~ Harsh Farewell ~
Of course everybody understood Harry's wish to fight this battle alone, 'cause all his friends, acquaintances and even the folk who barely knew The Chosen One somehow had accepted his altruistic nature. Or at least that was what they imagined being the reason for his refusal of anyone joining him.
Hermione flattered herself that at the end Harry will come to terms and realize that he simply needs help of his devoted friends, so she would not press the matter. At least for now.
Ron was too dumbfounded by the last events to even discuss such merits. Well, Ron wasn't the brightest bulb in the tree anyway, so that wouldn't be a surprise.
And Ginny was simply too angry and too full of her resentment to try and argue with the love of her life. She thought that it is again Harry's turn to consider everything, realize that he's being a moron and crawl back on his knees.
Oh, but none of them could have imagined Harry's true plan of action.
It was clear enough that he is the one whose duty it would be to kill the all time greatest dark wizard. And of course he could ask his friends for help once again, only this time they would get murdered for sure, so The Boy Who Lived had decided to not only fulfill his purpose or die trying, but to save and protect as many as he could and especially those few he cherished and loved.
Love. Harry almost hated this word, this concept. With true abomination teenager recalled all those situations he was reminded of this unexplainable idea of love to have saved him. All he knew by now was that everybody who used to love or at least care for him died. They were all goners. His parents, his god-father and now even Dumbledore. Not even mentioning all of those who just tried to protect him and whom he didn't even get to know.
The bloodshed had to end. And the only way how to implement that was if he acted on his own. If he was to stay here with everybody else and kept leaning on those several shoulders offered to him, he would just jeopardize them. As long as people crowded around all he could do was hide behind their backs. And now the only "back" potentially strong enough to shield him was gone. Gone forever. Now nobody could possibly help Harry and that was why he had to leave.
Most likely he would have been considered mad if anyone heard what the boy was about to carry out. He was sure as hell that no-one would agree to the strategy. More than that, they surely would lock him up somewhere if they found out and that left Harry even more alone if that's possible 'cause he could not even share this with anyone. The biggest and maybe the most painful argument probably would be - Dumbledore would have never agreed to this! He understood that quite well himself but then again his all time favorite guardian wasn't here. Not anymore. And that was Harry's own fault. But by the end of the day this grate wizard whose burial was held just a couple of weeks ago admitted himself that he wasn't always right and almost every time it came to the boy reached the wrong decisions. So, who says that Albus should be right with not endorsing Harry's chosen path? None could have answered this question and that was the reason why the plan seemed more and more proper.
With great grief Harry realized that the day when he's supposed to leave inevitably neared, so he has to operate faster otherwise even more people no matter wizards or muggles would suffer. And all because of him. Young boy got almost sick every time he heard about another death. One more sacrifice. One more crime committed by death-eaters who were all out there looking for him and him alone. But that's why his plan was so good. It would at least stop this seemingly endless war and chaos. Due to the fact that he was about to simply turn himself in. But first there were a few things he had to do before the depart and frankly speaking Harry simply wanted to enjoy those last days with everyone he knew and that was why he tried to smile and cheer everyone up. At least he would be remembered with a hint of gladness. That had to be enough.
At the particular moment they were at Weasleys place. Like, where else he could possibly be? And to a great joy of his almost everyone was there as well. He took pleasure in any company nowadays and was delighted about any communication whatsoever.
- Harry! – Mrs. Weasley's voice called him back from reminiscing. – Harry, darling, are you all right?
- Yes! Yes, of course, Mrs. Weasley!
And he beamed like a true sunshine.
- Oh, I guess you were just lost in your thoughts, - she smiled timidly. – We were just talking about you.
- Really?
Harry played dumb. Of course they were talking about him. Whom else.
- So, what is your verdict? – He inquired with a voice of a child just before Christmas.
- Umm, I don't know actually, – middle-aged woman stumbled. – Harry, how are you feeling? Are you all right? You seem like . . . Like . . . Too happy.
It sounded more like a question. And literally in a second this topic brought a heavy shadow upon boys face. So much for carefreeness. The Boy Who Lived bitterly thought to himself.
- Oh, dear, I didn't mean it that way, honey! Please don't misunderstand . . .
The look on her face seemed pretty desperate, but Harry stayed cold and quiet. He felt too tired for this. Tired of questions, sympathetic but still unpleasant looks fallowing him wherever he went, whispering and predicting. Harry was watching people gathered around the table with sadness. Why couldn't they just let him be?
- Seriously, mate – this time it was Ron, voicing everybody's concern, – you're acting weird. It's kind of creepy, you know.
