Crimson Tale

Like a candle, fading away...

- Get inside. - He whispered to the little creature next to him and they both got inside of the house. The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black standing in front of both, the wizard and the house elf.

Madness fills the air

Easing your bleeding hands

Madness

It is all over now, that damned war is finally over, everything is alright. He and his friends defeated Voldemort, the world is finally in peace, his troubles are over.

All this time he tried to find courage within himself, he tried to be strong enough to end it all, to be the brave Harry Potter he needed to be and he was, he was all that and more. Long ago he decided he couldn't hide behind his grief, he needed to fight, that's what he told to Dumbledor that day, Sirius wouldn't have wanted that. He wouldn't and so Harry didn't, he fought until the end, never gave up. But from time to time you can always give up, just for a while.

He needed to give up, he was just a kid, no matter what kind of danger he has faced, he was a human being, he needed to be weak for once.

Crying tears of pain

Dying in the end

Rescue me

Harry took Kreacher inside of the house, his house, the number 12 of Grimmauld Place will be his place from now on, he needed to get used to live alone with Kreacher, just like Sirius did. Harry, you can't just live on your own, at least not alone, Hermione said, so he had no choice but to to take the house elf with him.

Grimmauld Place never changes, he told himself, even after those attacks, even after Snape's intrusion, it didn't change a thing. The same old elegant house Sirius hated so much. It was a little messy but Harry felt the same cold wind when he entered, the same sadness.

- The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black! - Kreacher cried. - The house of my mistress! I missed it, I missed it! Kreacher hates Hogwarts, really hates Hogwarts.

Harry was hardly paying attention to Kreachers' mumbling. He went upstairs, to Sirius room, his room. Sitting in the edge of the bed, watching at the posters of Griffindor. It was definitely all over, he couldn't think in any problem left to be solved, in any mistery to be discovered, in anything but all his fears and all his pain hidden behind masks during all this time. They were ready to be released.

This infinite quest led us

Away from our love

Our goal was in sight

Hatred and fears

Destroyed everything

The house was full of silence, not even Kreacher's complainments, nothing, not even his thoughts. He took the two-way broken mirror from his bag, holding it with both hands and a lost sight, empty eyes.

- After all this time, I'm still alone. - He started. - Even Hedwig... even Dubby. - The wizard smiled at the thought of the elf. - You all died because of me, I can't deny it anymore, I did because I needed to be strong but not anymore. What should I do now Sirius?.- He lost himself within his own words. - I don't know what to do, where to start, I don't even know if I want to start all over again, alone.

And there was silence again, full of silence and suddenly Harry couldn't feel but desesparation.

- I hate this place, I never thought there would be a place worst than Privet Drive, this is it. Now I know how you felt that time. I really hate this house. I know you hated it even more, I'd be happy to please you. - And a weak smile appeared in Harry's face. - Then when you're back we can go somewhere else, to the country or something, when you're back you will be proud of me.

- I hate this place. - He stood up. - I really do

You left me here alone

I'm lonely now

Tell me how you feel

Did you leave me for real?

His eyes were blanked, and suddenly he left the room, made his way to the handrail in front of Walburga's portrait.

- Confringo!. - He said with furecy, his wand pointing to the handrail, not listening to Walburga and her nonsenses. Soon, the handrail was shattered. Harry took the largest piece of wood, it was really hard to lift it which was a good thing since he was using it to break that damned Walburga's portrait. He couldn't hear anything, not Kreacher, not the last words of the portrait. When he was done with it, he ran to the rest of the house, breaking everything on his way, leaving nothing.

- Fiendfyre!

There was no number 12 of Grimmauld Place by the time whe was finished.

Get out. - There was a voice in his head, he knew it very well, the voice of his mother. Get out. The voice begged. He didn't listen.

Crying tears of pain

Dying in the end

Sirius is definitely going to be very happy, he thought, standing there, in the middle of the house, in the middle of the fire.

--

Whoa! The shortest thing I've ever done!

Cheers! Yeah, I know, my Harry is a big emo, I'm sorry! I hate it too and I admire how brave he was during the last two books, but I just feel sad about his whole life, during the whole history he suffered like anyone else did.

The song is Crimson Tale by Penumbra :3