Forgive Me
A/N – This is my first Harry Potter fanfic... It's inspired by Linkin Park's single, Leave Out All the Rest. Hope you enjoy it... please review! : )
Summary- This was before the final battle. Harry, Ron and Hermione were still at Shell Cottage. What was going to happen to them? How could they survive this?
Disclaimer- I do not own Harry Potter or any Linkin Park songs....
Dusk was creeping in, bleeding its redness across the cloudless sky. Harry was still kneeling by the tiny grave. He had just finished carving words on the small, smooth stone resting above Dobby's head. 'Here Lies Dobby, A Free Elf' it read. Harry wondered if Dobby could ever feel all the grief around him. He wondered if Dobby could sense his guilt and shame over his death.
Forgive me, Dobby.
That was all he managed to say, yet it seemed so inadequate, so hollow. Harry thought about all the people who had died for him, died because of him. James, Lily, Cedric, Sirius, Ted Tonks. Dobby. Their faces swam before his eyes.
Forgive me. Once again, he whispered, his cut lips trembling, his vision burning. Forgive me... somewhere behind him, beyond the walls of Shell Cottage, he heard the comforting voices of his best friends Ron and Hermione. From what he heard, they were arguing.
"You're hurt, Hermione. Just rest, okay?"
"I'm fine, Ron. Stop bossing me around."
"I'm not bossing you around! I just want you to rest. Right, Bill?"
"Yeah. He's right Hermione. You need a rest. You too, Ron."
"M-Me? But I'm fine!"
"No. both of you, off to bed. Now."
Harry heard Ron muttering about being treated like a kid. Hermione said something back, and they went on arguing until their voices moved farther into the house and faded altogether. Harry smiled. He couldn't stand their bickering, yet he felt he couldn't possibly live without them. "They make such a perfect pair, don't you think, Dobby?" he asked. The headstone merely stared silently back.
Harry remembered the time- the horrible, horrible time – when Ron left him and Hermione in the forest where they'd spent the night. He flinched slightly at the mere thought of it. How wretched he felt to see Ron's flaming red hair melt away into the darkness. How dead he felt inside when he watched Hermione chasing after him, rain and tears streaming down her face. No, he could not bear to think of losing Ron, or Hermione, again. He could not...
But with this death sentence Voldermort had placed on their heads, would either of them survive? Would any of them live? His stomach clenched with fear and dread. His chapped hand gently stroke the freshly turned earth that was Dobby's grave. How many more would die for him?
More, the answer strayed into his unwilling mind, brutal and honest. More would die for him. More would lay their lives down, forming a sickly, red carpet for him, Harry, the Chosen One, to walk on, in order to annihilate and destroy the Dark Lord once and for all.
No. he could not, would not, let anyone sacrifice for him again. No one deserved to die for him. He was a tainted, marked man, carrying an ugly disease that was slowly contaminating everyone around him. Forgive me... he whimpered, his hands clasped together, shaking with grief.
Harry did not know how long he knelt there, digging his knees into the earth. Darkness fell and enveloped him. It would only be a matter of time before someone was sent out to look for him. Finally, with a sense of heaviness and determination, Harry climbed shakily to his feet. His whole body felt numb. He threw one final glance at Dobby's grave. His decision was absolute.
"Harry? Harry! Dinner's ready!" Hermione's voice rang through the stillness of the night. Harry turned to see her standing by the door, still shrouded in Fleur's bathrobe, her face a sea of worry.
Harry forced a smile. "Yeah, coming. Feeling a little hungry tonight."
Midnight. Harry glanced at Ron, who was snoring on the sofa. He then quietly scratched a few words on a piece of parchment.
When my time comes, forget the wrongs that I've done
Help me leave behind some reasons to be missed
Don't resent me, and when you're feeling empty
Keep me in your memories, leave out all the rest
Just leave out all the rest.
Say goodbye to Ginny for me.
HP.
Harry reread his last sentence before the signature. He closed his eyes, remembering the flowery scent and the long, soft, fiery red hair. Then, he neatly placed the note on his pillow, and picked up his rucksack. He would leave Shell Cottage tonight, accompanied only by his shadow.
"Goodbye. Forgive me," he spoke softly to the still air. He then exited the room, shutting the door silently.