A/N Ok this is a pause from my other story it's very strange but you might like it (who knows) Now those of you people who have thoroughly devoured the J.K.Rowling website will know that the reason Voldemort is so horrible (understatement of the century) is because he never felt love no one loved him and he loved no-one (because his mum died before he knew her and his dad is what some may call a insensitive prick) so I thought this is the perfect excuse for a what if fiction. Here I go.
Harry stood on the battlefield his blood soaked clothes weighing him down, or was it just the weight of the world, resting on his shoulders? His life had lead up to this moment; it was what he knew he had to do, and just moments before had come his realization that he'd done it. He had murdered the most evil man to come out of the wizarding world, and Harry felt something utterly and completely unexpected. He felt sorry for him. He felt sympathy for the man who had everything at his hand, but had had nothing. Many knew how, but not many knew why. Harry felt sorry for who he was, and who, as a result, he had become. To stare at the deformed body, and not shudder, was something Harry knew most men would never be able to do. But then what? What would happen to the body? Would it be left here to rot? Would the few un-captured followers take it? All Harry knew is that there would be no mourning, not a tear shed for the little boy that was no more. No human deserved that, but Tom had left all that was human in him behind, for the sake of power. What had made him cling to nothing? Surely there was something more to the man than a desire to rule, but stare in to those cold eyes and you could see that there was nothing left of the child born with so much potential. It was sad really, but what could he do? What was done was done and there wasn't anything he could do about it.
Before he left to sort out the casualties and round up he last of the Death Eaters, he took one last look at the embodiment of fear and cried. Turning away he ran to the campsite to announce the death of the world's common enemy.
The Death Eaters, of the few that were left, surrendered. Without their master, what else could they do?
So many died that day. Even before Harry was told of the losses, he knew at least Dumbledore, Dean and Lavender had died. He saw them all fall, for the sake of their friends and their family. He was certain there were more fatalities, but he was so engrossed in his target that he did not see whether they were friend or foe; let alone who they were.
Harry made his way to the medical tents. He was about to make his way in but he saw the Flash of bright red hair outside. He felt relief at least he knew one of his companions were alive. No matter which Weasley it was, he needed to talk to them find out whom else they had lost.
"Hey!" Called Harry. The Tall figure turned around.
"Harry! You're all right! Oh thank god!" Ron shouted.
Harry quickly ran to comfort his friend who was obviously very disturbed. After a minute Harry asked the question he knew he needed answering.
"Ron," He paused "I know this is hard for you but could you tell me anyone you know who died?"
"I can't tell you everyone mate but I can tell you a few." Croaked Ron He was finding it difficult to speak. "Well there are six I know who definitely died, and a few I'm not sure about."
Ron began to Cry. The tears streamed down his battle worn face.
"Could you tell me?" asked Harry who was trying hard to fight back his own tears, despite that he had to encourage Ron to continue. Harry had to know who the fatalities were.
"Well, there was Remus, Snape, Dumbledore, Neville, Dean and…" Ron began to shake with the force of his tears "…Dad" he finished with a choke.
Harry put a comforting arm around his shoulder. There were four more people who had lost their lives. Harry knew that, over time he was sure he would discover more casualties. He had lost his last contact to his parents his protector and two of his close friends "I'm sorry to have to ask this Ron, but who were the people you didn't know about? What do you mean you didn't know?" Harry was trying to be comforting, but in his own fragile state he wasn't very good at it.
Ron swallowed back the next wave of tears "I mean the people who were badly injured, they're in the medical tents." Ron paused "Do you need to know them too?" he asked.
"It would help if I did." said Harry hoping against hope it was not anyone very close to him, it may have seemed selfish but he didn't think he could deal with anymore.
"Okay then, I think there was Parvati, Draco, Ginny, Justin Flinch-Fletchley…" he breathed heavily "…Luna and Hermione."
Both Harry and Ron broke down there and then. Friends, family and all the people he held dear, were dead or fighting for their lives in those god-forsaken tents. All they had been preparing for had come down to this day, and Harry had lost so much already, that the thought that he could lose so much more shocked him, and scarred him. The strange thing was, that he didn't feel as bad for himself as he did for others, Ron had already lost George, his mother and Percy, in the months before the battle and now he had lost his father. But not only that, he was also having to face the prospect of losing his only sister and his best friend come fiancée as well.
Fortunately, now that the battle was over, the medi-wizards and witches were able to use magic to heal, providing a much greater chance of these people surviving, especially with madam Pomfrey and Padma Patil on the case.
For now though, all Harry wanted to do was get some rest. The final battle had been so physically wearing, that he felt he could sleep for years on end without a break, and as no one but the injured and the medi-witches and wizards could enter the tents, Harry couldn't see how his friends were doing. He went to one of the dorm tents, taking Ron with him, sent Ron to his own bunk, where they each fell asleep.
Harry found himself in a room it was very dark save for the occasional purple light. The lights had an eerie quality to them and they cast half shadows onto the already haunting room. There were three doors he could see, and in the dim purple light he could make out the signs on the door. The first one said PAST, the next one was labelled PRESENT and the last was labelled FUTURE. Harry was carefully studying these doors until another door materialized in between past and present. This one was labelled WHAT IF? So Harry tried the doors at random.
The first door he chose was "Present". When he opened the door the room span, it reminded him of two things, port keys and the pensieve. The room came into focus it was like a tape recorder it showed Harry and Ron sleeping in their respective bunks, it wasn't until then he realized he might be able to move around the image. He moved out side to the open area, where men stayed when they were waiting for there shift, or where they talked if they couldn't get to sleep, or were waiting to see it someone they dropped off at the medi-tents pulled through. Harry's first impulse was to go into the tents to see what had happened to those who had been named critically injured, but his better judgment told him not to. He didn't want to know what had happened to his best friends. He didn't want to see them when they were maimed and injured. He fought himself and left. When he went back to the bunkhouse he found the spot where he had come through, but he could not find the door. He looked upon where he stood and found the entrance. It was a small purple ball of light that, he was sure was not there before. He touched it and sure enough, he was transported back to the Darkened room.
