Author's Note: Trigger warning for mentions of drug use, alcohol, sex, and panic attacks.
CHAPTER FIVE
Exuberant Death
Charlie Weasley lets out a jaw-cracking yawn, tears gathering at the corner of his eyes. He blinks sleepily and holds his wand closer to the parchment in his hand.
"Lumos," he mumbles, blinking rapidly to clear away the threat of sleep.
Five more towns in this region and he can go home for the night. He crosses off Bromley Village from the list and glances at the next one. From experience, he can tell that this town will be the same as all the others. Quaint. Quiet. And suspicious of strangers.
The second eldest Weasley sighs and rolls up the parchment, shoving it into his bag. A quick "Nox," sends him into complete darkness.
As he apparates into Aldeford, Charlie feels a deep chill in the spring air. He lands deftly and does small running jump on the spot, shaking out his limbs. He quickly starts down the road he's landed in, in case anyone decided to investigate the loud noise.
It doesn't take him long to spot a tavern. It's probably the only tavern in town as it's packed to the rafters with drunken locals. Quickening his steps, Charlie enters the establishment and lets out a relieved breath as the warmth envelops him. He sidesteps a brawl between two farmers and manages to reach the bar without much incident.
"What'll it be, 'andsome?" The woman behind the bar is portly and middle-aged, her round face pink and rather pretty. She gives him a wide smile and picks up a large glass.
Charlie waves a hand towards her and tries to offer her his best smile. "I trust in your taste. Why don't you surprise me?"
The woman chuckles and begins pouring him a pint of pale ale. "Spring ale it is for the 'andsome fella. Never seen you 'round 'ere before. Visitin' family?"
"Actually, I'm trying to look for someone. He's my friend – went missing about five years ago."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear tha'." She sets the frothy beer down before Charlie and wipes her hand on a cloth. "Go' a picture?"
Charlie pulls out a crinkled photo, making sure to give it a quick warning glance before revealing it to the woman. In the photo, Harry is frozen and smiling at the camera as he holds up a Christmas present. It was taken at the Burrow during the last Christmas they spent together. If one was to look closely, they might see a slight movement in the picture, but luckily, the bar keeper wasn't keenly eyed.
She peers at the photo and tilts her head to the side, thoughtful. "Hum. Looks kinda familiar. But I can't be too sure..."
Charlie raises his brows and leans in close. "Really? You've seen him? He might have arrived here five years ago. Can you think of anyone like that?"
"Lots of people arrived here five years ago, 'andsome."
"Yes, of course, but surely there's someone who might be this boy in the picture. He's also got a scar on his forehead, like a lightening bolt." The wizard pushes the photo closer to the woman, impatience seizing him like sudden fever.
The woman hums again and narrows her eyes at the photo. She taps Harry's face a couple of times as she thinks. "Yeah...migh' be him. Could be. Bu' he's so...well...shoddy lookin' now."
"Who?"
"Tha' Tom fella, livin' down at the B&B with Mrs. Aldeford. Why don' you take tha' photo over to her?"
Charlie frowns, leaning back on his heels. Tom? He clears his throat and tucks the photo away into his pocket. "I'll do that. Thank you for your help, ma'am."
"Oh, please. You can call me Liv." The woman gives him a coy smile and he feels a sudden burn in his cheeks. He coughs into his fist and grabs his drink, downs it in one go.
Gideon hadn't left his side all night, and it was starting to wear on Harry. He tried to lose him a few times in the crowd, but every time the man managed to slip back right next to him. Jobe was off dancing or fucking or getting high, so Harry was stuck with the older man.
He finds himself by the makeshift bar, nursing a bottle of beer, and reluctant to engage in the party any further.
"You seen where Jobe went?" he asks Gideon, raising his voice so he could be heard over the music.
"Nah. You good?" Gideon yells back, moving uncomfortably close to Harry. The man tugs at his beard anxiously, wide glassy eyes peering at Harry through the gloom.
He must have taken something, the raven thinks to himself as he tries to widen the gap between them. "I'm uh...just gonna go find Jobe. You stay here, okay?"
Two bony hands shoot out and grab Harry's arm in a steely grip. "I'll come with you!"
Frowning, the wizard shakes the muggle off and steps further out of his reach. "You're freaking me out, Gideon. Just...take it easy okay? Why don't you go find me some pot?"
"Nah, I wanna make sure you're okay-"
"Go get me some pot, Gideon," Harry insists, brows falling low. "It'll uh...help me out a lot."
That swayed the man, finally. Gideon hesitates then nods slowly. "Yeah...sure thing...Tom..." With that, he turns and barrels into the crowd, scattering the dismayed dancers like marbles.
