Isn't Someone Missing Me?
By: Emeraldragon (formally known as Ashie)
Summary: After Harry's battle with Voldemort, Harry dies and meets Persephone, the guardian of the afterlife. She bargains that Harry can be brought back to life if he can find one person whose life was completely ruined by his death. Harry's soul sets out on possibly his toughest mission yet.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry or any of his co-characters. They rightfully belong to JKRowling. The song, "Missing" belongs to Evanescence.
Isn't Someone Missing Me?-Pt. Two of Four
"Harry, Harry! No, no, hold on, hold on, Harry. Harry! Open your eyes, baby! Look at me! Look at me, Harry!" Draco's breath came in short gasps, tears clouding his vision. Harry opened his eyes, but they didn't seem to be registering what was being seen.
"I love you, Dray." Harry whispered. "I love…you…. Don't…." Harry's breathing was horribly labored, and his eyes were rolling into the back of his head.
"Don't what, Harry?" Draco sobbed, shaking Harry. "Don't what, baby?"
"Don't…cry." With those last words, Harry breathed his last breath, and he died.
"Where the hell am I?" Harry growled, for what seemed to be the hundredth time. He seemed to be in some type of fog. All he could see around him was the same gray mist, swirling and parting, only to reveal more of the same mist. Harry had been walking for ages, and he still had yet to see anyone or anything.
Harry was becoming horribly irritated. He had always believed that when he died, he would be in a beautiful place, surrounded by the ones he'd loved and lost, and having the ability to watch over those on earth. He never dreamed that he be in such a dull and depressing place, completely alone.
Harry sank to his knees, and pounded his fists on the ground. Or where he imagined the ground would be, technically there was no ground, just fog.
"What do I do? What do I do? I promised…I promised Draco I'd stay with him…." Harry closed his eyes, picturing the look on Draco's face as he died; the tears, the look of absolute despair. It cut Harry's insides to pieces. He never wanted to see that look on Draco's face ever again.
Please, please forgive me,
But I won't be home again.
Maybe someday you'll look out,
And barely conscious, you'll say to no one,
"Isn't something missing?"
"Gods, Draco. I'm so sorry." Harry felt tears drip down his cheeks. He sat back on his legs, and was horribly startled to look up and see someone watching him - his mother.
Harry's breath caught. "Mum?" he questioned, disbelief clouding him. Lily smiled, tears brimming in her eyes.
"Harry…. I've waited for so long…." Lily whispered, and Harry instantly jumped to his feet, and hugged his mother for the first time in his entire life, and death.
"Mum, where am I? I need to go back, I have to watch over Draco!" Harry cried hysterically, feeling like a small child, weeping into the crook of his mother's neck.
"I know, I know. Listen to me, Harry." Lily pulled Harry gently off of her, and held him at arm's length. "This is not death. This is the gate to the afterlife. You are lingering here, because you have something you need to do. Am I correct?"
"Yes, but mum, I don't understand. I'm really dead, aren't I?"
"On Earth, yes, you are. Time is much slower here. To those on Earth, you've been dead for over a month. But here, you're not truly dead yet."
"I'm not following you,"
"Those that die on earth, but still have things they have to finish on earth, are brought here. Persephone, the guardian to the after life, resides here. If you wish to return to earth to set things right, you need to see her. She is the only one that can send you back."
"How do I find her?"
"I'm here to take you to her." Lily smiled. "I fought with your dad over who would get to take you, and I won." Harry couldn't help but grin. "Shall we get going then?"
Harry nodded, and took his mother's hand.
Harry and Lily walked through he mist for what seemed like hours to Harry. But for once, he didn't mind. He was content, talking to his mother about his life, and how his dad and Sirius were holding up. He had a huge smile on his face, and laughed at his mother's good humor.
"We're here, Harry."
Harry looked up, ogling at the tall stone pillars that seemed to be growing out of the mist. They were heavily decorated with shining black gems, and carved with random beast and creatures. A few yards ahead were a set of large stone steps that led into a temple.
