▌Summary: "It all ends" after the war and Harry Potter has fallen for this saying, too. He had lost many too close, but never really lost his mind. And now finally he finds himself falling into Darkness. He fell in love.
▌Warnings: Death, suggestive material and angsty stuff.
▌Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling. Adelheid belongs to me. :D
▌A/N: Written and dedicated to my best friend for her 15th birthday~! Enjoy, pooface. The present is in normal font; the past or dreams in italics. 3,780 words.
Music Box:: Adelheid's Melody ("Kiss The Rain" by Yiruma)
Adelheid
Her name was Night and she had begun the night for him.
She was a distant memory—as good as dead—but her existence was as clear as the black void of the sky and the crystal waters of the ocean. It seemed as though she did belong to the winds of dusk, and the ocean.
Her hair was as dark and thick as a dozen ravens' feathers, and fell in waves down to her hips.
She was tall; taller than space and seemed like such a powerful tower that could not possibly crumble to pieces.
Her eyes, oh, her eyes; if words can describe them, were like polished almonds sparkling brown.
She was a dark beauty. She had tanned olive skin and sharp features that would compete with, and win over, a title of the most beautiful sculpture on earth. And she was too magical to belong on Earth. She was an angel—his angel. She belongs with him.
Her name was Leila Rahman, which mean "Night" and "Most Gracious."
She didn't like her name for childish reasons, reasons he couldn't recall because it had been so long. But he remembered she liked to call herself "Adelheid."
I
Dreams
"Adelheid." He emerged from behind the bark of a big oak tree. She didn't jump, scream or do as much as gasp. Instead, she turned around slowly and smiled. He wondered how someone so clumsy and bashful during the day can be so delicate and graceful by night.
"Harry," she answered, nodding once.
They didn't exchange words when he approached her to see what she was doing; when he saw that she was opening the bluebells before their time of bloom; when she silently gestured for him to follow; when he charmed the daisies.
His eyes did not leave her, for he was afraid that he'd lose her again. Again. Revelation hit him, and probably his face, too, since a subtle mask of confusion lit hers.
Her hand lightly placed itself on his arm. He couldn't feel her. He traced his eyes from her hand to her face. She was still confused, but he hardly noticed.
She was too young, from what he remembered. It shocked him how he didn't realise before. She was no older than ten years. How old was he? He gripped onto his clothes and stared at himself in the reflection of the pond, lighted by the Moon. But it can't be. This couldn't be real. Why were they both so young? Why had he already met magic?
"Why—" he broke the silence. Her face was washed with sadness and grief.
Tick, tick... Then a small ting of a golden bell.
Suddenly, Darkness closed in on them. No, just me.
And the last things he saw were those sad brown eyes.
II
The Minister
His open eyes immediately became sensitive to the scorching light that poured in through the curtain-less windows of his room in the Burrow. His mouth felt dry, which made it seem as if he was shouting and screaming in his sleep. It was a wonder why and how the Weasleys could tolerate with him. Nevertheless, he was thankful for their hospitality. He'd been living here for quite a while, now...
He glared at the chirping yellow bird that was irritatingly cuckooing in and out of the wall clock for a good amount of time, and then finally glanced at the hands of the clock. It was already past noon.
Then he broke down in tears.
He had lost so many loved ones, but never had he been so drowned in depression. He really did love her, then.
He had never been this melancholy.
III
First Meeting
She looked so melancholy. The girl sat alone in an empty compartment of the Hogwarts Express. She looked the same age as him. Was it her first day going to Hogwarts, too?
Her dark, wavy hair covered most of her face as her head was bowed. But through a gap in her thick mane, he glimpsed one very bright eye. It was too shiny to be how it'd appear normally, he thought, not to be rude. She looked like she was about to cry, but couldn't—or wouldn't. He wondered if he should approach her and sit next to her.
He suddenly noticed that he had taken a step toward her without thinking, and she noticed as well because she was now staring at him. He couldn't tear away from her almond-shaped eyes that seemed to latch onto his emerald green ones.
Without warning, someone barged into him and left him stumbling. Harry lost focus for a moment then glanced back to the girl in the compartment.
Another girl must've joined her, someone she knew and was probably close to judging by the way they were chatting comfortable with each other. The once lonely girl was now grinning and laughing with whom Harry presumed was her best friend.
He walked away sheepishly.
IV
Predictions
One time ago, Trelawney foretold Adelheid's life and future in front of the whole class in Divination.
"Professor Trelawney predicted a happy but short life for her," Hermione repeated the session after class, nodding pitifully over at Adelheid who was briskly walking out of the classroom, books clutched tightly to her chest.
