Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does. Also, the song To Build a Home belongs to The Cinematic Orchestra.
Warning: Long author's note at the end, but people who care about pairings should check down there. Also, if you want to see the totally awesome scene where Harry sets something afire and then conjures something totally awesome, just click on the image for the story. My inspiration for the scene. And review ! Completely Harry-centric chapter up ahead!
Chapter 3: The Misery of the Legend
White. That was the first impression Harry had of his surroundings.
Everything was white – even the misty, floor like thing he was standing on. It was neither cold, neither hot, but Harry could feel a sense of warmth within him, something that filled him up with a feeling of content.
This – this was light magic, he thought, suddenly remembering afternoons spent atop treetops, away from the world, where he had been at peace. The smell of freshly mown grass tickled his nose, and he could feel a soft breeze caressing his face; could feel the pleasant sunlight on his skin.
He could stay here forever, doing nothing, just being. He could be the just Harry he sometimes wished he could be, safe from Voldemort, from the Dursleys, from the Tournament, from being –
"Harry Potter."He nearly jumped a foot in the air as a rich, deep voice echoed around the place. It was like standing within a cave and hearing echoes bounce back at him, the sound was coming from all directions at once.
"W-Who are you?" asked Harry, feeling slightly unnerved – the voice itself had a presence which unsettled him. "Show yourself!"
"But I am right before you," said the voice, sounding amused.
"Where?" asked Harry, whirling around and plunging his hand into his pocket, only to find his wand missing. "Where's my wand?!"
"You won't need it here, Harry Potter. Tell me, why have you come here?"
"Who are you?" persisted Harry, panicking slightly now. The grass, the wind and the sun seemed to have been swept away, and now he was simply standing in a room that stretched to infinity but was filled with a cloying presence, one that made him feel tiny and insignificant.
"Me? I am many things...I am the alpha, and I am the omega. I am Shiva, the destroyer of worlds, and I am the keeper of the balance. I am in you, around you, with you and without you. I am nowhere, and yet I am everywhere and everything at once."
"If you didn't want to tell me, you could have just said so," grumbled Harry, rubbing his head and trying to make head or tail of what he'd just heard.
A deep rumble shook him to the very core, before he realized that whoever the entity was, it was chuckling.
"I like you, Harry Potter. Tell me, what gift have you to offer me?"
Gift? Harry thought wildly, before Firenze's words came back to him. It is Light Magic of a very old kind, Harry Potter, the kind that requires sacrifice...
He gulped, thinking that this was in none of the books he'd read. Then again, most of the people who'd written their accounts of the ritual had been quite fuzzy on the details later, only recounting a vague feeling of fulfilment.
A gift? He thought again.
"A gift, an ability, a talent unique to you," mused the voice, and Harry started. It was reading his mind!
"Indeed. And what might you have to offer me, Harry Potter? An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, and a favour for a favour, because that is the Law of Olde."
"A moment to think, please..." requested Harry, a bit weakly.
Another earth-shaking chuckle. "Take all the time you need, for Time dare not enter in this realm."
So time passed, and Harry thought, wondering what exactly he wanted to, or could afford to give up.
As if helping him along, images began flashing in his mind...
He was talking to the Boa Constrictor, because he was a Parseltongue, and he had the ability to converse with snakes when he glanced in their eyes -
He was struggling to bend time, trying to stop the Avada Kedavra from hitting Cedric -
He was running across the Black Lake, by virtue of the power the Basilisk had granted him –
"You killed one of the holy trinity," said the voice, sounding surprised.
"Sorry?" asked Harry, puzzled.
"The holy trinity," repeated the voice, and a huge symbol appeared before him. It was a triangle with three circles at each end.
At the very top was a magnificent phoenix, its wings aflame. It looked nothing like Fawkes, who was tiny compared to the magnificent flaming beast that was at the apex of the triangle. "The lord of fire and air, the immortal at the apex of the Trinity,"said the voice.