Lily gave him a slight shove. "Up those stairs is where Persephone resides. Explain everything to her, and be courteous. Tell her your full request; I've heard she's very mischievous. You don't want her to find a loophole in your explanation."
"Yes, mum."
"Well, good luck then."
"What?" asked Harry, slightly bewildered. "You're not coming with me?"
"Harry, even if I could, I wouldn't. This is something you need to do on your own. This is your life. I'm already done with mine. If you want to spend your death on earth, there is nothing I can do to help." Lily smiled sadly, tears brimming in her emerald eyes. "I love you, Harry."
Harry took his mother in for a hug. "I love you too, mum. I'll see you again, won't I?"
"Of course. Did you think I'd be letting you try and leave if I didn't think you were coming back?" Lily laughed. "I haven't seen you your entire life. Don't think I'll be missing your entire death too." She winked. Harry gave her a kiss on the cheek, and began his trek up the stairs.
"Good luck, Harry!" Lily called, and Harry waved to her. Seconds later, Lily had disappeared.
Harry walked into the temple, warily looking around. The temple looked deserted; the walls were barren, and the only thing in the entire place was a throne against the back wall, high on a pedestal and made entirely of the same black stone that was all over the pillars.
"Hello?" Harry called, his voice echoing off the walls. "I'm looking for someone named Persephone?"
Harry received no response. He started to walk away when he heard a giggle behind him.
"My, you're much cuter in person, aren't you?"
Harry quickly spun around, seeing a young, beautiful woman lounging in the throne. She had dark hair, set in majestic curls that flowed to the square of her back. Her eyes were as brilliant as Harry's, but a deep purple. Her skin was milky, and she was wearing a purple medieval robe. She was sitting sideways in her seat, with one leg over the arm of the chair, revealing the black-strapped sandal she was wearing. She was staring at Harry hungrily, her ruby lips pulled into a flirtacous grin.
"Are you Persephone?"
"The one and only," she replied haughtily. "And you're the legendary Harry Potter,"
Harry blushed crimson. "I'm not legendary; please, call me Harry."
"Okay, Harry." Persephone smiled and straightened herself in her throne. "So…let's get down to business, shall we? We both know why you're here."
"You do?"
"Of course I do." Persephone sighed. "You're here because you promised your little lover boy that you'd watch over him, and you never knew that you were restricted to this world when you died. Correct?"
"More or less," said Harry gruffly. He didn't like the way she referred to Draco as 'lover boy,'.
"So, in your own words, what have you come here to wish of me? Now, be specific, I might get confused and mess your wish up," Persephone winked.
"I want to be able to return to Earth, to spend the rest of Draco's life with him."
"Hmmm…now, do you want to be a ghost, or alive?"
"W-what?" Harry stammered. "You can bring me back to life?"
"Well of course! I am Persephone. I don't sit here day after day for the rest of eternity for my health, you know. I am basically all powerful."
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't know. So you'll bring me back to life on earth?"
"If you want,"
"Wait a minute." Harry debated over the reality of his request. "This is too easy. What do I have to do in return?"
"You certainly are the brightest spirit that has ever come to me; no one ever thinks that I want something in return. Depending on the request, I assign tasks at various difficulties.
"For instance, if your wish was to just return to earth as a ghost, I'd ask you to bring me something that belonged to Merlin, or something of that nature."
Harry's eyebrows rose. "That's impossible!"
"No, it's not nearly as hard as you think. But calm down, that's if you wanted to return as a ghost. You want to return to life. So I have a different mission for you."
"Which is?"
"Well, I've taken a liking to you, Golden Boy."
"Call me Harry." he growled.
"Either way, I've taken a liking to you. So, your task is this-
"I will return you to earth as a human, but you won't be in your own body. You'll know who you are and of your past, but you'll have no memory of those important to you. Yes, including your lover."
"His name is Draco!" sighed Harry.
"Yes, yes, I know. Now, back to my point. You'll have no memory of those you knew. Your task is to find someone who's life was completely shattered, ruined, devastated, crushed, by your death. You need one person whose life was dramatically changed for the worse, because of you. Understand?"
