A/N:I apologize to those who might b upset by my 9/11 reference ( I was not there, i dont know what happened-all that i have written about it is not factual)
Plus heads up for not so suicide suicide attempt.
Goodbye, Draco
-Hunter
Chapter 3: Saving
Harry wakes up like he always wakes up. His alarm goes off ten times, before he actually opens his eyes and uses his outstretched hand to stop it- he uses a Muggle alarm, instead of a magical one- because he'd promised himself that he wouldn't buy another one after he threw Ron's away.
He rubs his hands across his face, but stops himself. Once he pulls off the blankets, he walks to the bathroom in his bedroom and stares at himself in the mirror- he observes the beard that he's carefully keeping (neat) and the short haircut that finally tamed his hair. Harry's revised look, the look he adopted when he was accepted to the Force make him look like anyone but Harry Potter- his eyes are blue too- contacts. He looks at himself for a moment more, and then he closes his eyes and does his breathing exercises.
His name might be Harry Potter, but here in this city-his city, he's just Harry.
He casts a Tempus- because come, on, he might be late and the clock is half way across the room. Then he realizes that he'll be late for work if he isn't done in ten minutes. He showers quickly, a quick charm to iron his blue Officer's uniform and Harry moves swiftly in the room in his towel and goes through his drawers looking for boxers. He grabs the first one he sees- the green one with bright stars. They reminded him of Duke and that's why he bought them, six months ago. He smiles at the thought of Duke.
He ignores or tries to ignore the elegant box lodged carefully on the other side of his drawer- the black and silver design daring him to open it so that Harry can choke in the contents of the box.
Not today.
He will not face these demons today.
He closes the drawer quickly or quick enough for his thoughts to be carried elsewhere. He has to get off work early today. He shrugs on his clothes and combs a hand through his hair and trims his beard- he will not look like a hobo, but he will not look like Harry Potter either. He grabs some slices of bread, his bag, badge, keys and checks that his wand is carefully concealed with a spell under his pillow.
He takes one look around his house and goes out the door.
:.
Harry is going to be late.
So much so that he decides to fuck it all and apparate into the police station's bathroom. After feeling his insides shift inside him for less than a second, Harry finds himself in the porcelain white bathroom- standing near the last stall. He rights himself in the mirror, and does his breathing exercises. He stares at himself some more, and tries to chase away the wandering thoughts and doesn't run a hand over his face this time-
He hates bathrooms, so he leaves.
He finds Donna, the cleaning lady about to go into the bathroom he came from.
"Harry," she says warmly. She stops mopping and looks at him with warm eyes, "How are you sweetheart?"
"Great," Harry says-smiling- he's learnt how to do that now, "After that amazing pie you gave me yesterday, I don't think anyone could feel any better."
She smiles so wide, it makes Harry almost feel something.
Laughing, she says, "Well, I'll make more for you if that's the case, you're such a darling, Harry, when are you giving me grandbabies?"
Harry reddens as Donna laughs at his reaction, "Er-, um…well-"
"I'm kidding, Harry, now go, I'm keeping you from your work," she smiles- Harry sees Mrs. Weasley.
Harry painfully arranges in face muscles in a hopefully pleasant goodbye to Donna.
He moves through the group of officers just coming in, greeting some of the ones he knows- but he's not stopping to talk to them. He finally gets into an elevator and finds it relatively empty.
One of the perks of getting to work early is that you don't have to engage yourself in painful elevator conversations with your nosy workmates.
When he reaches his floor (which he thinks looks quite abandoned l) he goes into his office, the one he shares with Miles and collapses into his seat. He can feel the pounding of his heart so he tries to calm himself down and does his breathing exercises again.
One.
Two.
Three.
One.
Two.
Three.
:.
"What I'm saying Harry is that these days the people don't really trust us," Miles says as he eats a massive burger. Harry is vaguely reminded of Ron, "I mean, nine eleven, hit everyone bad, but we are-we're supposed to be the people they look up to and the people they believe will protect them," Miles stops as he cards a hand through his slightly longer than Harry's black hair- He was more muscle and had a more mature face than Harry when Harry shaved.
They're in the car- eating their lunch around the corner of McDonald's. Harry's eating the same greasy burger Miles is eating. He's no Ron, he's just really hungry today.
