Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters appearing in this story. I
am merely borrowing them for my writing pleasure and, hopefully, yours.
They all belong to the wonderful JK Rowling.
Notes: This is the first fic I've written in a very long time, so forgive me if it isn't that good. I did try my best, though.
in the darkness
I sat there, in the dark corner of the room. I could hear the pitter-patter of the cold rain against the window in this dark, cold night. I felt a surge of pain pass through me as I surveyed his face, Harry's face, filled with pain and angst as he held my body.
I tried to look at him, but I couldn't. It was too painful seeing him there, crying. Every time I would turn to look at him, he would still have his face buried in my neck, rocking back and forth, and gently sobbing, drowning himself in his tears. I turned to look at the others in the room, but none of them would look at me. They couldn't see me.
Both Ron and Hermione were just standing there, in the far area of the cold room. They were both leaning on the wall, their faces filled covered by the shadows as they looked down. I could clearly see a silver teardrop fall from Hermione's face. She sniffed and sobbed, and Ron did not even bother to place an arm around her. None of them made any effort at all to approach Harry, who sat in the middle of that room, endlessly sobbing and rocking me.
They made no effort to end the unending silence in the room. They dared not say anything. Except for Ron, who opened his mouth to speak as he looked up finally at Harry. But he closed it, and resumed staring at the floor.
He has also realized talking, or doing anything would not help lighten up the situation.
Nothing ever will.
Because it seemed this was Harry's greatest loss so far. It was too much, not only for Harry, but for both of them. It had broken Harry, and all they could do was watch him helplessly as he cried. They both knew that no assurance would ever make Harry feel alright. Not even the fact that he had defeated Voldemort.
And even I could not do anything to help Harry now. Nothing I say would ever make him feel better. Nothing I say would ever lift away that heavy pain and anguish he was carrying. No words could ever pull him out of that sea of agony. He wouldn't believe me, he wouldn't even hear me.
I found my own helplessness insufferable. I used to be the one he spoke to whenever he had a problem, used to be the one he would run to instead of Ron and Hermione. I used to be the only one he would ever cry to, and I was the only one who could ever make him stop. But now, all I could do was stand here, in my own grief and helplessness, and watch him hold me close and sob in my neck.
It was unbearable. To see him, the one I love, crying, and silently pleading for help. To see him, my life, desperately searching for me, for at least a small bit of enlightenment at this situation. To see the pain and grief wash over them again and again. And to know and accept there is nothing I could do.
I never knew that death, my death, could ever be this painful. I had only heard people speaking of grief and pain at the loss of a loved one, but I had reckoned it was an exaggeration. Now I could see that there was no exaggeration done, that everything was just as they said it was: painful, powerful, and overwhelming. What was more unexpected about this was that this was MY death. I never expected my death to cause Harry this much pain. I never thought he would break down just as he has.
I heard the door creak open, and Dumbledore came in. He slowly walked to Ron and Hermione, and seemed to give them a few words. Both nodded, and all three of them walked towards Harry.
Harry looked up as Dumbledore came to him, and I heard Dumbledore say "Harry, it's time."
Harry held my gorgeous matter closer, and firmly said, "No."
But Harry definitely had to let go of my body now. There was a Hall packed with students, waiting to acknowledge their Hero. I could hear their cheers, and their cries for Harry to appear. But Harry didn't seem to notice the voices. He just sat there, cradling my lifeless body firmly, glaring at Dumbledore like a hen shielding its chicks from a hungry wolf.
Dumbledore merely shook his head ruefully, and Professor Snape came into the room. Without hesitation, he kneeled down next to Harry and my body, and took hold of my arm. Harry immediately pushed him away reflexively, and cried out a determined "NO."
I shook my head. Why are you making it much more difficult than it already is, Harry? Just let go of me. So we can all move on.
"I want to move on, Harry!" I shouted, kneeling beside him. "Let me go! I want to move on!!"
But it didn't seem like he could hear me. He just buried his face in my body's chest and wept. Snape nodded to Dumbledore, and, with Ron and Hermione's help, they pried Harry's arms from me. Harry wouldn't let go, Ron and Hermione had to hold him back. Both students grabbed Harry's arms, as the Potions Master took my lifeless form away, hastily, since Harry was struggling to break free of Hermione and Ron's hold.
