Xenith
"Look at my eyes, pierce my soul, tear me apart, make me whole, for I am fallen, standing firm in heart and soul."
~~~Unknown
Chapter Thirty-nine
Harry darted away from Hermione immediately after History of Magic, their last class of the day. Ignoring her yells of: "Harry! Where are you going?" and "Wait Harry! Talk to me!" as she ran down the corridor after him. Harry lost her though as he sped round the corner and ducked under a tapestry hiding a stairwell leading skyward. Running had never been Hermione's strong suit.
He knew he was out of her sight, knew she'd never catch him now, but he couldn't stop running. He wasn't running away from Hermione anymore, he was running from everything. Everything he was destined to do, everything he was born to conquer, everyone he was to lead . . . to destroy.
He couldn't do it. He wasn't strong enough. They'd chosen wrong.
Harry took a sharp left down the Charms corridor and smashed into a tiny first year Hufflepuff, knocking her down and spilling her books. He didn't even slow down, just leapt over her books, skidded a bit and tore through the crown that had gathered at the girl's fall. More than one head turned to watch him go and more than one voice muttering, "Was that Harry Potter?" and, "Probably fainted again and is fleeing the scene." It was almost enough to make him turn round and throw a punch. Almost.
He took another sharp left at the end of the corridor and found himself, in what he and Ron liked to refer to as, The Hall o' Moving Stairs and Pictures. And the staircase before him was doing just that. "Shite," he muttered before taking a deep breath and running head-on at the fast rotating stairwell.
He landed cat-like on the beaten marble.
//Up.// He thought to himself, realising, for the first time since he had begun his flight, where he was headed.
Harry's eyes darted up, catching sight of the highest staircase inching away from its base, moving closer and closer to the entrance to the East Towers. "This better work." Harry said aloud, throwing his wand hand into the air, the other stretched towards the marble below him. "Accio staircase!" He bellowed, knowing full well that there was no way the stairs would come hurling at him. Instead, Harry went flying towards the stairs. The fingers on his left hand tingled and numbed as the power of his spell projected him upwards towards the moving staircase.
He stopped though, the minute his fingers holding his wand brushed the cold marble and almost fell. His left hand flew over his head and wrapped his elbow round the banister post. He took his wand between his teeth and pulled himself up. The staircase shook as it re-secured itself with a violent shudder that almost tossed Harry overboard.
"Oh, no you don't," he growled through the holly clouding his mouth, jamming his foot into one of its many cracks and swinging his left leg over the banister. He clambered the rest of the way over the edge and landed with a soft thump on the ridged stairs. He got to his feet and peered over the edge before taking a deep breath and taking of again.
Five minutes later he was at the entrance to the old Astronomy Tower, the ancient door opening before him.
Harry took a deep breath and stepped out onto the equally ancient flagstone. What greeted him surprised him, to say the least.
"Hiya, Harry," Seamus greeted him, stepping out of the shadows behind his back. "What are you doing here?" A trail of smoke curled out from behind him and danced over his sandy blond hair.
"Seamus, what're you---are you smoking?" Harry asked incredulously.
"No, shouldn't you be getting to dinner?" Seamus said quickly, nodding at the closed door behind Harry.
"I'm not hungry," Harry replied just as quickly. "What are you doing up here? I thought no one knew about this except me and---" Harry couldn't believe he'd almost said Ron's name. He'd avoided speaking of Ron for nearly two weeks and he wasn't planning on starting now.
"I was looking round for someplace private and wound up here. Big match against Ravenclaw tomorrow, eh, Har'?"
"Yeah, big match," he'd forgotten about the match. "Seamus, I don't---"
"Ahhh---OUCH!" Seamus exclaimed suddenly, bringing his hand out from behind his back, dropping the burnt down butt of a cigarette and sucking in his fingertips.
"Seamus! What was that?" Harry took a step back from the Irishman.
"A cigarette butt," Seamus snapped, friendly demeanour gone.
