Disclaimer: We all pretty much know that whoever writes Fanfiction about Harry Potter doesn't own it, so why bother with the disclaimers?

Summary: Harry had always liked the color red, right up until he hated it.

RED

-tadsfa-

Harry hates the color red

He had used to love it once. The deep red had used to be one of his favorites; it had always meant so much

Red-red like the color of the first rucksack his aunt gave him for his first day of school in his sort-of new clothes as he sat in his seat and listened to Teacher who had a shiny red-red apple on her desk.

Red-red like the color of the House he was sorted into where he made all of his best friends and he got to wear red-red Quidditch robes and fly on the broomstick his godfather bought for him.

Red-red like the color of Ginny's hair that's long and sweet-smelling and thick enough for him to bury his fingers in when she curled up next to him in front of the warm fire in the common room and he could only describe this blissful feeling as red.

Red-red like the color of the Transfiguration book Ron threw at them when he caught them kissing in the boys dormitory and he chased them out to the courtyard and Hermione followed and she and Ginny stood laughing as he and Ron wrestled on the ground in the red-red sunset.

Yes. Harry had loved the color red once. It had meant so much.

Now the color red makes him want to scream or maybe hit something. It still means so much, too much but now red is agony.

Red-red like the color of the scar across the side of his face that destroyed his right eye and Ginny told him it didn't matter as she poured a red-red potion over the burning wound.

Red-red like the color of the spell that hit Remus that caused his chest to explode into gory bits of shredded meat and he had been close enough to feel bits of red-red bone and flesh splatter across his face.

Red-red like the semi-dry blood that coated the floors and walls of Hogwarts in thick streaks and stuck to his shirt and shoes and plastered his hair to his head.

Red-red like the color the water turned when he stood under the shower and the water was as hot as he could make it and he could feel his skin blistering but he needed to scrub and scrub because he could still feel the blood everywhere and Seamus had come in and yelled and tried to drag him out of the boiling shower but he broke Seamus' arm and kept scrubbing because he could still taste it.

Red-red like the color of the shirt Andromeda Tonks was wearing the day he told her she wouldn't be seeing her daughter alive anymore.

Red-red like the color of the flowers that everyone brought to Fred's funeral and Ginny clung to him and cried but he couldn't help her couldn't help himself and he stared out over the sea of red-red petals and the endless tombstones and pretended that George is really GeorgeandFred and nothing has changed.

Red-red like the color of the tie he was given to wear as the Best Man at Ron and Hermione's wedding two years later because Hermione thought his Best Man tie needed to match Ginny's Maid of Honor dress and so he stood in front of the mirror intending to get ready but he was distracted by a picture on the bureau that shows three young children laughing and logically he knows that the dark-haired child is himself but when he turns back to the mirror he can't see anything of the child in the unsmiling face of the man in the reflection and he realizes that he doesn't know who he is anymore.

Red-red like the color of the Head Auror robes he wears for the job he was given because they told him he was a hero and so he sits in his leather chair behind his wide desk in the office with his nameplate on the outside and he signs papers and orders raids and stares out his imitation window at a tree full of red-red leaves.

Red-red like the color of the house of a little muggle-born witch that was attacked by imitation Death Eaters that he was called to because he is the one in charge and inside he had to walk across the red-red carpet that was once grey so his subordinates could show him the body of a baby hung from a ceiling fan and he felt numb and detached when he noticed the red-red color of the rope.

Red-red like the color of the firewhiskey he drinks on the days the memories come too hard and fast and he sits on the bed and trembles and trembles and he thinks he wants to cry but he isn't sure how he hasn't cried in over a decade so he drinks to try to maybe forget and when the faces all begin to blur together most of the time it's the closet he can get to something called normal.

Red-red like the ink on the outside of the letter Kingsley hand-delivered to him because he said it wouldn't be right to mail it and he doesn't open the letter just listens to Ron rage and Hermione complain and plead as Kingsley explained that this wasn't permanent that he wasn't being fired they just thought he maybe needed a good long break and whenever he comes back the Head Auror position will still be his and really this is the best thing for everyone.

Red-red like the color of the couch he sat on in the muggle psychiatrist office that Hermione insisted he go to where Ginny squeezed his hand so tight she cracked his pinky finger when the doctor explained to her and Ron and Hermione that he wasn't well that he was sick sick sick.

Red-red like the color of the eyes that have haunted his dreams and most of his life the bloody crimson of the most vicious eyes in the world always the last thing he sees before he falls asleep and the last thing he sees before he wakes up and he wants to scream but he can't because that would wake up Ron and Hermione and they would know he was still having nightmares and Hermione would force him to take the red-red pills the psychiatrist gave her that he hates because they make him feel restless and paranoid.

Red-red like the color of the handkerchief Ginny twisted in her hands the day she told him she couldn't do it anymore it was too hard and he wasn't getting better and the medication wasn't working and they were broken and she couldn't fix them by herself and he wants to say something maybe about how he thinks he loves her but he isn't sure how to fix them either but he sort of thinks that she really doesn't want this fixed so he stays quiet and watches what was left of them walk out the front door alone.

Red-red like the color of the muggle matches he played with the day Ron and Hermione went out for their anniversary dinner and he broke into the liquor cabinet Hermione had charmed shut the second they left and he started drinking and managed to set his bedroom on fire and thought maybe he should do something but he was so tired and the alcohol and medication Hermione made him take made him confused so he just sat and watched the fire make its way to the kitchen just as Ron and Hermione came home early because they were always so worried about him and they tried to put out the flames but it was growing too fast so they dragged him out of the house and Hermione hit him and yelled at him asking if he was trying to kill himself and Ron cried and he watched the house go up in red-red flames .

Yes. Harry hates the color red. But he's never questioned its place as the most significant color of his life.


A/N: I have no idea why I wrote this, it sort of came to me. I wrote the whole thing while listening to Mumford and Sons (excellent music) and Snow Patrol's 'Make This Go On Forever' (also excellent). I guess this could be taken as semi-canon if you eliminate the epilogue and imagine that Harry witnessed Lupin's death and a few other maybe's. And yes I know there's like no punctuation and the tenses switch around but I intentionally made it like that. It's sort of supposed to be Harry's stream of disjointed thoughts on the color red. Or something. Anyway, review and tell me what you think! And for those waiting for the next chapter of Cataclysm it's coming. It's mostly written it just needs a little more substance and some polish before I post it so you'll have to be patient for a little longer.