I followed Snape, who was carrying my body, out of the room. As I turned my back on Harry, he called out my name.
"Draco!"
I turned around, and saw him from behind Hermione and Ron. He was staring at me. He wasn't staring at the empty space I was standing on. He was staring at me. As if he could see me. As if I was real. I shook my head as logic fumbled its way into my mind. No, he can't see me. He CAN'T.
Snape had disappeared, and instead of the usual dark corridor, there was a tunnel, with blinding white light at the end. The light was calling me, beckoning me to come. I knew what was at the end. I knew that once I went, there would be no turning back. As I was about to walk closer and into the light.
"Draco."
His voice was gentle, yet demanding my attention. His call seemed softer, and without all hope. It was a whisper filled with all despair and angst which he felt. It was a cry, a desperate plea for me to stay.
I sighed and painfully watched the tunnel close. I knew that once it closed, it would never open for me again. It pained me to know it, but the mere idea of having to go on without Harry was indeed more painful. I turned back into the room. Harry was looking down on the ground now. He was still kneeling, but now crying on Hermione's shoulder. She was holding him, comforting him. He seemed to have given up on retrieving my body, and accepted the fact that he had been defeated by death. Ron was patting him on the back, feeling sorry for his best friend.
Dumbledore then helped him stand up, and this time, he did not refuse. He wiped his tears bravely and, along with his friends and the Headmaster, walked towards me.
I looked into Harry's emerald eyes through his round frames as he walked towards me. His eyes seemed void of all emotions. The brave eyes were now so alike to my father's blank and unexpressive ones. They were still swollen from the crying he had done, but he walked on as if nothing had happened.
"Harry." I smiled at him gently. The gap between us decreased with every gentle step. I anticipated his contact. His steps were certain, just as his eyes, as he stared into mine. I could hear myself nagging that Harry couldn't see me, but the certainty in his eyes and his steps told me the opposite. He could see me. And he would hold me soon.
But to my despair, Harry stepped right through me, and out of the room. A sudden wave of emptiness and pain washed through me as he passed, evidently not noticing me there. I hung my head in pain and despair, and waited for the tears to fall.
But the tears never came.
"There won't be any tears," said a familiar voice. I turned around to see the Bloody Baron staring at me intently. "There shall be no tears. From now on, you would have to bear the pain, never being able to cry."
I frowned. I had always thought differently. I had once been told that in death, all the pains would be gone, that all of the imperfection of human life would disappear.
"It would have been different if you had gone into the light," came the Baron's voice, as if he had read my thoughts. "What you did not chose was paradise."
"Anywhere without Harry is hell," I reply softly. "That place could never be paradise."
There was a brief pause. The Baron floated to the window. The rain had stopped and it was dawn. The gold and red rays raced into the sky to cast away the darkness and what remained of the sad, dark night.
"Now, you are sentenced to stay in this earth, to watch him as he ventures in the world of the living, as he searches for himself and for someone to take your place. You shall watch him grow old, and experience difficulties, and it shall pain you to not be able to comfort him. You shall only be able to guide him, secretly providing answers, and shan't be noticed or acknowledged. You shall stay on this earth, bound to this grave, even after he has gone to the other world. You are now bound to this world, to watch the one you love grow old and die, for all eternity, just as I have."
The Baron's eyes cast a faraway look as he stared out of the window. "If I had known that this would be the consequences of my actions, I never would have taken it, not even for him." He turned to me. "Soon, you will understand."
Loud cheers filled the room, drowning the silence. Harry had evidently reached the Great Hall, and the students were now cheering for him.
I nodded my goodbye to the Baron and walked out of the room. I had known that once I turned my back from the light, there would be no turning back, that once I chose to stay, I could never leave. But Harry meant so much to me: he had been my reason to live, and die. I had died trying to protect him from Voldemort, and I was willing to spend eternity in pain and longing for him. I was quite contented to wait and guide him in the darkness, if it meant being with him. Being with him meant everything to me, and it always will. Even after he passes away, I shall wait in the darkness, guiding those who shall be his descendants. And I shall be contented, just as I am now. I had given my word to protect him with my life, and to protect him at all costs. I intend to keep that promise, even in death. Even if it meant silently brooding over his frustrations, feeling his pain, and never being acknowledged. Yes, I shall wait, hoping somehow, someday, he will feel and see me in the darkness.