Another creature appeared in the bottom left corner of the triangle, and the voice spoke again. "The lord of the earth, and the greatest predator known in this universe or the next."Harry recognized the huge leopard-like creature from Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, though he was sure that none of the Nundus illustrated in the book were quite that large, though they did breathe they same noxious fumes this one was.
And the final circle was filled with a creature that still sent shivers up Harry's spines. He looked at it with unfettered awe, and realized with a jolt that the Basilisk he'd killed had nothing on this creature. "The lord of water, and the King of Serpents, the Basilisk."
"Together, they form the Holy Trinity of the Creature world, the mythical creatures at the very top of the animal kingdom. Nigh invincible in their own element, to kill one is to gain the favour of its domain, and to befriend one is to gain their eternal companionship."
Harry suddenly found himself understanding why he'd suddenly gained an affinity for all sorts of water spells along with his love for fire ones, and he realized why the Chamber had so many pools and ditches all over the place.
He shivered, wondering what might have happened had the Basilisk truly unleashed his powers, but wrenched himself out of such thoughts. An idea had struck him, one that could benefit him immensely if he pulled it off.
"Great being," he said, feeling that he should be appropriately humble, "I offer not one gift, but two, so that I may gain your favour and gain the power I need to defeat my enemy and save my friend."
"Is that truly why you seek this power?" asked the voice, and he rejoiced when he could trace the slightest bits of curiosity in its voice. "To fight and wage war?"
"I fight so that I never have to fight again," said Harry, "so that those I love don't have to fight, so that no harm comes to those I care about. Enough people have died to save my life, and I want no more to fall so that I can live."He choked up as he thought of James and Lily's sacrifice, and he promised himself that he would get Cedric out of the graveyard alive, no matter what.
"Be careful with your promises, Harry Potter, for not all promises can be kept. What are the gifts that you would have me take?"
"There is great power in my scar, Great One," said Harry, "and it has granted me the ability to speak with snakes, and I feel it has more secrets to give up..." He had no desire to keep a piece of Voldemort within him, and getting rid of it this way would not only be ironic, but highly convenient.
The entire atmosphere of the room changed. Harry shivered as a blast of cold air chilled him to his very core, and suddenly his mind was filled with images of dead, barren wastelands and empty souls.
"Do you take me for a fool?!" thundered the voice, and Harry quailed in his shoes. "You would sully me with this darkness for your own clever gain, and be rid of the burden you are forced to carry by Destiny?!"
Harry fought against the terrible desire to crawl out of his own skin and run like hell. "All p-power is a burden," he managed to stutter, "whether it be gained by hard work, or be forced upon one by Destiny."
The anger subsided, and he almost cried in relief when he felt warmth pool within him again. Instead, he could now feel an overwhelming curiosity from the being.
"You are a strange one...but no, this is a gift I cannot accept. What is the other that you propose?"
Harry held out his hand, showing the golden scar that ran along its length.
"I have not explored this power much,"he said, feeling unnerved again, "but I can bend time to my will for very small amounts of time if I put my entire mind to it. I fear, however, that the power to manipulate time is not one to be carried by humans, for I can feel that it is a force beyond me, beyond all Humanity."
"Once more you try to get rid of that which scares you, to try and make your path in Life easier." An audible sigh rang around the room, and Harry's heart sank to his knees. This was it, this was the end then.
"But I cannot pretend that I am not interested..." Harry's head shot up, and suddenly his heart was miraculously pounding away in his throat, "Lady Time and I...have not the best relationship. To gain a measure of control over her, to somehow curb her dance through Universes and dimensions..."
There was a long, long pause.
"We have a deal, Harry Potter. Power for power. Use it well."
Harry felt a burning in his hand, and he suddenly fell to his one knee; his arm was one fire. A golden shaft of light burst out from the long scar, and before he knew it, it was gone, leaving only smooth skin behind.
Fog was descending on the world, a world which he decided he would never again return to.
He dropped onto all fours as a strange heat pooled in his stomach, before it burst outwards, bathing his entire body in power –
The world exploded once more in light, and Harry's eyes shot open to look into Voldemort's red ones once more.