"A prediction which caused the poor girl to become so paranoid!" Ron exclaimed, unintentionally finishing Hermione's sentence. They stared at one another with open mouths.
Although he avoided speaking about the girl who calls herself Adelheid (for some reason), Harry would rather interrupt the awkward silence that was now surrounding his two best friends. He spoke up: "I think that it was a mistake putting her in Slytherin." Ron raised a curious eyebrow and gave a look which said he was catching on to something. He opened his mouth to say something.
Thankfully, Hermione waved it away. "Yes, it is quite unusual for a Muggle to be in Slytherin, since they're all famous for being rich and spoiled snobs from high-profile families."
"Plus, she's actually a nice person. Good-looking, too," added Ron. Hermione rolled her eyes.
Harry gazed at the Slytherin girl, talking to her best friend, Eleanor, who he recognised belonged in Gryffindor. It wasn't fair that Adelheid was marginalised from her own house just because she was friends with a Gryffindor, and it wasn't fair that she was seen by others as a horrible person just because she was in Slytherin.
Or maybe it wasn't fair because they were never meant to be.
V
Rendezvous
Even though it wasn't right admitting it, Harry Potter could not deny the high feeling of the rush after breaking one or two rules. Nevertheless, the acts of... disobedience were never unreasonable.
He reread the note on the small piece of parchment, double-checking for spelling/grammar errors. A reassuring voice from the back of his mind told him there were none, but he couldn't help but feel a little anxious. If he could just win a few hours with her, George will definitely hand over those ten bucks he betted on to Fred. Not that he actually cared... He wouldn't be the winner of that sum of money. Then what is it, the thing that makes him so drawn to her?
Hours later after midnight, they were soaring across the sky. Surely, she must've known that if they were caught by the all-pink-and-kitten-loving lady—that is, Dolores Umbridge, he felt the urge to spit at the thought of the name—they would be in some huge trouble. Yet she, being as stubborn as she almost always was, insisted that they ride the glittering night sky despite the risk. Two young lovers on one broom.
And they did eventually get caught after barely half an hour alone, together, by Umbridge. The punishment they'd received was far worse than that time when he had letters etched into the skin of his hand. (Speaking of skin, she had nice skin. He was just that fascinated by her, like he was under some unspoken enchantment. But no charm would last as long as... well, since the first year at Hogwarts until now, the fifth.) Lucky for Umbridge and her sadistic ways, it was as easy as killing two birds with one stone. But they weren't dead.
He remembered Trelawney's "prediction" clearly; he was half-assured that she was downright wrong. Half. The other half lingered on because it gave him something to protect and live for, something to remind him that he didn't live just to defeat the Dark Lord.
If they weren't dead yet, then he knew more pain was to come.
VI
Theirs
The bench sat by the lake outside of the Hogwarts castle.
It was his to take, since nobody came to sit and take in the solitary peace that surrounded the area. Nobody came to disturb the grass which grew around it. Nobody came to disturb him.
It was a place where he ran to; empty his mind of all troubles that seemed to cling onto him—almost magnetically—wherever else he went. A place where no one can question his actions, him and his lightning bolt-shaped scar.
He had thought that this atmosphere would keep forever. And he was absolutely not incorrect.
It was the night the Greatest Wizard of All Time died. Midnight. It was after school hours, but the punishment for breaking the rules was of no importance to Harry Potter now that the Head teacher of Hogwarts has passed away. He walked in the dark, reaching his destination.
What he found there was like a breath of fresh air. Well, at first, it wasn't like that... Actually, it was more like suffocating from holding his breath too long.
It was like reliving the day he first caught sight of her.
Her head was in her hands, causing her locks to hang over. It was happening all over again; to approach her... Then he noticed that Eleanor wasn't with her—the girl was always there. She was his friend, too, but secretly, he'd wished for her to not be there... Just for once. And now he had this chance. He will not walk away again.
"Adelheid?" His voice seemed to have a mind of its own. It was unnecessary and vague enough as it was to remember that she preferred to be called by that name.
Her head shot up almost automatically, sending the dark tumble of waves behind her face. It was like her senses were on edge, as if she was all too aware of her surroundings. "Harry?"
He smiled, hopefully in a friendly way. "Can I sit?" She nodded slowly. He didn't sit right away, though. He noticed how her eyes were rimmed in bright red. It came to his realisation that she'd been crying for a long time—and a lot—now.
He didn't ask why she was crying right away. He knew how he hated to be asked when he was feeling too upset to speak, nonetheless explain, so he guessed that maybe she'd feel this way too.
