My muse just wouldn't leave me alone with this idea. But then right after, it stopped, as it usually does, just to bug me. Why it does that? I have no idea… but this started me to continue A Child's Hope so at least my muse isn't totally hopeless. The next chapter of that should be coming up soon. Sorry for the wait…
Is It Worth It?
All in front of him as he stood in the Great Hall's doorway were chattering students oblivious of the dangers that could befall then at any moment. The adults kept up a façade of cheerfulness to dispel any depressing emotions that any person could have had. But the knowledge remained in each heart, kept hidden, of the darkness' return. Daily routines remained in place however. Smiles reached every face. They knew not of the disappearing muggles and wizarding battles around England deciding their fate. Most was kept quiet to avoid any disturbances, and all that was squeezed out was unconsciously driven out of each mind. It was better for a sense of security in their lives. Who would want to accept the fear that would only destroy their heart, their dreams?
"Fools they are. Don't they know that their lives hang in the balance?"
Harry was surprised that, though he thought it, it was not he who spoke it allowed. He turned to see the Slytherin Prince, Draco Malfoy, stand beside him, gazing at each student as well. Gone was the obnoxious attitude that drove him mad with taunting. Gone was the superiority complex that emitted off the Slytherin. Gone it was, but nothing was different with his appearance at all. Just the sense of the change, nothing more.
"We won't allow anything to happen to them."
"Who, Potter? You and Dumbledore against the Dark Lord? A man too old to do much but speak babble, and a child who happens to bring bad luck as a moth to a light?"
"All those who hope to see another day," he argued back, "who doesn't want their families to live in fear. They won't sit back and watch as their lives are destroyed."
"You think they will risk their lives when they have you to?" There was no malice in his voice, just as if he were stating a fact he knew already. As if commenting on the weather. "Just look at them. They aren't like you or I, haven't grown up too fast, still innocent. They don't understand what is happening to them or anyone else. Do you think they care that you are being trained for battle? The battle they should be fighting? Do you think they will truly care if you die in the Final Battle? If you don't succeed in destroying You-Know-Who and die, you will go down in history as the one that failed. They won't care that you died in battle or brought them fourteen years of peace, only that you failed them. Why give up everything for them?"
Harry stood in silence, not knowing that Malfoy had left after his thought evoking speech. The chattering filled his every sense, enveloping him in a blanket of nothing. Conversations of the "cutest guy" or the nervous attempts at asking a girl out or the latest issue of Quidditch Monthly really didn't mean anything. These people weren't thinking of the dangers the world was in. They didn't care that they were sending an untrained kid off to save them all. A kid who didn't even believe he was ready. Even up at the Head Table, the teachers talked and laughed of pure nothingness as if nothing would happen to them or the students they swore to protect.
It disgusted him. It hit the core of his very being. As he ran from the Great Hall, one thought drove through his mind:
Were they worthy to be saved?
He was stuck in a dream, again. A controllable dream that pointed to one of pain and suffering of others. He was in the hands of some dangerous being. The one he would head up against in the Final Battle. Fate decided this, and none could change her mind. Though it was complete darkness, he knew there was another person in whatever room he was in this time; no more, no less. And this was proven as a signal sliver of light came in from a crack in the wall. Standing in the middle of the brightened area was Lord Voldemort, formerly known as Tom Riddle.
"Harry, Harry, Harry," the demon man said slowly, a small smirk on his face, "it is not good to look in other people's lives, you never know what bad would happen."
"How…?" Harry asked fearfully, backing up as much as he could, "You're not supposed to see me! You're not supposed to know!"
"Ah, but Harry, you should not have expected for me to not figure it out after awhile. Each of my Death Eaters were thoroughly checked, followed, and questioned of their loyalties to myself. However, news would seep out. Always wondered where this crack was."
As the Dark Lord passed the small cell room, the thought of Snape, their spy, flitted through his mind, though he threw it away quickly. There was the enormous chance that Voldemort could read his mind to find out the still hidden spy.
"It wasn't until I started searching through the room for any unexpected source of magical power that I even thought of you being the spy. Truly astonishing it was to find. I wonder… how did you pull this off? Some spell, perhaps?"
"And you're thinking I would just tell you?" Harry asked in true teenaged fashion, crossed arms and all. "You must think I'm an idiot to even ask that."
"It was worth a try," he answered, dusting off an imaginary speck from his clock, "Just praising an outstanding piece of magic, don't mind me. Professor Dumbledore must be proud."
He would, wouldn't he…?