You won't cry for my absence, I know.
You've forgot me long ago.
Am I that unimportant?
Am I so insignificant?
Isn't something missing?
Isn't someone missing me?
"I think so," whispered Harry softly.
"Now, just because someone cries twice a day over your death, doesn't mean that their life was ruined. It has to be dramatic."
"Right,"
"So if you find someone, you'll have to come back to me and let me know. If I approve, you'll be brought back to life."
"How will I come back here?"
Persephone sighed. "You'll have to die again. Whether you get killed or kill yourself, that's the only way you'll be able to come back .The living can't enter here."
"And, about being brought back to life. Am I going to get my own body back, or will I be reincarnated or something?"
"You're good, very good. I could've had a lot of fun with that, you know. But oh well. I'll tell you what, when you return, I'll let you know."
"Fine," Harry grumbled.
"So, it's settled then. Do we have a deal?" Persephone held her hand out to Harry. Harry reached forward and grabbed her hand.
"Deal,"
"See you later then, Golden Boy," Persephone smiled, and from their connected hands shone a bright light. Harry shut his eyes, letting the light wash over him. His last thought before he disappeared was,
Please don't let me forget about Draco.
Harry opened his eyes wide, and breathed for the first time in three earth months. He was lying in a large, comfortable bed in what seemed to be the Leaky Cauldron. He sat up, taking in the familiar surroundings.
Harry slowly stood up from his bed, and heard something fall to the floor. He reached down and picked up a small box. He opened it, and revealed a small note and an amulet. The amulet was silver, and in the center was the same black stone that was all over the pillars in Persephone's temple.
Harry carefully unfolded the note and read,
Harry,
I know it's hard to find my temple, so just make sure to be wearing this amulet when you die to return strait to me. This amulet is very important-put it on now and never take it off.
Harry quickly put the silver chain over his head and tucked the pendant into his robe. After making sure it was hidden from view, he continued to read the note.
Also, I figured I'd give you a push in the right direction. Go to Hogwarts and speak with the Headmistress. She might have and idea of where your past acquaintances now reside. Good Luck, Golden Boy!
Persephone
Harry finished reading the letter, and quickly dropped it as it burst into flame. He looked around the room, making sure he had no belongings to take with him, and began to walk to the door, seeing his reflection in the mirror on the wall.
He was tall and very tan, with a perfect body. He wasn't as skinny as he used to be, but had a much fuller appearance, with a nice muscular physique. His face was gorgeous, and reminded him of Most Charming Smile Award model. His hair was a golden brown, and slightly messy.
What startled him the most however were his eyes. They were the exact same ones he'd had before he died. The almond shape and emerald green irises were entirely too familiar.
Harry cursed Persephone under his breath. He looked just like himself before he died, just slightly taller, and with a different hair color. He dreaded the thought of causing suspicion when he met with his former friends.
With an irritated sigh, Harry wondered what he should call himself. Using Harry as a first name would be easiest, but would just be too much similarity between his past and present self. He definitely couldn't use Potter as a last name.
He thought about it for a few moments, and decided that James Evans would be best. That way he still had a slight connection with his true self, and didn't give himself away. After all, James was a horribly common name, as well was Evans.
Slightly more confident, Harry walked out of his room, his destination-Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Harry slowly walked over the threshold into the castle. He cast a quick glance down the corridor, and shut the door behind him. He leaned up against the cold brick wall breathing heavily as a wave of memories rolled over him.
"We could all have been killed – or worse, expelled." snapped a girl, whose face was clouded, to Harry and a boy next to him, face also concealed.
"I don't think Potter liked your valentine much!" spitefully yelled a young boy, his face obscured, and watched as a girl ran into a classroom, her hands in front of her face.
"You helped uncover the truth. You saved an innocent man from a very terrible fate." said a faceless man quietly.
