Chapter Seven: He Let Go
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Buffy walked on the sidewalk toward Giles's house. Her boots clicked as she walked, it was merry tune of clickage she decided. Tap, tap, tappity tap tap. She flipped her hair as she walked. It might have been night in the demon infested town of Sunnydale, but Buffy didn't mind. Tappity tap tap. She had to patrol. And, the patrols had been busy and stressful. But, she still didn't mind. Tap tap. Harry made her smile.
Not since the days of Faith, had Buffy had someone to share the load of patrol with. Oh sure, her friends went along as support, but when the fighting came it was usually up to her. They'd improved over the years, and if they worked together they could tackle a lone vamp...but she was always ready to jump in if she had to. And, she often had to. Not that she was complaining. They were the best friends in the world to help out like they did. But, she was the slayer.
She'd come to expect it over the years. The loneliness of being the Slayer. In her good moments, Faith had lightened that load. Buffy hadn't needed to protect the rouge slayer. A flicker of guilt ran through Buffy's stomach as she thought about Faith. She had hated her so much, but now...all she felt was guilt. Somewhere Faith was lying in a coma, maybe she'd never wake up. Buffy sighed. Best not to think about that. She had done what she'd had to do. It was a twisted logic that helped her sleep at night. And, she needed her sleep.
Buffy smiled as she saw Harry waiting for her on Giles's stoop. She wouldn't have to protect him like she did with the others. Even if his hand-to-hand combat skills weren't the best, he had magic. If he wanted to, he could burn them all into ash. He could do it while standing several feet away. And yet, he didn't try to take anything away from her. She bit her lip as she thought about that. Really, Harry could dust all her vamps, and she'd never have to fight. But he didn't. Harry seemed to understand that about her. No matter how much she might complain about her duties, no matter how often she dreamed of a different life...being the Slayer, it was a part of her. And Harry got that. He seemed to understand that it was something in her that needed that fight. It was her destiny.
"Hey, ready for patrol?" Buffy asked as she approached. Harry remained still, almost as if he hadn't heard her. His neck was stiff, starring into the cement sidewalk before him. Buffy's eyes narrowed as she took in Harry's posture. His back was ramrod straight, his hands grasped the edge of the porch so tightly his knuckles shone bone white. His eyes were actually closed she noticed. And his breathing, it seemed forced and deliberate. Buffy reached out a slender hand, and let her fingers move forward to brush through Harry's messy hair.
"Hey, you--" Harry's head snapped up. Buffy bit back a gasp. Harry's face seemed twisted. It was still his face, but it looked dangerous. And his eyes...there was something different about his eyes. Were they bloodshot? There seemed to be tinges of red amid the vivid green.
"Buffy?" rasped Harry. He looked away, his face staring off to the side. "Patrol, right. I...just a minute." Harry rose to his feet. He glanced back at her, and she was glad to note that he looked normal again. He stood still for a moment, his face staring blankly at the ground. Buffy watched curiously as Harry wriggled his fingers. For a moment nothing happened, and Buffy was doubting her friend's sanity, when to her surprise a slender sword, silver blade and gold tang appeared in his hand.
"Wow, that's gorgeous, where'd you get it?" queried Buffy. Her eye's ran the length of the blade, they widened when she saw the large rubies that were affixed to the handle.
"I thought I'd use it tonight, it's not being used hidden away in my trunk. It's the Gryffindor sword I told you about," explained Harry. Buffy nodded her head in growing understanding.
"Is that the one you killed the basilisk with?" asked Buffy. Harry nodded. "Did I tell you about the humongo demon/snake/mayor that I killed. I used a bunch of explosives rather than a sword...but to each his own." Buffy smiled as she spoke, but Harry didn't.
"Probably was the better way. I was dying when I killed mine, poison, if it hadn't been for Fawkes..." Harry's voice trailed off as he spoke. Buffy's mouth narrowed, but she didn't frown or look aghast.
"I died once," stated Buffy. Harry's face shot up, his green eyes meeting her hazel. "I drowned, if my friend Xander hadn't..." her voice grew silent. Harry continued to stare at her. Their faces locked in complete understanding. Finally Harry's lips quirked in a crooked smile.
"Quite a pair aren't we," said Harry. Buffy nodded.
"Harry are you sure you want to patrol tonight?" questioned Buffy. She watched his face carefully. "You seem a little off?"
"I'm fine." Buffy shot him a careful glare. "Really. I think it will help, burn off some of the... frustration," confessed Harry. Buffy nodded.
