Disclaimer: Not mine, JK Rowling's. I only enjoy messing with them. Spoilers for HBP.
A Kiss Goodbye
He was the Chosen One.
Only, he wasn't. At least not ours.
I still remember his innocence. So long ago... How his eyes sparkled when he'd first seen Hogwarts. How he smiled at me when we survived our first battle – against a mountain Troll. The chessboard, the diary, the Time-Turner... No matter what Fate decided to throw at us, we persevered, and we were not changed by what we endured. Evil couldn't taint us – it couldn't touch him. The scar he bore hadn't marred his soul.
Innocence... Such a beautiful word...
Through the years, he changed. We all did. We had to. The war had clawed its way into our lives, the threat of Voldemort becoming all too real for us.
Sirius died. I think something broke in him that night, when he saw his godfather disappear behind the Veil. A piece of his soul was touched, blackened. He grew up, too soon and yet not fast enough too avoid Voldemort's next plan.
Then, Dumbledore's death. He was there, caught in a Stunner when the greatest Headmaster Hogwarts had ever seen was blasted from the Astronomy Tower.
Avada Kedavra, Killing Curse, green light, green eyes.
A fire haunted those eyes when we started searching for Voldemort's Horcruxes. A need for revenge, a hunger, a dark desire to kill, murder, destroy... The whole inferno of these emotions was fixated on one man, the traitor Dumbledore had once taken under his wing. Snape.
We found Snape.
He said he was sorry. That Dumbledore had asked him to do it. That he'd promised him.
Harry didn't listen to him. It turned my stomach what he did to our one-time Potions Master. It still does, everytime I think of it.
His hatred for Snape had us worried for a long time, even before we found the traitor. Dumbledore's demise had ripped away another piece of his innocence. Snape's murder charred the remains.
The fire burning in his eyes died the day Snape did. A fire that burns too hotly, is quicker to fade into ashes.
That was all what was left of his emotions, in the end. Ashes and dust. Dust and ashes.
He took care of the next Horcrux with more ease than I, personally, would have thought him capable of. The spell he used was one we'd read about, but hadn't dared to use before. Very, very Dark Arts. It wasn't the last time he used something like that.
It seemed that something had expired in Harry's soul, but something else was rising to the surface at the same time. I wasn't sure I liked this change. There was nothing we could do about it, however.
Around that time we managed to end our Animagus Training. Harry's shape came as a big surprise. It was against all laws of magic, not that he cared about those.
He said it wasn't so surprising, if you thought about it. Destroying souls. Drained of all emotions. And the darkness, that awful darkness that lingered everywhere he went...
The last Horcruxes we found were easily disposed of. Harry simply turned into his Animagus shape – a truly chilling sight – and sucked the pieces of Voldemort's soul from the objects. In a way, it was more nightmare-inspiring than Snape's ending.
The final two Horcruxes. Nagini was taken care of the same way as the others. Voldemort himself, however...
Not many of the remaining Order Members survived the Last Battle. Not only the Aurors participated, nearly everyone old enough to hold a wand had to fight for their survival. Voldemort had become stronger, his Death Eaters more numerous. Ron fell at Wormtail's hand. Remus, the only one who might have had a chance to stear Harry back to the Light when this was all over, was crushed by one of the giants Voldemort used. Ginny's throat was cut by Draco Malfoy.
Harry was no match for Voldemort. The Death Eaters were easy, for the power of the Chosen One, but the Dark Lord had years and years of experience in the Dark Arts. Harry was losing. His wand was snapped in two.
Whatever held him back before, was gone. Harry used the magic he didn't need a wand for.
Freezing cold rippled through the air when he turned into his Animagus shape.
Voldemort had laughed at him. Called him a foolish boy. Said a creature of darkness and despair would surely obey the Dark Lord, and if he didn't, there were spells that could be used on him.
Little did he know. No one, except perhaps Harry, noticed how the Dementors, allied to Voldemort, had ceased their attacks. They were all drifting silent in the air, their eyeless faces staring at the one specimen of their kind who could see.
Eyes the colour of Avada Kedavra, fixated on Voldemort. Then, so quickly, Harry descended on the Dark Lord. Their lips met.
Voldemort's empty shell dropped on the blood-soaked battlefield.
Harry turned to us. He changed back, only he couldn't. Not entirely, not anymore.
His eyes were empty when he Kissed the remaining Death Eaters. The Aurors. Everyone. No Patronus could stop him. Who didn't flee lost their soul, to their saviour or to the other Dementors.
For he had been destined to destroy Voldemort.
He was the Chosen One.
Chosen to set the Dementors free from the Ministry's meddling. To let the reign of Darkness begin.
I didn't run when I saw what happened. Logical as always, I knew it wouldn't help much. Perhaps those who'd survive today could live for a while. Perhaps, if they went into hiding, and were lucky, there would still be some wizards left in a hundred years.
I saw the battlefield, my friends fallen, my family dead. What had I left to live for?
Eyes the colour of Death caught my gaze. I smiled softly, ignoring the urge to flee. There was no place I could flee to.
With a finger I traced the lightening bolt on his skin.
So many scars, so much pain and sadness and anger... If only I had been able to make his life a bit easier. Perhaps he hadn't been lost to us, then.
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
A hand came up to stroke my hair. His mouth curved slightly, becoming a sad smile.
"Don't be."
A Kiss goodbye.
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