"He showed, in every respect, the sort of bravery that few wizards have ever shown in facing Lord Voldemort, and for this, I honor him." A man with the same voice as the previous memory raised a goblet.
"Harry, suffering like this proves you are still a man! This pain is part of being human –" said the same voice again, this time with a sense of desperation and sorrow.
" No one can help me. I can't do it….I can't….It won't work…and unless I do it soon…he says he'll kill me…." sobbed a boy, bent over, tears sliding down his clouded face.
"I love you, Harry Potter. I love you more than anyone or anything in this entire world. I just need you to know that before you leave." whispered the same voice.
"Er…can I help you with something?" someone asked, and Harry looked down to see a girl about his age with flaming red hair. Harry looked at her carefully, trying to see if he knew her, hoping memories would come to him again. "Are you okay?" she asked him, looking slightly worried.
"Sorry, yes, I'm fine. If you don't mind me asking, what is your name?" Harry asked, hoping he didn't sound strange for asking. The girl gave him a curious look.
"I'm Ginny Weasley. I'm a Seventh Year Gryffindor."
"Hello, Ginny. I'm James…James Evans. I'm here to see the Headmistress, but I don't know the password to her office."
"Well, that doesn't matter, she wouldn't be there anyway. Professor McGonagall is teaching Transfiguration right now. I can take you to her if you like."
"That'd be great," Harry smiled at Ginny appreciatively. She began walking to the staircase nearest her.
"This way,"
A few minutes later, Ginny knocked on a door, and then opened it. Inside, Harry saw McGonagall reprimanding what seemed to be a first year for accidentally turning his partner's nose into a button instead of his quill.
"Professor?" Ginny called. McGonagall looked up. "There's someone here who'd like to see you," Ginny moved out of the way a little so that McGonagall could get a better look at Harry. She nodded once and came forward.
"Class dismissed," she called over her shoulder. "I want you all to begin working on that essay I assigned yesterday." She stopped in front of Harry. "Thank you, Ginny. You can return to your class."
Ginny gave a nod and walked away, peering over her shoulder as she went. McGonagall held out her hand to Harry.
"I'm Minerva McGonagall, the Headmistress here at Hogwarts. You are?"
"James Evans," said Harry, at once seizing her offered hand.
"And what can I help you with, Mr. Evans?"
"James is just fine, Professor. Actually, it's a bit private, so if you have time it'd be great to talk about things elsewhere."
"Of course," she said. "I assume my office will be appropriate?"
Harry nodded, and allowed McGonagall to lead the way.
"I don't recall your name, were you a student once here?" she asked conversationally.
"Yes, er…no. It's complicated."
"I see," she stood in front of the stone gargoyles that guarded her office. She mumbled the password, and the gargoyles sprang aside, revealing a revolving staircase. They both stepped onto it, and were soon standing in front of a door. McGonagall opened it and walked inside, sitting down behind her desk.
Harry walked in after her, and took the preferred chair opposite her. He was startled as a great Phoenix swooped down from its perch next to the desk. It gave a small croon and blinked up at Harry.
"How peculiar," whispered McGonagall. "Fawkes has never shown interest in anyone besides his former owner, and Harry Potter."
"Is that right?" asked Harry, trying to get back to business. "Well, I guess you could say that's why I'm here."
"You're here because of Fawkes?" McGonagall asked, bewildered.
"No, Harry Potter."
"What about Harry Potter?"
"Please forgive me, but I cannot tell you the entire reasoning behind it-"
"And why not?"
"Well, for the first part, it would take a long time, and there's no point in me telling you because you wouldn't believe me anyways."
"Go on,"
"To put it in simplest terms, I was given an assignment – a very important assignment – to find out all I could about Harry Potter. Or, more specifically, the aftermath of his death."
"Who gave you this assignment? Are you a reporter of some sort?"
"No, I'm not a reporter, or a journalist, or anything of that nature. I was given this assignment for a life or death situation."
"Life or death situation? You mean to tell me that if you don't find what you need, someone's life will be at sake?" McGonagall's lips thinned considerably.