"I think people are just trying to come to terms with the fact that this happened and we couldn't- or we tried to do something about it, but we couldn't really. You know that I was in Romania and Antarctica the time before and when it happened, and when I heard, it was maybe three months later-and remember how you wanted to chop my head off for not knowing until I came back, you said it was inconsiderate of me to not know even though it wasn't my fau-
"Because, Harry, it was really stupid! Are you telling me that they had no newspapers, no radio, no TV, absolutely no nothing broadcasting the whole thing?"
"I had already left for Antarctica by that time- I only spent a week in Romania , but I spent three months in Antarctica- you keep forgetting that," he shoots back, exasperated.
"And why the fuck were you in Romania and fucking Antarctica anyway?" Miles asks with that incredulous expression on his face, "No, a better question is, what the fuck were you doing in Antarctica? "
"That's a story for another day -you're changing the subject here," Harry puts up a hand to stop Miles from interrupting, "Let me just get to my point, okay?" Miles shrugs and rolls his eyes, Harry continues, "So Miles, I was in Antarctica and you were here, you were even working when it happened, you watched the news, you called your parents who were in Boston, even though they weren't anywhere close and you called your sister too who's always halfway around the world- and that one scared you the most, because sometimes, you don't know where she is, so you called her and you found out that she was actually fast asleep in whichever country she had taken an interest in at that time. You had your family and friends safe, and I know you tried to contact me, Davies told me," Miles scoffs, "Anyway what I mean to say is that it relieved you that your family and friends were safe, but the fact that there were people who died or were injured that day with families and friends of their own made you feel like you were betraying your honor, by being honest with yourself –by being relieved- and so you were in anguish that you hadn't and couldn't do anything."
Harry stops to take a breath, "Yes, people are still afraid, heck, I was afraid when I heard at the airport- I spent the entire trip feeling numb and upset because I wasn't there and I hadn't done anything."
"What, Harry, you think-don't tell me you thought you could have stopped a whole bunch of terrorists singlehandedly, if not all the terrorists in the world?" Miles asks sarcastically.
It's not like I haven't done something that before.
Harry almost smiles, but ignores Miles' statement to continue instead, "People are still afraid, yes, but if we have people like you, who would have flown there if the airlines hadn't been shut down and people like me, who don't have anything to lose, and would rather see a happy world without me than a sad one with me in it, then I think we'll be okay. We can't let this terror engulf us, because that's exactly what terrorists want- they want to instill terror in our hearts so we turn against each other, and if we let that happen- then what's the point of a world like this? We have to rise up from the ashes, even if we're scorched black- we have to find the light that'll shine in people's hearts and that's up to us now," Harry stops to sigh, but his words are confident as he looks Miles in the eye, "It's up to us to make them believe in the world again, in us - believe that we swore to protect and serve them. They have to believe we're their protectors and that we'll stop at nothing to save the world, one stray kitten to one nuclear bomb at a time."
Harry is surprised at his words, it actually sounded like something Dumbledore, Hermione, Sirius or Remus could have said- or maybe a mixture of all of them.
At least it doesn't hurt so much to think of Sirius anymore.
He looks at Miles and sees Mile's face full of emotion.
"You're not going to cry on me, are you?" Harry asks jokingly after a moment.
"You're the nansy pansy, remember?" Miles says and moves to look out the car window as a stray tear escapes his left eye.
Harry pretends not to see it.
After what seems like a million years, Miles says, "You have quite the hero complex, Harry Potter."
Harry smiles and almost remembers someone.
:.
"Potter, Crowley, sorry to interrupt your lunch, but we have a situation on Hana Street, Jumper on the EAD Hotel roof, looks highly suicidal, how far are you two?"
They're still in the car- about to leave. Harry and Miles share a look before Harry says, "Not too far, about a couple blocks away."
"Not another jumper," Miles groans as he starts the car. Harry packs his burger away carefully and does his breathing exercises quietly.
"It's what you signed up for, fellas, Potter I want you to talk to him, since you have a magical mouth or that's what they say."
Miles laughs at the innuendo- Harry shrugs it off and looks at Miles, not appreciating his partner's insensitivity. At this point, Harry just wants to go home so he won't be late for his appointment.
I hope this guy can be easily persuaded.
"Alright, boys, good luck."
:.
People are gathering around the bottom of the building when Harry and Miles pull up- Harry takes in the vast amount of people all coming together to witness what- a suicide? Or did they want to help?
