Sorry this chapter took so long. I was distracted and kinda lost my story thread for this... But I found it again. :o
The Poem in this is mine and is called, "The Prayer of the Lost." Steal and die.
The cliffhanger in this is dedicated to Ankha. I made it as cruel as possible just for her. ;o
And now... a moment of silence for those lost in battle of any and all types.
Please review, it gives me a great thrill. Thanks!
Enjoy! Even if you don't review...
Dumbledore slowly stepped from the shadows as he watched Remus Lupin disappear from the room after his friend. He shook his head sadly, wondering where everything had gone wrong. Wasn't it just yesterday that there was no Voldemort, let alone a Dark Lord the wizarding community feared enough to avoid so much as his name?
Dumbledore sat on Harry's bed and smoothed back Harry's hair before running a hand through his own long white beard. He felt very old and extremely decrepit as he silently regarded Harry, but these feelings were slight when compared to his guilt and remorse. He couldn't help but feel that Severus was correct when he said he had placed too much responsibility on young Harry's shoulders. It wasn't fair to the poor boy to have to live this way - to have to die this way.
Dumbledore remembered being young once too. He had enjoyed it a great deal, flirting with the girls, playing Quidditch with his friends. Back then, men were meant to be gentlemen and everyone was supposed to be an adult no matter their actual age. No one would have thought twice of Harry fighting alongside the adult wizards, he would have simply been given consideration for being so young and inexperienced. Now Dumbledore was ridiculed for allowing Harry his role and Harry was given a taste of how his life might be without the darkness that threatened his world. Dumbledore had to feel sorry for the boy that he had a taste of a child's life, but could never truly achieve it and regret that he had to allow Harry to place himself in harm's way.
If he could, Dumbledore knew he would give Harry a much simpler existence. Life with someone who cared for him and the only dangerous mystery being how to explore the Forbidden Forest without being discovered by Filch. That was the life Harry wanted and the life Dumbledore didn't know if he could grant.
But there is a chance, Dumbledore tried reminding himself. Severus has finally let himself feel something besides dislike for the boy. Perhaps he will care for Harry when he returns until school starts up again. It would be good for them both to have the other to depend on. They were so much alike. And Severus had protected Harry for so long already, surely it would be a pleasant situation for both if they were to have one another to lean on.
Even then, though, Harry wouldn't be a normal boy of today. Not even allowing Severus full range in his protectiveness could shield the child now. Voldemort had succeeded in taking what chance at a normal childhood of today Harry had had and destroyed. No matter the ridicule, Harry was intricately involved in the war that was coming, that had already begun.
Dumbledore smoothed Harry's stubbornly unruly hair back, "I'm sorry, Harry. I wish I could make it so this world had no war. Make it so that I didn't have to steer you into danger, that I didn't have to treat you like a child of my day. I wish I could give you dreams that held no fear.."
Harry didn't answer, he simply laid there, pale, thin and silent.
"Please wake up, my boy. There are many who want to see you again," Dumbledore continued in a soft voice. "We can't give you a normal childhood, but we do care for you. Sirius is mad with worry and I have never seen Professor McGonagall so beside herself with worry."
Dumbledore's gentle pleading had no effect and he sighed as he realized that he had hoped there might be one. Perhaps Sirius had been right. Perhaps Harry was better off sleeping forever. Voldemort could not hurt him then. He would finally be safe, maybe even free to be a child again.
"I'm lost in darkness
My secrets irrelevant
My worries forgotten
My cares flown away
I'm found in memory
You carry me in your heart
You keep me in your mind
You know I remain in joy"
Dumbledore whispered The Prayer of the Lost to himself before rising and turning to follow Sirius and Remus, hoping to help comfort someone who was still among the waking living. Just as he reached the door, he heard a voice cry, "Snape!"
Dumbledore whirled at the sound of Harry's voice and rushed to his side, catching him just as he jerked and began to tumble from the bed.
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Harry opened his eyes to nothingness and jerked back in surprise, his body shivering uncontrollably. He was floating in a bright nothingness where only light and he existed for as far as he could see. Confusion flooded his body as he looked desperately around him.
"But-" he said softly, "I thought I was supposed to be sent to Snape?"
