Thanks to the people who reviewed! Usually my fics don't get reviewed that
quickly!
iluvchester - I urge you to read the story.
Miss Lesley - I agree completely!
Disclaimer: You know.
'' = Harry's thoughts/social commentary.
METEORA by AnonymousBystander
------------------
Chapter 2 - Don't Stay
------------------
Sometimes I need to remember just to breathe sometimes I need you to stay away from me Sometimes I'm in disbelief I didn't know Somehow I need you to go.
--
Lights. Bright light, blinding him. Harry's eyes cracked open for a moment. White, harsh light flooded in. His head exploded in flashes of color, red, orange, yellow, pounding into his skill. He snapped his eyes shut and rolled over onto his stomach. He was on a bed. Inhaling, he smelled the antiseptic sheets of Hogwarts' hospital wing.
'Oh, fuck.'
Slowly, very slowly, he turned back onto his back and opened them again, very slowly, allowing them to adjust to the impossible light. He started to sit up, causing yet another colorful ripping sensation through his brain, but he ignored the pain, finally restinghis head against the headboard and allowing himself to think.
What had happened? Why did he end up here? He looked down at his hands. The knuckles were red and bruised, but they looked intact and not dangerously hurt. So why was his head pounding? Why were spots flashing before his eyes? Before he could even ponder the question, there was a muffled shriek which made his head pound even worse.
"Harry!" Hermione called, rushing over to him.
'Oh God, here it comes,' thought Harry.
"Harry, we were so worried about you!"
"Yeah, mate, you gave us quite a scare."
"What happened?" Harry said, trying to shut his friends up for one second.
Madame Pomphrey rushed into the room.
'Finally, for fuck's sake,' Harry's brain shouted, 'my salvation!'
"Mr. Potter, so good to see you awake!"
'Or, maybe not.'
"Your knuckles were broken, Mr. Potter," Pomphrey explained. "Very complex bones, the knuckles. Can't make any mistakes, or the results could be very unfortunate."
'Great, thanks very much, bitch.'
"As to the pounding that I'm sure you're experiencing in your head..."
'Finally.'
"...it's the result of a panic attack. Mr. Potter, I believe that you may be suffering from chronic depression which led to an attack on your body."
'Oh, fucking great.'
Pomphrey reached down and held up wooden box. Harry looked inside. It contained about thirty identical vials of a fizzing, pink potion. Harry nearly gagged right then and there.
"If you just take one of these potions each morning, I'm sure you'll be fine."
'Brilliant. Just brilliant.'
"So," Harry said, not caring about politeness anymore, "you've invented a potion that can bring my parents and Sirius Black from the dead and then kill Voldemort, the most powerful fucking wizard in the world? Brilliant, Madame Pomphrey, let me have it!"
He snatched at the box. Madame Pomphrey, Hermione, and Ron were speechless. Harry grabbed one of the bottles inside and uncorked it, draining the contents into his mouth. He'd barely swallowed it when he was uncorking the next one, and draining that one. After five or six bottles of the disgustingly pink potion, Madame Pomphrey finally had the sense to grab the box of potion from Harry.
"Mr. Potter-"
"Where are they?! I don't see them! Hey, Mom, Dad, Sirius, are you there?! ARE YOU FUCKING THERE!?"
The room started to rotate swiftly around Harry. He slumped against his pillows, unable to move.
"ARE YOU FUCKING THERE?!!"
Darkness enveloped him.
---
Sometimes I feel like a trusted you too well Sometimes I just feel like screaming at myself sometimes I in disbelief I didn't know somehow I need to be alone
--
'Waking up,' thought Harry, 'fucking sucks.'
For the second time that day (come to think of it, he wasn't even sure if it was the same day), Harry awoke with a head that seemed to be torn into pieces, and it wasn't pain from his scar.
And this time, it wasn't only his head that ached. His whole body was searing with fire that wouldn't be quenched. It rang through his whole body. There was pain in places Harry didn't even know he had. He didn't even bother trying to get up. However, the moment he opened his eyes, a shrill whistle began. Mercifully it was night outside, so he wasn't blinded again.
Unmercifully, Madame Pomphrey and Albus Dumbledore entered the room a moment later, and the whistling sound halted.
Dumbledore sat down next to Harry's bed. Pomphrey remained standing, surveying Harrry shrewdly with one eye.
"Harry, what you did yesterday was very, very foolish," began Dumbledore solemnly. Harry wanted to come up with some rude and daring remark just to annoy the wizened Headmaster, but under Dumbledore's calculating gaze, nothing came to his mind.
"What - what happened," he managed feebly, inwardly cursing himself for making him seem so weak in front of his headmaster.
