Disclaimer: I do not own any of J.K's HP characters.
Thanks to all the people who have been nice enough to review me so far. I hope you like what I have going so far. I know people have been reluctant to read cause of harrys death, but hey, theres hope for him still, right?
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Is there a reason why people are so willing to give themselves up?
People give themselves up when all hopes for the better have been relinquished…
Crumpled into the dust to wither away into complete nothing, just like their body and souls…
Hopes become nothing, faith becomes nothing…
They become nothing more than the whisper of a memory still lingering upon a desperate mind.
All Fidelity will have descended to its grave…
Is that why people just decide to give themselves up?
But, to a boy named Harry Potter, Sacrifice suddenly gains a whole new meaning…
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Three days…
Three more days of breath before the plunge… Three more days before Hogwarts impenetrable grounds becomes a battlefield of the apocalypse, summoned by the final judgment… Three more days before Voldemort waged his war upon Harry Potter and the world. Lastly, three more days before Harry Potter became the sacrifice and lost the ones he loved forever…
Lucid to say, Harry James Potter was feeling both rueful and disinclined. It was only three more days before Priscus Piaculum would smite the dark lord Voldemort into ruin, but not without renouncing his own life with its magic beckoning. He had only so much time to say his farewells before his link to the living was interminably breached. But he would do it… He would deliver the wizarding world from the ever looming threats of annihilation and bondage, and no servant of the dark lord would hinder him. Not while he still had strength…
'One cannot live while the others dies...'
A flashback of that day came to his mind.
-"Promise me, Remus… Promise me that you won't tell anyone about this!" Harry demanded shrewdly, his fingers tight around Remus Lupin's shoulders. He could not stress the importance that no one, especially not Ron, Hermione or Ginny, know about Priscus Piaculum. They could not know… No one could know what he was going to do in three short days. Harry knew that they would stop at nothing to try and stop him from delivering Voldemorts defeat with him as the price. They would tell him, like Remus, that there must be another way that was not so reckless. They would be selfish, wanting to keep him alive at all costs while wizard kind fell into darkness all around them. Hogwarts and the Order of the Phoenix had lost too many good souls already in these dark times. But this was war, and to gain victory, recklessness was imperative. Even if it would cost someone their life in the process.
"But,Harry!" Remus protested, his features desperate. This werewolf, this wizard… The last Marauder… He had lost his last best friend because of him. No matter how many people told him that it was not his fault, it still remained. It remained deep inside where no one could find it, not even himself. The guilt was embedded there into broken grooves of his heart that had all surfaced along the years of misery and despair. Embedded with a knife so sharp, it hurt even then. And it would continue aching like some perpetual infection until after three days. But he would let no more die because of him. This was going to end…
"No, Remus, you have to promise me that you won't breathe a word of this to anyone…" Harry reprimanded, his fingers unconsciously digging into Remus' shabby robes. He had to hold onto something, anything.
"Harry, you cannot just ask me to let your friends be unaware of this…" He said, but began speaking when Harry opened his mouth to interrupt. "Do you know what it would be like for me to see any of them mourning over your grave while I had known of your death beforehand? Do you even realize how it would affect me to know that you will die in four days and I did nothing to stop it? I just-" He broke off of his rambling to run a hand down the contours of his aging face. He had never looked so old before. "I can't do it, Harry…" Remus whispered at last, his eyes descending to the ground for he could no longer bear looking at green eyes so much like Lily Potters.
Harry sucked in a choked breath, the air seemingly stolen from his very lungs. Fighting against the frustrated burning behind his eyes, he slowly sunk to the stone floor. The coldness of the stone rang a shock through the skin of his kneecaps. With trembling fingers, he grabbed Remus' hands.
Moony's eyes widened as he took upon the sight before him.