It turns out that he was right because he watched as she lifted her head slightly and gazed into the vast space before them dreamily without a single breath. Her eyes did not leave the lake's waters. She sighed. His eyes did not leave hers. She was first to speak up: "I've always wanted to swim in that lake."
He grabbed her hand. "Let's swim, then." It took her by surprise.
VII
Her First Kiss
He remembers the first kiss. It was her first kiss, and he felt somewhat guilty for being the one to take it away from her, as if the act was stealing away her purity. It was his third kiss and his last kiss.
The first was with Cho in the Room of Requirement. It had been wet and sloppy; hence he felt that it wasn't too special.
The second was with Ginny, also in the Room of Requirement. It had been unexpected and déjà vu-ish, so he felt that it wasn't special, either.
His third was with Adelheid and she was his last. It was special—not because it didn't happen in the Room of Requirement—because it was a confirmation of their hearts.
As her smooth, full lips melted onto his lips and his onto hers, he felt their hearts entwine. That was the definite moment when they became one. Not when they first met, not when they had danced a Yule night away, not when they went for that swim. It was this moment when she was his and he was hers. It was so true: the truth. That was the day when he realised that they were truly in love.
VIII
Silence
Sometimes he thought that the silence was a moment of the connection between them. Sometimes he thought wrong.
Leila Rahman looked lost, walking around the castle on her own before lunch. He offered her help. "Are you lost, Leila?" Her lashes fluttered, not intentionally, for the fact that a boy was actually talking to her, not to mention remembering her name. However, he just took this reaction as normal since, well, he is The-Boy-Who-Lived and he was beginning to grow used to all the fame he was getting.
"No," she began defensively, "and call me Adelheid." He nodded slowly. She heaved a sigh. "Okay, I'm lost. Do you know where the cafeteria is?"
"Cafeteria?" He repeated, breathing a little bit heavier than usual. It was like the first time he met her, which wasn't so long ago. In fact, it has been less than twenty-four hours ago. Silence lingered in the air like a thick bowl of fog, which he used to take the time to analyse her features once again. He ticked them off like a checklist: dark, raven hair in thick waves down to her back; tall figure, almost the same height as himself, a boy; eyes glittering brown and shaped like soft almonds . Then it took more time for him to realise that he'd been staring at her for longer than comfort, she'd been staring back at him curiously, and even more time for her words to effectively sink in. "Oh, you mean the Great Hall?" He didn't know why he sounded so uncertain, so nervous, over a dining room.
"Uh, yeah." She nodded quickly. "That's what I meant."
He glanced at her robes: they were black like his, but rimmed with green and an emerald serpent was stitched onto the fabric. "Why aren't you with your Slytherin friends?" As soon as the words escaped his mouth, he wished he'd kept it shut. Surprisingly, she didn't take the label seriously.
"I don't know," she said honestly. "I'm looking for my best friend." She emphasised the last part. She smiled knowingly to herself then smiled straight at him, genuinely. "She said to meet up at the Great Hall..." She blinked. "She's a Gryffindor."
"Okay." He briskly turned around and started walking. He was so caught up in his raging thoughts that he completely left her standing there, still wondering where the "cafeteria" was.
A couple minutes later, Harry saw the very different Slytherin girl enter the Great Hall. He immediately slapped a palm on his face, dragging it downwards. How can I be so stupid? He thought. Leaving her there like an idiot!
Adelheid sat at the Slytherin table without even touching the food on her plate. She was looking around, then finally meeting his eyes and paused. He stared back.
Another Slytherin girl he couldn't identify approached her. Adelheid glanced back at him for about a millisecond, so quick that he almost didn't catch it. He felt like the eye contact lasted a whole minute, but then she drove her attention back to the girl. Didn't she say her best friend was a Gryffindor? He thought to himself, feeling betrayed.
Suddenly, a tiny girl burst through the magnificent doors that were so huge compared to her. She ran toward Adelheid's direction and skidded to a halt in front of her, smiling mischievously. Her robes were also black, but rimmed in red with the lion symbol for Gryffindor woven into it. It looked like the girl expected something from the person before her, because in less than a second Adelheid pulled the small girl into a bear hug, grinning. The Slytherin girl just looked at them with utter shock a step away, which was then immediately replaced by absolute disgust and moving back to her seat without the slightest interest.
On the other hand, though he too was surprised, he was feeling anything but disinterested at the moment. Curiosity made him want to find out more about her; why was she so different from the rest of the Slytherins?
Harry sank into his chair, feeling guilty for thinking wrong.
IX
The Fight
Then there was the fight, because neither Harry nor Adelheid could define it as a mere argument.