.:end:.
Notes: This is the first fic I've written in a very long time, so forgive me if it isn't that good. I did try my best, though.
in the darkness
I sat there, in the dark corner of the room. I could hear the pitter-patter of the cold rain against the window in this dark, cold night. I felt a surge of pain pass through me as I surveyed his face, Harry's face, filled with pain and angst as he held my body.
I tried to look at him, but I couldn't. It was too painful seeing him there, crying. Every time I would turn to look at him, he would still have his face buried in my neck, rocking back and forth, and gently sobbing, drowning himself in his tears. I turned to look at the others in the room, but none of them would look at me. They couldn't see me.
Both Ron and Hermione were just standing there, in the far area of the cold room. They were both leaning on the wall, their faces filled covered by the shadows as they looked down. I could clearly see a silver teardrop fall from Hermione's face. She sniffed and sobbed, and Ron did not even bother to place an arm around her. None of them made any effort at all to approach Harry, who sat in the middle of that room, endlessly sobbing and rocking me.
They made no effort to end the unending silence in the room. They dared not say anything. Except for Ron, who opened his mouth to speak as he looked up finally at Harry. But he closed it, and resumed staring at the floor.
He has also realized talking, or doing anything would not help lighten up the situation.
Nothing ever will.
Because it seemed this was Harry's greatest loss so far. It was too much, not only for Harry, but for both of them. It had broken Harry, and all they could do was watch him helplessly as he cried. They both knew that no assurance would ever make Harry feel alright. Not even the fact that he had defeated Voldemort.
And even I could not do anything to help Harry now. Nothing I say would ever make him feel better. Nothing I say would ever lift away that heavy pain and anguish he was carrying. No words could ever pull him out of that sea of agony. He wouldn't believe me, he wouldn't even hear me.
I found my own helplessness insufferable. I used to be the one he spoke to whenever he had a problem, used to be the one he would run to instead of Ron and Hermione. I used to be the only one he would ever cry to, and I was the only one who could ever make him stop. But now, all I could do was stand here, in my own grief and helplessness, and watch him hold me close and sob in my neck.
It was unbearable. To see him, the one I love, crying, and silently pleading for help. To see him, my life, desperately searching for me, for at least a small bit of enlightenment at this situation. To see the pain and grief wash over them again and again. And to know and accept there is nothing I could do.
I never knew that death, my death, could ever be this painful. I had only heard people speaking of grief and pain at the loss of a loved one, but I had reckoned it was an exaggeration. Now I could see that there was no exaggeration done, that everything was just as they said it was: painful, powerful, and overwhelming. What was more unexpected about this was that this was MY death. I never expected my death to cause Harry this much pain. I never thought he would break down just as he has.
I heard the door creak open, and Dumbledore came in. He slowly walked to Ron and Hermione, and seemed to give them a few words. Both nodded, and all three of them walked towards Harry.
Harry looked up as Dumbledore came to him, and I heard Dumbledore say "Harry, it's time."
Harry held my gorgeous matter closer, and firmly said, "No."
But Harry definitely had to let go of my body now. There was a Hall packed with students, waiting to acknowledge their Hero. I could hear their cheers, and their cries for Harry to appear. But Harry didn't seem to notice the voices. He just sat there, cradling my lifeless body firmly, glaring at Dumbledore like a hen shielding its chicks from a hungry wolf.
Dumbledore merely shook his head ruefully, and Professor Snape came into the room. Without hesitation, he kneeled down next to Harry and my body, and took hold of my arm. Harry immediately pushed him away reflexively, and cried out a determined "NO."
I shook my head. Why are you making it much more difficult than it already is, Harry? Just let go of me. So we can all move on.
"I want to move on, Harry!" I shouted, kneeling beside him. "Let me go! I want to move on!!"
But it didn't seem like he could hear me. He just buried his face in my body's chest and wept. Snape nodded to Dumbledore, and, with Ron and Hermione's help, they pried Harry's arms from me. Harry wouldn't let go, Ron and Hermione had to hold him back. Both students grabbed Harry's arms, as the Potions Master took my lifeless form away, hastily, since Harry was struggling to break free of Hermione and Ron's hold.
I followed Snape, who was carrying my body, out of the room. As I turned my back on Harry, he called out my name.