"I knew you were smoking."
"Wow, aren't you a smart one."
"Why are you smoking, Seamus?"
"Stress," Seamus moved to the side of the tower and sat, legs dangling over the edge. "Anger, rebellion . . . but mostly relief."
Harry sat down next to him. "When did you start?"
Seamus snorted a laugh. "Two weeks ago, about. M'older brother sent'em to me, he took after me da---Muggle all the way."
"Do they work?" Harry asked tentatively.
"What?" Seamus looked over at him, a new cigarette dangling from his mouth.
"Are you still all stressed or . . . whatever?" Harry continued nervously, not sure what he was getting himself into but knowing he needed something and this was the first REAL thing he'd come across in two weeks.
"It helps . . ." Seamus said slowly, trying to work out what Harry was getting at. "It takes a little while, but then it helps. What, you want one?" Seamus offered Harry the package.
Harry's hand moved toward the package and he had the cigarette in his hand before his brain had a chance to figure out what the hell he was doing. "Thanks," he said dryly, rolling the tobacco tube over his fingers.
"You want a light?" Seamus held out a match box.
"Not yet."
"Not that you'd need one anyway."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I was upset but I still saw you stick your hand into the fire. Not burned like me now, are you?" Seamus cocked an eyebrow at him and showed him his burnt fingertips.
"Oh, yeah," Harry said with a scowl, putting the cigarette into his mouth and rolling his tongue over it, testing out how it tasted. It was awful. "This tastes terrible."
"I know," Seamus took a long drag off his own. "They're disgusting."
Harry ran his fingers down the length of the cigarette, igniting the end. Harry jumped, startled.
"That was a cool trick," Seamus said, watching with minimal amusement as Harry inhaled and nearly choked. "Here, I'm done for today," Seamus stood and tossed the package to Harry.
"Thanks," Harry coughed out.
"I'll keep these though," he shook the box of matches at him. "YOU won't be needing them, now, will you?" Harry shook his head, examining the smoking cigarette like a piece of art he couldn't fully comprehend.
Seamus turned to go back inside.
"Don't come back here again, Seamus," Harry said quietly, putting the cigarette to his lips. "Find someplace else."
"Yeah, no problem, mate," Seamus replied just as quietly, knowing exactly where Harry was coming from.
Harry flicked his cigarette butt over the edge of the tower and watched as the wind caught it and carried it into the forest. He let his head fall into his hands, as he so often did of late, and watched the day fade slowly away from him over the treetops of the Dark Forest.
---
Harry couldn't have said how long he sat there but his nose was cold and running as the moon rose full and glistening over the lake. The entrance of moonlight into the, currently, starless night provided Harry with enough light to be able to see a small troupe of people scatter out of the castle doors and onto the grounds. Harry sighed, he knew exactly what it was. A search party come looking for him.
He rubbed the back of his neck, //I really should go back. But I really don't want to.//
"Harry?" His thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice from the doorway behind him. He turned to find Ginny, her arms wrapped tightly round herself as she moved closer to him. Harry turned back to the forest.
"Go away, Ginny," She sat down beside him.
"You can talk to me, you know that."
"I came here to be alone."
"We were sent to look for you." Harry snorted in disgust. "You're not the only one hurting, Harry."
He didn't reply.
"I---I lost two of my brothers." His eyes darted to her for a moment before going back to the miniscule shadows scurrying over the grounds.
"Shouldn't you signal to them that you found me or something?"
"No, we can go when you're ready." Her teeth were chattering. "But you can't bottle up all of your emotions like this, it isn't healthy."
"Ha! You're one to talk. I've seen the junk you eat.
"And I've seen the junk you DON'T eat," She shot back.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"What have you eaten since that night?"
"I can't remember everything I've eaten in the past two weeks."
"Well, I can. You've had half a piece of toast and a bowl of soup."
"You're stalking me now?"
"I am not! I 'm worried about you."
"Well you needn't be. I'm . . ." he took a shuddering breath. "Fine."
