Disclaimer: I own none of the characters of this story except that girl
that I made up. You know the one I mean.
A/N: I have no idea why I put this chapter in. I just had a feeling I should put it in. I'm one to trust a feeling that I have. Enjoy. (
Chapter 4
So Ron explained the ritual, something really long and complicated. Harry's blood was to pour into a sacred goblet, while every one else said some really long spell, most probably in Latin (they always were) and Voldemort drank the blood. It sounded horrible, and though Harry didn't tell anyone, he was afraid. Bleeding to death was not the way he had wanted to go. So he reminded himself to carry a bottle of poison with him so that he can kill himself before that happened. Hopefully, and he prayed to god, that wouldn't have to happen.
Harry went outside, they had a garden. Well, it actually wasn't a garden. Just a couple of feet of grass, that badly needed cutting. But there he stood, watching a sparrow peacefully bathe itself in an old birdbath, wishing he could be as peaceful. He wasn't. The door opened and shut behind him, he didn't turn around. "Harry?" Snape asked. "Harry are you are right?"
Slowly, Harry shook his head. He felt Snape walk up to him. "Don't worry, it will be alright. We'll find a way to stop him."
"Don't think we will." Harry whispered, swallowing a horrible burning sensation in his throat that was also penetrating his eyes.
"What makes you think that?"
Harry turned to face him. "Voldemort always get what he wants. He kills to get it. He killed my mother to get to me. She died begging for mercy."
"Don't believe the lies that Voldemort spills. He was just trying to get you emotional."
Harry shook his head. "No, it was true. She did. Because I remember it." He looked into those pit-less black eyes. "That's what I remember- them dying. Dementor's gift to me. Every time I close my eyes, when there's silence, there never is for me. All I hear is her voice. Her screams and pleads for him not to harm me. And all I can feel is guilt, and I keep thinking. It's my fault."
Snape took Harry by the shoulders harshly, and looked determined onto Harry. "It is not your fault." He told Harry "Your mother loved you. Believe me, I know that. She loved you more than anything. And she still does. Wherever she is." Harry closed his eyes, and felt warm tears fall down his tears. And also Snapes' timid arms around him, holding him. Like a father. A way Harry never had been held before.
So he just stood there, not doing anything, softly crying to himself as again like a thousand times before since he was thirteen years old, his mothers' last words replayed inside his head.
~~x~~
Strange dreams haunted Harry that night. It started off as laughing, a baby laughing, then as the blackness faded, he realise the baby was him. Two people above him were fussing over him about something, they were unmistakably his parents. Then suddenly he stopped laughing, and went eerie quiet, thinking about something, sensing something wasn't right. He looked up at his father, stood up and wrapped his hands round his fathers' neck.
"What's wrong?" James Potter tried to ask in a cheery sort of way.
"Dada?" Harry pinned, as he started to cry, hanging on ever tighter as though he might loose him. "Dada."
"Harry, what's up?"
Then the house started to shake. "What the?" a woman said. Answered by three load knocks.
"Open up!" a horrible voice said from outside. Harry saw his fathers' eyes widen in utmost fear, standing up quickly. His wife following suit. Harry could feel James' heart beating at an unhealthy pace and his breathing rapidly, before the adrenaline began to set in.
His decision made, he gave Harry once lasted hug, gave him to his mother, and kissed her.
"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off-" He stumbled out of the room, almost falling over. The front door, blasted off of it's hinges, and splinters of wood went flying, an one almost hit Harry on the head. Then a horrible high-pitched laugh.
That was when she decided to run. Into the kitchen, where she stopped suddenly when the words "Avada Kevdavara" sounded, and a tear fell on Harry's cheek. It was as though Lily was frozen with fear, not moving a muscle except to hug Harry tighter. He slowly looked over his mother's shoulder, where he saw the most hideous thing, stepping over his fathers' body. He crouched down before the monster could see him. Lily put him on the kitchen table, and stood up to face it.
"Hello." It said almost pleasantly as though taking about the weather. "Could I have what I came for."
Lily stamped her foot down, to say that she wasn't going to move. "No" she said.
The monster sighed, and started to push her away.
"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"
"Stand aside you silly girl… stand aside, now…"
"Not Harry! Please no, take me, kill me instead. Not Harry! Please… have mercy… have mercy…"
Then Harry woke up in a cold sweat, almost screaming.