Harry nodded. "Exactly,"
"This makes no sense to me, Mr. Evans. None at all. No offense, but your story sounds very suspicious. What makes you think that I'd give out that kind of information? Or better yet, why would you think that I'd know?"
"I was told to go to you first. I know that Harry's class recently graduated a few months prior, and I'm sure that you'd know best who Harry's friends were, and where they are now."
McGonagall frowned at him. "Mr. Evans, let me be completely honest with you. My pupils are very important to me, even those that have already graduated. It was very difficult for many of them when Harry Potter died. I understand that the situation you say you are in very serious, you haven't given me a lot of reasons to go ahead and divulge information to you. However, I will give you the benefit of the doubt, and help you begin. I will give you then name and address of one of Harry's best friends. However, I will also be informing him of our little meeting today. If he decides that he does not wish to speak with you, then you are on your own.
"I give you a warning though, Evans." McGonagall cast him a threatening glare. "If you harm them, in any way, physically or mentally, I will not think twice about having you sent to Azkaban. Do we understand each other?"
Harry smiled broadly at her. "Perfectly," he said. McGonagall then pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill, and wrote down the name Ron Weasley, and below it his address. She handed it to him wordlessly.
Harry took the parchment form her, read it over, and tucked it into his robe. He stood up from his seat and held his hand out to her. "Thank you very much," he said. "And don't worry, no harm will come to them. I appreciate this," McGonagall shook hands with him. He turned and walked out of her office, and then out to the grounds. He walked as far as the grounds went, and then apparated.
Harry looked up at the strangest house he had ever seen. A small wooden sign, spelling 'The Burrow' was in the front lawn. Harry made his way up to the house, his borrowed heart thumping in his chest, his hands nervously clenching and unclenching. He stood before the door, took a few calming breaths, and knocked. He heard hurried footsteps from inside the house, and then the door swung open.
A slightly plump red-haired woman with a kind face stood in the doorway. "Hello," she said with a smile, "You must be James Evans,"
"Yes," Harry said, holding out his hand. The woman took it.
"I'm Molly Weasley, dear. Come on in, make yourself at home."
"Thank you Mrs. Weasley," Harry walked in, and molly closed the door.
"No need to be so formal, Molly will be fine," she pointed to a chair in the kitchen. "Go ahead and have a seat, and I'll run upstairs and tell Ron and Hermione that you're here."
"I'm sorry?" Harry asked, perplexed. "Hermione?"
"Oh yes, Minerva probably didn't know that Hermione was here. Hermione and my son, Ron, were Harry's best friends. She's visiting this week. I'm assuming that you'd like to see her as well?"
"Oh yes, that would be great," Harry smiled, not believing his luck thus far. Molly left him alone then, and Harry sat at the table, looking around at the cluttered kitchen. Dishes were washing themselves in the sink, and a large pot was sizzling on the stove.
A strange noise was echoing from the corner, and Harry turned in his seat to get a better look. It was a clock, but instead of having two hands, it had twelve, each with a separate name. Instead of pointing to numbers, they rested at destinations like, Home, Work, School, Dead, Mortal Peril, Traveling, and others. One hand that said 'Harry' was swinging madly back and forth, never resting on a single place. Harry frowned.
Harry noticed that Ron's, Hermione's and Molly's switched from Home to Traveling, and Harry instantly heard footsteps coming from the stairs.
Molly walked into the room, and two teens walked in after her.
Ron was tell and lanky, with the same shocking red hair as his mother, and sister, Ginny. Harry assumed that all of the Weasleys had that hair color. His eyes were blue, and he had dark circles under his eyes. He had a nasty looking scar stretching from the corner of his forehead down over his left eye and ended on his cheekbone. He simply gazed at Harry curiously, but behind him, the girl, Hermione, gasped and said, "Oh my,"
Hermione couldn't keep her puffy, brown eyes off Harry. Her hair was long, well past her shoulders, and wavy. She was holding Ron's hand, and Harry saw what appeared to be an engagement ring on her left hand.