"Someone's going to have to do crowd control- these guys look a little too enthusiastic," Miles says, looking over the crowds and up to the top of the building, he squints and after a second he snarls, "The fucker's swinging his legs over the ledge- he's already gone that far-"
"What did we say about your insensitivity, Miles," Harry comments as he surveys the crowds.
Something doesn't feel right.
"I think we should call in some back up, to control the crowds."
"I'll go make a quick one to Davies and Parker, they should be near here, plus Travis and Reitman." Miles says as he goes back into the car- his voice is almost unheard over the heightened tension and loudness of the crowds near Harry.
In less than a minute, however, he hears sirens and sees his guys, Davies, Parker, and the other two come around the corner. Davies is the oldest and most experienced cop the city has probably seen, and he trained Harry himself when Harry was a rookie.
"Harry," he says as he nears Harry- His short grey hair moves in the wind and Harry wishes he brought his coat. His face has a number of lines, but he's still young, at least fifty and physically bigger than Harry-though half the task force is actually bigger than Harry, "So we've got a jumper and a hyped up crowd," Davies says as he looks over the crowd and up to the top of the building- the person up there was still swinging their legs.
"Looks like it's a kid," Parker comments next to Davies. Parker is Davie's protégé- he is more Steve Davies than anyone else here. Parker has blond hair and nerdy look about him- he is the youngest and the tallest guy in the task force.
"I hate it when it's a kid," Miles says behind him.
"It's not as if you're going to be doing much but watch me try to get him to move away from the ledge."
"Come on, gentlemen, get a room later, we have a kid to save-ya'll go up right now and the rest of us will control the crowds."
Just as soon as Davies says that, a loud "Why don't you jump already?" can be heard from the crowd- the men look at each other before they disperse. Miles and Harry are already in the hotel and going in the elevator to the closest floor to the top. They get out at the fiftieth floor and have to walk up the stairs five floors before they reach the roof door- a black and almost tattered thing, really- the kid somehow broke in by abusing the door over a period of time or with some tremendous force.
Harry's magic said otherwise.
"I really hate these ones," Miles says quietly before Harry opens the door gently and is met by the brightness of the sun from the roof top. Harry and Miles walk cautiously for three large steps before the person- boy, stops swinging his legs over the ledge.
Harry reacts, "Hey, there,"
The boy -in a hoodie-doesn't turn his head.
"Hey, pal, mind helping me out here? Could I talk to you?"
Silence.
The wind starts to pick up and Harry really wishes he brought his coat.
"Could you face me? I really don't think you should do this-jumping, I mean what will your family think?" Harry either says something right or wrong because the boy looks at him.
And Harry feels something.
Miles grows weary and antsy behind him so he moves three more steps closer; he's close enough to see that this kid is probably sixteen or seventeen.
Someone's kid- at sixteen or seventeen, on the verge of committing suicide.
He thinks of Duke.
"What's your name?"
The boy doesn't answer.
"You know it's rude to be facing somewhere else when someone is talking to you," Mile snaps.
Harry looks at Miles, shocked.
"Don't say anything," Harry warns him.
When Harry turns back to the boy, he finds him with his legs no longer over the ledge. Harry almost sighs in relief- he turns to give Miles' smug face a rare thankful expression. Harry takes this opportunity to move closer to the boy, "My name is Harry- I'm a police officer," the boy watches Harry with no expression in his eyes, "But I'm also someone you could talk to, if or when you're feeling suicidal."
Harry is only two steps away from him now, but he doesn't want to push his luck. The wind blows at the boy's hoodie, the hood is blown back and the boy's long red hair spills out-
"Would you let me help you?" Harry asks in earnest.
Harry gives him his hand.
And the boy smiles.
The world stops- the wind blows fiercely at Harry's face.
The boy moves one leg over the ledge and then he smiles again.
He stands on the ledge with the other leg and mouths something at Harry.
Harry tries to move, to grab ahold of him to stop him, but the boy steps off the ledge effortlessly and almost with grace- his red hair flies over his face.
He falls.
And never stops smiling.
Everything shifts- Miles is screaming and Harry runs to the ledge and looks over, maybe he can spell him back up, oh, why the fuck didn't Harry do that the first time-
But Harry sees no boy, and he sees no body.
He was gone.
