Even Destiny Has A Sense Of Humour
Disclaimer: My name is not J.K. Rowling. I don't own anything to do with Harry Potter, except a copy of each book.
Chapter One. Absence of Emotion / Now you feel.
The water surrounded Harry. It flowed gently around his body, lapping gently above his head; those few yet vital inches between him and life-giving air. He didn't know how long he had been under. It felt like forever and only a second all at once, when he knew that it could have only been two or three minutes .He wasn't sure if this was real. Was it just a dream? A nightmare? He hoped so.
His lungs began to ache and burn as the desire for air became a desperate need. He embraced the pain though. After Voldemorte's return, Fudges denial and Padfoot's death, Harry had begun to embrace any way of feeling anything through the numbness. Even his Uncle's beatings.
As blackness began to encroach on his vision Harry reached up and grasped the handles on the sides of the bath and began to sit up to get out of the frigid bath water. His oxygen deprived brain misjudged and his wet and cold-numbed hands slipped and he fell back. He felt the previously caressing soapy water invade his eyes and also his lungs, as he gasped in surprise.
As consciousness rejected him Harry's last thought was that he would now see Siri and his parents again. He gave off a weak, distant smile. As he embraced the dark, Harry stilled, and slowly, so did the water. The last ripple died away with the decreasing flutter of Harry's heart.