His mind was as sharp and clear as a shard of glass, his body as fit and powerful as a coiled tiger. He could feel the magic pooling in very cell of his body, augmenting his mind, slowing down his perception of the world around him until it was too much for him to bear –
With a primal roar, Harry exploded out of his bindings, a shockwave of magic sending Voldemort rocketing backwards.
The Death Eaters gasped, drawing their wands and stepping forward as one.
"Do nothing!" screamed Voldemort, his eyes wide. "He is mine, only mine! Stay back!"
"Harry –" gasped Cedric, his eyes wide, but Harry paid him no heed. "Get behind me," was all he said, before he unleashed his fury.
Cedric saw the wisdom behind his words – the Death Eaters wouldn't dare send spells his way out of fear of hitting Harry and inciting Voldemort's wrath. The Hufflepuff shivered at the sight of the newly resurrected Dark Lord, and promised himself that the other Hogwarts champion would have his undying gratitude if he managed to get them out of here.
Harry, on the other hand, hadn't let up for a moment. He could feel every bit of magic around him; the spells building up on the tips of the Death Eaters wand, the tendrils of power from Voldemort as he too tried to assess the situation around him.
His arm was still moving forward from the force of breaking free of the ropes. Twitching them slightly, he sent of three Bludgeoning Hexes in quick succession, forcing Voldemort to throw up a shield to deflect them, his eyes wide.
Everything was slowing up and speeding down in bursts, and for a wild second, Harry thought that he'd somehow retained and mastered his control of his time. He realized after a second that it wasn't Time that was moving faster or slower – it was him.
Bolstered with this knowledge, he sent off another burst of spells Voldemort's way, this time nearly half a dozen cutters. He wasn't about to waste time with the more elaborate spells which required complex wand motions, not until Voldemort upped the ante.
He wasn't worried about casting those spells too; the idea of being unable to perform any magic he knew – even the ones he'd only read – seemed laughable right now. He could remember everything he'd read, every spell he'd practiced in clear detail –
Page 369 of Curses for the Cursed, diagram 7.8.2. A jerk of the wand to the left, followed by a forceful thrust outwards.
The Bone-Breaking Hex was a near-inferno of yellow instead of its usual jet, travelling through the air at high speeds.
Voldemort conjured up a block of solid bricks to intercept it, twirling and twisting his wand as his shield was shattered to pieces.
Angry bees formed from the pieces of stone, their buzzing sound audible even over the bangs of spellfire.
He waved his wand in a diagonal slash from the bottom right to his left, shouting, "Coniuro Flamma!"
A stream of solid fire formed before him, roasting the insects alive; a disgusting smell assaulted their noses.
Harry wasn't done yet, though. Still following the momentum of his last spell, he brought his wand up over his head, lowered it in a full semi-circle and then did a clockwise spiral outwards.
"Telum exardesco!" Flaming arrows shot at Voldemort, who was forced to dive out of the way as the ground behind him blew apart in a spectacular explosion.
Never missing a beat, Harry let his inertia twist him to his left where he felt the oncoming stray spell. With a simple Protego, the spell was deflected smartly back, followed by a stunner from Cedric.
"Get the cup!" said Harry, and Cedric gave a terse nod, his face set – he was performing admirably for someone who'd never been in such a situation before. He was a Hogwarts Champion, after all. "Summon it!"
Cedric had felt his own strength take a sharp decline when Harry had enacted the strange ritual, and he'd hoped Voldemort had felt a similar decline. Thankfully, he had enough to perform basic magic; in fact, Harry's very presence next to him was bolstering him, pushing him forward. He would have Apparated them away, but he was taking no chances with. Side-Along was difficult enough without dodging spells, any Splinching could prove fatal for Harry.
Harry twisted around to face Voldemort again, and he was shocked to see the veritable hailstorm of spells coming his way.
He threw his arms out, incanting widely, and he managed to throw up a shield just in time. It was an Auror level spell he'd found while flipping through random books, and marked up just because of the insanely cool illustration depicted on the page.
