Chapter Fourteen: Sins of The Fathers
After that, everything seemed to go in slow motion. McGonagall slowly opened the door and Harry couldn't bear to look at what he knew he was going to see. Instead, he turned to Ron and Hermione for support, but their eyes were on the one thing Harry never wanted to see.
The emotion shown in their faces would forever be etched in Harry's mind. Ron looked as though someone had stabbed him in the back with a sharp knife. His eyes were glazed over in painful surprise and his mouth was trying to form words that would never come. Hermione gasped and held the wall to make sure she wouldn't fall. Her knees became weak and she slid to the floor.
The bloodcurdling scream still rang in his ears like a loud and mournful knell at a funeral. Harry closed his eyes shut. He didn't want to see. As long as he didn't see it, it wasn't there. It hadn't happened. He was still dreaming; he had to be still dreaming. That was the only explanation: he had to be asleep. He felt Ron's hand on his shoulder.
"Harry…" he murmured. At that moment, Harry knew. He had to open his eyes. He had to see. No one lives forever.
Harry opened his eyes only to see red. Blood was everywhere. There was a crimson curtain over his eyes. He saw her, through the livid crimson, he saw her lying there on the hospital bed. He shook his head and the colored veil was lifted. Now, the true colors were laid out before him.
"Jasna…" he whispered as he saw the girl lying on the hospital bed. Though Jasna herself seemed as clean and peaceful as if she were sleeping, the sheets were stained with a thick red liquid. Blood. Her blood. Harry shivered. But he didn't believe.
Harry took a step forward and walked over to her. He stroked her hair affectionately with one hand. He grasped her hand firmly in his other.
"Hey, girl," he breathed, softly. She didn't move. "How are you doing?"
"She's not going to wake up, Harry." Harry hadn't noticed that Dumbledore was standing beside Jasna's bed. He was looking down at Jasna; Harry couldn't see his face. Harry looked down at his beloved sadly.
"I know," he whispered. He wouldn't stop stroking her silky hair. He felt a kind hand on his shoulder and looked up to see a young man with bright red hair. He hadn't noticed that his friends had come in after him. To his left, he saw Hermione, her legs wobbling. Ron still had a glazed look to his eye.
"She looks just like she's sleeping…" Ron muttered.
"We healed the wounds so you wouldn't have to see them," said McGonagall from behind them.
"What… How did this happen?" asked Harry. He only hoped his dream wasn't true.
"A knife," said Dumbledore.
"A knife… no. Into her chest?" Harry felt the familiar sense of apprehension rising in him like a rush of cold waters.
"Yes."
"Self inflicted?" There was a pause.
"Yes." He finally answered.
"Oh god…" Harry felt weak all of a sudden. Then, he realized something.
"Her wand!" Hermione voiced what Harry was thinking. "Why didn't she use her wand?"
"Why a knife?" Ron added. They both looked at Dumbledore. Harry's eyes were glued to Jasna. He felt as if the moment he stopped looking at her, the moment he stopped stroking her hair, the moment he stopped holding her hand, it would be final. He'd never be able to do it again. He'd never be able to look at her again or stroke her hair again or hold her hand. He'd let her go forever.
Dumbledore was not answering their question. Neither was McGonagall or Madam Pomfrey.
"Her wand…" Harry whispered, still looking at his lost love. "Look at her wand. She didn't want to use if because she'd lose the spell."
"What?" Ron asked. Harry understood now. She had done something with her wand before she killed herself. It had glowed. What had she done?
Dumbledore seemed to be following Harry's train of thought as he picked up Jasna's wand off the floor where she had dropped it. He took out his own.
"Prior incantatum!" said Dumbledore, evenly. The wand flew up into the air and pointed at a vacant wall. It was glowing brightly again with a warm golden light. Harry looked away from his girlfriend's body as Jasna's voice echoed in the room.
"In life and death, In Essence bind, Let those who know, Have piece of mind."
"Of course…" Harry heard Dumbledore mutter. Before Harry could ask what Dumbledore was thinking, light shot out of the end of Jasna's wand and began to build something… a figure. A figure of a young woman with long raven hair and jade eyes…
Harry dropped Jasna's hand in shock. It was her, it was her! His friends seemed to be just as surprised as he was as Harry felt Ron's grip tighten on his shoulder. He noticed Hermione seize his hand.
The image of the young girl looked at her feet and then straight into Harry's eyes. She was wearing the same clothing the corpse on the bed wore: coal black robes. Except the image's clothing was completely black and had no traces of dark red.
"You must think me selfish. Or a coward. Or
both. Because of what I'm about to
do. Because of what I did."
"Jasna!" Harry cried. He knew that
voice; he knew those eyes. He made a
move to run to her but Dumbledore held out his arm, stopping him.
"It's a hologram, Harry," he whispered. "She's left us a message."
"It's OK though," the hologram continued with a smile. "Because maybe I am. I don't know really what I am. All I know is I can't stay here. I have to go. I did it for you, Harry.
