Aftermath

Disclaimer: I know that you know that this story isn't mine. Maybe it will be some day…

A/N: Thank You for all of thewonderful reviews (Two of them!). I am so very happy. Here you are now:

Chapter Two

Harry sat on a large, black, leather-bound chair, head resting against the windowsill of the window placed above him. His knees were brought up to his chest, and held closely to him, to his heart, was Christian. The baby slept silently, its tiny hand clutching the soft, dirty material of Harry's sweater, as its cheek pressed against Harry's chest, as if looking for a heartbeat for reassurance that Harry was really still there, and wouldn't leave yet. Harry placed one finger against the child's cheek, stroking it softly, and humming quietly. But his eyes didn't leave their place. He was transfixed with the sunrise.

The sunrise was something Harry couldn't miss. It was his only hope; His only hope that he wasn't the only hero. The sun was a hero every day, conquering the darkness in little time. It conquered every day, and never did it fail. Never did night stretch longer then what was necessary, because the sun would always come to a rescue.

Sure, the sunset made Harry realize everything that had happened. Every time he sat on this same chair, sometimes with Christian in his arms, other times with Christian in his crib beside the chair, he was thrown forcefully back to reality. He was the sun. He had conquered the darkness. He should have faced his fears, and risen up in the open, like the sun usually did. He should have declared his victory. The sun had. Even if the sun killed away the many beautiful twinkling stars, and hid away the moon, it still rose proudly. Why couldn't he? He killed many death eaters, so why couldn't he stand proud and declare safety for all?

That was simple. It was for the same reason these last few days, the sun had taken a liking to hiding behind the many clouds, some of rain, others of smoke. He was afraid. He needed to hide behind something because he knew he wasn't pure. Just as the sun knew it wasn't pure.

Of course, the wizarding world and the muggle world wouldn't care. He would be given so many awards and such for his bravery, just as the sun was rewarded for helping the plants grow, and creating heat. But he didn't want it, because he wasn't pure. The sun didn't want it because it wasn't pure. They both had done it because it was their duty. The sun rose everyday because that was its destiny. Harry had killed Voldemort because it was his destiny.

He shuddered. Didn't it haunt the sun? Didn't the sun always shrink back for a few hours, and let night conquer? Didn't the sun feel guilt?

No, of course not. Unlike the sun, Harry was plagued at night with so many nightmares, and so many memories, he was always reduced to nothing but a sobbing helpless child. Christian would then begin to whimper and cry also, as if he understood the pain.

But didn't the sun shrink away too? At night, when Harry did? Did it go and hide every night because, even though it should be resting, it was haunted by the mere thought of its destruction? How in some places it caused droughts, it caused cancer, it tainted the atmosphere, and it killed beauty? It killed, wasn't that enough to make anyone shrink away?

Christian began to stir quietly in his arms. He gurgled softly, and turned. For a moment, he stopped, almost in panic, and rested his tiny ear against Harry's chest. And then he giggled softly, almost happy that the beating of Harry's heart was still there. Harry couldn't have asked for a more touching display of love. Gently, he picked up the baby, and blew a weak raspberry against his stomach, and Christian's giggles filled the room.

"I'm glad you're happy." Harry said hoarsely. His throat still pleaded for aid, and for healing, but he ignored the rather apparent sting, and instead went in search of a baby bottle and milk.

Ten minutes later, he was back on the same chair, with Christian suckling contently at the warm milk bottle which Harry was feeding him. Harry found the child so beautiful and so innocent. It was his only connection to freedom and to love. Harry had killed for a reason. Even if Christian was the only child on Earth left, it was worth it. Innocence would rise and conquer. He had created a second chance for Christian

Tears found their way down Harry's cheeks and onto to Christian's. He giggled, drinking the last of the milk, before wiping away the crystallized tears that had landed on his cheek. His emerald eyes looked up at Harry, and upon seeing that Harry was crying, wrapped its tiny arms around Harry's arm, and cuddled against Harry's chest.

"Christian. Never change, please. You're my only hope. I know it's hard. I've brought you into this hell, but please never change. You're keeping me alive." Harry muttered thickly, more tears staining his cheeks, as he gently stroked the baby's hair.

Christian cooed in response.

When the screams from the distant died, some five hours later, a haunted silence filled the room. Harry was kneeling on the floor beside his "contemplating chair", his hand pressed firmly against his ears, and his eyes tightly shut, as he tried to block out all sound and sight.

