Chapter 3: Learn to Be Lonely
"You've always known, your heart was on its own,
So laugh in your loneliness, child of the wilderness,
Learn to be lonely,
Learn how to love a life that is lived alone."
--Learn to be Lonely, by Andrew Lloyd Webber (from Phantom of the Opera)
Going into the final battle I knew what was to happen. I knew that I would be killed. I knew that I would become a Grim Reaper. I had prepared. I had distanced myself from my friends (or tried to anyhow). I had stashed away money from my vault along with a few keepsakes that I couldn't bear to part with. (Yes, I realize I wasn't supposed to keep anything from my 'old life' but I don't really give a flying flip.) Anyway, my point is: I had prepared myself for putting my past life behind me...or thought I had.
The reality as it turns out is a bit different. Staring up at the ceiling in a rented room surrounded by nothing but silence I had not prepared for. It wasn't just that I was bored (though that was a part of it) it was that there was no one else there. No one to chat or play Exploding Snap with. No one to sit or grab a bite to eat with. No one to break the silence. Even at the Dursley's I could at least always be sure to hear them.
And as much as I hated being Harry Potter I find that I actually miss it. Now I'm but an anonymous face in the crowd. No one cares what I do or where I go. No one calls out a friendly greeting or even glances my way- -invisible without the use of an invisibility cloak.
No Ron. No Hermione. No Ginny or Luna or Neville. Not even a Dark Lord out to kill me. (I never thought that I would miss him but oddly enough, it actually feels as if a part of me is missing without him in my head.)
There are no classes to attend. No Quidditch to practice. No prophecies to worry about. No Horcruxes to find. No battle to prepare for. No evil plot to foil...
In short, I have nothing to do and no one to do it with. And all eternity before me.
-
"Guess what today is?" Manila asked in a sing-song voice, turning to me.
"I haven't the foggiest," I answer as I half-heartedly pick at my breakfast.
(Manila loves to inform us of holidays that I never knew existed and which very possibly don't. For all I knew it was 'Sing to Your Kneezle Day', though I haven't a kneezle so perhaps not.)
"Come on guess, it's something that's sure to cheer you up!"
Merlin, I hope they haven't declared a 'Harry Potter Day'. As if this day could be any more depressing.
"Today's your funeral, mate," Sullivan informed me with a grin.
There was something I hadn't thought to guess. And I stand corrected: this day can get more depressing after all. I looked at their two grinning faces in disbelief. How is the knowledge that my own funeral is today supposed to cheer me up? That settles it--they're both completely mental.
"Let's go," Manila said with a giggle. "It'll be fun!"
Fun? I stand by my decision: they're both nutters.
"He can't go to his own funeral!" Curtis said with disgust. "He'll end up doing something idiotic."
"Hey!"
"He can go," Bert interrupts as he slides into the booth. "You've got the day off kid...don't expect that to happen very often," he added.
Manila squeals in delight. I'm still debating on what my reaction to that news should be. Did I even really want to go?
I finally settle on: "Er...thanks...?"
"Not so fast, kid." Bert continues, pointing his finger at me, "there are conditions. Number one: no interacting with anyone. Number two: stay away from your friends...it'll be less tempting that way. Number three: don't draw attention to yourself. Number four: take someone with you so you don't do anything stupid. And remember you're Archibald now--Harry Potter is dead and gone, so be careful what you do and say. You go in there being Harry Potter and you'll just freak people out and they won't believe you anyway." He pauses and gives me an intense look. "There are dire consequences for revealing yourself to the living, kid, so don't even think about it."
"You can't seriously let him go!" Curtis interrupted in a scandalised tone.
"You went to yours didn't you?" Bert pointed out.
"Yes, well, I wasn't corporal at the time--he is!" Curtis then continued, "you know he'll end up doing something stupid."
"Hey!"
"Sullivan will go with him," Bert stated.
"Oh! Me too! Me too!" Manila pleaded, waving her hand.
"You too," Bert conceded with a sigh.
I knew he was thinking he was going to regret this. I was thinking I was going to regret this...
"Well, I for one am not going," Curtis sniffed snidely.
--
Walking into my own funeral was...surreal...and odd. Very very odd. There were many people that I knew there and a lot more that I didn't. But none of them recognized me. It was bizarre. Especially so because I had gotten accustomed to people staring at me and gawking at my scar. Now none of them give me a second glance...not even my friends. (I had half expected someone to take one look at me, scream, and announce that Harry Potter was back from the dead. At least it would have livened things up a bit--no pun intended.)
The funeral was being held at Hogwarts and all the school banners had been turned black. There were a lot of candles and flowers scattered about. There were also an awful lot of enlarged photos of me--many of which I suspected had been taken by the Creevey brothers. I winced as I spotted the aforementioned brothers clinging to each other and sobbing at the front of the room wearing...'Harry Potter Remembrance' t-shirts? Merlin, maybe this hadn't been such a great idea. Already my face was burning.
A noise drew my attention to a corner where I discovered a wailing Dobby the houseelf (also wearing a Rememberance t-shirt as well as what appeared to be every sock I had ever given him) settng up some sort of shrine. I quickly decided that I'd just see how my friends were and then leave. As I scanned the crowd I couldn't help overhearing a nearby conversation.