Harry stood up and held his hand out to Ron.
"Hi," he said, and swallowed. "I'm James, James Evans." Ron shook his hand quickly, and then Harry shook Hermione's. "I really appreciate you both allowing me to talk with you,"
Hermione smiled at him. "You look an awful lot like Harry,"
Harry didn't know how to respond to this, so he just smiled. No one said anything for a moment. Harry looked nervously at Molly, and she seemed to notice the tension.
"Have a seat you two," she said gently, steering them to a chairs opposite of Harry. They all sat down except Molly. "Well, I'll be upstairs, let me know if you need anything." She smiled down at Harry, patted Ron on the shoulder, and left.
The room was tense a few more moments, and then Harry sighed. "I know this must be…difficult, for the both of you, and I want to apologize. I'm not particularly enjoying this – stirring up Harry Potter's death just mere month after the battle. Just understand that what I'm doing is very important, and that if it wasn't I wouldn't be here."
"We understand," said Hermione. Ron just nodded.
"So, with that done, let's get started, shall we?" Ron and Hermione both nodded. "Well, I suppose we should start from the beginning. What happened after Voldemort –" Ron gasped and Hermione flinched, "- was killed?"
"I thought you wanted to start from the beginning?" Ron asked, looking confused. "Harry died killing Voldemort, everyone knows that! What would you possibly need to know about after Harry died?'
"Everything," Harry said. "You see, I don't need to know about before the battle or during it, all I need to know is how his death effected everyone."
"Why?" Ron asked, his ears going red. "Why would you need to know how everyone felt about it?"
Harry bit his bottom lip. "I'm sorry, but I can't tell you why. I just need you to trust me,"
Ron mumbled something under his breath and folded his arms across his chest. Hermione cast a stern look over at him.
"Okay, James. After Voldemort was killed, Ron and I discovered Harry's body and Draco near-"
"Draco?" Harry asked. "Who's Draco?"
"Draco Malfoy," Hermione said. "Surely you know who he is?"
"No, I'm sorry, I don't. Should I?"
"Well, it's just peculiar, that's all. Draco is almost as famous as Harry himself. Draco Malfoy is the son of Voldemort's most trusted Death Eater. Draco was forced by Voldemort himself to find a way for the Death Eaters to get in to Hogwarts in our sixth year. He succeeded, and Dumbledore was killed as a result. However, because Draco was not the one who killed Dumbledore, as he was told to do so, Draco was punished. He was tortured by Voldemort, and then was forced to watch his mother be killed.
"After that, Draco ran away from Malfoy Manor, and went into hiding. He was found by members of the Order of the Phoenix, and was hidden. He was given Veritaserum, where he said that he was not on the Dark side, although he did have the Dark Mark. He pledged his allegiance to the Light side, and swore to avenge his mother by killing his father.
"When seventh year came, he was secretly taken to Hogwarts. He became Head Boy, so he was protected from the other Slytherins with his own room, and they obviously couldn't touch him during classes. He was basically safe.
"Meanwhile, Harry was strangely distant with Draco. They had grown up hating each other, and Harry had suspected Draco's plans to help Voldemort get the Death Eaters in Hogwarts. Ron and I were curious as to why he ignored him. We honestly expected Harry to attack Draco the second they laid eyes on each other. But they acted as though the other didn't even exist. We questioned Harry about his behavior, and Harry explained that he pitied Draco, to an extent. Harry had been there when Draco had cornered Dumbledore, and knew that Draco was threatened into helping Voldemort.
"Eventually, Draco came to Harry and explained the situation even further, and Harry forgave Draco. They put their past differences aside and became friends. Soon after that, they started dating." Hermione closed her eyes for a moment. Harry took all the information in, slowly filling in the missing pieces of him memories.
"So Draco Malfoy was Harry's boyfriend. He was the one that found Harry's body first, I assume? And you then found him with Harry's body?"
"Yes," whispered Hermione, and sighed. "It was terrible. Harry was covered in blood, and Draco was holding him. But it was strange…"Hermione said, narrowing her eyes in thought.
