His Eyes
By S'Eleene Paris
Rated: K
Pairing: Harry Potter and Hermione Granger
Synopsis: Part one of a series of fan fictions known as the Window to the Soul (a collection of one shot short fan fictions). What happens after the war ends and the world is safe from Voldermort? How does Harry cope with the loss of his best friend?
Disclaimer: If I owned the Harry Potter series, I wouldn't be writing fan fiction now would I? It belongs to J.K. Rowling, though. I suppose Warner Brothers is to mention, but we'll stick with Jo because she came up with the idea.
A pair of almond shaped orbs darted across once was a battlefield. Once dripping with blood; once dripping with tears. Behind those eyes, memories surged from years past. Of much a happier time: a
time filled with childhood bliss.
Rain drizzled down from the steal gray clouds above. The owner of the eyes glanced upward and although the sky threatened to open up and pour down its contents upon him, he didn't care. The rain was a good match for his mood. As the rain sprinkled harder, he pulled his cloak tighter around him.
The man just stood there; embellishing the words upon the marker into his brain. Here lies Ronald Weasley…
For some reason, he could never read beyond his best friend's name. As if reading the rest of the tombstone would make his death any more real than it was.
Thunder clapped in the distance and Harry James Potter knew the storm would be there in a matter of moments. Even though this thought weighed heavy on his mind, Harry stayed rooted in front of his best friend's grave.
It had been his fault, even though Ron had insisted to follow him on the hunt to find the remaining pieces of Lord Voldermort's soul. Hermione Granger and several others followed too, even though he insisted on going alone, but none of them died because of his orders. Ron had trusted him and Harry lost the gamble. After sealing Ron's fate, Harry witnessed his best friend's death as his nemesis' hands murdered him.
As Harry closed his eyes, he could hear Ron's screams as he was pinned against the wall, powerless to stop Voldermort from killing him. As Ron died, the image of shear terror glazed his eyes. Terror he could have prevented only if…
Harry turned, disgusted with himself. As he headed toward the gate, tears trickled down his cheeks.
When he arrived home, his wife was in the study. More than likely, she was studying for her healer's examination and too engrossed with her books to notice his arrival back home.
Harry flung himself carelessly on to the couch and for what seemed like hours he laid there silently watching the shadows on the wall. They performed their time long dance with the energy from the candle lit flame.
Hermione Potter had opened the door to her study determined to go out in the now full brewing storm in search of her missing husband. She had already donned her outer cloak and was already at the door, when she noticed his presence in the living room. She entered pensively; saying nothing to him. She only took note of his emerald green eyes, now completely bloodshot from a combination of weak light and tears.
The fate of the world had once rested upon the shoulders of the man who now laid his head on the back of the scarlet velvet camel back sofa. His eyes were fixed on the shadows on the ceiling. Even though only candlelight, and the occasional flash of lightning lighted the room, his eyes transfixed Hermione.
She often read the eyes were the window to a person's soul. Many of times she looked into someone's eyes and she just knew what the person's heart was like. The Death Eater's eyes were obviously cold. Many of her friends usually stated their mood, but Harry's eyes were the most fascinating.
Behind his eyes she found the still eleven-year-old boy just learning about his magical abilities. The same boy, the following year, killed the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets and even more years later kissing her sweetly after she confessed her feelings for him.
Now those eyes were filled with sorrow and loss. Not really knowing what else to do, Hermione broke the silence. "You know you never would have been able to keep him away. He never would have let you on the battlefield with out him. None of us would have."
"I still could have stopped him from dying."
"How, Harry? You were trapped against the wall next to me. There was no way you could have broken his hold on you before…" Hermione trailed as tears began dripping down her face. "You tried, Neville tried, all of us tried to get to him, Harry. We just couldn't. Don't blame yourself, Harry. You know Ron wouldn't have."
When Harry didn't respond, Hermione crossed the room and wrapped her arms around him. The duo became silent again, but when Hermione looked over at him, she saw something in his eyes she had not seen before in a long time. Hope.
End.