The air around him seemed to solidify for a moment, and he felt a rush of success when he was sure he'd pulled it off. The Dark Lord's spells collided spectacularly with the A-334 Bunker Shield, sending ripples of clear magic outwards like water where it collided with the shield. The ground shook, Cedric clapped his hands to his ears at the sheer sound it produced, his wand forgotten.
"What is this, Potter?!" shrieked Voldemort, his eyes wide, "what madness have you wrought?"
Harry didn't reply, choosing to go on the offensive. The slightest tone of fear in the Dark Lord's voice was enough for him, near imperceptible though it was. Voldemort was at his weakest right now, and Harry intended to take advantage of it.
This was the wizard who'd killed his parents, who'd killed Lily and James. Voldemort was the reason he had no parents. Voldemort was the reason he had to live with the Dursleys. Voldemort was the reason Harry had spent his childhood in a cupboard. He was the reason that Harry had no friends until he was eleven, the reason why he was under constant scrutiny from the public.
Anger rose in him like a tidal wave, and he showed no resistance as it burst out from his being. A pure ball of white magic sped at Voldemort, who called down crackling Dark Magic to counter it. Plants wilted and the earth grew barren around the Dark Lord, and Harry wondered for a split second how the Muggles would explain this the next morning.
Voldemort suddenly realized that Cedric had his wand pointed at the Cup, and understood what he was trying to do. With a speed and accuracy that emphasized why he was the most feared wizard in several millennia, he sent four Killing Curses at Harry and Cedric's way.
The teenagers were forced to split up as they both dived in opposite directions, rolling away to avoid the green jets.
Harry came to rest behind a headstone, his heart still pounding liquid magma through his veins. He had no idea how much time had passed, but he knew that the boost wouldn't last forever.
An explosion drew his attention, and with a feeling of horror, he realized that the Death Eaters and Voldemort were aiming for the Cup instead of him.
A green spell connected with the Triwizard Trophy, but instead of exploding apart, it simply disappeared. Harry started; of course, the Cup was too old and magical not to have some near-sentient form of defense. He could only hope that it had returned to Hogwarts, and people would investigate when it turned up without either Champion.
Crack! Two tombstones over, Cedric was nowhere to be seen; it seemed the boy had drudged up enough energy to apparate away. Harry swore, the elder boy had Apparated away and left him to fend for himself – so much for Hufflepuff loyalty.
He was on his own now. Silence descended over the graveyard, and Harry knew it was only seconds before Voldemort discovered where he was hiding – he was practically radiating magic.
"Did your power run out, little Harry?" mocked Voldemort, confidence dripping from his voice once more. "Did you finally realize that you are no match for Lord Voldemort, boy? Are you finally tired of this, do you want it to end?"
He heard soft footsteps approaching, the sound of Voldemort's bare feet on the grass. "You put up a brave fight, Harry, much better than wizards twice your age. Much better than your father, a waste of Pureblood flesh he was, Harry..."
A wellspring of hate bloomed within him, and Harry leapt out from the cover of the gravestone again.
Voldemort, however, was ready. Harry's eyes widened as he saw a huge, flaming serpent bearing down on him.
For a second, he stared at it, his hand hanging by his side limply. Then he remembered –
To kill one is to gain the favour of its domain –
With a flick of his wand and a shouted incantation, a whirlwind of water appeared before him. The fire-Basilisk struck, and it was sucked into the vortex of water, dissipating into the huge sphere of water that formed.
Deciding to fight fire with fire, Harry decided that if he was to go out tonight, he would go out in style.
Another muttered spell, a moment of extreme concentration – a smoky avian creature leaked out from his wand, and he knew that he'd been successful.
A tiny lick of flame winked into existence at the very base of the watery sphere, yet no steam was created. The Death Eaters watched, entranced, as the flames spread over the sphere, setting fire to the water, creating a distorted light show of red and blue. With a final flick, the flames shot up into the sky.
The image of the avian he'd seen less than half an hour ago firmly in his mind, Harry yelled, "IGNEA AVIS!"