"No, you're not."
"Well how am I supposed to be?!" He half-shouted, thankful they were so high up and his voice didn't carry to the search party below. "I lost my best friend." He could feel Ginny move closer to him, shivering against his side. "He's gone---dead for all I know! And it's all because of me. Me! And I don't even know why." It had begun to snow, soft flakes falling from the cloudless sky. Big, red snowflakes.
"He's not dead, Harry." He felt Ginny's hand slide over his and finally looked over at her---tears welling in his eyes. "They're not dead. They can't be."
"Go away, Ginny," Harry growled, ignoring the warm hand pressed against his own. "You're better off without me." It was Ginny's turn to be speechless. "Go away!" He shouted, turning on her, rage pouring from his emerald orbs.
"You can't scare me, Harry." Her barely constrained tears imperceptible in her voice.
"I don't want to," he said softly, turning away.
"Harry . . ." Ginny twined her fingers with his.
"Why do you like me, Ginny?" He asked suddenly.
"What?"
"Why do you---everyone, really . . . like me so much? I've never really done anything."
"She thought a moment before answering. "If you want to know why people like you, it's because your survival prevented, at least for a while, the survival of You-Know-Who. You ended his reign of terror just by being there. The Gryffindors like you because you win them matches, and even if you don't like it or mean it, you bring them fame by association. Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws like you because you've managed to humiliate the Slytherins on more than one occasion. But if you want to know why _I_ like you, Harry, it's because of all those things and none of them at all. Those are all the things that make you who you are, Harry. You wouldn't be you without them." She squeezed his hand.
He squeezed back.
"Now, let me ask you something."
"All right."
"Is this your doing?" She held out her hand and caught one of the giant, crimson snowflakes.
Harry nodded
---
¸..· ´¨¨)) -:¦:-
¸.·´ ·´¨¨))
((¸¸.·´ ..·´ -:¦:- tbc -:¦:-
-:¦:- ((¸¸.·´*
"Look at my eyes, pierce my soul, tear me apart, make me whole, for I am fallen, standing firm in heart and soul."
~~~Unknown
Chapter Thirty-nine
Harry darted away from Hermione immediately after History of Magic, their last class of the day. Ignoring her yells of: "Harry! Where are you going?" and "Wait Harry! Talk to me!" as she ran down the corridor after him. Harry lost her though as he sped round the corner and ducked under a tapestry hiding a stairwell leading skyward. Running had never been Hermione's strong suit.
He knew he was out of her sight, knew she'd never catch him now, but he couldn't stop running. He wasn't running away from Hermione anymore, he was running from everything. Everything he was destined to do, everything he was born to conquer, everyone he was to lead . . . to destroy.
He couldn't do it. He wasn't strong enough. They'd chosen wrong.
Harry took a sharp left down the Charms corridor and smashed into a tiny first year Hufflepuff, knocking her down and spilling her books. He didn't even slow down, just leapt over her books, skidded a bit and tore through the crown that had gathered at the girl's fall. More than one head turned to watch him go and more than one voice muttering, "Was that Harry Potter?" and, "Probably fainted again and is fleeing the scene." It was almost enough to make him turn round and throw a punch. Almost.
He took another sharp left at the end of the corridor and found himself, in what he and Ron liked to refer to as, The Hall o' Moving Stairs and Pictures. And the staircase before him was doing just that. "Shite," he muttered before taking a deep breath and running head-on at the fast rotating stairwell.
He landed cat-like on the beaten marble.
//Up.// He thought to himself, realising, for the first time since he had begun his flight, where he was headed.
Harry's eyes darted up, catching sight of the highest staircase inching away from its base, moving closer and closer to the entrance to the East Towers. "This better work." Harry said aloud, throwing his wand hand into the air, the other stretched towards the marble below him. "Accio staircase!" He bellowed, knowing full well that there was no way the stairs would come hurling at him. Instead, Harry went flying towards the stairs. The fingers on his left hand tingled and numbed as the power of his spell projected him upwards towards the moving staircase.
