A/N: I hated this idea when it came in my head, but I honestly can't get rid of it… so I have to write it… It is VERY AU…..
Disclaimer: 'tis not mine…. The characters are all JK Rowling's
Everything
Harry stared down at the smooth marble, hands shoved in his pockets. He'd already placed the customary flowers in front of it, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything. It still didn't seem real, after all this time. They weren't supposed to be dead.
Ron and Hermione stopped by now and then, seeing how he was, but he mostly ignored all contact, preferring to stay shut up in the huge house meant for many more than just him. He tortured himself day after day with the same thought:
It's all your fault.
And it was. It was his fault they were dead. He should have known better than to think the war was over. Countless Death Eaters had escaped that night. Countless supporters wanted revenge for what he'd stolen from them. He shouldn't have let his guard down…
Harry actually found himself whistling as he started out the doors of the Ministry. Being an Auror, he didn't have much to whistle about, seeing as he faced criminals and murder every day, but today he couldn't help but be in a good mood. It was his five year wedding anniversary.
"Hey, you treat my sister nice tonight!" Ron said, clapping him on the shoulder.
Harry held back a grin and a not-so-appropriate remark, settling for, "Of course."
Once outside the building, Harry and Ron both apparated to their separate homes with parting well wishes, even though they would see each other again soon enough.
Harry smiled to himself as he apparated a few blocks from his house, wanting to walk a bit in the fresh night air. He hummed to himself as he thought about the night he had planned. Ginny would love it. Not to mention that Ron and Hermione were coming by to get James and Albus for the night. It would be a whole night of just the two of them.
As he neared the house, however, his good mood started to ebb away, pushed aside by a feeling in his gut that something wasn't right…
How stupid he'd been, not to see it. He should have sensed it sooner. He was supposed to be this powerful wizard, but he couldn't even prevent his own world from shattering.
As he rounded the corner, he saw it, and his heart fell to his feet in an instant. It was over his house. The house that held his family. The mark that hadn't been seen in years. Not since Voldemort…
Harry was full-out running by now. He had to get there; he had to save them. A voice in the back of his mind told him it was already too late, but he couldn't believe it.
He tore through the front gate and stopped short when he saw the front door, ripped from its hinges. He couldn't breathe. This wasn't happening.
All training forgotten, Harry drew his wand and started shouting at the top of his lungs for his wife, his children, anyone. Stumbling through the door, his breath caught for the second time as he took in the sight of a body slumped against the wall. Ginny. He rushed over, shaking her with all the force he had, but she would not wake. Her brown, lifeless eyes stared right through him. He felt the tears on his cheeks, not aware of how they had gotten there. With a last glance at his wife, he turned away to search for his sons.
When he found them, he almost wished he'd run straight out the front door.
He knew what had happened. They'd come while the boys were playing up in their room. Ginny was in the kitchen, unaware of the men stalking the house. They ambushed her before she realized what was happening. They weren't about to make the same mistake as Voldemort. No child would survive because of a mother's love this time. This wasn't about killing the children, it was about hurting Harry. They'd timed it perfectly. It was a coward's plan, but an effective one. After all, they succeeded.
When Ron and Hermione came to get the boys that night, Harry was sitting beside his family, his face tear streaked. Hermione had taken one look at the scene and run back outside to vomit. Ron had stood motionless, disbelieving.
Some of the other Aurors were convinced Harry had done it. They reckoned he'd finally snapped after all these years. Tried to get him committed. Instead, he resigned from the Ministry, secluded himself in the house. He refused to talk to anyone. Ron left the Ministry too, saying that anyone who thought Harry could have killed his entire family was a git, and a stupid one at that.
The greatest injustice was that nobody would ever know who had taken it upon themselves to rob Harry of his family; Harry had exhausted himself trying ever since it had happened. All that was left behind was a note which Harry had found, reading:
You took everything from me, and now I have taken everything from you.
Harry felt the familiar tears track down his cheeks as the memory swallowed him whole. He gripped the note in his hand tightly. It was worn and tattered, but Harry kept it, a reminder of what he'd caused, of what he'd lost.
Giving the graves one final glance, he turned away, whispering, "I love you."
A/N: I have no idea how long ago I wrote this… I just found it when I was checking out all my writing… so I'll just post it! Please Review!