As soon as redhead was finished with this short explanation he got back to stuffing food down his throat still not looking at the friend, 'cause he knew what kind of gaze would he meet once he lifted up his eyes. That would be one of those half angry half miserable looks with a hint of sadness and pain in it. Ron hated that look that's why he returned to champing, slurping and similar staff to avoid any eye-contact.
That gained him a disrespectful stare from Hermione who on her behalf turned in her seat to face the subject of the conversation.
- Harry, you have to understand, – that sounded annoying, – we are worried about you and when you seem so carelessly exalted . . . That just seems suspicious, because you're not exactly in the position to . . .
- In what position I'm not into? – Harry suddenly spat. – So, you say, I'm not entitled to have any good time or a scrap of happiness just because somewhere out there is a freaking maniac wanting to kill me. Is that right, Hermione?
A deep dreadful silence fell on the room.
- No, you know what, I'm f-king tired of this bullshit! I've kind of noticed how everybody's worried about my wellbeing and always fussing over me. I am not f-king blind and I'm not an idiot either. I've realized the situation way before anybody else. Way before our grate magic world started believing me. They have happily forgotten how they called me a psycho and a liar, but I haven't. And now I have to care about everybody else's feelings? When was the last time anybody cared about how I feel? When was the last time you or anyone for that matter asked me - hey, Harry, how do you feel? What do you think about all this? Nobody ever gave a shit. They're there just to tell me what to do and where to go. Meet this professor, say this, act like that. This is important and that is important. Everything's so important. Everything but me. Haven't any of you considered that it is up to me how to take care of Voldemort? Once you all stick to the belief I'm the Chosen One. Dumbledore on the evening he died told me, that this prophecy thing is bunch of bullcrap. There is no such thing. Voldemort created it for himself when Snape told him what he overheard while listening to Trilony's and Dumbledore's conversation. And he f-king believed it! All time greatest dark wizard believed to a silly story of an alcoholic and created a myth of a boy who will once kill him. That is a freaking fairy-tale! Nothing more. And now because of that I have been really chosen to be an f-king scapegoat. Just by a mere mistake he vanished the night he attacked my parents and me. He simply fucked up and my mom died but I lived. F-king Boy Who lived. That was my mom's credit, not mine. And I'm no hero, I'm not a savior and probably I'll die while fighting this battle which is not even mine. So, pardon me for being so careless, but I've simply stopped giving a shit.
By placing his fork firmly next to the half emptied plate Harry stood up and paced out of the kitchen. Everybody else stared at each other in complete silence and stupefaction. No one could quite embrace what they've just herd.
Meanwhile our young rebellious wizard in the attic started to pack his belongings. It was clear as day that after what he had just said he couldn't have stayed here. It was time to leave. He remembered well enough that before leaving Dursley's there was an arrangement made that he would return for the one last time. And that was what he was about to do. Strangely enough but for the first time Harry didn't feel disgusted at the thought of going back to his so called relatives. At least they would not make a fuss about him being too happy. They would leave him alone and be quite glad about his departure. It should make things easier.
He stopped in his pace and had a look outside the window. It seemed so peaceful outside. A light evening breeze was rustling the leaves of nearby trees. Quiet mist was coming up from the ground covering the rich green grass and small funny flowers. For a split second Harry wished he could transform into one of the gnomes living in Mrs. Weasley's garden. Just quietly nuzzle in the soil and look for earthworms to eat and not to worry how the hell to save this bloody world from Voldemort's wrath. Soft knock on the door brought him back to reality and attic's room drowning in twilight.
- Yes! – He called out.
Door slowly opened and a face with a big truss of curly brown hair showed up.
- Oh, Hermione, come in.
But at the same time he kept on with packing.
- What are you doing? – She asked fearfully.
- Packing up, – Harry stated the obvious and smiled sadly.
- Why, Harry? Where on earth are you going?
- Home. Well if one can call that place home.
- That is where? – Hermione sounded shocked. – No way, you mean Dursley's?
- Yes, that is exactly what I mean – he replied voice full of ignorance.
- But why on earth would you go there? Haven't you always said you hate them?
- I don't think I'm capable of hating anyone anymore. Well, at least not more then I do hate Snape. And that is the only place where I'm not going to be killed straight away and nobody else will suffer for that matter. At least nobody I do care about and you know what happens to people whom I care about.
He laughed dryly at the sad irony his life was. Then he threw a side glance at the girl still standing in the door frame. Her eyes were twinkling like little stars. Unfortunately that was because of the tears in them.
- Hermione, – Harry sighted. – Dear God, don't! I'm barely hanging there my self.