"God, Harry, please don't do this… Please don't beg this of me…" Remus murmured, his face crumpling at the desperation upon the boys face. The boy who stood on his knees… The boy of such renown, on his knees before a decrepit, lost werewolf, begging for he to let him die. No, this wasn't happening…It wasn't. How would James or Sirius react if they could see this now? How would they react to see such a boy on his knees, asking to be sacrificed? How would they bear seeing The boy who Lived begging from a monstrous creature of abomination? Looking down at the pitiful face, he swallowed the lump forming in his throat. But he would no longer be able to stop the howling misery at Harry Potter's next words.
"Please, Remus… Please…" He pleaded in a whisper.
Harry watched, numb, as Remus tore his hands away from his to bury his face. Squeezing his eyes shut against the burning tears harboring in his eyes, his hands dropped to his sides and he slowly sunk down from his knees. Never had he felt this desperate. Never had he felt so weak against the onslaught of emotions running through him all at once like a wave crashing down upon his protective walls. He, as a man, was horrible. Horrible at bringing this burden upon his friend's shoulders. It was desecration to their relationship as two friends, two brothers, forever fighting for the same cause. He slowly raised his eyes to look once more up at Remus. The fingers covering his face were shaking violently. And he had brought this… A split image of Sirius' pale, Azkaban haunted face flashed in his mind. Harry almost winced. But at last, he spoke from behind his hands.
The words were angry, forceful.
"I won't let you do this, do you understand?!… This is suicide… This is madness! You need to be saved, Harry…" The werewolf bellowed, ripping his hands savagely over his damp cheeks. He needed out, he needed to think, he needed counsel. Dumbledore! Yes, Dumbledore would surely know what had to be done to stop this. Dumbledore knew everything… Without another glance at Harry's pallid, afflicted face, he grabbed his bag, and made a dash for the library door. But before he shut it behind him, he made out Harry Potter's soft voice speaking to himself.
"I don't want to be saved anymore…"
It was only later that night that Remus Lupin realized Albus Dumbledore was just a man like everyone else. A man who did not know everything…A man who did not know how to save Harry Potter.-
As Harry looked back on that day only yesterday, he could not help but feel hopeful. No one seemed to know, all was still kept in the midst of darkness and ignorance. Only Dumbledore and Remus knew, that much was obvious. Harry had a distinct feeling that Dumbledore would know exactly what he was planning even if Remus did not tell him. The headmaster of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry was like that. He seemingly always knew about everything, even when it was happening. That reassured Harry, because so far it seemed as though his wise mentor was not going to make a move of hindering his sacrifice. For once, the great defeater of Grindelwald was going to stand down and let me decide his destiny.
Harry tried not to let these thoughts plague his mind as he walked along the outline of Hogwarts Lake, his fingers laced with that of a young woman. A young woman with vibrant, fiery red hair with hues of copper, and a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Seventeen year old Ginny Weasley walked beside him, blissfully unaware that she would no longer be able to hold his hand any longer after Priscus Piaculum was uttered from his lips.
He had spent the whole day, deeply taking in everyone and everything around him. He relished and tried to remember every last scent, sound and feeling that flooded through him as he walked the stone corridors of his familiar, beloved school. This had been his home, his real home. It had been both his utopia and his hell when away every year from the Dursleys's at Privet Drive. A home where he found friendship, companionship, and love in all his seven years. It would be hard leaving it behind, but not more painful then leaving behind all the people within the fortress. It would become nothing more than a sweet memory swept away in a passing wind.
He remembered how his morning had been when he had slowly descended the stairs from the boy's dormitory. Harry stood at the foot of the steps, taking in every miniscule detail of the Gryffindor common room. Every last thing he had wanted to remember… To the comfy red couches that he had done his myriad of assignments on, or slept on with the company of Ginny, to the roar of the dancing fire where he would secretly speak to Sirius during his fourth and fifth year. Later going down to breakfast, he would take in the vast sight of the many moving staircases, the talking portraits, and the entrance hall where he had first stood with Ron and had been introduced to tight-lipped Professor McGonagall.