He stopped though, the minute his fingers holding his wand brushed the cold marble and almost fell. His left hand flew over his head and wrapped his elbow round the banister post. He took his wand between his teeth and pulled himself up. The staircase shook as it re-secured itself with a violent shudder that almost tossed Harry overboard.
"Oh, no you don't," he growled through the holly clouding his mouth, jamming his foot into one of its many cracks and swinging his left leg over the banister. He clambered the rest of the way over the edge and landed with a soft thump on the ridged stairs. He got to his feet and peered over the edge before taking a deep breath and taking of again.
Five minutes later he was at the entrance to the old Astronomy Tower, the ancient door opening before him.
Harry took a deep breath and stepped out onto the equally ancient flagstone. What greeted him surprised him, to say the least.
"Hiya, Harry," Seamus greeted him, stepping out of the shadows behind his back. "What are you doing here?" A trail of smoke curled out from behind him and danced over his sandy blond hair.
"Seamus, what're you---are you smoking?" Harry asked incredulously.
"No, shouldn't you be getting to dinner?" Seamus said quickly, nodding at the closed door behind Harry.
"I'm not hungry," Harry replied just as quickly. "What are you doing up here? I thought no one knew about this except me and---" Harry couldn't believe he'd almost said Ron's name. He'd avoided speaking of Ron for nearly two weeks and he wasn't planning on starting now.
"I was looking round for someplace private and wound up here. Big match against Ravenclaw tomorrow, eh, Har'?"
"Yeah, big match," he'd forgotten about the match. "Seamus, I don't---"
"Ahhh---OUCH!" Seamus exclaimed suddenly, bringing his hand out from behind his back, dropping the burnt down butt of a cigarette and sucking in his fingertips.
"Seamus! What was that?" Harry took a step back from the Irishman.
"A cigarette butt," Seamus snapped, friendly demeanour gone.
"I knew you were smoking."
"Wow, aren't you a smart one."
"Why are you smoking, Seamus?"
"Stress," Seamus moved to the side of the tower and sat, legs dangling over the edge. "Anger, rebellion . . . but mostly relief."
Harry sat down next to him. "When did you start?"
Seamus snorted a laugh. "Two weeks ago, about. M'older brother sent'em to me, he took after me da---Muggle all the way."
"Do they work?" Harry asked tentatively.
"What?" Seamus looked over at him, a new cigarette dangling from his mouth.
"Are you still all stressed or . . . whatever?" Harry continued nervously, not sure what he was getting himself into but knowing he needed something and this was the first REAL thing he'd come across in two weeks.
"It helps . . ." Seamus said slowly, trying to work out what Harry was getting at. "It takes a little while, but then it helps. What, you want one?" Seamus offered Harry the package.
Harry's hand moved toward the package and he had the cigarette in his hand before his brain had a chance to figure out what the hell he was doing. "Thanks," he said dryly, rolling the tobacco tube over his fingers.
"You want a light?" Seamus held out a match box.
"Not yet."
"Not that you'd need one anyway."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I was upset but I still saw you stick your hand into the fire. Not burned like me now, are you?" Seamus cocked an eyebrow at him and showed him his burnt fingertips.
"Oh, yeah," Harry said with a scowl, putting the cigarette into his mouth and rolling his tongue over it, testing out how it tasted. It was awful. "This tastes terrible."
"I know," Seamus took a long drag off his own. "They're disgusting."
Harry ran his fingers down the length of the cigarette, igniting the end. Harry jumped, startled.
"That was a cool trick," Seamus said, watching with minimal amusement as Harry inhaled and nearly choked. "Here, I'm done for today," Seamus stood and tossed the package to Harry.
"Thanks," Harry coughed out.
"I'll keep these though," he shook the box of matches at him. "YOU won't be needing them, now, will you?" Harry shook his head, examining the smoking cigarette like a piece of art he couldn't fully comprehend.