A phoenix – a gigantic, magnificent phoenix of pure fire shot into the sky, a hundred times the size of Dumbledore's familiar. With a screech that sent raw fire through Harry's nerves, it spread its wings out towards the heavens. Harry stumbled, his strength falling like a rock, until he caught his second wind – only this time, he was burning through his magic at a prodigious rate.
The Death Eaters stopped short, in awe of the sight before them. The Phoenix cast the entire world into a play of flame and shadow, sending stray sparks and motes of fire swirling through the air. The atmosphere around them superheated, sending sweat running down their faces, as its tail swished in the air, propelling itself up.
It rose in the air, like a behemoth from an age long past, and beneath it stood a lonely figure cast in shadow, wand raised towards the Heavens. It was an awe inspiring sight –
Until the Phoenix stilled in midair for a long second, and then dived.
There was a mad rush to escape the flaming bird, magic forgotten in the moment of panic. Even Voldemort stood still for a moment before he Apparated away to a safe distance. The phoenix crashed into the earth with the force of a couple of giants, shaking the earth and sending the Death Eaters stumbling.
A huge fireball exploded outwards, and screams rent the air as two of the Inner Circle were charred alive in the fire.
Harry's eyes widened in shock, and he suddenly realized what he'd done –
He had no time to think, though, when he sensed Voldemort appear behind him, the Killing Curse on his lips –
Dragging up the last of the magic he was burning through, Harry shouted the first thing that came to his mind –
"EXPELLIARMUS!"
The red inferno collided with Voldemort's own overpowered spell, and golden flames erupted where they met. Harry's power seemed to diminish by half again, and he sank to his knees, somehow keeping the spell going.
A lattice of golden energy shot out from the point of collision, forming a golden web around the two duellists and raising them into the air.
"Master –"
"Silence!" screamed Voldemort, "stay where you are, he is mine to conquer –"
Harry felt his strength flagging, and his red stream of light started to grow erratic as his eyes drooped shut. And then he heard it, blessed phoenix song-
But he was so tired...
Don't break the connection.
But he was tired, and he wanted to close his eyes, and just rest...
Don't break the connection.
Harry forced himself up on his legs, concentrating on keeping the spell going. It was then that he noticed the ghostly beads making his way towards his wand, which was vibrating like mad.
Instinct guided him, and he forced the last of his willpower to force those beads towards Voldemort's wand –
The beads slowed, stopped, and then reversed direction towards Voldemort's wand. Th Dark Lord's eyes widened, and he too, began pushing on the beads –
Harry sank to his knees again, trying to keep his mind focused.
Don't break the connection.
"You will die tonight, Harry Potter," hissed Voldemort, his eyes determined.
No. Thought Harry, No, I won't. Not after everything I did tonight.
Voldemort's eyes widened again as Harry managed to get up again, and for the first time, the fear was clearly visible on his face.
The beads wavered, and Harry began pushing on them once more with everything he had. Sweat poured down his face, his vision blurred, but he kept going –
"Why do you get up again?" asked Voldemort, his voice almost hushed. "Why do you keep fighting, when you know it is impossible to survive?"
"Because I can," said Harry through gritted teeth, and with the absolute last of his energy, he gave a roar and forced the beads into Voldemort's wand.
Harry sank to his knees, not even bothering to look up and see the effects, when his vision began to swim alarmingly.
"Wizard, was he, boy?" he heard a voice say, "you fight him, boy, you've done good so far!"
Screams of pain, and then another voice, female this time, entered his field of hearing. "Hold on, Harry," urged the voice gently, "don't die on us now –"
He'd promised himself he wouldn't die tonight.
Be careful with your promises, Harry Potter, for not all promises can be kept.
No, this one he would keep, come hell or high water.
He looked up as the world came into focus somewhat, and he was shocked to find himself looking at Bertha Jorkins, who looked to be neither ghost nor alive – neither here, nor there.
"They are coming," she said with a small smile, "they are coming..."
And his question died on his lips when another figure burst out of a shocked Voldemort's wand, and fell to the ground before straightening itself.
