Prologue: No Handlebars
'I can keep rhythm with no metronome, no metronome, no metronome…and I can see your face on the telephone, on the telephone… Look at me, look at me. Just called to say that it's good to be – alive in such a small world, I'm all curled up with a book to read…'
The gentle, yet explosive music blasted through the ground, vibrating through his feet, bleeding through his pores. He felt, more than heard the rhythmic thuds of his footfall across the wooden floor of the dilapidated manor.
The room was old, and covered in dust; no one had been up here in years, no one but him. He'd never really cared for the state of the room as it was. He only needed the one thing, the 'Speculum'.He'd come at midnight, every night, and the other would just stand there, looking back at him.
He walked forward, his other mimicking. The rooms were identical, they were identical, they moved in perfect synchronisation… but he had hazel eyes…
He tilted his head to the right, and the faulty doppelganger did the same. He smirked, the other didn't. He deviated from usual fashion and placed his hand on the glass… he could see every contour, every little mark on his hand as it pushed into the reflective window.
His smirk turned into a grin, his emerald eyes twinkling merrily as the other mumbled something under his breath that fell deaf on his ears and stood back, walking from the room.
He was waiting, for that sign, the one that'd change his life forever. It'd hit him, one day. And that would be the day that he could indulge in the others wishes, his dreams, as fictional as they may seem.
There was a soft buzz in his back pocket. Without thinking about it, he turned the music down with a twist of his wrist. Pulling the phone from his pocket he flipped it open. "Hermione." His voice was indifferent, emotionless, but hers wasn't.
"Harry! H-Harry I…" she made a choking noise and stopped, there was a thud in the background. He could hear her breathing heavily, choking on thin air whilst she gasped for breath.
Harry frowned, dropping down to a crouch as he saw a little girl pop her head around the corner of the door in the mirror. He looked behind him, but no one was there. He forced a smile, waving at her, beckoning her forward.
Her electric blue eyes seemed to light up, apparently recognising him. She ran around the door, closer to him, the little tuft of hair that was her fringe pulled into a bobble at the top of her head was bobbing up and down as she skipped toward the mirror on the other side. She called someone's name, but it wasn't his - she could have only been three or four. She had red wellies on with white spots for Merlins sake.
She pressed both hands up against the mirror as the man had before her and smiled toothily, calling the same name out to him, waving. He waved back.
"Hermione?" he whispered into the speaker on the phone, his eyes on the little girl. "Alright? You sound a bit winded."
"Ye- yeah," she let out a small humourless laugh. "I'm just calling to… well I had only one chance to do this, and times running out so… You seen that 'sign' yet?"
He shook his head, realising seconds later that she couldn't see him. "No."
"Well I think I have. It hit me, so to speak, while I was on my way over to see you today."
"Oh?" The small girl pushed her little nose into the glass.
"Yes." She breathed. "I think you should go – now, don't think, just do it – I know you're there, all you have to do is –" she screamed so loudly that he gave a wince of surprise, and pain, dropping the phone.
The girl looked confused, her head tilted to the side. He ignored her, grabbing it back. "Hermione!"
She was breathing heavily again, her voice broke. "Harry, please, just go."
"What? No! It's supposed to be you and me, just the two of us. We'd be able to start over, Hermione, without this disgrace of a planet."
"I'll see you there."
"No, we'll go together, when the time is right –"
"The time is now, Harry!" she shouted. "There may no longer be a you there, but there is a me, and two me's equals disaster, you know that… deep down we always did… I can't go, and I won't need to by the time this conversation's up."
"What? Why – Hermione…" he trailed off, his brow furrowed. There was a long silence on the other side of the phone, during which Harry slowly reached out to touch his fingers to the little girls' right hand on the mirror.
The man from before came running in, panic stricken, and snatched her up from the ground, cradling her to his chest. He was reprimanding her for wandering off… Harrys jaw set, his hand clenching together as he dropped his arm.
"Harry… I'm not going to be alive to come with you… please." She pleaded, Harrys eyes connected with the other mans. "Please, once this conversation's over… there won't be anything left for you – I need you to go, and lead your life… like I said, I'll see you there…" she was crying.
He stood to his feet, one hand on the hilt of the sword sheathed at his right hip behind his back, the other clutching onto the phone tightly. "Where are you." He demanded, voice tight.
"I –" She let out a small cry of pain. There was a soft sob. "It doesn't matter anymore, just go."
"Hermione, please, I can find you – you know I can. One word and I'll be there in a second."
"Harry, I'm sorry, for everything…" her voice was barely a whisper. She sniffed. "I'm lucky to even have managed to hide long enough to make this call… they'll be there the moment I put the phone down… I don't have much time left, just… I –" She gave another short pause, taking in a deep, shaky breath. "I love you."
"I love you too." He blurted out, watching the expression on the mans face change. There was another blood curdling scream, and the line went dead. He stood completely still for just a moment, his mouth half open, frozen. He closed his eyes, snapping the phone shut at his ear.
His expression went hard, teeth clenching, glaring at the man on the other side of the mirror. Slowly lowering the phone from his ear, he threw it at the wall – it was no good to him now. Hermione's was the only number on it anyway…
There was a long list of people who'd died over the past seven years, and Hermione Granger was never supposed to be on it. They had been the only survivors out of all of them. Just two… out of hundreds. And they had a plan to get out of here, when everything was ready.