They were inside the tent, bickering, at first. Harry must've said something awful, because Adelheid screamed at him in reply.
"Take it off!" She grabbed at him.
"What, my shirt?" He smirked, pushing her away.
She advanced again, reaching for the serpentine object around his neck. He laughed at her cruelly, pushing her on the bed behind them, pushing himself onto her.
"Harry, take it off now!" She growled, wriggling in his grasp.
"If you say so..." He started to unbutton her shirt, one hand still gripping tightly onto her wrists.
"Stop!" He wouldn't. "No!" He couldn't. "Please, Harry..." He shouldn't.
Her tears were on the verge of spilling out. He'd never witnessed her cry, ever. The serpent locket dangled from his neck. He stared at her. Sounds of slithering echoed in his mind. There were now flesh-coloured rings circling the skin where he had roughly griped onto her wrists. Her tears; he had to stop them. He hastily wrenched off the locket and tossed it on the ground, half-angry; half- afraid.
Belatedly, Ron and Hermione flew in. "What's all the noise?"
They took one look at Harry, crouching over Adelheid—whose shirt was on the floor along with the horcrux—and then both stumbled out looking traumatised.
She wouldn't speak to or even glance at him since then.
X
The Yule Ball
It was the night of the Yule Ball. Harry desperately wanted to ask Cho Chang to the dance, he did, but she turned his down for someone else. Harry learned that the mystery date was Cedric Diggory and he believed that there was no way he'd compete with a seventh year.
When all seemed to be hopeless and stuck with Parvati Patil, all eyes turned to the top of the staircase. Harry did not notice. All he could see was Cho and her lovely oriental-themed robes.
"She looks beautiful." He heard Patil gasp beside him.
"Yeah, she does." But his partner was not talking about Cho Chang—she was turned the other way and he quickly realised this. Harry spun around.
There were three figures on top of the stairs, but Harry only saw one. He, too, gasped at the heart-stopping sight.
She was wearing a long, flowing midnight blue dress that flattered her curves, with tiny diamonds glued to the top half like clusters of stars in the night sky, and the ends flared out gracefully, making her look like a magnificent creature of the sea: a captivating mermaid. What emphasised this further was her hair; left naturally to fall down her back in glossy waves.
He didn't remember her until now, no matter how mean and selfish it sounded. From the beginning, he'd tried to push away the idea of, perhaps... liking her.
He didn't realise he'd been gaping at her until she approached him. "Adelheid," he breathed, inhaling vanilla, chocolate and strawberries. It was strange to smell like so many desserts, but he couldn't help but bathe gleefully in the sweet scents.
"Harry." She nodded, smiling.
He didn't notice Patil letting out a small squeak and stomping off. Adelheid was too beautiful to push away now.
XI
Secrets
And even to this day, she had kept something from him. Something could mean loads of other things. She kept them like they were her life. At times, he suspected that it was something similar to what the Order of the Phoenix had done, "for his greater good." The words had hurt him severely. The thought of her keeping a secret from him, for his own good, the thought had cut him like a knife, even if it was just a thought.
He hated it. He hated it so much.
He hated it when his friends, who meant the whole world to him, protected his life by risking their own. He hated it when they would look at him and her walking side by side—gossip—but at the same time she'd been awfully quiet. He hated it when he'd pour his heart's contents out to her and she wouldn't budge doing the same. It wasn't fair.
If only he could glimpse at the delicate sight of her one last time...
His eyes clouded over. Was it because of his tears? Or was it because of his growing emotions? Either way, it didn't matter, not anymore. We're already dead. He didn't care. He didn't know.
XII
Death
Her death was a blur. It was unexpected, and it almost killed him, too. But it gave him time. But he didn't want time. But he needed her to live!
Her death was a blur. It was noble, and Adelheid meant "of Noble Kin." But he couldn't think when their end occurred.
Her death was a blur. It happened between a flash of red and blue. And he can't take this anymore.
Between red and blue, her soul was golden. She was truly a Gryffindor, after all. After all this time, he'd told her and himself that, always.
XIII
Drowning
She was one of the chosen being held captive.
Come seek us where our voices sound
We cannot sing above the ground
And while you're searching, ponder this
We've taken what you'll sorely miss
An hour long you'll have to look
To recover what we took
An hour's gone, the prospect's black
Too late, it's gone, it won't come back
The song mocked him, but when he caught sight of her, the lyrics flowed from one ear out the other.
Under the sea, she blended in breathtakingly. The black abyss of her hair was a mirage behind her angelic face.
He thought he was swimming. "I only see her now." But he was drowning in the Dark. "I can save her."
It all ends.