Walking deliberately slow into the great hall, he took in the sight of the magnificent enchanted ceiling to the tables full of eating youths. Talking was subdued into whispers because the students had a suspicion of the oncoming war and were preparing themselves for it. But despite the unsettlement in the air, he sat down at the Gryffindor table watching the staff table and then gazed in wonder as owls swooped in through the windows, dropping a shower of letters and parcels. He remembered with sadness how he would get letters from Hagrid with invitations to go to his hut for tea, or a letter from dear snuffles. Then there was that day he received his first broomstick so long ago. His nimbus two thousand… He had been the youngest seeker of the century.
He had spent the rest of that one breakfast, memorizing every last thing about Ron and Hermione who sat across from him. To their hair color and reassuring, familiar voices, to their constant bickering, a slight small remained upon his lips the whole time he watched every move they made, down to the last habit.
All things around him had seemed to move in slow motion as he appreciated everything to its last essence. So many memories… His Hogwarts letter from Hagrid, his first Quidditch game, the Philosopher's Stone, The chamber of secrets, Fawkes the phoenix, potion classes, the shrieking shack, Sirius escaping on Buckbeak the hippogriff, Dementors, Hogsmeade, the tri-wizard championship, Cedric, his first kiss, Dumbledore's army.
It was only that late evening that Harry had asked Ginny to accompany on a secret walk outside on Hogwarts grounds. Taking the invisibility cloak with them so that the threat of being caught by Filch and Mrs. Norris was lessened, the duo had stolen away out into the crisp spring air. Harry caught the youngest Weasley's hand with his, his thumb grazing lightly over the top of her knuckles. Time was precious with the people he cared for most. Each minute, each second had to be appreciated for they would be Harry Potter's last. The only being's hand that Harry would be holding next was that of the angel of death. And when she did curl her frozen, shadowy fingers around his hand, there was no letting go… No turning back…
The silence of their walk was broken.
"What's wrong, Harry?" She asked softly. Crashing back toward reality, he glanced at her from the corner of his eye. In the moonlight, her eyes looked like pools of melted, liquid chocolate. Stopping for a moment in his stride, he let escape a sigh and reached over to tuck a strand of red hair behind her ear as he set his calculating gaze upon her. She had always told him everything, and now he had to hide like a coward. God, he wanted to tell her so bad. Tell her that they would no longer be together. Tell her that every moment they were sharing at that moment was like a breath of fresh air in his starving lungs. She met his gaze with open expression that told him directly what she was feeling there outside Hogwarts castle. After a moment of the two staring into one another, he spoke.
"Nothing, Ginny." He lied, feeling treacherous. However, she did not question him. She had learned over time that it was best to wait and let him talk when he needed too, rather then push him for answers. Ginny simply gave his hand a comforting squeeze and smiled pleasantly as they began to walk again. He forced himself to smile back, feeling more horrible that she accepted his lie even when it was evident that she did not believe him. She always did that. Instead of a query like Ron and Hermione would bring upon him, she would wait until he was ready to talk. And because of that, Harry loved her.
The two walked peacefully under the veil of light from the moon which shone like a gleaming beacon in the velvet sea of stars. The school grounds were dark; the only light from that of the sky. In the distance, Harry could make out a small candle lit in the far away window of Hagrid's cabin. If the two listened real close, they could hear Hagrid making himself a brew of tea while talking to his boar hound Fang.
Harry and Ginny walked in long steps up a grassy hill near the forbidden forest where flowers had bloomed in its wake upon the arrival of spring. Fanning out his Invisibility cloak, Harry laid down, cushioned by the fresh grass under the fabric. Opening his arms with invitation, Ginny lay down beside him, wrapping an arm over the top of his waist, her head lying in the crook of his arm. She sighed in content, burying her face into his shirt for a moment before looking up at the stars. Harry felt a peaceful smile play across his lips as he looked down at the top of her copper hued head. He could almost feel his heart settle tranquilly. Long had he felt weary in his life, but it was times like these with this young woman that he truly felt at peace. A peace in where he could actually rest away from the horrors of their world. He wanted to tell her this, but he wished not to break the silent communion that ran between them.