"Well why don't we make this a sword party. I'll just grab one from Giles." Buffy's voice was lit up in girlish glee.
"Sword Party?" teased Harry.
"What, you never been to one. You poor repressed wizard." Buffy grinned and Harry shook his head at her cheeky attitude. Buffy smirked and stepped inside.
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Buffy ducked into the house and crossed toward's Giles's weapon's cabinet.
"Hey Giles, mind if I borrow one of your swords, I don't want to troop all the way back to my place." Buffy was already rummaging through the weapons as she spoke.
"No of course not. Why do you need a sword, increased demon activity?" asked Giles's curiously, Buffy usually only patrolled with a few stakes. Giles watched as his slayer looked at several perfectly good swords, as if she was looking for something in particular.
"Not really, just the stuff I told you before. More organized." Buffy moved aside more weapons. Giles had to have something that was almost as cool as Harry's sword. "Ah!" Buffy said as she spotted a silver sword with decorative pewter tang.
"Is there a particular reason you needed the sword of the Cleome Clan?" Giles asked confused. She seemed to be evaluating the sword on some level.
"Oh...well," Buffy smiled a little as she spoke, "Harry's got this great sword. Gold handle with rubies."
"Yes, I've seen it when he organized his trunk," responded Giles still confused about why Buffy needed her sword.
"Well, come on Giles, he can't have a sword that it like a ton better than the Slayer's. What with the creatures of darkness think when we go patrolling and he has a much better sword. They'll think I'm an impoverished Slayer is what they'll think. Does this sword look okay?" Buffy examined the handle more closely, not really waiting for Giles's answer. Giles remained quiet for a moment.
"Buffy, " he managed to say. He paused again. "Is Harry going patrolling with you again?" he asked quickly.
"Yeah, duh Giles." Buffy gave the sword a playful swipe testing its balance.
"I've been meaning to talk about that with you, Buffy," said Giles in a stern voice. Buffy lifted her head and gave her watcher a curious look.
"What's with the mean face, and the 'bad Buffy' tone?" inquired a confused Buffy. Giles usually only gave her this stern face when she had done something really wrong. Usually she knew it was wrong too, and figured she deserved it but...she hadn't done anything.
"It's about Harry. I know you two have become friends, and not that being friends isn't a good thing...I just don't think it is wise for Harry to patrol with you," finished Giles. His arms crossed his chest, his eyes firm.
"Why not?' Buffy cocked her head, her expression honestly confused.
"Buffy, it is merely too dangerous. He's not ready. He's run headlong into this fight, and he isn't ready for it." Giles's had risen to his feet and was pacing before his chair as he spoke. Buffy stared at him open mouthed. Her eyes watched him, a bemused light flickering in her eyes. Harry? Harry not ready to fight? Harry was, in his magic way, as good a fighter as she was. And, he was picking up hand-to-hand fighting techniques amazingly fast. Also, Harry hadn't told her much about his life in England, but it was pretty obvious that Harry was used to battle. Was Giles blind? Buffy continued to stare at her watcher until the man paused and looked up at her.
"I know Willow and Xander have been helping you for awhile. But they didn't start out going on patrol with you. Harry's been here five days and you already have him fighting." Giles's voice lashed out at Buffy's bewildered smile. His tone made her frown. Buffy rose from her crouched position in front of the weapons cabinet, the sword hanging limply in her hand.
"Giles, what are you even talking about, how can you not know--" Buffy paused. Giles's recent devotion to his books. The sad expression that flickered in Harry's eyes when talk turned to Giles. It was all starting to be very clear. She'd sensed it before and hadn't wanted to deal with it.
"Buffy I--" Giles began to say, but his words were cut off.
"You don't even know him, do you?" asked Buffy her words soft and filled with hurt. "Have you even tried?" she demanded.
"This has nothing to do with my relationship with my nephew. This is about your duty as a Slayer," stated Giles.
"My duty. You should talk. This kid come half-way round the world and you haven't even taken the time to talk to him," spat Buffy, her eyes flashing with fury.
"Buffy I--" started Giles, but his words were cut off by Buffy.
"No Giles. It isn't me you need to talk to," Buffy told him. Giles began to pace, his motions jerky.
"Buffy?" a voice called into the house.
