Title: Wild Geese
Author: I'm Nobody, Who are You?
Summary: Harry is traumatized by the end of the war, the wizarding world's attitude of blame towards him, and his guilt about the deaths of many wizards. Can a vacation without magic and a subdued Draco Malfoy help him heal? HPDM, AU after HPB
Disclaimer: Don't own them, and the poem Wild Geese, the inspiration for this story, is also not mine!
Wild Geese
by Mary Oliver
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
HPDMHPDM
Chapter 1: You do not have to be good
Harry jerked awake, sitting up suddenly. Where was… "Ron! Is he ok? I saw Bellatrix start shooting a nasty set of spells his way, but I couldn't get to him; Lucius Malfoy was blocking my way, and then I had to go fight Voldemort, and…"
"Harry… there's nothing you can do. Ron…" Hermione blinked fiercely and cleared her throat. She took a deep, shuddering breath. "Ron got hit by a powerful round of the Cruciatus curse. He… he didn't make it." Hermione's voice was low, and tears were silently trickling down her cheeks. She was staring at a small gold band on her ring finger.
"And… there's more. Fred… Tonks…" Hermione was openly sobbing now. "I'm sorry Harry. I can't go through this again. Here." She thrust a sheet of paper at him, and ran out of the small room, slamming the door shut.
Harry stared at the folded sheet, numb. He slowly opened the paper, clenched his jaw and started to read.
HPDMHPDM
Lupin… Tonks…. Mr. Weasley… Fred… and George would probably waste away without his twin… the Patil twins… Lavender and Seamus… Ernie Macmillian… Pansy Parkinson, who had surprised all by fighting with Harry's side… Ron… and a hundred more adults and children whose names he didn't recognize…
"Half of my damn year is dead. Almost half the ----ing British wizarding population is dead" he whispered, "AND IT'S ALL MY FAULT!" At this Harry took the vase full of artificial flowers by his bed and hurled it at the wall with all his strength. He took savage pleasure in the resounding crash, and glanced around for something else to throw. Not seeing anything else in the small, bare, cell-like room, he wandlessly transfigured the shards and flowers into ugly china vases - exact copies of one Aunt Petunia kept on the mantelpiece. He dashed them against the wall, throwing each a little harder. Suddenly he heard someone running through the halls. He muttered a quick succession of profanities for forgetting to use a silencing charm, banished all the vases to under the bed, and cast a light sleeping charm on himself.
"Mr. Potter! I suggest you… are you really asleep?" the scowling, dirty-blond medi-witch asked suspiciously. She shook him none too gently and said "Now that you are awake I suggest you direct your energies to helping me with the other patients! There are not nearly enough healers, so all those who can WILL help us!" She scowled at him fiercely. He came with her meekly, his anger suppressed but not vanishing as he saw all those who had been injured. They shouldn't be here, injured. I shouldn't have let anyone come to the battle but me. Voldemort and me… that's the way it was supposed to be! But I let them come! I let them get hurt, I let them die! Harry excused himself from the medi-witch, asking to go to the bathroom. He walked slowly to the restroom, and, after making sure no one was inside, he soundproofed the bathroom. He screamed till he was hoarse, and then the tears came.
HPDMHPDM
"Harry. I'm ashamed of you! You killed Cedric, then me, then Dumbledore, and now all these innocent people!" Sirius frowned angrily at Harry, who was sitting on a garden bench at the Burrow.
Harry started to cry. "I'm so sorry Sirius! I didn't mean to! I tried to stop them from coming, but they wouldn't listen!"
"You've let me down. Why, you even let them kill Remus, one of my best friends." Suddenly Sirius stood up, and Harry could see that his nose was a little flatter, his fingers longer, his eyes blood red. A hiss left his mouth as the transformation completed. "You stupid child. You let all of them be killed. You would be better dead!" At this, Voldemort pointed his wand at Harry. Suddenly Death Eaters were there, jeering at Harry. "SShow your sssselves." Voldemort whispered.
They took off their hoods, and Harry saw people he would never think to see in Death Eater robes… Ron, Mr. Weasley, Fred, Tonks, Lupin, all jeering at him, yelling how he took their lives, how he deserved to die, how it was all his fault…
Voldemort spoke, a cold, victorious smile on his snake-like face. "Avada…"
Harry woke up screaming. He was still in the bathroom, white tile floor cutting into his back, but there were two other people there: a large, dark haired male healer and a concerned young man with light brown hair. Both were wearing dark blue robes, though of different shades.
"Are you all right?" the Healer said gently, "I was told that you were in here, in a very deep sleep or trance, screaming about the war."
"I'm fine." Harry said gruffly to the man.
"No, he's not," the younger man spoke for the first time, "He was obviously having a nightmare of some sort. Talking in his sleep."
"All right then; you should be in your ward, Mr.…" Harry quickly showed the Healer his ID, "Mr. Potter!!!"
HPDMHPDM
Harry woke up slowly, surprised that he was not screaming from a nightmare. Then he remembered the large dose of dreamless sleep potion he had been given the night before. Yesterday's events pierced his consciousness and he suddenly felt like he was suffocating; he was drowning a whirlpool of the events that had transpired, he was being sucked in, panicking, thrashing...
Harry gasped and lost consciousness.
HPDMHPDM
(AN: Umm… Harry's dream was just that, a dream, so in many ways it doesn't make sense. Also, Harry may seem OOC, but he's dealing with his grief, and the guilt he feels.)
So there you have the first chapter! Please review, even if you hate it! I should be updating once a week at the very least. I'm going to update even if I don't get reviews, but they really do help me work, especially constructive criticism.
-Nobody