Chapter 9: HP

I am sucked into the memory.

-1940-

It feels like yesterday. Bullets ricocheting around me. I see a child in the distance. Fighting. He couldn't be more than six. But whenever someone tried to attack him, they dropped. Many were learning not to approach him.

So he learned to attack them instead. It was like he traveled through the shadows.

He had a yellow star on his shoulder though. One with a silver dot in it. He is important. To important to let escape.

But that's exactly what I did.

I approached him. I don't fire anything but a tranquilizer at him. It hits it's mark, but he was going out anyways. He was slowing down, his fight slowing. But he was going down fighting.

I left him on the ground. I knew I should bring him in. I couldn't. So I left him there, not knowing if he would die or live.

- 1943-

Three years had passed and I hadn't seen the boy since then. I hope he escaped. Thoughts like this, though, could get you killed.

I can see a form shivering just outside of the barracks. It's tucked away in the shadows, but as a trained soldier I can hear the gravel scratching against the ground in a different way than how a boot would crunch.

I walk over to the figure and see that he's clutching a note.

He looks different. But he is still the same little boy fighting for his life.

Picking him up, I feel how light he is. I place him on the doorstep and write on the note, ' Take care.'

For a year, I see him working with the others, still too skinny.

-1944-

Four years since I first saw him, he has grown up. He is no longer the innocent little boy who had seen death, he was a warrior, and for what I was about to do would save his life, but kill others.

I had retrieved the poor child from the barracks and walked through the gates. I commandeered a tank and drove near a base. Dropping off the tank a mile away, I walked until we reached the base.

I was led into a room, empty. The white walls covered with a white ceiling.

It was not quite empty, a notepad lay on a table bolted to the floor. A pen tied with string was laying next to it. I walked into the room, the boy following me. He was dead on his feet.

I wrote a quick note, explaining most things. I tied a strip of canvas around his arm.

This is a letter explaining why a Nazi would walk into here, willingly.

I will tell you most things. Not everything.

It all started in 1940. I was fighting. I do not doubt that in your eyes I am a villain or the "Bad guy."

I found him fighting, winning every one, but he was tiring. I shot him with a tranquilizer and left him. I was unsure if he was alive or dead.

I saw him three years later, he was in the shadows, nearly hidden. I placed him in a bunk and watched over him for a year.

Now he is around 11. He had seen war, he has seen pain.

He is 10. Spare him. Kill me but spare him.

For even if you dip me in the river Lethe,

The soul has scars it will never forget.

K.G.

I leave the room. Managing to leave the boy behind. "He will be in a safer place." my traitorous mind tells me.

I take a glance back only to see a man in black going in to get him.

As I turned back around, I faced two guns. The twin shots fired killed me instantly.

- FLASH BACK END-

In my next life, I still remembered the boy, he was my hope at the Dursleys. My first letter that Hedwig delivered was to him. I look over at his nightstand. He still has it.

I touch his arm and feel a cord of canvas, worn with time.

I stare down at Nico who had fallen asleep on my chest. Somehow. Somehow this little boy has lodged himself so deeply in my heart that I would do anything for him.

A girl comes in, spotting us she smiles and leaves us be.