dumbledore rang throughout his mind, echoing inside the somehow deafeningly empty space between his ears. She was making her choice, now it was his. Could he allow her to risk her life even more than she had already? Well, not like he could do much to stop her; she was far more proficient at magic than he could ever hope to be with the exception of the Patronus charm. She could hex him to hell and back wordlessly before even a single spell could even be processed in his mind. Even without her wand, she would be able to subdue him. She could be the edge they needed to win.
"All right. But you must do as I say, Hermione." He commanded gently, watching her tearfully nod.
"I'll come too." Ron piped up suddenly, as if only just now he was filled with the desire to face the evil that the ginger refused to call by name.
"No, kill the snake." His eyes were pleading, imploring. "Kill the snake and then it's just him."
Ron stood silent for a few moments before nodding, his eyes stern. Hermione turned and pulled the ginger into a tight embrace, holding him close as Harry watched their faces. His best friend looked close to tears as he held the witch firmly, something in his eyes filled with a deep, sad longing that the scarred wizard couldn't place. After the two of them pulled apart, the youngest Weasley boy locked eyes with him once more. "You both will meet me in the Great Hall when this bloody thing is over. We started this seven years ago together, and I want us to walk out of here the same way. No one else needs to die for this bloody war." He stated, wiping the sleeve of his jumper across his pale, freckled cheeks. "Keep her safe, Harry."
"I'll keep her safe, I promise." He swore, their eyes locked. Hermione would get out of the forest just fine, it was only his own fate that was uncertain.
With that, Hermione opened her purse and extracted the Cloak, draping it over them as they vanished from view, the Boy Who Lived and the Golden Girl both moving through the broken school, then the courtyard, and finally the grounds to the Forest in silence. After they had made it past the first few layers of trees, Harry pulled the cloth off of them and they moved on exposed, walking side by side as their eyes swept around nervously. "Hermione?" He asked, the whisper sounding almost deafening to his ears in contrast to the silence of everything else.
"Yes?"
"Thanks." He confessed.
The prospect of being alone had terrified him deep down, dying alone in the midst of all of the enemy was a very horrible one. At least one person would know the truth about how he had died and share it with the world. She probably would even be able to figure out some fancy spell to crate some sort of living monument to him after the war. "It's nothing, Harry."
Once again, they moved in silence, Harry turning the Golden Snitch over and over again in his pocket as they did so. He knew what was inside of it, and they both knew he would use it. What would he see? How would his family look? So many questions kept running around his head, the duo halting in a clearing at his motion. He lift the trophy out of his pocket and uttered in a soft voice, "I'm ready to die." before gently pressing the cool metal surface to his lips.
Next to him, he could hear his friend holding her breath anxiously, unsure if she was waiting for the Snitch to open, or listening for an ambush. After he removed it, the odd sounds of mechanical whirring was heard, the item slowly opening to reveal the Hallow he had most desired; the Resurrection Stone. Both of them gazed at the small floating object in open wonder, neither daring to even breathe for a few seconds. Slowly, hesitantly, Harry lift his hand to cradle below the Stone, muttering in awe, "The Resurrection Stone..." Before clasping his fingers around it.
He met Hermione's eyes briefly. "I'm probably going to look like a complete nutter, but I have to do this. If you hear anything, I want you to hide under the Cloak and go. Do you understand?" Harry's tone was pleading, but his loyal friend simply nodded.
Turning the item over in his hand three times, the Golden Boy of Gryffindor closed his eyes and focused on the magic that lay within it, on the ones he wanted most desperately to see. When he opened them once more, he and Hermione were no longer alone; the spectral forms of Remus, Sirius, James, and Lily stood around them as well. Green eyes flicked from silver apparition to silver apparition, his mother reaching out one hand to him in the most warm and loving gesture he had ever known. As if driven by some unknown imperative, Harry went to her, ignoring Hermione completely in his haste to speak to the woman he had only seen in pictures and could recall hearing with his own two ears only once before, in Little Hangleton graveyard. He reached out a trembling hand to touch hers, his fingers slipping through her insubstantial form as a sharp jolt of pain hit his heart. He could see her, but not touch her. The thought was painfully sobering, the wizard lowering his arm slowly, Lily Potter watching him sadly, but happily.
"You've been so brave, sweetheart." She told him, her voice soft and warm to his ears. It was like a beloved blanket found once more after being so long misplaced.
Harry had to clear his throat, trying not to cry openly. "Why are you here?" He questioned, shifting a bit. "All of you?"