Seamus turned to go back inside.
"Don't come back here again, Seamus," Harry said quietly, putting the cigarette to his lips. "Find someplace else."
"Yeah, no problem, mate," Seamus replied just as quietly, knowing exactly where Harry was coming from.
Harry flicked his cigarette butt over the edge of the tower and watched as the wind caught it and carried it into the forest. He let his head fall into his hands, as he so often did of late, and watched the day fade slowly away from him over the treetops of the Dark Forest.
---
Harry couldn't have said how long he sat there but his nose was cold and running as the moon rose full and glistening over the lake. The entrance of moonlight into the, currently, starless night provided Harry with enough light to be able to see a small troupe of people scatter out of the castle doors and onto the grounds. Harry sighed, he knew exactly what it was. A search party come looking for him.
He rubbed the back of his neck, //I really should go back. But I really don't want to.//
"Harry?" His thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice from the doorway behind him. He turned to find Ginny, her arms wrapped tightly round herself as she moved closer to him. Harry turned back to the forest.
"Go away, Ginny," She sat down beside him.
"You can talk to me, you know that."
"I came here to be alone."
"We were sent to look for you." Harry snorted in disgust. "You're not the only one hurting, Harry."
He didn't reply.
"I---I lost two of my brothers." His eyes darted to her for a moment before going back to the miniscule shadows scurrying over the grounds.
"Shouldn't you signal to them that you found me or something?"
"No, we can go when you're ready." Her teeth were chattering. "But you can't bottle up all of your emotions like this, it isn't healthy."
"Ha! You're one to talk. I've seen the junk you eat.
"And I've seen the junk you DON'T eat," She shot back.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"What have you eaten since that night?"
"I can't remember everything I've eaten in the past two weeks."
"Well, I can. You've had half a piece of toast and a bowl of soup."
"You're stalking me now?"
"I am not! I 'm worried about you."
"Well you needn't be. I'm . . ." he took a shuddering breath. "Fine."
"No, you're not."
"Well how am I supposed to be?!" He half-shouted, thankful they were so high up and his voice didn't carry to the search party below. "I lost my best friend." He could feel Ginny move closer to him, shivering against his side. "He's gone---dead for all I know! And it's all because of me. Me! And I don't even know why." It had begun to snow, soft flakes falling from the cloudless sky. Big, red snowflakes.
"He's not dead, Harry." He felt Ginny's hand slide over his and finally looked over at her---tears welling in his eyes. "They're not dead. They can't be."
"Go away, Ginny," Harry growled, ignoring the warm hand pressed against his own. "You're better off without me." It was Ginny's turn to be speechless. "Go away!" He shouted, turning on her, rage pouring from his emerald orbs.
"You can't scare me, Harry." Her barely constrained tears imperceptible in her voice.
"I don't want to," he said softly, turning away.
"Harry . . ." Ginny twined her fingers with his.
"Why do you like me, Ginny?" He asked suddenly.
"What?"
"Why do you---everyone, really . . . like me so much? I've never really done anything."
"She thought a moment before answering. "If you want to know why people like you, it's because your survival prevented, at least for a while, the survival of You-Know-Who. You ended his reign of terror just by being there. The Gryffindors like you because you win them matches, and even if you don't like it or mean it, you bring them fame by association. Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws like you because you've managed to humiliate the Slytherins on more than one occasion. But if you want to know why _I_ like you, Harry, it's because of all those things and none of them at all. Those are all the things that make you who you are, Harry. You wouldn't be you without them." She squeezed his hand.
He squeezed back.
"Now, let me ask you something."
"All right."
"Is this your doing?" She held out her hand and caught one of the giant, crimson snowflakes.
Harry nodded
---
¸..· ´¨¨)) -:¦:-
¸.·´ ·´¨¨))
((¸¸.·´ ..·´ -:¦:- tbc -:¦:-
-:¦:- ((¸¸.·´*