Dumbledore looked up to Pomphrey, who said, "Mr. Potter, that potion was a muscle relaxant and anti-depressant. The dose you took was in such excess of the recommendeded that your muscles started to break down, and your heart very nearly stopped. Luckily, I had some of the antidote in my office. But if I hadn't..." She trailed off, leaving Harry feeling very guilty.
"Harry," said Dumbledore softly, redirecting his attention, "I'll say it again. What you did today was very foolish. Luckily, you cannot die, because the prophecy states that either you will be killed by Lord Voldemort, or you will kill him. However, I don't want to be taking any chances, Mr. Potter. I'm going to tell you this right now, because I want to be perfectly honest. After you leave the hospital wing tomorrow, you will be under heavy watch by the staff and certain students. We can't have any ... accidents. Do you understand, Harry?"
'This is so unfair!' Harry's mind screamed, but he just deafly nodded and turned away, closing his eyes. He heard Dumbledore's and Pomphrey's footsteps retreating, then opened his eyes again...
---
Don't stay forget our memories forget our possibilities what you were changing me into [just give me myself back and] don't stay forget our memories forget our possibilities take all your faithlessness with you [just give me myself back and] don't stay
--
As soon as Harry was sure that Dumbledore and Pomphrey were truly gone, Harry slipped out of bed, quiet as a shadow. He was going to put a stop to all of this: right here, right now, he was going leave and never come back. He couldn't handle it - the pain, the pressure, the sadness, the numbness.
He padded through the hallways. Even with his invisibility cloak and the Maurader's Map, he was still and expert at navigating the halls of Hogwarts late at night without getting caught. Left, right, right, through a secret door behind a tapestry, upstairs, left. He twisted his way till he found his way to the fat lady's portrait. Without giving her time to question, he muttered the password and was inside.
The commonroom was dark and empty. The embers of a dying fire just barely glowed in the hearth. Harry tiptoed across the room and crept upstairs, silent as a mouse. Inside his dormitory, he pulled out his invisibility cloak, his wand, and the Marauder's Map. It would be useless outside of Hogwarts, he knew, but he took it anyway.
He grabbed his Firebolt and left the dormitory for the last time ever.
Making his way back down was much easier than going up now that he had the cloak and the map. Soon, oh so soon, he was at the entrance hall, and then out, out onto the cool lawns.
Don't stay, shouted the castle behind him, don't stay.
Harry mounted his firebolt and kicked off, soaring away. Soon the castle was going, going, gone.....
------
A/N - If you think I should continue, the next chapter is 'Easier to Run'. Please review!
iluvchester - I urge you to read the story.
Miss Lesley - I agree completely!
Disclaimer: You know.
'' = Harry's thoughts/social commentary.
METEORA by AnonymousBystander
------------------
Chapter 2 - Don't Stay
------------------
Sometimes I need to remember just to breathe sometimes I need you to stay away from me Sometimes I'm in disbelief I didn't know Somehow I need you to go.
--
Lights. Bright light, blinding him. Harry's eyes cracked open for a moment. White, harsh light flooded in. His head exploded in flashes of color, red, orange, yellow, pounding into his skill. He snapped his eyes shut and rolled over onto his stomach. He was on a bed. Inhaling, he smelled the antiseptic sheets of Hogwarts' hospital wing.
'Oh, fuck.'
Slowly, very slowly, he turned back onto his back and opened them again, very slowly, allowing them to adjust to the impossible light. He started to sit up, causing yet another colorful ripping sensation through his brain, but he ignored the pain, finally restinghis head against the headboard and allowing himself to think.
What had happened? Why did he end up here? He looked down at his hands. The knuckles were red and bruised, but they looked intact and not dangerously hurt. So why was his head pounding? Why were spots flashing before his eyes? Before he could even ponder the question, there was a muffled shriek which made his head pound even worse.
"Harry!" Hermione called, rushing over to him.
'Oh God, here it comes,' thought Harry.
"Harry, we were so worried about you!"
"Yeah, mate, you gave us quite a scare."
"What happened?" Harry said, trying to shut his friends up for one second.
Madame Pomphrey rushed into the room.
'Finally, for fuck's sake,' Harry's brain shouted, 'my salvation!'
"Mr. Potter, so good to see you awake!"
'Or, maybe not.'
"Your knuckles were broken, Mr. Potter," Pomphrey explained. "Very complex bones, the knuckles. Can't make any mistakes, or the results could be very unfortunate."
'Great, thanks very much, bitch.'
"As to the pounding that I'm sure you're experiencing in your head..."
'Finally.'
"...it's the result of a panic attack. Mr. Potter, I believe that you may be suffering from chronic depression which led to an attack on your body."
'Oh, fucking great.'
Pomphrey reached down and held up wooden box. Harry looked inside. It contained about thirty identical vials of a fizzing, pink potion. Harry nearly gagged right then and there.