"What was?"
"Well, for one thing, Harry wasn't wounded. There wasn't a single scratch on him. And yet, he was bleeding profusely. He was lying in a puddle of his own blood…" Hermione took a shuddering breath. "It was the most horrifying scene. Even Draco, who had been holding Harry for a short time, was covered in his blood. We asked Draco about it later, but he wouldn't tell us anything. He said not to worry about it." Hermione shook her head. "And for another thing, Draco never cried."
"Draco never cried? At all?" Harry asked, an eyebrow quirked.
"No," Hermione said. "I couldn't stop crying for days….Ron cried, too. We all did. We all still do. No one could understand it. Draco and Harry were unbelievably close, and yet no one even saw Draco shed a single tear. He eyes were never red, or anything."
"He didn't even cry at the funeral," Ron grumbled. Harry frowned.
"So, it obviously was very hard for everyone, then. Well, except for Draco, it seems."
"Have you ever lost anyone close to you, James?" Hermione asked. Harry shook his head. "Then you can't even possibly imagine to horror of it. It's indescribable. It's nearly impossible to feel anything other than sadness. When you do manage to stop crying, it doesn't help. And when you finally are able to smile again, you feel guilty, thinking that you shouldn't even be allowed such things when that person isn't even able to live."
"Is that how you both felt?"
"No," Ron stated simply. "Worse," he stared up at the ceiling, as if he was trying to hide his face from view. "It's been about three months, and I still wake up every morning, and check the date, hoping that the battle never happened. I think to myself, 'What would I be doing now if Harry was still here?'.
There was silence for a few moments, and the only sound that could be heard was the clock in the corner, the hand labeled 'Harry' still swinging. Hermione seemed to notice Harry looking at it.
"Mrs. Weasley added that hand to the clock on Harry's 17th birthday. He said it was the best gift he had ever gotten." A smile spread on Hermione's face. "Ever since he's died, it hasn't stopped swinging. Even though it's foolish, it gives us hope."
"Hope?" Harry asked.
"Yes. You see, we, like everyone does when they lose someone, are always looking for some sort of sign that that person isn't really dead. Even though we saw his body, and watched him be lowered into the ground, we still see his face wherever we go. We hear his voice…he talks to us in our dreams." Hermione wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "So you see, we like to think that Harry isn't dead, and that's why the clock hand won't land on 'Dead'. We know it's foolish…but it gets us through the worst of our days."
Harry nodded, a sad smile on his face. "Has there been a positive side to his death, in your eyes?"
Hermione looked at the table, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Well, Voldemort's dead, so that's a plus, obviously. But besides that, I can't think of anything else."
"I can," said Ron suddenly. He reached over and held Hermione's hand. "In his will, Harry left a portion of his money in Gringotts to me. I spent most of it on this ring, and proposed to Hermione." He smiled at her. "Without that money, it would've taken me years to save up enough for it."
"Congratulations," Harry said.
"Thank you," said Hermione.
"Is there anyone else who might be able to help me, that you know of?"
"Well, that depends," said Hermione. "We still don't really understand what you need to know."
Harry contemplated on how much he should tell them. "I need to find someone whose life was completely ruined by Harry Potter's death."
"'Completely ruined'?" Hermione echoed.
"Yes," Harry raked his fingers through his hair. "Would you say that either one of you qualify?"
Hermione and Ron looked at one another.
"No," Hermione said finally. "It's so hard to say this. Harry must be cursing me in his grave." She shook her head sadly. "While Harry was our best friend, and no one will ever be able to replace him in our hearts, our lives are not ruined. Ron and I will be married, have a family, and live our lives out to the fullest. We will always miss Harry, but we will live our lives as if he was still here."
Harry smiled, and a warm feeling spread throughout him. He wished he could remember them, the people that cared for him so much. "Don't worry," he said. "If Harry was here, I'm sure he'd be very happy to hear you say these things,"
Hermione nodded. "Is there anything else you need to ask us?"