What he would do to be able to wake up every morning of a new dawn and have this blessing cradled next to him…
"Harry?..." She asked softly after several long minutes. Taking in a breath of fresh night air mingled with the intoxicating lavender scent of her hair, he closed his eyes.
"Hmm?...." He replied drowsily. Harry could feel the shift of her head off his arm, and then the weight of her gaze upon him. Opening one of his eyes, he spied her watching him.
"Are you scared?..." Harry's eyes both opened at this question as he propped himself up onto his elbow to look at her closely. Her eyes were glowing in the darkness like a cat. A trait he was rather fond of. She was silent for a moment, as his fingers played idly with a lock of her red hair. Scared? Of course he was scared. Scared to die? No, he really wasn't. It was in death that he would finally be reunited with Lily and James Potter, and of course, his godfather Sirius Black. Was he scared to leave her and the others behind? Yes, so scared that he could feel it in his very bones like a cancer.
"Scared of what, Gin?" He queried gently. The question was really quite unnecessary but he only wanted to hear her voice again. Harry had decided long ago that he enjoyed the sound of her voice very much. Like bells… Very melodious, wonderful bells. She bit down on her lower lip for a second before answering. Whatever it was, it had most conspicuously been bothering her.
"Scared of… everything that's happening, I guess…" She answered uncertainly. A ghost of a sheepish smile appeared on her face after answering. Harry lay back down on his back, tugging her down beside him. When her head was comfortingly cushioned by his arm, he answered.
"I am scared a little…" He said. She raised her eyebrows at him.
"Only a little?" She asked with hints of a smirk quirking at the corners of her mouth. Chuckling gently, he looked up at the sky stretching across the world. The stars twinkled and seemed to laugh down upon them. His free arm rose in the air and unconsciously traced the constellation of Sirius. It made him smile sadly to see that one shape so alive. Ginny sensed this and snuggled closer to the length of his body, her hair draping over his shoulder like a red cloak.
"If you're asking that I'm scared of the possibility of death, then no, I'm not…" Harry answered finally, trying to push away the thoughts of Priscus Piaculum. He had tried with gusto to break away from feeling the emotions that had been harboring in his being, but they surfaced despite his attempts. Uncertainty… Lord, he was feeling uncertain of his decision to do the sacrifice. No, he could not! He had to do it! Uncertainty would be the loss of all hopes of Priscus Piaculum working. He had to defeat Voldemort once and for all. Too many had suffered already at the hands of the dark lord and he could not remain settled with it. Too many will suffer if he didn't do something. They will suffer because of him… She would suffer because of him….
At this thought, Harry turned over until he was hovering over Ginny's form, her back pressed into the fabric of his cloak while he supported the weight of his torso with his elbows. She smiled serenely, her fingers coming up to run through his savage, jet-black hair. He closed his eyes, trying to remember all the feelings running through him. Completion, pure elation, peace, happiness, desire and love… Sucking in a shaky breath as her hand trailed down his forehead to trace his scar, his eyes darkened into an obsidian emerald. She was smiling that joyful smile that he had come to adore over the years. God, what was death anyway when you got to have experienced feelings like this at least once in your life? He could have died right then but it would not have mattered in the very least.
Ducking his head, he captured her lips with his. All thoughts of uncertainly were immediately vanquished and replaced with that of an overwhelming sense of mutual completion. Her hands glided over his shoulders and rested behind his neck, fingers twirling through strands of untidy, ravenous hair. The weight of his chest gently pressed into hers, his mouth moving over hers with pulses of electric euphoria trailing throughout the lengths of their bodies, his heart singing with rejoice. She was soft, and sweet. One hand cupped the side of the column of her neck while the other was braced on the side of her body, mainly to keep himself from crushing her with his body mass. The scent of wild flowers mingled with lavender tickled his nostrils, making him smile into the kiss. She reciprocated, and laughed against his mouth. Soon the two broke away from each other, both breathless but still naturally laughing.