"If you just take one of these potions each morning, I'm sure you'll be fine."
'Brilliant. Just brilliant.'
"So," Harry said, not caring about politeness anymore, "you've invented a potion that can bring my parents and Sirius Black from the dead and then kill Voldemort, the most powerful fucking wizard in the world? Brilliant, Madame Pomphrey, let me have it!"
He snatched at the box. Madame Pomphrey, Hermione, and Ron were speechless. Harry grabbed one of the bottles inside and uncorked it, draining the contents into his mouth. He'd barely swallowed it when he was uncorking the next one, and draining that one. After five or six bottles of the disgustingly pink potion, Madame Pomphrey finally had the sense to grab the box of potion from Harry.
"Mr. Potter-"
"Where are they?! I don't see them! Hey, Mom, Dad, Sirius, are you there?! ARE YOU FUCKING THERE!?"
The room started to rotate swiftly around Harry. He slumped against his pillows, unable to move.
"ARE YOU FUCKING THERE?!!"
Darkness enveloped him.
---
Sometimes I feel like a trusted you too well Sometimes I just feel like screaming at myself sometimes I in disbelief I didn't know somehow I need to be alone
--
'Waking up,' thought Harry, 'fucking sucks.'
For the second time that day (come to think of it, he wasn't even sure if it was the same day), Harry awoke with a head that seemed to be torn into pieces, and it wasn't pain from his scar.
And this time, it wasn't only his head that ached. His whole body was searing with fire that wouldn't be quenched. It rang through his whole body. There was pain in places Harry didn't even know he had. He didn't even bother trying to get up. However, the moment he opened his eyes, a shrill whistle began. Mercifully it was night outside, so he wasn't blinded again.
Unmercifully, Madame Pomphrey and Albus Dumbledore entered the room a moment later, and the whistling sound halted.
Dumbledore sat down next to Harry's bed. Pomphrey remained standing, surveying Harrry shrewdly with one eye.
"Harry, what you did yesterday was very, very foolish," began Dumbledore solemnly. Harry wanted to come up with some rude and daring remark just to annoy the wizened Headmaster, but under Dumbledore's calculating gaze, nothing came to his mind.
"What - what happened," he managed feebly, inwardly cursing himself for making him seem so weak in front of his headmaster.
Dumbledore looked up to Pomphrey, who said, "Mr. Potter, that potion was a muscle relaxant and anti-depressant. The dose you took was in such excess of the recommendeded that your muscles started to break down, and your heart very nearly stopped. Luckily, I had some of the antidote in my office. But if I hadn't..." She trailed off, leaving Harry feeling very guilty.
"Harry," said Dumbledore softly, redirecting his attention, "I'll say it again. What you did today was very foolish. Luckily, you cannot die, because the prophecy states that either you will be killed by Lord Voldemort, or you will kill him. However, I don't want to be taking any chances, Mr. Potter. I'm going to tell you this right now, because I want to be perfectly honest. After you leave the hospital wing tomorrow, you will be under heavy watch by the staff and certain students. We can't have any ... accidents. Do you understand, Harry?"
'This is so unfair!' Harry's mind screamed, but he just deafly nodded and turned away, closing his eyes. He heard Dumbledore's and Pomphrey's footsteps retreating, then opened his eyes again...
---
Don't stay forget our memories forget our possibilities what you were changing me into [just give me myself back and] don't stay forget our memories forget our possibilities take all your faithlessness with you [just give me myself back and] don't stay
--
As soon as Harry was sure that Dumbledore and Pomphrey were truly gone, Harry slipped out of bed, quiet as a shadow. He was going to put a stop to all of this: right here, right now, he was going leave and never come back. He couldn't handle it - the pain, the pressure, the sadness, the numbness.
He padded through the hallways. Even with his invisibility cloak and the Maurader's Map, he was still and expert at navigating the halls of Hogwarts late at night without getting caught. Left, right, right, through a secret door behind a tapestry, upstairs, left. He twisted his way till he found his way to the fat lady's portrait. Without giving her time to question, he muttered the password and was inside.
The commonroom was dark and empty. The embers of a dying fire just barely glowed in the hearth. Harry tiptoed across the room and crept upstairs, silent as a mouse. Inside his dormitory, he pulled out his invisibility cloak, his wand, and the Marauder's Map. It would be useless outside of Hogwarts, he knew, but he took it anyway.
He grabbed his Firebolt and left the dormitory for the last time ever.
Making his way back down was much easier than going up now that he had the cloak and the map. Soon, oh so soon, he was at the entrance hall, and then out, out onto the cool lawns.
Don't stay, shouted the castle behind him, don't stay.
Harry mounted his firebolt and kicked off, soaring away. Soon the castle was going, going, gone.....
------
A/N - If you think I should continue, the next chapter is 'Easier to Run'. Please review!