"Professor Dumbledore, there was a time a few weeks ago when I told you about my encounter with Death. I told you He gave me a choice. You told me that I chose to stay. I never told you the answer. I was dead before you found me.
"Harry…" at this, the ghost-like image gave a sad sigh. "Oh, Harry! I never wanted to hurt you, never! Though you must be going through hell right now. I'm so sorry. I didn't want to go. I didn't want to leave you. But I had to. For everyone's sake. If I'd stayed, you'd have gone through more torture. I would have gone insane and I would have dragged you down with me. We'd be two easy targets for my father and then we'd both be dead. This whole school could be in danger. Even with Dumbledore. I survived the wrath of Lord Voldemort. I held on for you, Harry, and I never gave in. He wanted me to help him but I would never. He nearly killed me. He did kill me. Some father, eh?" The apparition gave a small sad laugh. Then it looked up straight into Harry's eyes again.
"I love you, Harry Potter. I always will. I can only hope you won't hate me for the pain I put you through. I had to die, to save the world. To save the only thing I ever loved. To save you. I love you, Harry. Never forget me. Don't shed too many tears over me. Find a solution.
"Ron." Ron straightened up as if a drill sergeant had called his name. "Ron. You have to stand tall, be brave for your friends. Be there for him, like you always are, like you always were. You're a great friend, Ron Weasley. Always there for your friends when they needed you even if something's tearing you up inside." Harry and Hermione looked at Ron, strangely for a moment, but he was still looking at Jasna's ghost. "You're a great friend. Harry needs you, Ron. Be there for him. Please.
"Hermione, you have good logic, don't you?" Hermione looked up and nodded slowly, as if speaking with a real person. The specter continued with the hint of a grin "Of course you do. What's Hermione Granger without her brilliant grades? You have great logic. You're a smart girl. And I don't just mean you get A's on your exams. You've been holding out on us…" Hermione blushed slightly as Harry and Ron gave her a slightly confused look. "You keep your head when everyone else if panicking. You'll need that. You'll need your brain. It's a powerful asset and will help you later in the future. Help them find a solution.
"Do something. Find a solution, all of you. He must be stopped. How many people will be made to suffer before Fudge finally will realize what's going on? You have to do SOMETHING!
"My parting must have been something as a shock to you all. But as I already said, I was dead when you found me. My choice, Professor Dumbledore, was not just to live or die." Dumbledore nodded.
"Of course it wasn't…" he muttered. "The consequences."
"You may have figured out by now that it wasn't as simple as that," the specter continued. "Harry's love for me could save me. But my father's hate could destroy me. In death, my father has nothing to destroy. But Harry has everything to love still. And I would be at peace. I hope anyway. In life, things would have been terrible. Voldemort would have tried again and again to destroy me and Harry and eventually would succeed. Life would be unbearable. There is no point for delaying the inevitable. Choice was irrelevant. We all have to die."
"Not like that…" Harry murmured.
"I hope you find happiness, Harry. With another girl, with your friends, without Voldemort. Without me. Someone who won't drag you down with her problems is what you need. Someone who's there for you, who understands you. I will always love you, Harry. Even in death, I will continue to love you. And I know you will always love me. Always and forever.
"You are the Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter. You always will be. And you better keep it that way. I don't want to see you share my fate. You are the Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter, and I am the Girl Who Died."
There was silence as the image disappeared and the wand fell to the ground. Jasna's last words echoed in Harry's ears.
You are the Boy Who Lived and I am the Girl Who Died.
He finally understood what she meant when she had spoken to him the day before.
"She didn't want to go," he muttered, looking at the corpse of his soul mate. The tears began to form in his eyes as he tried to keep the sorrow from his voice. "She didn't… She didn't want to go…" He tried to swallow is misery by gulping the huge lump that was beginning to form in his throat. He felt a kind arm around him. It squeezed his shoulders reassuringly.
"Make her proud, Harry," the familiar friendly voice of his best friend said. His tone was solacing and full of support. Harry realized then just how good Ron had become at disguising his own feelings. "I'm behind you every step of the way."
Harry looked Ron straight in the eye, his face completely devoid of expression.
"Thanks, Ron," he said sincerely. "I never told you… That really means a lot to me. All you do for me… Thanks, Ron." Harry was trying to say two things at once. Ron smiled weakly. He got the message.
Harry looked over his shoulder at Hermione, who was sitting in a chair close by watching the two. She gave him a kind smile that appeared to be slightly forced. She knew better than to disturb them. Ron and Harry were sharing a moment and she didn't want to interrupt that. She looked sadly at Jasna, lying still on the hospital bed. She had grown to like Jasna and had felt extremely guilty about her prejudices. She never had the chance to tell her how sorry she had been about judging her. As she heaved a sigh, she noticed Harry was still looking at her.
"Come here, Hermione."
"I don't want to be a bother."
"Well, you can't help it any other time and you want to try now?" said Ron with
a slight smile. Hermione returned the
gesture.
"Hermione, what's complete without you?" Harry asked, holding out his arm. Hermione's smile grew as she stood up and allowed Harry to amiably put his arm around her. Whatever was going to happen, they'd get through it together.