And he went over to the poor friend of his and hugged her. Obviously that wasn't a best thing to do, 'cause she sobbed even louder and threw her arms around his neck. A good thing was her hair was now tickling his face so instead of starting to moan for himself Harry quietly chuckled.
- Hermione, stop, please, stop your hair is tickling me.
She pulled back with a sad smile like expression on her face tears still rolling down the cheeks.
- Harry, oh, Harry, what will we do now?
That was more of statement then a question, so the boy simply took her by the shoulders and shook a bit.
- Listen, Hermione, you all will be much better off without me. Seriously, you know that's truth. They will chase me down no matter where I'll hide and they will kill anyone standing in the way. I could never forgive myself if because of me . . .
- You are truly a moron, – she whispered still sobbing. – Don't you get it, we don't want to stay here and be saved without you. Or even worse, sit here and do nothing, while you are out there fighting against all of them alone by yourself. Don't you know why the friends are for?
- Hermione, stop this. Nobody else has to die because of me. That's enough. And I'm not alone. Even the f-king Ministry of Magic is on my side now. I might be the best guarded person ever. Well, apart from Voldemort of course. God damned we have so much in common, – he added with a smile.
- But we have always done it together . . .
- Yes, and I'm incredibly grateful for that. If it weren't for you and Ron I would have been dead long before now. But this time it's different. He's after me. And me alone. There is something I possess or have inside of me that he wants and he wants it so badly he will order to kill anyone to get to me. And I guess he has, 'cause I've had enough and I'm about to put an end to this.
- Harry! – With pure terror in her voice she cried out. – What are you about to do?
There it was. The moment when he could have told his friends about the plan. But on the other hand, that wasn't an option because they would never agree. Still it was too late to say nothing at all.
He let her shoulders go and turned to face the window again.
- I'm not sure yet, but one thing is clear. I have to make him leave everybody else alone and concentrate on me.
- And how exactly do you plan to do that? – She groggily whispered.
- I said, I'm not sure yet, but I have a couple of ideas.
- What ideas? – Loudly asked Ron who had just entered the room.
Harry spun around at the unexpected racket which his voice seemed to be comparing to all this silence and Hremione's whispering.
- Whoa, when did you get here? – He played a surprise.
- Doh, what did you think, that I'll leave you alone after what you said?
- No, I guess I didn't expect that. Is it just you two or the rest of them are standing behind the door as well?
- No silly, of course it's just us. Everybody else thinks that you have tough time coping, so you should be left alone for a while. But you not going to trick me with throwing tantrums. I know you have something up your sleeve.
That made Harry smile. His friends really knew him well. And although it got tiresome every now and then it was still cute. So, he pulled himself together and encouraging himself with the thought that even Dumbledore trusted them told what he had in mind.
Of course Hermione was against. As much as Ron was in perplexity. But Hurry was certain.
- Once it was possible before, it's gonna work now.
- But haven't you considered that he can influence you through that?
- Yes, yes, I know.
- You know what, exactly? Don't you understand, that he can change the way you think, feel, and perceive? That was exactly what he managed to do the last time. Have you forgotten?
Harry barely glimpsed at her.
- No! I have not forgotten that because of my gullibility back then the last one of my relatives got killed. No, Hermione, I haven't.
- Oh, dear, I didn't mean to . . .
Actually she was at the loss of words. That was almost incredible how he managed to turn every aspect of a conversation against the one.
- Just forget – Harry helplessly sighted. – I know what you mean and believe me I will never ever either forget or forgive myself for that. But there is one good thing about what happened.
Hermione's eyes clearly said that she is unable to see any gain from the event.
- You see, back then I childishly believed into an illusion Voldemort tossed. I didn't even give a second thought to what I saw and he knew that emotions would get the best of me. I had proved it a couple of times already. But that only proved that the link between us is amenable. And he succeeded just because I was a fool and Snape was an asshole who didn't even want me to learn Occlumency. But the thing is, that once he managed to get to me I can get to him as well. What ever kind this connection is, it's two-sided. And now it is my turn.
And with that the boy sneered the way nobody had ever seen him do before.
- Fuck, mate, you reminded that ferret Malfoy just now. Don't do that again.
Ron shook off the image of his most hated schoolmate.
- Don't do what?
And Harry frowned just like Draco would with the eyebrows close to hairline and corners of the mouth downwards which raised a laugh from the two.
- Damn that was close! – Ron called out in true surprise. – You've been studying him or what?
- Well, let's just say that I've seen his face up close way more than I would have liked.