"You will be," answered a familiar hissing voice, sending Harry tumbling end over end into the nothingness. "I just thought you'd like to reconsider your decision. I can't send you to the others, but I can give you a peaceful death..."
Harry turned to glare at the snake, before turning to survey the landscape again, "How do I get to Professor Snape?"
"Why would you want to," asked the snake. "Nothing awaits you there. Or in life. Voldemort will always chase you, he will always want you dead. Perhaps, one day, he will succeed in the endeavor. Everyone waits for it to happen. No one expects you to survive a second time, after all."
Harry snorted in cynical disbelief, "Of course they do. I'm Harry Potter, the boy who lived. I'm their hero. None of them would ever think of remembering I'm only 15."
"Ah...." replied the snake with an eerily sly grin, "But they do..."
Then the snake's mouth moved, but from it issued not it's own voice, but the voices of Sirius and Dumbledore.
"Maybe...Maybe it would be kinder to just let him go..."
"I'm lost in darkness... I'm found in memory..."
"That last was part of the Prayer of the Lost, an ancient poem. Dumbledore was quoting it about you. I, personally, think he was saying good-bye," the snake told Harry, his black scales glistening.
Harry shook his head. It couldn't be true. Dumbledore, Sirius wouldn't let him go like this. Sirius at least loved him enough to wait for him, to want him to come back.
'Why should he,' something inside Harry whispered sullenly, 'You let Wormtail escape. If not for your foolishness, Voldemort would still be a vengeful wraith. They want rid of you. You're nothing but bad luck! It was because of you your parents died!'
"No..." whispered Harry back, shaking his head in denial, tears dripping from his squinched eyelids.
"Yes..." whispered back the snake, evil joy tinging its voice.
'Snape knew it from the beginning. That's why he hated you. He knew you'd get him killed. And you've finally done it.'
"No..." Harry cried softly. He opened his eyes to see the snake wrapped around a hole in the emptiness. The hole showed Snape as he trudged down an ivy-covered stone corridor.
Snape looked old as he walked along, his face was paler than normal, his hands shook with fatigue and his stumbled slightly with each step. His robes were torn and tattered, blood that Harry couldn't tell if it was Snape's or not spotted them generously in places. He held one of his wrists as though it pained him and his face reflected hopelessness.
"Professor..." Harry breathed, stunned. He had never thought his cruel, icy teacher could be beaten so badly. He had always seemed so strong, almost invincible.
A movement at the back of the area caught Harry's eye and he gasped as he realized it to be one of the many dark creatures the labyrinth held. All fear and self-pity were shoved aside as panic and a sense of urgency overtook him.
Harry made a fumbling leap for the picture, "Snape!" He screamed in misery as he scrambled to make it to his teacher in time.
"Send me to Snape! Do your job! Send me to Snape!"
"But you can do nothing," the snake hissed. "You are helpless."
Harry ignored the snake and screamed, "Snape!"
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Harry continued to jump and jerk on the bed for what seemed like eternity to Dumbledore. The child was as active now as he had been inactive before and Dumbledore was unsure how much longer he could hold him.
Suddenly Harry stopped. He laid still, though his eyes under their lids continued to move. Tears continued to roll from his eyes and Dumbledore wondered when they had started.
"Harry, wake up! Come back to us now," Dumbledore called to him desperately.
"What," asked Madame Pomfrey as she ran into the room, looking very frazzled. "What's happened?"
"He started to have something like a seizure and called for Severus," Dumbledore said as he began to gently slap his hand, hoping to stimulate him back awake.
Madame Pomfrey came around to the other side of the bed and began to examine Harry, her expert hands and wands quickly moving over him.
"The spell still holds him," she said. "I've never seen anything like this. He might be connected to Severus now because of the spell he used."
"Is the spell weakening," Dumbledore asked as Harry seemed to writhe in sudden pain.
"No, I think it's becoming stronger," Pomfrey said, her eyes wide.
A bruise began to form over Harry's right eye and cheekbone before he went completely still. Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey both stilled in surprise.
"Is he breathing," Madame Pomfrey asked as she reached for his wrist to check for a pulse.
Dumbledore reached out to feel for a any breath when he couldn't detect any movement of Harry's chest.
"No..." he moaned, quickly whipping out his wand and desperately beginning to wave it over Harry's still body.
Next Chapter: He Tries to Keep His Life