Her eyes were shining as he looked down at her, lying among the wild flowers, her hair in a glowing pool around her head. She looked so beautiful that moment, and with a smile he ran the back of his hand down the contour of her cheek. She sighed with happiness and closed her eyes. And as he watched her, he realized something. Harry realized that his sacrifice was not just for the good of wizard and muggle kind and his friends, but also for her, the woman in his life. The woman he had wanted to someday marry and make happy at any cost. The woman he would perhaps want to start his own family with. The woman that would make him and Ron actual brothers. The woman that helped him find a part of himself that was supposedly lost. And lastly, a woman who gave him hope…
He would die for Ginny, and for her, he would accept it…
Was this what the sacrifice was all about? Was the truth behind self sacrifice not because the death of all fidelity, but because acceptance had given him an ever stronger hope for the people that he loved to continue living? Was this the answer to Priscus Piaculum? Perhaps Lily Potter had accepted death because she loved Harry… For him, she welcomed it with open arms, just as long as her precious baby boy remained safe and sound from the evils of the world. Her sacrifice had shielded the fingers of death threatening to grab at him that night when Voldemort came to Godric's Hollow. Like mother, like son, love would be their most powerful weapon. It would be their savior.
Acceptance would save them all…
He was doing it for Ginny, for Ron and Hermione, for Remus, Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix. He was doing it for Sirius and his parents, all of Hogwarts, and heck, he was even doing it for the ungrateful gits like Draco Malfoy and Severus Snape.
Remembering himself, he looked to her.
"Ginny?" He whispered.
"Yes, Harry?..."
"I am scared…" He admitted, successfully answering her question from earlier. She turned onto her side and propped herself up on her elbow so that she was looking down at him. Ginny titled her red-haired head with curiosity, a silent plea for him to go on gleaming alight in her calculating gaze. Feeling relieved that she would listen instead of speak, he continued, reliving part of his conversation with Remus.
"I'm scared that I'll loose everyone that I love because of me…" He said, his eyes searching the stars above him. Harry suddenly felt a hand on his cheek as she turned his face to look at her. She was smiling ever so slightly. That smile that showed so little but knew so much.
"Harry… The reason we die is not your fault, you must see that." She paused to brush away the hair upon his forehead so that she could trace his trademark scar again with meticulous care. Shivers raced down his spine like liquid fire from her delicate touch. "We don't die because of you, Harry, only for you…" She explained, all the while still running her fingers through his hair. Lips parting, Harry out a shaky breath, her words breathing over him again and again in a fluttering whisper. His heart was nearly soaring out from his chest as if sprouting wings like a golden snitch; it was thumping so fast. They are dying for me, not because of me… Again and again he repeated these words, unable to stop.
People had died for him… His parents… Sirius…
People would die for him…
But now, he would be able to return the promise…
The parasite of uncertainly died within him almost at once and Ginny Weasley, sensing the peace she had brought upon him, closed her sleepy eyes into his side. Within moments, she had fallen asleep. Harry slowly turned his head down to gaze upon her, his fingers skimming across her cheek bone and into the rivulets of silky hair. She unconsciously sighed against the delicacy of his secret caress.
"I'll take care of you, Ginny. Ron had me promise him that I would, you know, but I don't think it will be a problem anymore. Not when I can watch over you from afar… That's one promise I know that I can keep…"
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I believe that I may have finally accepted my fate…
And the funny thing is… I'm at peace with this doom, because now I can find my rest.
Rest with the lingering of her love upon my skin,
Just like my mother had done that one, fateful night when she was taken…
Fate is unfair; it's cruel and at times inhumane
But I finally know what sacrifice means, other than what it is in the eye of society
And suddenly, it's not so unfair anymore…
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A/N: Er… well I hope you liked this chapter. Thanks too all those who reviewed me so far. I can understand the reluctance to start such a fic, but hey, who knows what might happen?