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The Last Lesson

Summary: Harry thinks about his life. He has learnt his lessons, and he reflects about the most important and elusive one, the one he learnt as a six-year-old adult. Slytherin!Harry, Gray!Harry

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any part of the Potterverse.I make no money from writing fanfiction


I rest here, all alone, just lazing around and enjoying the pleasantly warm morning.

At least that's what it looks like, from the outside. A raven-haired young man, lying on the grass under the shadow of this beautiful old tree, staring at the most delightful scenery. That is, if you don't look too carefully, for if you do then you'll surely notice that my gaze's vacant, my face void of any expression. I'm miles away from here, delving into memory lane.

But I'm rambling. You never asked what I was doing, did you?

I suppose you've been looking for me.

Who doesn't, nowadays?

I am, after all, the Chosen One, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Man-Who-Defeated, He-Who-Conquered.

Trust the wizarding press to come up with such stupid hyphenated names.

I am, in the end, The-Boy-Who-Shall-Inspire-Gawking.

Really.

I am, and have always been, subjected to excessive and careful scrutiny, and much obvious staring.

I have to wonder how they managed to miss it. How you all managed to miss it. It was so evident, at least at first, before I became the perfect actor, and perfected it.

You don't know what I'm talking about?

My mask, of course. The Saviour's mask. This innocent, honest and caring mask I wear for this world's eyes.

You didn't really think such a dimwitted naive little Gryffindor could have defeated Voldemort, once, and twice, and over and over again, and survive it all?

You did. How amusing.

No. I was meant to be a Slytherin, remember?

Most of you don't. How I managed to convince you about the traits Voldemort left in me being the only reason the hat wanted to put me in the snake's pit, I'll never know.

You just swallowed it up, didn't you? Didn't want to think of me as anything else. Too afraid, I guess.

A most stupid error in the path towards survival.

But I learned early in life my lessons, those which most of you never did.

I learned not to trust humans, for they are never truthful, and their words are never clear or firm, written in stone, but changing and twisting like the wind, misleading, and as easily gone.

I learned not to expect anything, for wanting only leads to pain. If you wish for nothing, nothing can be taken from you.

I learned I am the only one who'll ever be by my side, unconditionally, and the only one who'll care, whose opinion and survival matters. Because I am the only one I can trust, the only one that will never betray me.

I learned not to be chivalrous, for I make myself a great disservice when I don't try to my fullest and further, even if that means cheating, or playing behind the scenes.

I learned humans are not social animals, but egocentric ones, ad nauseam. People think nothing of the world and the innocents sacrificed. They think of themselves and how to survive. Can we expect anything less? I don't, I never have.

I learned I have, and am, myself, nothing more and nothing else.

And I learned most people don't want to know. Nothing of this. So they trick themselves with masks and lies to hide the truth they find revolting, or painful.

They see the world as it "should" be, a beautiful white-and-black community.

They don't understand that the only way to see it is as it is, that it is the only real way.

And so they forget, and act, and expect you to do the same. For they care not to see the injury, if it can be hidden by clothes. For they care not for the pain if it can be hidden by false smiles.

I had trouble understanding the last, most important rule, at first. I couldn't grasp it within my mind, for it refused to believe. That is the treacherous nature of the last lesson, for it can not be understood, nor contemplated, without it taking effect, which effectively prevents it from being understood, from being considered as possible.

But, one day, everything clicked in place, and my set of rules became complete, never to be changed or expanded again. I remember that moment as clearly as if it had happened just mere hours ago. It all took place in the autumn after my sixth birthday.

It was late at night, and I knew I should be heading back home. I could tell because the stars were shining brightly in the dark, cloudy sky above me. Despite knowing this, I could not even think about standing, let alone walking all the way to privet drive, number 4. Dudley and his gang had been playing Harry-Hunting that afternoon, and things had gotten a little bit out of hand. Thankfully, I could no longer feel most of my pains, as the freezing cold of the crisp autumn night had forced it's numbing chill into my very bones.

I laid on the floor, broken and hurting, for what had to be hours.

I knew I had to look horrible. I was pretty sure I had a swollen ankle, from the long run, when I had fallen to the ground in a bad position, but couldn't stop running and so putting more strain on it, till it was twice it's normal size and an angry purple; at least three broken ribs, courtesy of my cousin's kicks; and there was plenty of blood on my face, as I had been cut by my now broken glasses, which laid useless on the floor, next to me.

Not a pretty picture, by far.

So, when the young woman passed by the park where I laid, and caught a glimpse of my limp form on the floor, I was startled by her quick shudder and shaky shrug as she walked past me, never looking back, dismissing me.

She had seen me, that I knew. But she had chosen not to. She had swiftly talked herself into believing I had been naught but a tendril of her over-excited imagination.

And so she left me alone, cold and not quite dying, but almost wishing to.

I stayed at the park until dawn, when I finally gathered enough energy to crawl back to my uncle's house.

It wasn't the last time I had to sleep off my aches in that particular park, but I cannot say any of the others were half as important to my life, to who I am, as that one.

I wonder if that woman had any idea of the impact she would have on my adult life. And I say adult, because I was never a child, but after the last revelation, I was more than an adult. I felt truly ancient, and I have been told more than once that my eyes look out of place in my face, as they hold wisdom, and age and experience past their years, the kind that can only be obtained through old age.

I lost all innocence then, all pretense.

And then I built myself anew, with masks upon masks to keep me safe, and to keep the world from finding out. For humans fear the unknown, and have been known to destroy what they can't understand or control; and they have never wanted to know, to understand, always hiding from this particular truth.

And so I live, and I prevail. I keep my masks, carefully and lovingly pressed against my chest. And I never let, will never let you know.

For my ultimate goal is survival.

And it would prove most dangerous to reveal myself.

Now...

Shall I whisper this? So this memory shall never haunt your dreams, just barely out of reach?

Very well, then.

Obliviate.


I stand up, and smile to you. A wide, open smile.

Were you looking for me?

Me? I was just enjoying this perfect morning. The sun's shining, birds are singing, and the trees are green and the grass inviting.

Of course. Yes, I'll be happy to help you. Honestly, these evil sneaky Slytherins... Will they ever learn?

R&R?