But no, he just smiled that annoying smile with that ever persistent twinkle in his eye. You would think that after all that he had been through that the Headmaster would give him a little credit. A little congratulation was in order. What did he get? A few points for first year for doing the old man's job of keeping the school safe! A little pat on the back as he saved both Ginny and Sirius from unmistakable death. And a whole year of being ignored when the true problems started accruing. Who could he turn to now? Sirius is gone, no thanks to him… Remus can't handle life enough to deal with a teenager's problems… Ron and Hermione just don't understand the pressures of his life… And a prophecy claims he is the one to save the world…
Alone…
"It doesn't have to be like this, Harry," Voldemort asked, surprisingly caring. "You could always give up the burden the world has given you. You don't have to go through with this."
"And let you just kill me?" Harry asked, though he didn't really feel that that would be a reason to fight.
"It doesn't have to end that way, Harry. You could always just come with me, and I'll take care of everything… I'll take care of you."
Harry didn't answer. He just stared just over Voldemort's shoulder, though you could tell that he really wasn't seeing anything. The thought of just letting go surrounded him, lifting him up, and bringing him to a life of bliss. No pain occurred, nothing but peaceful bliss...
"I'll be waiting for you, Harry… In the Chamber of Secrets…"
He was back in the world of the living. Back in the room of loudly snoring and restless roommates that he had lived with since first year. There wasn't anything that could prove that the dream was real. It felt so life like, but then again so many of his fake visions were.
You don't have to go through with this…
He stood up, removing any wrinkles that were manageable, and walked out of the Gryffindor territory with the aid of his trusty invisibility cloak. The shadows reached out at him as he traveled the halls as quiet as a mouse and the suits of armor stared accusingly. Portraits of all scenarios imaginable watched curious of the boy that traveled their domain quite frequently.
It doesn't have to be like this, Harry…
A rumbling sound ricocheted off the walls, though not a single speck of dust was moved. It was coming from inside the walls… At least that produced credibility in the dream he just had. But he didn't know for sure if he enjoyed that fact. Voldemort was in the castle, how remained a mystery. Except, this time he didn't entirely know if that was necessarily a bad thing. The thought of just giving everything up flew around in his mind happily. To just give into the pressure and drop the packs seemed a more enjoyable route. Who decided he had to be the one to save the unthankful population of fools afraid to say a name? Who threw it at a kid?
I'll be waiting for you, Harry… In the Chamber of Secrets…
The Chamber of Secrets... a place Harry hadn't been to since second year, and wasn't actually planning to return until this moment. But it was slightly comforting that he had somewhere to go if he ever needed just to run away. And at this moment, the key to a life without all the problems of this one was standing there waiting for him to accept. He could get rid of the troubles that have followed him like a love sick puppy since he first entered the wizarding world.
I'll take care of you…
Yes, that is what he would do. Harry started down the corridor that led to the girl's bathroom occupied by one depressing ghost. He would go down to the chamber and finally take a new life… one that he should have had in the first place… one where he doesn't have to fight an adult's battle. No more having to fight for people who he doesn't even know. No more fighting for those who put him in the hell formally known as the Dursleys. No more. That's it, no more.
With a determined step in his pace, he wove his way through the castle on the quickest way he knew. This continued right until he got to the Great Hall. It was here that he truly felt as if he belonged anywhere. Yes it was also the place where he unknowingly signed his contract of saving the wizarding world, but it was also much more than that. He was able to look up into the headmaster's face and see some sort of caring in it. The world had changed from this place of hate that he had been forced to go through in his childhood.
You could always just come with me, and I'll take care of everything…
But he had been smiling when he had said it. The Dark Lord smiling in itself was a clue to run far away, but he didn't really catch it when it occurred. There was something wrong, terribly wrong. Nevertheless, Harry wanted what Voldemort promised to give him… a life without the entire burden. Was that too much to ask?
Would it really matter, though? If he was to go to Voldemort, and the Dark Lord was not being frank with his option, surely the death would be swift. Avada Kadevra is painless, isn't it? At least that is what everyone had said. Or if he somehow escaped death as he had as a baby, there are numerous other spells that could be cast his way to end the seemingly endless torment he calls life.
This was the crossroads, his final decision. Would he take the risk to go to Voldemort, or continue on his deadly road for victory?
But then it was settled, he continued on his way, his decision made up. It was the best way, to his knowledge. Yes… it was the best way… It's worth it. He didn't know that at his destination that the man he had to talk to knew everything. And with a twinkle in his eye, said, "Good job, Harry, good job."