A bitter-sweet Mona Lisa smile crossed her features. "We never left." The smile hesitantly grew, as if she wasn't quite sure how to assure her son, but she wanted to show him the depth of her love; the love that prompted her to die to save him all those years ago.
He nodded at her words, choking slightly before turning to his right, looking to Sirius next. "Does... does it hurt? Dying?" He questioned.
The figure of his God-father seemed to take a breath in, trying to regain a bit of the confidence he had exuded in life as he replied, "Quicker than falling asleep."
"You're nearly there, son." James told him in a gentle voice full of latent strength.
"I'm sorry." Harry said suddenly, turning to look at each of the ghosts in turn. "I never wanted any of you to die for me." He faced the image of his former professor, the man who had taught him to fight and how to hold onto the good in the face of so much bad. The man who had fallen with his wife just to give their son the hope of a better future. "And Remus, your son-"
"Others will tell him what his mother and father died for." The werewolf's gaze was kind, assuring, forgiving. Harry wished he could forgive himself like they could. "One day, he'll understand."
The green eyed man turned once more to the woman who had used herself to shield him from the magic that should have taken his life all those years ago. The mother who had loved him with every ounce of her being, the woman that Severus Snape had always loved, even after all this time. The woman who shared his almond shaped green gaze. Harry turned to face his father next, the man who had laid down his life to protect his wife and son, knowing that without a wand it was hopeless. He had known he would die, but stood in the path of Voldemort anyways, choosing to fall for his family instead of running in fear. "You'll stay with me..." He questioned.
"Until the end." James replied without hesitation, nodding with his words much like Harry found himself doing throughout his life.
He looked next to Sirius, the man who had been killed to save him from his own folly at the Ministry of Magic. The man who had cheered him on, fought next to him, and aided him as much as he could in the hopes that after the war was over, they could be a proper family at long last. "And he won't be able to see you." Harry prodded, desperate to know.
"No." The only Black Gryffindor replied gently, Harry fully facing him now. "We're here, you see." Sirius pointed to Harry's heart, a smile on his lips.
For several seconds, Harry stood in silence, as if weighing all his options, not recalling Hermione watching only twenty or less paces away as he glanced back to his mother, their eyes locking and holding in silence as she simply smiled at him tenderly. He nodded a few times, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Stay close to me." The wizard requested of the spirits, Lily uttering only one word in reply.
"Always."
It was the same word that Snape had used to describe how long he had loved her, part of the boy vaguely wondering if the woman didn't have a place for the Potions Master in her heart. Instead of dwelling on it, Harry turned from the group and walked back to Hermione, placing the Stone inside her jacket pocket. "I want you to take this. I know you, 'Mione. You would only use it if there was no other choice. It would be safest with you, I'm sure of it." The Boy Who Lived informed her, watching her nod.
"What now?" She questioned in a trembling voice.
What now indeed. "Now, I go to him. After he kills me, Tom will be weakened. Once Ron kills the snake, then you have to kill him. Do you understand?" The nod was sad, the tears running down her face. "Stay hidden under the Cloak. You and I both know that I won't come back. You can tell everyone what happened here."
"Harry, I've got to-" She started, but a hand from Harry hushed her, the boy looking into the trees.
"They're close. Get under the Cloak, now. Stay quiet." He commanded, watching as his brilliant friend once again vanished from view, leaving him seemingly alone in the middle of the Forest.
Harry started walking quietly, hearing hushed voices talking somewhere in front of him among the trees.
"There's no sign of him, my Lord." A male voice informed someone.
There was a whisper so soft, Harry didn't catch it, walking closer and with more determination than before. Slowly, a cluster of Death Eaters and Voldemort himself came into view, the bound form of Hagrid there as well. "'Arry?! No!" The half giant yelled as the Dark Lord turned to face him. "What are y'doin' 'ere?!"
"Harry Potter..." Voldemort spoke in a sort of raspy reverence as he looked at the young wizard before him. "The Boy Who Lived, come to die."
Harry had never been so afraid in his life, never wanted so badly to just run as far away as possible and never look back. But there was the snake. The damn snake that they needed to kill just to be able to then kill it's master. Time stretched on as seconds ticked by, every one of them like a year to him as he waited for that fatal spell. Slowly, Harry closed his green eyes, trying to be brave like his mother. Like his father. Like Sirius, Remus, Fred, Tonks, and Colin.
Like Snape.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!"