The smoky shape of Lily Potter walked towards him with a smile playing on her lips, though her eyes roved over him sorrowfully. "You've been so brave, Harry," she said, and through his ears, her voice sounded like it was miles away. "So brave..."
He felt hot tracks of moisture down his cheeks and he realized that he was crying. Lily reached up to wipe his tears away, but stopped short – both of them somehow knew that she wouldn't be able to talk to him.
"Your father's coming," she said quietly, "he wants to see you...he's so proud..."
And sure enough, a male figure had fallen from Voldemort's wand and was straightening itself now. Harry's heart jumped a few beats at the sight of messy hair and round glasses, at the sight of James Potter looking at him with a sad smile.
"You've done so well, Bambi," and Harry gave a snort at the ridiculous nickname, though the tears on his face fell faster. To hear his own father speak to him like that, whatever he called his son...Harry found his own words stuck in his throat, and he was only able to sob unabashedly at the sight of his own dead parents. "I could not be prouder," but his heart strangely grew heavier at the praise instead of soaring.
Every conversation he'd imagined, every scenario he'd thought of, every reunion he'd dreamed of, everything had been wiped from his mind when he'd seen Lily and James Potter before him.
"You must break the connection," said James gravely, but Harry shook his head wildly. Breaking the connection would mean his parents disappearing, he knew, and he would never let that happen, because he could never have enough of looking at them hungrily through blurred eyes.
"Harry, you must," said Lily, who had her own ghostly tears sliding down her face. "Sweetheart, you must. When the connection breaks, we will be able to linger for a moment, enough for you to escape –"
"Call the cup to you, son," said James, "you are now the Champion of the Triwizard Tournament, it will come to you."
He nodded, but his heart wasn't in it. "Let me come with you," he begged, "please, let me come with you, I'll be good, I promise I will –"
"Oh honey," said Lily, her own tears falling fast and thick, "we can't, we can't!You must live, because you have so much to live for, so much to do –"
"We love you, Harry," said his father, and Harry started in wonder, never thinking he would hear those words.
"We love you so much, but you must leave now –"
Other figures had erupted from Voldemort's wand, but Harry couldn't bring himself to care. He nodded blindly, but he wished he could stand here forever, irrespective of the Dark Lord he was duelling, and just be with his parents...
"Now," said James, and Harry knew goodbye had come.
"Now!" he half yelled, half choked, and wrenched his wand. The connection vanished and he sagged without the support of the phoenix song, and he concentrated like he had never before on the image of his cup.
He looked up to find the ghostly figures converging on Voldemort, and he swore his parents turned and smiled at the last second.
And then a flash of blue materialised in his hand, and his world was the whirlwind of a Portkey.
...o0oOo0o...
It was three hours later that he was lying in the Hospital Wing, unable to sleep. The official story was that he'd been kidnapped by a group of Dark Wizards led by an insider in Hogwarts, whose identity was still under investigation – Fudge had firmly refused to see the truth.
Moody. It had been Moody all along who'd conducted this entire farce. The man who'd shown Harry what he truly was, who had fanned the fire within him to set himself on the path of legends...
Anger and hate exploded within Harry, but it was far outshadowed by a sense of grief.
It was crushing, overwhelming grief, making his eyes feel heavy again with the feeling of unshed tears.
Legends no longer mattered, not when he'd seen the shades of his dead parents only hours ago. Being known for something other than being the Boy-Who-Lived, in fact, being overtly famous seemed to pale in comparison to having a family, being at peace, and being loved.
He had no family – Cedric's mother was still keeping silent vigil by his bedside, but Harry had been allowed no visitors because he had no immediate family. He would have no peace for some time to come. And love...the only people who'd told him they loved him were dead.
He cursed himself for the ever growing heaviness in his eyes, for the overwhelming need to cry.
Cedric awoke with a gasp two beds next to him, and he couldn't squash the feeling of jealousy within him as his mother took him into his arms and muttered soothingly to him.