Letting out a relieved sigh, Harry hastily makes his escape. He scans the crowd for Jobe, but it's too gloomy and there's too many moving bodies. "Goddammit Jobe."
The raven takes a step into the dancing crowd, when the music suddenly changes. It's more hard, fast, and the bass rattles his insides. And then, out of nowhere, bright neon green lights slice through the dark like knives, moving to the beat of the music.
Breath catches in Harry's throat as ice washes down his spine. His sight blurs, hearing dims, until all he sees is the green light. He thinks he's suffocating, that he's buried alive, when he realises that his breath is coming too fast and too hard. Sweat prickles his skin and world takes on a menacing glow. Worms, the writhing bodies have turned into worms, desperately trying to escape their inevitable death. There's Sirius, Remus, Cedric, Lily, James, Dumbledore, Moody, Tonks, Fred, Snape, and everyone, every single person that's ever died because of him, for him, by his own, bloody hands.
He doesn't stop running until he's outside, well clear of the party. Knees fall into grass as he hunches over, trying to catch his breath. It doesn't come and he feels tears prickling the corners of his eyes. No, no tears, not now!
"Are you alright, Harry?"
The raven barely registers the soft, airy voice above him. Nor does he notice the warm hand touching his back. He just focuses on trying to breathe, trying to combat the fear seizing his chest. There are soothing words in the shadows, telling him to count. Breathe in for four, hold for four, breathe out for four, hold for four, breathe in for four, hold for four, breathe out for four, hold for four, and so and on and on, until finally, finally, he's breathing normally.
Harry blinks as the world comes back to him and he kneels back on his heels. He wipes his face with the back of his hand and glances behind. "Thanks, that was really-" The last word catches in his throat.
"That's quite alright, Harry," Luna says, giving him a warm smile. "It's good to see you again."
She hasn't changed much since the last time he saw her. Luna still held the same, dreamy expression, and the same wispy blonde hair loosely held together in a braid. She's wearing what appears to be a flowing, silken robe, with an ugly football-like creature patterned onto the colourful fabric.
The blonde crouches down beside Harry and rests her arms and chin upon her knees. "I've never been to a party like this before. It's all so wonderful, don't you think?" She sighs, contently, and studies her old friend with a pleasant smile.
"L-Luna..." Harry's voice catches again and he clears his throat, feeling the tremour start up in his gut again. "Luna...how did you-how are you here?"
"Charlie found you," she says, honestly, digging a finger into the soil at her feet. "And I was sent along to have a chat. Did you know that everyone is trying to kill you?"
Harry blinks at the woman, still uncomprehending of the situation. "Yes. I'm...well aware."
"Don't worry. I don't want to kill you. This town is a true marvel! It's reported that there's a very low population of Blibbering Humdingers in this area, as well as little to no Nargle presence. I suppose it has to do something with the lack of magic folk in the region."
While unsure if he is hallucinating, Harry tries to tap Luna on the shoulder to draw her out of her ramble. "What did you want, Luna, if you're not here to...to kill me?"
Luna smiles and turns her bright eyes towards Harry, holding him hostage with their sleepy warmth. "Would you ever consider coming back and joining the Order again? We miss you. All of us do."
A sharp bitterness grips his heart and he averts his gaze. "I can't. Not now."
"Who says you can't?"
"Everyone. You know what they call me. How they see me. You know what I did. I can't just...I can't just come back and make it all right again." And I'm too afraid to, he adds silently.
Luna hums in understanding. "There are other ways of making things right. No-one can make you throw away your own life. But there is much good to be done, good that can't be done in a town like Aldeford."
Harry glances at her, brows tilted in uncertainty. "How much good can I do, if me living means everyone else dies?"
"That isn't true, Harry. There's always another way."
He draws back, eyes widening as if the thought hadn't occurred to him before. "And if they try to kill me?"
That dreamy smile grows. "I'm here to make sure that doesn't happen, Harry. If only you agree to come back with me."
Hesitation stays his reply. He considers her words, is almost swayed by them. Could it be possible? Is it possible? Another way...?
A green light brightens the darkness, dazzling him briefly. He wonders stupidly how strong the laser lights were to have reached the outside, but then he realises, with a growing sense of horror, that it isn't the laser lights, no, that's impossible, how could it be, there's only one thing it could be, one thing only, one thing that he's knows all too well, and he's too late, much too late to stop the inevitable.
Harry Potter closes his eyes as death gallops towards him, unstoppable, all powerful, and brilliant, exuberantly so.