He'd lost everyone. His friends, his 'family'… Ginny. Not a single person in the Order remained, the Ministry of Magic, St. Mungos and Hogwarts stood in ruins, baron. Voldemort had well and truly won, and he'd admitted that feat months ago…
But he wasn't going to let Hermione's 'death' come to nothing.
He saluted the man in the mirror mockingly, still holding tightly to the child that wasn't his and turned swiftly on his heal. He began the count down.
10
He ran down the steps two at a time, completely skipping over the last five.
9
He grabbed a set of keys off of the windowsill outside his bedroom, where he'd left them.
8
More stairs – there was an explosion 2 floors down.
7
Glass shattered around him, people were shouting, running, numerous feet thundering toward him.
6
He unplugged the iPod on the dock playing the music, and pulled headphones out of his pocket, running through the halls.
5
He ducked, and ran through a shortcut through the library as a kaleidoscope of colours barrelled down the hall.
4
The music was playing quietly in his right ear as he slipped it into his corresponding pocket, listening hard for where they were stationed. They never did learn the art of sneaking.
3
He braced his left arm on the banister on the balcony above the atrium, leaping over and onto the broken and battered open floorboards below.
2
He turned, drawing the sword from behind him, an extension of his arm as he swiftly turned, skewering a nearby Death Eater into the wall. He grunted, pulling back and turning, jumping out of the closest window to the ground two stories down, more of Voldemorts men bursting in through every entrance to the atrium.
1
He sheathed the sword, pulling out the keys while he ran to the parked motorbike ahead, knocking back the kickstand, and speeding off with a swerve of the back wheel as they shot numerous spells after him.
'Look at me, look at me. Driving and I won't stop. And it feels so good to be alive and on top. My reach is global. My tower is secure. My cause is noble. My power is pure…'
"Ten seconds…" he mumbled, shaking his head as he shifted up a gear, speeding up.
He had to know if she was still alive. For all he knew, she was still being held captive, being tortured, and he couldn't let her suffer. She'd lost as much as he, her husband - Ron, her parents, and of course they collectively lost their friends, allies, everyone they have ever known was gone. Things like that can do horrible things to a person.
The pain of it was what made Remus Lupin step out into open fire after he lost his wife, and unborn child due to a violent miscarriage brought on by an ungodly amount of Cruciatus Curses. She was late on in the pregnancy, and she'd gone into labour, the baby dead the moment the curse had been cast. In the end she bled to death, in agony.
Harry was only glad he hadn't been the one to find her as she was loosing consciousness – that had been Ginny. He'd held her the entire night as she silently sobbed. By that point she had already lost both her parents, Percy, Bill, Charlie, and the Twins. She and Ron were the only ones left.
He sped down the dirt track, dust shooting up in his wake, the roar of the engine and the sound of the music blasting in his ears the only things he could hear. But it wasn't enough to block out the unwelcome thoughts in his head.
He'd long since desensitised to the people around him. He had stopped showing how much it hurt, how much it killed him every time someone else was found dead. But it didn't mean he didn't care, despite what some had once thought.
He'd find Hermione and then he would leave; he'd go to their 'Plan B'. They would go to their 'Plan B', together.
Because she couldn't be dead.
Something dark was blocking the road ahead, standing in a silhouette in front of the large once green mountains and rolling hills either side of the road and up ahead.
'Because I can guide a missile by a satellite, by a satellite, by a satellite. And I can hit a target through a telescope, through a telescope, through a telescope…'
A tall man stood completely stationary against the eerie wind constantly blowing hard through the countryside, his billowing black robes curling around him, making him slightly more difficult to make out, even under the burning sun, and the red sky.
Harry gripped the handlebars tight, revving the engine and pushing it to the limit.
This was it.
'And I can end the planet in a holocaust. In a holocaust, in a holocaust, in a holocaust, in a holocaust. In a holocaust….!'
The back wheel of his motorbike skidded across the dirt plane at the rapid climb of speed. He pushed it further and further, galloping closer and closer until he was barely meters away when the bastard laughed and held a hand up ahead of him.
The front wheel burst off an invisible shield millimetres from the Dark Lords skin and he smashed through it, up in the air, arching through the air behind him. His bike hit the ground and slid violently across the road nearby before he smashed into the floor, the heated earth burning his bruised and battered skin.
He didn't move, barely breathing, his heart thudding in his chest as adrenaline coursed through his veins.
Voldemort bent over him, a revolting sneer winding across his face. "She screamed your name as I killed her." He hissed barely audible, but Harry caught it.
He flung one arm behind him from where he lay on his stomach, making for his sword, but it wasn't there, and opening his eyes to scan the ground ahead of him he found it lying on the soil off road.
There was a high pitched laugh, and a crack, and Harry knew it was too late.
Breathing heavily, he rolled onto his back, looking up to the vermillion sky. He was covered in cuts, dirt, and burns, which were a bad enough combination as it was, but he was pretty certain he'd broken a couple of ribs.
He laughed despite himself. He should be dead.
Why wasn't he dead?
A small part of his mind had hoped he would have. But this wasn't the time for thoughts like that. It was time to go. There was nothing left for him here…
'And I can ride my bike with no handlebars, no handlebars, no handlebars… and I can ride my bike with no handlebars, no handlebars, no handlebars…'
A/N: This IS a Harry/Ginny fic, Harry and Hermione love each other in a completely platonic way - just thought I should point that out since two people were confused on that detail =] The lyrics are weird, and I may go back and take them out later, but obviously you can ignore them if you really hate them =]
Let me know what you think!
Jessica