Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Year 7
She is dancing with a boy that she doesn't recognize at the wedding reception, a stocky redheaded boy with freckles and solemn, guarded eyes. It's a slow song, and the way he holds her is familiar. She thinks she knows who he is, but she pretends not to and makes small talk.
And then there's a silvery-white Patronus there, and it tells them that the ministry has fallen and the minister is dead, that they are all in danger. The boy looks at her again, and she sees pain flicker in his eyes.
"Please, Fay," he whispers.
"Please what?" she asks, and she feels her eyes become teary. She knows what he's going to do. He looks at her unhappily.
"Take care of yourself," he requests, kissing her forehead quickly. He pulls away and runs. She watches as he joins arms with Hermione, who joins arms with Ron, and the three of them watch her for a moment.
"Harry," she says softly. "Please don't go." But he goes anyway, Apparated with a crack that she can't even hear.
She stares at the dead bodies of all of the people who died and cries and cries and cries. She's crying, especially, for all the people that she knows (or maybe it would be proper to say that she knew them). There's Fred Weasley, who was probably one of the funniest people that she ever knew, and there's Colin Creevey, a nice kid that she met through the D.A., and there's Professor Lupin, the best professor that she's ever had, and then there's his wife, who she's only met once or twice but that she liked and who just had a little baby a few days ago. And she cries especially for Megan, her best friend Megan, who she was with. She was there when Megan died, and she couldn't stop it. The thought makes her sobs triple.
She supposes that she will be able to see the threstrals now, if she couldn't already.
Beside her, Susan is sitting still, as still as one can. Fay would think that she was dead, too, if it weren't for her heavy breathing. Susan is injured; her leg is broken, and she can't possibly walk, let alone run if she needs to. She might be trapped when the ceasefire stops.
"Faith! Susan!" someone calls. It's Ernie Macmillan, but he's hard to recognize with that huge scar down his face. Fay has never been so happy in her life to see him that she doesn't notice that it's also the first time he's ever called her by her first name. Fay needs someone right now, someone who's alive, unlike Megan, someone who's sturdy, unlike Susan, someone who's here, unlike Harry. She's off the ground and she rushes to hug Ernie Macmillan.
"Thank God, Macmillan. I was worried that they got you, too!" And even though she hadn't even thought about Ernie, she knows that it's true. She can't take anyone else that she knows, even someone she can't stand, dying now.
But the Death Eaters are marching to the castle, and Voldemort's voice is magnified, and he tells them that Harry Potter has fallen. Almost everyone that is able rushes out, and Fay goes with them, her tears drying as she loses the ability to think for herself. She can't believe that Harry is dead, and really, she doesn't, until the moment that she steps outside and sees the figure of Hagrid holding something. It's a body, she realizes, and it not just anyone's body, but Harry Potter's body.
And that when Fay falls apart.
The others don't notice her as she stiffens; they are too busy wailing themselves on the outside. On the inside, she falls apart, and she feels pain to a point it's almost physical. She's so dizzy. They've killed him. Harry, HER Harry, is dead and gone. How could they kill him? How could he let them kill him? Why would he do that? Surely he knew that he was their only hope. Didn't he know that they needed him?
Didn't he know that Faith needed him?
She will fight now. She will fight, because there is very, very little that she wouldn't do for her Harry.
He isn't dead. He isn't dead at all, and instead, he is standing mere feet away from her with an expression on his face that she can't understand. He's filthy, his hair matted and his robes caked with dirt. There's a little blood on his cheek, and there's part of her that longs to wipe it away.
She stands still. He's done it, he's killed Voldemort. The part of her that wants to run to him is suppressed by the part of her that doesn't understand what's going on. She looks at him and she wishes that it's true, that she isn't dreaming.
"Hello, Faith," he says. Strangely enough, he doesn't sound like he's died tonight, and his voice is the same as ever. She can hear him well. It seems like everyone in the Hall is watching them, even the dead bodies on the floor, and somehow, it doesn't feel as awkward as she would have thought.
"Hi, Harry," she says softly.
"I see that you took care of yourself," he says quietly, looking her over from head to toe.
"Only because you asked me to so politely," she says, and she's only half joking. There were a lot of nights, frightening nights, when snatchers were so close to killing her, and she only managed to escape because she had to keep a promise. She looks him over, once, twice, thrice before she speaks again. "Bloody hell, Potter. I thought you were dead. I nearly went insane."
"I'm sorry, Fay."
She looks at him darkly. "You should be," she mutters.
"I am." He takes a deep breath and moves forward. They are separated by seven steps "I missed you." There's his eyes again, eyes that might be pieces of his soul stuck into his face.
She can't help it. "I missed you, too." She moves, too. "I'm really glad that you're not dead."
Six steps.
"I would have found a way back to you, even if I was."
Five steps.
"Really?" she finds herself asking. Her eyes grow teary.
Four steps.
"Yes." Three steps. Then, "I will always find my way back to you."
"Promise?"
Two steps.
"I promise."
One step.
She can't take it, and she closes that step by jumping at him, throwing her arms around his neck. She sobs into his neck, crying that she missed him, she worried about him, that he was dead. He presses his face into her hair.
"I know, I know," he whispers. "It's okay. It's over, Fay. It's all over now."
She looks up at him and sniffles. "I love you," she whispers.
He pauses. "I love you, too."
And she knows that it's no lie, and that now, he really is hers. Maybe even forever.
Zero steps.
So, what do you think? Was that OOC of Harry? I can't tell.
There's only the epilogue left now, and I have no idea how to follow up on this. Unless I do a rewrite. I might do that. But the rewrite would be different, way more detailed. I might even change Fay's personality, or her house.
So, four questions: 1) what do you think? 2) if I rewrote it, would you reread it? and 3) What house should Faith be in if there's a rewrite? and 4) if not a rewrite of this story, what Harry Potter character should I do a romance for? Please tell me what you think!