The next door he found was labelled "Future". When he passed through this door, he discovered that the images through this door were very different, instead of it being one moment in time that he could walk through, it was like a film in fast forward, skipping through various phases in time, pausing occasionally. Every time it paused Harry found that he could stop the picture by concentrating on the image. Within those images Harry saw things he had never Dreamt of accomplishing. He was so sure that today would be his last that he forgot to live for anything else. He saw Ron and Hermione getting married. He saw himself and Ginny having children. He saw a future better than anything he had ever hoped for, and yet it seemed so far away. The sheer force of his need for this, his need to hold onto something, made him break down into tears, but the fact remained that, he didn't even know whether it was because he was happy, or sad. This time the purple light was not there, but as there was nothing actually behind him, the door remained.
When Harry saw the other door "Past" he decided not to enter he knew what the past was, and what it had held. It was over now and there was nothing he could do about it. Re-living it was too painful. So instead he looked for the other door labelled "What If?"
This door was different to the others it was iridescent and slightly see-through, with a gold tint to it. It was beautiful if nothing else. He looked for a handle to see if he could step through as he could with the others, but there was no handle. He wondered what would happen if he touched it. When he did, he was sucked through. It wasn't like the other doors, where he was in a picture. It was nothing, literally nothing. Not light, nor dark, nor stars. There were no people, not a world, not anything that was conceivable, and it shook Harry to the very core of his being. With this abstract fear, came abstract thoughts. With nothing here to think about, his mind dwelt on the current situation. What if Hermione and all his friends didn't make it?
Suddenly a flash of light appeared and Harry was dropped into a strange world. He could see it playing. Ron, with all those other survivors, were weeping and mourning. The medi-witches and wizards, who had saw their companions die, absolutely distraught. Just then there was a fast-forward in this image, much like when the future pictures showed up. Ron in the long-term ward at St. Mungo's his face was sunken and his once fit muscled body was withered. There was picture after horrific picture of his surviving friends, who had all been having tortured lives due to the events of this day.
Harry couldn't stand it any more. "STOP!" and once again there was nothing.
Harry realized the potential of this place. He had one more trial run first.
"What if I said 'rabbit' really loudly?"
Once again there was a flash of light which this time showed Harry shouting Rabbit at the top of his lungs. But this didn't have much of a consequence. Harry asked the strange room the question that had come into his head when he realized what this room was for.
"What if Tom Riddle had felt love?"
There was another flash. Harry waited. There was a moment before a whirl of colour filled the room. There was a fairly old man, not more than 80, but still old none-the-less. He was sitting on an old rocking chair in a warm house. He was holding a little child in his arms to whom he was singing a soft lullaby. When he looked up Harry saw who the old man was. It was Tom! Not the evil, twisted, corrupted being of the reality that was Voldemort, but a kind old man who was looking after a little baby, who instead of looking like the reptilian skinned person preserved in magic, but much more like the 16 year old Harry had seen in his second year, only, this Tom was happy. He was smiling. Something he had never seen the real Voldemort do.
There was another swirl of colour. Harry was standing with Ron and Hermione at graduation, only Harry was slightly different it was only a little change, but it was a noticeable one. He no longer had a scar on his forehead. Harry looked around. If this was his graduation…indeed there they were his parents Sirius, Remus, and Peter. Sirius looked great. Harry could see what everyone meant by the fact he was handsome. Without the years in Azkaban to destroy his body and soul he looked astonishing. Peter without Voldemort was a true friend. He was happy too. Harry's parents were so perfect. His mum and dad were there taking photographs of Harry's special day.
Harry noticed someone out of the corner of his eye, a small girl of about 9 or 10. She was very similar to his mother apart from the fact she had jet-black hair. He watched her as she ran up to the image of himself.
"Big Brother! Big Brother! Are we done yet? I wanna go play!" once she had reached Harry she threw herself around his middle into a playful hug. Harry saw himself bend down and pick the little girl up before taking her back to his mother and father. They stood together laughing and smiling, before Harry was wrenched from his picture.
Harry woke up to Ron calling him "Harry, Harry. Harry!"
Harry was less than amused he wanted to be back with his family and the little sister who never existed.
"What is it? I want to sleep!"
"Harry they're alright! The medical staff has managed to save the people who were badly injured."
Relief seemed to wash over the both of them "Oh Thank god!"
"Harry what were you dreaming about? You were muttering in you're sleep."
"Oh I was dreaming about Voldemort." Concern was evident on the face of his friend.
"Harry…" Harry broke in halfway through Ron's speech that he was undoubtedly going to begin.
"No nothing like that, it was about how if Voldemort was happy about his own life." Harry paused relishing the vision or all he truly wanted. "It was beautiful. Tom had a child with him. I think it was a grandson, and then it switched to our graduation, there was all my family there and Sirius and Remus and Peter and none of them had done anything wrong. I had a sister she looked like my mum but she had black hair. Odd really."
"Yeah it is a bit."
"What love can do I suppose."
Fine
Oh my god this is probably one of the strangest fics I have ever written (many of mine are unpublished or in my head) thanks a bunch to many people. Including passionflower.
I know some may be mad at the people I have killed but think about it this way; they can now go and see their old friends. (Especially Remus, who has lost all his nearest and dearest.