Once again, image of Draco Malfoy raked up a seemingly old pain. Little twat! Harry thought to himself. It was his fault everything was the way it was now. Stinking dung-beetle! Should have used Avada-Kedavra on him instead of that mellow nugatory trick he stole from Snape's Mixtures book. Although . . . He clearly remembered how aghast he felt when the blood flew. Harry still could perfectly picture the horrifying sight in front of him. Malfoy's tear-stricken livid face just before he curled up on the ground. Unbelievably red and sticky jets of blood spurting out from his rival's chest. He remembered time slowing down or maybe even stopping. Unimaginable spine-chilling notion that he has killed another human being. Somebody almost like himself. No! Malfoy wasn't like him. Not at all. Really? And even so did that justify a murder? Is a murder in the name of a grater good less terrifying than the others? Is it ok to slaughter people if they constitute a menace to the world as you know or want it?
- Harry!
- Whoa! What? – He almost jumped.
- Were you trying it right now?
- Trying what?
- Connect to You-know-Who?
- No, of course not.
Hermione shrug her shoulders cause when it came to Harry everything was possible and at any time so why not now for example.
- So . . . When are you going to . . . to do . . . THAT? – Ron wanted to know.
- I don't know. Probably when I'll arrive at Dursley's.
- But you are not supposed to you know do magic outside school grounds unless you're old enough.
He laughed at that.
- Believe it or not, but there's no magic involved.
- What do you mean? How then . . . ? – Again Ron was unable to grasp the situation.
- You see, it happens without any magical interference. I don't need a wand or a potion or actually anything apart from my head.
- Wow! – The redheaded friend gasped. – And you say you're no hero. I couldn't do such a thing for example. Could you do such a thing, Hermione?
The girl gave him a kind but at the same time compassionate looks and added:
- Ron, honey, you are a bit of a moron after all.
- What? – He was infuriated. – And why is it so? Is that really so easy to do that only a complete softy wouldn't be able to?
Hermione hung her head but Harry laughed again.
- No, Ron, it's not what we meant. What we mean is a simple process of thinking when you concentrate on something or somebody, so, you don't need any supplementary aid. And it's no magic. Haven't you ever sort of felt what another person is feeling or thinking? It's just a notion, but it's there.
Ron still seemed absolutely clueless what they were talking about.
- Muggles for example call it the sixth sense which suggests a hint of something paranormal in it, but to say the truth all there is, is just intuition or instinct. It's an ability of any normal living creature and humans especially, but it has nothing to do with magic whatsoever.
Hermione's explicit explanation seemed to strike, but still some confusion lingered.
- Oh, Ron, it's just like your mom's clock. You know it tells her is anyone in danger for example.
- So?
- This feeling or sense is pretty much the same thing only you don't need an actual tool to realize it.
- Oh . . . but still . . . I don't quite understand how this feeling will help you to connect to You-Know-Who.
- Well . . . This connection between me and Voldemort is way stronger than this sensation. Remember, I told you guys that I can feel how he feels literally. I felt his anger or happiness like those were my own feelings. And I saw what he was seeing. Heard what he was hearing and so on and on. Got it?
- Ok . . . kind of.
- You see and what happened was that he understood it at some point. Voldemort realized that I can sense, see and hear whatever was going on with him or around him for that matter and he figured out how to make me perceive what he wanted me to not what was really going on. That's why when I saw your dad getting injured it turned out to be true but when it came to my god-father . . .
He went quiet for a split second to hold back tears which were climbing up his throat each and every time he was about to vocalize the fact that Sirius was no longer here.
- Well, that one turned out to be a fabrication which I fell for.
- Oh, – that was all Ron could answer to this.
- Yep . . . But let's not dwell on that. I have to tell you things way more important or things which can still be changed at least.
Hermione quickly switched to listening mode. And Harry for that matter told them about the last night he and Dumbledore were together, about the Horcruxes and about Voldemort's family history.
Story took a while, so from time to time Ron sneaked downstairs and grabbed something to eat and drink and on one of those walks he bumped into Ginny who on her behalf was quietly sitting in the very corner of the kitchen.
- Hell, you scared me, sis, – Ron whispered crossly.
She didn't reply and only then did Ron notice that she was sobbing. Very softly but unmistakably.
- Ginny! – He forgot about the need to be as silent as possible.
- What? – She tried to sound irritated, but failed miserably.
And when Ron's hand touched her shoulder she literally broke down in tears.
- There, there, – big brother he was suppose to be shushed her down.
- R-on, – she gave a howl, – he is leaving isn't he?
- Who?
- Harry of course!
Ron's lack of wit helped her to cope. So, once more only this time more collectedly she asked:
- Harry is leaving, right?