His mind swam with visions of his past. Even as he pulled his hands away from his ears, and pressed them firmly against his eyes, he could not rid himself of those images. Fire roared around him, people were screaming and pleading for help. The earth was stained with vibrant red, as if an artist had splashed blood red pain all over the ground; As if it had been raining blood moments ago. Some people stood wands at the ready, showered in blood, barely conscious, and yet fighting. Giants were falling, dementors were swooping through the area, animals were roaring, and children were screaming.

Harry shot his eyes open. The children, all of them, were screaming, pleading and dieing. He felt his stomach plummet to the ground, and a new voice rang through his ears from deep within his mind.

'They die. The children, the babies, they died, and still die. You are selfish. You sit here doing nothing, and every minute one more child falls dead. At who's hands? At Yours. This is your fight, and you must fight it.'

He felt as if someone had just token a blow at his stomach. All of his breath rushed out of him, and he found himself gripping his ears once more, trying to drown the sound of his own conscience.

'Why not throw Christian away too? Or is he the only child who deserves to live? Of course. You are selfish. Your love will be your downfall. Let them all die. I hope you have the guilt of thousands of babies' lives at your hands. You killed them. Not Voldemort, not his death eaters, you did.'

"NO! SHUT UP!" Harry screeched hoarsely, as he let his head fall forward. He was reduced to a helpless heap on floor, sobbing hysterically trying vainly to stop his conscience from taking him over.

A cry interrupted him from his internal battle. With a hesitant whimper, Harry looked up, bleary eyed, letting his hands fall to his side. Christian was crying from another room within.

He got up slowly, ignoring his body as it ached, his mind as it pleaded, and his hands as they shook. He walked into the small room he had assembled for Christian. A small crib in the middle of a room, with a table against the wall, holding a small bag of baby things, and a night light, was Christian's new room. He walked over to Christian's crib, just as a spark of pain shot from one temple to the other again, and looked over the crib.

Christian lay curled in one corner, sobbing loudly. His bright green eyes shone and brimmed with tears, as he looked up at Harry. His crying faltered, and reduced to helpless whimpers, as Harry spoke.

"Shh. It's okay, Christian. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up. I was just angry. Come here." Harry cooed. He reached over the crib, and picked up his son, holding him closely to his chest.

The child, at first, stopped crying, before wrapping its small arms around Harry. It snuggled its head against Harry's chest, before suddenly stopping. It attempted to wriggle free of Harry's grasp, pushing at Harry's chest with its little hands.

"Christian?" Harry muttered, almost letting Christian go in shock. Christian continued to squirm in Harry's grip, almost desperate to get away from Harry.

"Christian …what…" Harry trailed off, slowly placing Christian back into his crib. Christian immediately shrunk back into the far corner.

"Christian, what is it?" Harry asked, his stomach beginning to churn. He smiled, and slowly extended his hand as if to pick Christian up once more, but Christian whimpered loudly, and covered his face with his small hand.

Harry's vision began to swim, and with his free hand, he gripped the edge of the crib to steady himself. What was going on? Why was Christian doing this?

Taking a steady deep breath, Harry tried once more.

"Christian it's only me. It's daddy. Everything's okay. Come here, sweetie." He reached out his hand, which shook violently, but the baby began to tremble and cry, trying desperately to get away from Harry's hand.

Harry's world began to blur and swim dangerously. A loud buzzing filled his ears, and his knees felt weak. He clung on to the crib for support, staring wide eyed at his son.

"Christian …" He managed to say weakly. He fell to his knees, both his hands now clinging to the cage of the crib.

"No, no, no, no, no…Please no… Christian not you too. Don't do this to me…please…" Harry gasped, his shoulders beginning to shake, as tears streamed down his face.

Christian looked at Harry, his green eyes shining brightly. They shone with hurt and disgust and pain. Slowly, Christian nodded his head with a whimper.

"Christian." Harry gasped out. His body completely shut down, and his hands let go of Christian's crib weakly, sending him crashing to the ground. The last thing he saw was Christian and his eyes. Those piercing emeralds, told him all he needed to know.

In the distant, Harry could hear someone whisper.

"You killed them. Not Voldemort, not his death eaters, you did."

And he was plunged into total darkness.

A/N: Constructive Criticism is my best friend!