"Did he have any other good friends? Maybe someone who took his death a lot worse than you?"
"The only other person I can think of is Draco. Ginny dated him in our sixth year, but it didn't go very far. She reacted to his death just as we did. Then there's Hagrid, but he's traveling…no one knows exactly where he is. Neville was killed…Cho too…and Luna. I can't recall anyone else. Sorry,"
"No problem." Harry thought things over for a moment. "I will go and see Draco Malfoy, I guess. Do you still talk to him?"
"Yes, we occasionally go and check up on him. He's…very anti-social." Hermione frowned. "He might not let you speak with him. He's very stubborn, but you might have a chance."
"Where does he live? Malfoy Manor?"
"Yeah right," said Ron. "After he killed his father, he took all of his inheritance, sold the Manor, and moved into a little flat in wizarding London."
"Can you give me the address?"
"Give me a moment. I'll use the fireplace and ask him," Hermione stood up, and walked over to the fireplace. She took a pinch of Floo Powder, threw it into the fire, and shouted, "Number Twenty-third Hughstang Lane!"
The flames turned green and rose above her head. She got down on her hands and knees and stuck her head into the fire.
A few moments later, Hermione still hadn't come out. Ron eventually looked to Harry. "You know…she's right. You do look a lot like him." Ron shook his head. "It's going to be hard to convince her…"
"Convince her about what?"
"When mum told us that you were coming, she told me that she's been waiting for someone like you. She's convinced herself that Harry would never have left all of us here without. She said, 'I can't see Harry working his whole life to be free, just to die as soon as he achieves it,'" Ron put his face in his hands and took a steadying breath. "It's hard, you know? She's always been the smartest, always top of her class, always the best. It's hard to see her like this, completely expectant on the impossible. I hate having to tell her different, because deep down I know I wish for the same thing. And now, after all this…."
Hermione's head suddenly popped out of the fire. "He's so difficult!" she growled, as she wiped ash off of her face. She brushed the dust off her pants and sat back down.
"How'd it go?" Ron asked.
"Fine, I suppose. He says you can come," she said, meaning Harry. "But I'll warn you now, today is definitely one of his bad days. He's horribly angry about this. It was only with my persisting that he agreed to meeting with you."
"Thank you," said Harry. "I appreciate your help."
Hermione smiled at him. "Don't mention it." Harry stood up from his chair.
"Well, I suppose I should head over there. I need to do this as soon as possible."
"Of course," Hermione stood from her chair, as did Ron. They walked him to the door.
"Tell your mum thank you for me, Ron." Harry said, turning to them.
"Sure thing," he said. He held out his hand. "Good luck, James."
Harry smiled and shook his hand. "Thanks, Ron," He then held out his hand to Hermione, but she just grabbed him and gave him a hug.
"Thank you, James," she whispered.
"For what?" Harry asked, taken back.
"For everything. It felt good to talk about him," she let go of him, and stood next to Ron. They held hands.
"Bye, then. Thanks again," Harry began to walk away, but then turned around. "And…don't worry about him. I know that he's fine, and he misses you both very much," and before either of them could respond, Harry disapperated.
Even thought I'm the sacrifice
You won't try for me, not now.
Though I'd die to know you love me,
I'm all alone.
Isn't someone missing me?
Hermione and Ron stood in the doorway for a moment, looking at the spot where Harry had just stood.
"Ron?" asked Hermione quietly.
"What is it?"
"Do you…do you think that maybe, just maybe –"
"You know what, Hermione?" sighed Ron, giving her hand a small squeeze. "I think you may actually be right…."
End of Pt. Two
To Be Continued…
Author's Note: Well, I hope the song was included correctly…it was a bit difficult to incorporate it into the fic. Instead of it being solo at the end or beginning. But ah well, I did the best I could. My hits for the first chapter were in the hundreds, but I only received eight reviews. :tear: Let's see…can I get a total of twenty before I post part three? Just think…half of this fic is already over! Thanks for reading, hope you all enjoyed it. Byes!