"Oh yes, Harry and I were very close. In fact we once dated."
Was that...Cho?
"He was heartbroken when I broke it off..."
I was not!
"...said that he understood. After all, because of his connection with You -Know-Who he was..."
"Hey, I never said that!" I muttered in indignation.
"Suuuure you didn't, mate," Sullivan said patting my shoulder in sympathy.
"I never said that!"
"Uh huh..." He cut off abruptly as he stared at something behind me. "Well, that's a bit garish isn't it?" he asked in horror.
I don't even want to know...
I never did find out what it was as just then something else caught my attention.
Ron and Hermione, neither one of them looking at all well, were standing off to the side...away from the crowd. I knew that Hermione had recently been released from St. Mungo's--against Healer's orders. She had been severely injured during the final battle and likely would never fully recover. The scar on her cheek and the way that she leaned heavily on Ron were the only outward signs of her injuries. But I had read the papers...
And Ron...Ron was missing a leg and now had one like Moody's. (Though Moody himself hadn't survived the battle...) They had managed to reattach the two fingers Ron had lost on his wand hand, but had been unable to locate a large chunk of his left ear. He now held on to Hermione as she cried, a stricken look on his face.
Neither one would ever be the same again and it was all my fault... It was a miracle that either one had survived the battle at all. Many others hadn't. If only I had been more insistent that they not come. If only I had gone there on my own, or had thought of another way to end it all. But I hadn't. And now they were the ones who would have to live with the consequences of my actions.
"I recommend a bracelet of butterbeer caps," a voice said, interrupting my thoughts.
"What?"
"For the Heeliwinks. I always find that a bracelet of butterbeer caps works wonders. ...but perhaps it's not Heeliwinks at all and it's actually Gravlelumps. For that a Sickle in your shoe usually does the trick."
I blinked to find Luna Lovegood standing in front of me.
"It just so happens that I gave him a Sickle just recently. Though it was for a different purpose entirely," Manila informed her with a giggle.
As I unsuccessfully tried to wrap my mind around the concept of Luna and Manila together, my attention was drawn to the front of the room by someone attempting to cast a sonorus spell. Wincing at the loud noise as they tried to properly adjust the spell; I realized just who it was that was up there: the Creevey brothers. Bugger, I don't think I even want to know what those two are doing.
"And now a poem: Ode to Our Hero Harry Potter by Dennis and Colin Creevey."
"Oh no no no no!" I groaned with a horrified expression.
I was right: I really didn't want to know. But as I turned back to speak with Luna I found that she and Manila were deep in conversation about... Well, I'm not really sure what it was exactly they were discussing, though both were fully absorbed in it. And so I reluctantly found my attention drawn back to the front of the room.
"Harry Potter the brave Gryffindor,
whose name shall ever be spoken in lore..."
The poem seemed to go on for an overly long time and just when I thought it couldn't possibly get any more horrible, it did. But finally, finally, it was over. Looking around I decided that I had had enough. I don't think I could have stayed any longer without doing something. My friends all looked terribly upset (expect for Luna, she was still deep in conversation with Manila) as did most everyone else in the room. They were grieving for me but I was still there...and they would never know. I quickly found Sullivan and dragged Manila away from Luna and headed out the door. No one even noticed when I left.
"I sorta liked when they rhymed 'potter' with 'otter'," Sullivan commented as we walked out the gates. "Now...how did it go again?" He struck a theatrical pose and recited in a dramatic voice "'All adore the great Harry Potter from slimy floberworm to brown sea otter'..."
I groaned as the Creevey brothers had seemed to be overly fond of saying my name. In the poem they had also managed to rhyme it with 'plotter', 'thought her', and embarrassingly enough-- 'hotter'.
"Oh oh how about when they rhymed 'heart' with 'treacle tart'!" snickered Manila. "That was my personal favourite!"
"Ha ha very funny," I said as we parted ways.
Apparating away I gave a sigh of relief as--contrary to what Curtis had thought--I hadn't managed to do anything stupid. But walking into my dark and empty room I felt a loneliness more keenly then ever before. Sullivan and Manila were great...but they weren't friends...not really. My real friends were back there mourning a life I had left behind. Tears pricked my eyes as I lay there in the dark--not bothering to turn on a light. It had been so hard to see them all today; Ron and Hermione especially...
I was never to speak to them again and if I saw them at all it would be mere glimpses in places such as Diagon Alley. Harry Potter was dead and gone and buried today. My friends had mourned and would go on with their lives. Lives that I could never be a part of. I never thought I'd miss the life of 'The-Boy-Who-Lived'...
There would be no more fame or newspaper headlines (good or bad) or Dursleys or manic evil wizards out to get me. But too there would be no more Hogwarts or Quidditch or the friends that I had made.
No more sneaking out under the cover of an invisibility cloak. No more late night researching sessions. No more WWW testing parties. No more Hermione making sure that I studied and got enough sleep. No more Ron challenging me to chess games and Quidditch discussions...
Seeing them today had been harder than I had expected. Perhaps the stupid thing had been going to the funeral at all... But no, I had needed to go. To see my friends one last time. To say goodbye...not only to them but to my old life as well. As I said: Harry Potter is dead and gone and buried today...and I would miss him.
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