"I ran away," muttered Cedric, and Harry could hear the self-loathing and guilt in his voice, "he's only fourteen, and the cup vanished, and there was Voldemort, and I ran away –"
"Hush, dear," said his mother, and Harry could make out her rocking the boy in her arms. "It'll be alright, older wizards have failed before the Dark Lord."
"But he's fourteen," said Cedric in anguish, "you don't understand, the cup vanished –"
"I do, Ced," said Mrs. Diggory, and Harry was amazed to see that her voice held none of the exasperation that Petunia would surely display if it were to be Harry and her in their place. "The cup vanished...drink this, and it'll help you calm down –"
Mrs. Diggory coaxed Cedric into drinking his potion, and Harry quickly shut his eyes when she shifted and he thought she glanced her way. The urge to sleep was overwhelming, but he didn't want to just yet for some godforsaken reason, instinctively knowing that it would be a long time before he would wake again.
Cedric's mother was now singing gently to him, lulling him to sleep. Harry caught the words of the melody drifting his way, and he felt that he'd never heard anything more beautiful, with the exception of Phoenix Song.
There is a house built out of stone
Wooden floors, walls and window sills...
A quick tear leaked out of his eyes, but his arms felt too heavy to lift up and brush it away. It tickled on the way down the side of his face, but he was too lost in his thoughts to notice. He'd seen Lily and James Potter tonight; he'd seen his parents, and talked with them.
Another tear leaked out, and he made a sincere effort to stop. It was not to be, though, as the very song seemed to pull out any tears he had hidden within him.
Tables and chairs worn by all of the dust
This is a place where I don't feel alone...
He was alone...he was a murderer. He'd killed two men tonight, and he couldn't suppress the intense nausea he felt whenever he thought of it. He was a murderer – what would his parents think?
But they'd said that they were proud of him...
This is a place where I feel at home...
He felt his heart give a pang at these words, and he let his eyelids drift close once again. The tears started again, but he made no effort to stop them.
He cried for the loneliness that he'd always feel, for the home that he'd never have, and the parents that he'd never see in the flesh.
He cried for being the Boy-Who-Lived, and not just Harry Potter.
It was a long time before his eyes were dried out of tears, and he fell asleep in his soaked pillow, and it would be an even longer time before he awoke.
Author's Note: LONG AUTHOR'S NOTE AHEAD.
Well, this was even harder to write than Chapter 2, especially because of the ending. Before you tell me that Harry's being angsty/sappy, please bear in mind that he's still a fourteen year old whose life has gone to hell. I won't believe you if you tell me you never cried when you were that age.
Oh, and one more thing. The pairing. I was writing this chapter, and editing the end time and again until I realized that it may not go the way I'd originally planned. Everything's changed from the original story, and while Calli's still here, and so is Ginny...I don't know about the pairing. Harry was originally supposed to be a totally badass character and their relationships mayhem, so I don't know how he suddenly became so layered and complex to write. Both Ginny and Calli are flashbang-y {is that even a word?} people, and maybe that's not what Harry wants in the end.
So the pairing is in flux, and I'm even enticed to trash it altogether – Harry's internal growth and struggle will be tough enough to write. The legend or the peace?
Ginny lovers, don't hate me. Ginny haters...well, I don't know what to say. If you were reading the story for the pairing only...meh, it would have been a waste of time for you anyway. So get rooting for your GIRL - because I write no slash - and it may just work!
And finally, reviews are actually the currency on this site. If I get a decrease in reviews, I'll actually think my chapter is terrible, and while Chapter 2 was complex, it wasn't that bed (that reminds me, I'm putting up a minor explanation of the time-turner thing at the end of that chapter, so go check that out if you want to.) I was expecting to be at a hundred reviews in three chapters after the response to the first one, but it seems that it was not to be. But then again, Chapter 4 will be some time in coming, and this chapter had action and emotion enough for some serious reviewing. Time enough, eh?
If that hinting didn't get you, just leave a goddamn review on the way out. Any little message makes my day, and the more the better. If you're enjoying the story, should I not enjoy some reviews?