Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own ideas. I own no characters of this franchise nor am I a famous author.
-Courtesy of CeliaEquus. I hope she doesn't mind me using her example disclaimer. If I missed something here, please tell me! :)
Well, all I can say is please, please, please, Read and Review!
~Cat Seeker~
Chapter 1
Somewhere on the grounds of Hogwarts, Harry Potter was fighting a mob of Dementors. Or, at least, attempting to.
Hermione and Sirius had slipped into unconsciousness some time ago – but Harry didn't know how long. It felt like an eternity to him when it was probably just a couple of seconds. Every moment was long and drawn out as the black hooded cloaks gathered around him in a loose circle.
"Expecto Patronum!" he cried desperately, forcing more raw magic into the spell. His happy memories were running out, but he had to try. For Ron his best friend, for Hermione who was the sweetest girl he had ever met, for Sirius who would have, could have been the man he grew up with – his godfather, yet not his godfather.
The creatures he was frantically fending off seemed to laugh at him, grotesque grins stretching exposed gray skin. The lead Dementor – he thought hysterically – drew in another hoarse, rattling breath...
(so cold, so dark, whenisitgoingtostop?)
"Expecto Patronum!" he yelled again, but his voice was weaker.
Ron and Hermione were smiling at him – something that didn't happen often. This year, Ron had been fueling arguments about Hermione's new cat, Crookshanks, eating Percy's old rat, Scabbers. But the laughing faces were fading fast. He needed another memory...
(fishing for something brighter to delay, to repel the soul-suckers)
Draco Malfoy was holding Neville's rememberall up towards the sky. And Harry mounted his broomstick, feeling a jolt of euphoria that nothing else – even escaping the Dursleys – could ever bring him. I love flying more than anything else. I'm finally free, just an extension of the air...
The nearest Dementors recoiled out of shock more than anything else, but other, more daring ones, behind them glided up to take the retreaters' places. This is it, Harry thought, and he was frightened by the acceptance and understanding that accompanied the belief. Well, I've escaped from Voldemort more than once; it's only fitting that I meet my brain death at a dark creature. Though I suppose my passing away will be ironic. I wonder if Voldemort will be angry. From what I had derived from the times I met him, he always wanted my life for only him to take. I can just imagine the headlines – "Chosen One in Vegetable State! Confined in St. Mungo's Until Further Accommodations Determined!"
A Dementor – braver than others, it seemed – extended a rotting, claw-like hand to brush away Harry's globular, misty patronus. Harry sighed, breath exhaling in a puff of cloudy air. He would never know, or care, what his patronus would take the shape of, from now on. The Dementor lowered its hood...
"No, not Harry! Please not Harry! Not him... I'll do anything! Please!"
"Move aside, silly girl, move aside."
"No, please..."
"Avada Kedavra!"
"Harry, be safe, be strong."
"Yeh see, there was a wizard, Harry, who wen' dark."
"What's his name, Hagrid?"
"I'll write it, yeh have 'ny papeh? Fine, I'll say it. Lord Voldemort. Now, don't yeh ask meh to say it 'gain."
"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood!"
"Voldemort is my past, present, and future, Harry Potter."
"How is it that a boy of mediocre magical talent can defeat the great Lord Voldemort, heir of Salazar Slytherin?"
"You're a freak, Harry! A freak, you hear it? People don't just appear on the school roof... you're such a creep."
"He can speak to snakes, Susan, stay away from him. He's probably that heir who's been opening the Chamber of Secrets."
"POTTER! What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
"I don't know, sir."
"Tut, tut, Potter. Clearly, fame isn't everything."
Harry closed his eyes as the malformed, stitched-together mouth grew closer and closer. He could feel himself grow lighter, as though he was floating away. With the last vestiges of his strength, he drew Hermione's and Sirius's frozen bodies closer to his own. Tears blurred the inside of his cracked glasses and then, there was only oblivion.
