The Death of Harry Potter
By: Darkmoore
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Part VI – Neville
I'm all that's left. Just me, Neville Longbottom. Everyone else said that they would never forsake him, but they're all gone now. Ron and Hermione were his best friends in the world. Where are they? I checked the log book, neither one has been here in months. The great Albus Dumbledore said he loved Harry Potter above all things. The logbook doesn't record his visit since two years ago. Molly Weasley held him her arms and cried over him and called him her child. Thank Merlin I'm not a Weasley and not her child. It's been five full years for her since she's seen him. I hope I never see that woman again, even if she is Ron's mum.
Just me and him. He was there for all of us, when we needed him and now he needs us and I'm standing here alone watching the corner where he used to sit with his teddy bear. Who ever gave him that bear, I hope they know how much it means to him to have it. It's the one thing he feels safe loving.
Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the savior of the wizarding world, did his job and committed the murder he was designed to do. He killed Who Know Who. To me he'll always be Harry, just Harry. The boy who shared my dorm room, the boy who was great at Quidditch, the boy who taught me how to defend myself and live. One of the best friends I ever had in this world or the next.
I was there, the day of the great battle and Harry and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named fought. I was there and watched as Harry won that fight and how the magical backlash from his death was focused almost entirely on Harry through the damnable scar they shared and broke his mind to little pieces. At first he wasn't quite so bad, just a little shell shocked and able to be paraded around by the Ministry of Magic and he wasn't really there for it all. Then when they were done with him, they dumped him in St. Mungo's and was conveniently forgotten. Just like my parents.
I come every day. I tell him about my job working with plants. I tell him about my wife Parvati and about the son he had with her that he doesn't even know about, but I have raised like my own. I tell him about the children I have had with Parvati, our son Frank and daughter Harriet. He never moves and seems to understand, even when I talk about his son, Tom. That was always a joke with him; name his first born son after that man who killed his parents. What was he thinking?
The only time he seems to understand and truly be there is when we read together. We'd get some pillows and get on the floor and he puts his head on my shoulders as I read Muggle story books to him, his favorite is 'James and the Giant Peach.' That's the one he picks, if he can get to it before I can pick a book out. It wouldn't matter; I could recite it blindfolded now it's been so many times. That's our life together.
This is the way it's been for years that is until this morning when I came by like I always do to see him before going to work and bringing him the small raisin muffins that he likes so much. No this morning, the nurse stops and pulls me into a small office where they tell me he had died in his sleep the night before holding onto his teddy bear like a little child.
I don't hear this. I can't hear this. He and I were born on the same day in the same year. He's only 32 for Merlin's sake, he can't be dead. I won't allow it. As I stand here looking into his corner where his big pillows are waiting for him to come over and sit on them with his teddy bear.
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Author's Note: To everyone who reviewed, thanks again...
krysalys73 wrote Yikes. Well, at least Tyler wasn't suffering from the other half of the Oedipus complex. ::snort:: Excellent story. I can so see this happening to Harry. Becoming twisted and warped beyond recognition, and those who loved him the most at a complete loss to help him the way(s) he needed so desperately. Awesome. Is there more? I sure as hell hope so.
Answer - Yes, there is more. That story is one of my favorites that I wrote about Harry's death. But I hope you liked this one also.
By: Darkmoore
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Part VI – Neville
I'm all that's left. Just me, Neville Longbottom. Everyone else said that they would never forsake him, but they're all gone now. Ron and Hermione were his best friends in the world. Where are they? I checked the log book, neither one has been here in months. The great Albus Dumbledore said he loved Harry Potter above all things. The logbook doesn't record his visit since two years ago. Molly Weasley held him her arms and cried over him and called him her child. Thank Merlin I'm not a Weasley and not her child. It's been five full years for her since she's seen him. I hope I never see that woman again, even if she is Ron's mum.
Just me and him. He was there for all of us, when we needed him and now he needs us and I'm standing here alone watching the corner where he used to sit with his teddy bear. Who ever gave him that bear, I hope they know how much it means to him to have it. It's the one thing he feels safe loving.
Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the savior of the wizarding world, did his job and committed the murder he was designed to do. He killed Who Know Who. To me he'll always be Harry, just Harry. The boy who shared my dorm room, the boy who was great at Quidditch, the boy who taught me how to defend myself and live. One of the best friends I ever had in this world or the next.
I was there, the day of the great battle and Harry and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named fought. I was there and watched as Harry won that fight and how the magical backlash from his death was focused almost entirely on Harry through the damnable scar they shared and broke his mind to little pieces. At first he wasn't quite so bad, just a little shell shocked and able to be paraded around by the Ministry of Magic and he wasn't really there for it all. Then when they were done with him, they dumped him in St. Mungo's and was conveniently forgotten. Just like my parents.
I come every day. I tell him about my job working with plants. I tell him about my wife Parvati and about the son he had with her that he doesn't even know about, but I have raised like my own. I tell him about the children I have had with Parvati, our son Frank and daughter Harriet. He never moves and seems to understand, even when I talk about his son, Tom. That was always a joke with him; name his first born son after that man who killed his parents. What was he thinking?
The only time he seems to understand and truly be there is when we read together. We'd get some pillows and get on the floor and he puts his head on my shoulders as I read Muggle story books to him, his favorite is 'James and the Giant Peach.' That's the one he picks, if he can get to it before I can pick a book out. It wouldn't matter; I could recite it blindfolded now it's been so many times. That's our life together.
This is the way it's been for years that is until this morning when I came by like I always do to see him before going to work and bringing him the small raisin muffins that he likes so much. No this morning, the nurse stops and pulls me into a small office where they tell me he had died in his sleep the night before holding onto his teddy bear like a little child.
I don't hear this. I can't hear this. He and I were born on the same day in the same year. He's only 32 for Merlin's sake, he can't be dead. I won't allow it. As I stand here looking into his corner where his big pillows are waiting for him to come over and sit on them with his teddy bear.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Author's Note: To everyone who reviewed, thanks again...
krysalys73 wrote Yikes. Well, at least Tyler wasn't suffering from the other half of the Oedipus complex. ::snort:: Excellent story. I can so see this happening to Harry. Becoming twisted and warped beyond recognition, and those who loved him the most at a complete loss to help him the way(s) he needed so desperately. Awesome. Is there more? I sure as hell hope so.
Answer - Yes, there is more. That story is one of my favorites that I wrote about Harry's death. But I hope you liked this one also.