"Draco!"
I turned around, and saw him from behind Hermione and Ron. He was staring at me. He wasn't staring at the empty space I was standing on. He was staring at me. As if he could see me. As if I was real. I shook my head as logic fumbled its way into my mind. No, he can't see me. He CAN'T.
Snape had disappeared, and instead of the usual dark corridor, there was a tunnel, with blinding white light at the end. The light was calling me, beckoning me to come. I knew what was at the end. I knew that once I went, there would be no turning back. As I was about to walk closer and into the light.
"Draco."
His voice was gentle, yet demanding my attention. His call seemed softer, and without all hope. It was a whisper filled with all despair and angst which he felt. It was a cry, a desperate plea for me to stay.
I sighed and painfully watched the tunnel close. I knew that once it closed, it would never open for me again. It pained me to know it, but the mere idea of having to go on without Harry was indeed more painful. I turned back into the room. Harry was looking down on the ground now. He was still kneeling, but now crying on Hermione's shoulder. She was holding him, comforting him. He seemed to have given up on retrieving my body, and accepted the fact that he had been defeated by death. Ron was patting him on the back, feeling sorry for his best friend.
Dumbledore then helped him stand up, and this time, he did not refuse. He wiped his tears bravely and, along with his friends and the Headmaster, walked towards me.
I looked into Harry's emerald eyes through his round frames as he walked towards me. His eyes seemed void of all emotions. The brave eyes were now so alike to my father's blank and unexpressive ones. They were still swollen from the crying he had done, but he walked on as if nothing had happened.
"Harry." I smiled at him gently. The gap between us decreased with every gentle step. I anticipated his contact. His steps were certain, just as his eyes, as he stared into mine. I could hear myself nagging that Harry couldn't see me, but the certainty in his eyes and his steps told me the opposite. He could see me. And he would hold me soon.
But to my despair, Harry stepped right through me, and out of the room. A sudden wave of emptiness and pain washed through me as he passed, evidently not noticing me there. I hung my head in pain and despair, and waited for the tears to fall.
But the tears never came.
"There won't be any tears," said a familiar voice. I turned around to see the Bloody Baron staring at me intently. "There shall be no tears. From now on, you would have to bear the pain, never being able to cry."
I frowned. I had always thought differently. I had once been told that in death, all the pains would be gone, that all of the imperfection of human life would disappear.
"It would have been different if you had gone into the light," came the Baron's voice, as if he had read my thoughts. "What you did not chose was paradise."
"Anywhere without Harry is hell," I reply softly. "That place could never be paradise."
There was a brief pause. The Baron floated to the window. The rain had stopped and it was dawn. The gold and red rays raced into the sky to cast away the darkness and what remained of the sad, dark night.
"Now, you are sentenced to stay in this earth, to watch him as he ventures in the world of the living, as he searches for himself and for someone to take your place. You shall watch him grow old, and experience difficulties, and it shall pain you to not be able to comfort him. You shall only be able to guide him, secretly providing answers, and shan't be noticed or acknowledged. You shall stay on this earth, bound to this grave, even after he has gone to the other world. You are now bound to this world, to watch the one you love grow old and die, for all eternity, just as I have."
The Baron's eyes cast a faraway look as he stared out of the window. "If I had known that this would be the consequences of my actions, I never would have taken it, not even for him." He turned to me. "Soon, you will understand."
Loud cheers filled the room, drowning the silence. Harry had evidently reached the Great Hall, and the students were now cheering for him.
I nodded my goodbye to the Baron and walked out of the room. I had known that once I turned my back from the light, there would be no turning back, that once I chose to stay, I could never leave. But Harry meant so much to me: he had been my reason to live, and die. I had died trying to protect him from Voldemort, and I was willing to spend eternity in pain and longing for him. I was quite contented to wait and guide him in the darkness, if it meant being with him. Being with him meant everything to me, and it always will. Even after he passes away, I shall wait in the darkness, guiding those who shall be his descendants. And I shall be contented, just as I am now. I had given my word to protect him with my life, and to protect him at all costs. I intend to keep that promise, even in death. Even if it meant silently brooding over his frustrations, feeling his pain, and never being acknowledged. Yes, I shall wait, hoping somehow, someday, he will feel and see me in the darkness.
.:end:.