- How'd you know?
- I can feel it. I'm losing him.
Ron was speechless truly and utterly.
- Only this time . . . I will lose him forever, – she finished with true desperation in her voice.
- No, no, listen, why do you think it's all so bad. It's gonna be ok, you'll see. Just like always.
And he tried to smile to cheer her up but she answered with a simple wave of head like saying "no, it won't".
- So, what you're trying to say is that we should look for those Horcruxes while you are drawing his attention towards yourself? Is that right? – Finally asked Hermione with her eyes wide as an owl's.
- Yes, pretty much that is my plan.
- Mhm . . .
And exactly when she was about to start arguing again a quiet knock on the door rung.
- Come on Ron you don't have to knock, – Harry called out impatiently.
- But what about me? – came Ginny's slightly trembling voice.
All of a sudden Harry felt like electrified. She was the last person he was expecting despite the fact that this was her home after all. She almost soundlessly entered the room and closed the door behind her. Good old Hermione simply threw a side glance at Harry and then with no questions got up to her feet.
- Ok, I'll go downstairs to check on Ron otherwise he'll eat week's worth of food.
She smiled casually and reached for the doorknob. Ginny didn't make a sound and she shouldn't have to cause her eyes said everything already. Hermione gave her a warm smile and left the room.
- Good evening, Harry.
- Good evening, Ginny.
And then they stared at each other for a moment till she broke the eye-contact and went for the chair where just moments ago her older brother was sitting.
Harry had no idea what to say or what to do. It was obvious she's been crying, so, most likely she knew. In a way it was a relief. At least there was no need for him to break it down for her. But on the opposite, what was he supposed to say now? That he's about to go and fight the battle of the century and then make her promise to wait for him? Or maybe he should set her free? But Harry simply couldn't pluck up his heart and tell this sad girl, that most probably there's no point for her to wait for him, because he wasn't about to came back anyway. If he would allow himself to believe he's going to die that meant for the battle to be over before it has even started. No, no, he shouldn't think that way. But then . . . What else could possibly happen?
While Harry was actively arguing with himself, Ginny was the first to break the silence.
- So . . . What are you about to do?
- I don't think . . . – he mumbled.
- That I should know.
She finished the sentence even before her boyfriend managed to figure out what to say. And as he stayed quiet, it was clear she had hit the nail on the head.
- It's just so typical.
- What is?
- It's just so you.
She shook her head with a bitter smile on her face.
- You always think that by not telling things you're doing everyone some kind of favor. Haven't anyone told you that keeping people on tenterhooks is the worst thing ever?
And the girl looked into Harry's eyes with all the might she could master.
Harry had no clue where did this come from, but all of a sudden he spat out:
- And what do you want me to say? Do you expect me to explain a genius master plan how we're going to destroy Voldemort, to calm you down and say that everything's gonna be great? Or would you prefer me to tell you that I'm gonna die anyway, so it doesn't actually matter what we're about to do? Which one would you pick rather?
He could feel himself breathing heavily. And he could see pain and despair in Ginny's eyes. She was barely holding on. But Harry was too exhausted to care about someone else's feelings and needs. He couldn't allow himself to get all touchy. Emotions would simply tear him to shreds. He had to stay firm and strong. Maybe even cold. So he sighted and started again.
- You see, I don't know what to do myself. And nobody knows for that matter. Nobody has ever had to put up with something like this before, so . . . Who knows, maybe somebody will come up with a plan, maybe not, but most likely I will have to face Voldemort when the time comes and rely on dumb luck just like always. And then . . . Well, we will see what's going to happen then.
- But . . .
She tried to come up with something but failed.
- Exactly! There are no buts, there is nothing else left. This is the way it is. This is it.
Harry looked away, 'cause he knew what was about to happen next. And he was right. Ginny started to sob again. And so they were sitting in the room completely swallowed by darkness and trying to imagine how it's going to be. How does the end look.
Finally Harry stood up and neared Ginny stooped down and took her by shoulders which were shaking badly.
- Don't leave! – She forced out.
- You know I have to, – he quietly answered.
- No! Please! Stay a little longer!
- Gin, stop it – he added in conciliating tone.
She cried out and flung her arms around his neck. Harry felt his heart sinking but pulled himself together and locked tiny girl into tight embrace. When she pulled back their faces were just inches apart and he could smell the salt in her tears. Thank god, it was dark otherwise he would have cried as well but instead he pressed his lips against hers. For a split second an image of Cho Chang entered his mind but he pushed it back in order not to spoil the last kiss he was sharing with the only girl he's been close to. And most likely the last one he ever will be.