A/N: I have no idea why I put this chapter in. I just had a feeling I should put it in. I'm one to trust a feeling that I have. Enjoy. (
Chapter 4
So Ron explained the ritual, something really long and complicated. Harry's blood was to pour into a sacred goblet, while every one else said some really long spell, most probably in Latin (they always were) and Voldemort drank the blood. It sounded horrible, and though Harry didn't tell anyone, he was afraid. Bleeding to death was not the way he had wanted to go. So he reminded himself to carry a bottle of poison with him so that he can kill himself before that happened. Hopefully, and he prayed to god, that wouldn't have to happen.
Harry went outside, they had a garden. Well, it actually wasn't a garden. Just a couple of feet of grass, that badly needed cutting. But there he stood, watching a sparrow peacefully bathe itself in an old birdbath, wishing he could be as peaceful. He wasn't. The door opened and shut behind him, he didn't turn around. "Harry?" Snape asked. "Harry are you are right?"
Slowly, Harry shook his head. He felt Snape walk up to him. "Don't worry, it will be alright. We'll find a way to stop him."
"Don't think we will." Harry whispered, swallowing a horrible burning sensation in his throat that was also penetrating his eyes.
"What makes you think that?"
Harry turned to face him. "Voldemort always get what he wants. He kills to get it. He killed my mother to get to me. She died begging for mercy."
"Don't believe the lies that Voldemort spills. He was just trying to get you emotional."
Harry shook his head. "No, it was true. She did. Because I remember it." He looked into those pit-less black eyes. "That's what I remember- them dying. Dementor's gift to me. Every time I close my eyes, when there's silence, there never is for me. All I hear is her voice. Her screams and pleads for him not to harm me. And all I can feel is guilt, and I keep thinking. It's my fault."
Snape took Harry by the shoulders harshly, and looked determined onto Harry. "It is not your fault." He told Harry "Your mother loved you. Believe me, I know that. She loved you more than anything. And she still does. Wherever she is." Harry closed his eyes, and felt warm tears fall down his tears. And also Snapes' timid arms around him, holding him. Like a father. A way Harry never had been held before.
So he just stood there, not doing anything, softly crying to himself as again like a thousand times before since he was thirteen years old, his mothers' last words replayed inside his head.
~~x~~
Strange dreams haunted Harry that night. It started off as laughing, a baby laughing, then as the blackness faded, he realise the baby was him. Two people above him were fussing over him about something, they were unmistakably his parents. Then suddenly he stopped laughing, and went eerie quiet, thinking about something, sensing something wasn't right. He looked up at his father, stood up and wrapped his hands round his fathers' neck.
"What's wrong?" James Potter tried to ask in a cheery sort of way.
"Dada?" Harry pinned, as he started to cry, hanging on ever tighter as though he might loose him. "Dada."
"Harry, what's up?"
Then the house started to shake. "What the?" a woman said. Answered by three load knocks.
"Open up!" a horrible voice said from outside. Harry saw his fathers' eyes widen in utmost fear, standing up quickly. His wife following suit. Harry could feel James' heart beating at an unhealthy pace and his breathing rapidly, before the adrenaline began to set in.
His decision made, he gave Harry once lasted hug, gave him to his mother, and kissed her.
"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off-" He stumbled out of the room, almost falling over. The front door, blasted off of it's hinges, and splinters of wood went flying, an one almost hit Harry on the head. Then a horrible high-pitched laugh.
That was when she decided to run. Into the kitchen, where she stopped suddenly when the words "Avada Kevdavara" sounded, and a tear fell on Harry's cheek. It was as though Lily was frozen with fear, not moving a muscle except to hug Harry tighter. He slowly looked over his mother's shoulder, where he saw the most hideous thing, stepping over his fathers' body. He crouched down before the monster could see him. Lily put him on the kitchen table, and stood up to face it.
"Hello." It said almost pleasantly as though taking about the weather. "Could I have what I came for."
Lily stamped her foot down, to say that she wasn't going to move. "No" she said.
The monster sighed, and started to push her away.
"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"
"Stand aside you silly girl… stand aside, now…"
"Not Harry! Please no, take me, kill me instead. Not Harry! Please… have mercy… have mercy…"
Then Harry woke up in a cold sweat, almost screaming.