"Coming Harry," yelled Buffy. "We're going for patrol, I'll see you later Giles." Buffy spoke her last statement in a hushed voice. Her simple words trying to convey her meaning. But, as her eyes slid over her watcher's hunched form, she knew that he hadn't really heard her advice. Buffy sighed and lifted her sword to her shoulder as she walked out.
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Buffy met Harry outside with some measure of trepidation. Had he heard their conversation? But Harry wasn't on the stoop anymore. He was standing at the end of Giles's walkway, staring out into the night.
"A group of vampires crossed this way, going into the town," explained Harry as she approached. Buffy looked along the dark street.
"Well, let's go. If you're sure you're okay." Buffy gave Harry a careful glance. His posture still seemed different. More disciplined, his body in a battle ready stance.
"Yeah, I'm alright." Harry said. But, his eyes were focused down the street, where the vampires had disappeared. He was ready for a fight. Buffy sighed, perhaps that would be the best medicine.
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Harry and Buffy followed the cadre of vampires downtown. They had headed in the direction of the Bronze. Buffy quietly informed Harry about the dance club and why vampires might be attracted to the area.
"We'll want to try and get to them before they get inside. Once in, they'll probably split up and seek out their individual eats. It's much better to get to them outside."
"What about the people, won't that area be crowded?" questioned Harry.
"Don't worry about it. People in Sunnydale tend to forget what they see. Or, they make up some lame excuse. Once a bunch of vamps attacked Parent Teacher Night at school, my mom and a lot of people saw it. But, they just said it was a gang on PCP." explained Buffy.
"Oh, that must come in handy," decided Harry. He fingered his sword appreciatively. The cool gold handle felt good in his hand. His magic still bubbled and for once he hadn't been able to calm it. But, it wasn't raging. Just a simmering glow in the pit of his stomach. And perhaps there was a reason why he hadn't been able to calm it...for the first time, Harry wanted to let it out. He felt like he was stifling with all this magic inside.
Buffy and Harry picked up their pace as they hurried down an alley. Buffy nodded to Harry, and he tipped his head in response. Silently Harry disappeared. In an instant he was standing in front of the group. Buffy behind them, her sword raised. They had the five vampires cut off from each end. The vampires paused hesitantly at Harry's sudden appearance.
"Sorry folks, the snack bar is closed," quipped Buffy from behind, causing the vampires to turn in her direction.
"Slayer," one of the vampire's hissed.
On viewing the satisfied smirk on Buffy's face, all the vampire's moved in her direction. Resulting in them turning their back to Harry, which in his current mood wasn't a good idea. Harry hefted the Gryffindor sword in his arms, with a sudden swing, he decapitated the vampire nearest him. The vampire's turned, suddenly finding themselves with enemies on both flanks. The four remaining vampires broke apart. Two vampires approached Harry.
"Mighty big sword you got there boy," sneered a female vampire on his left. "Be careful don't want to get hurt." The male vampire at her side sniggered darkly.
"There is no danger in that," spoke Harry softly. He kept his eyes focused on the blade. The female lunged at Harry, her blonde hair flashing in the light from a street lamp. Harry raised his sword and slashed at her. It wasn't a mortal wound, only a glancing blow that sliced a long line from shoulder to shoulder. She pulled back, bringing a hand to her chest, her face becoming even more white as the blood slipped between her fingers. The vampire at her side growled, he approached Harry with slower steps. They began to move in dance-like motions, each step countering the other. Harry's magic was flowing into his body, giving him a little more agility. But, Harry knew that the vampire was much stronger than he was, and used his sword to keep distance between him. Harry really didn't want to get within the vampire's grasp.
Swish. Harry's sword cut through the air, landing a sharp blow to the vampire's shoulder. He could have gotten the creature's neck, but Harry didn't want to give up the game. The vampire countered with a kick that stuck Harry's knee. With a small, almost inaudible hiss of pain, Harry dropped to one knee. His sword still firmly clutched in his hand.
"Ah!" a female voice yelled. Harry looked up and watched as Buffy was thrown into the brick wall. She crumbled to the ground, her breath coming in rapid gasps. Harry watched her out of the corner of his eyes. She quickly rose to her feet, but a scrape marred her face. Harry turned away. He focused on the black cement beneath him.
"You don't have to bow, on second thought do," growled the vampire he had been fighting. Harry's eyes flickered. Oh, right, he'd forgotten about him. Bow? He never bowed. A cruel expression flickered across Harry's face for a moment. His eyes glowed a subtle red as he rose to his feet.
"You may not speak to me like that," snarled Harry softly. He slowly raised his head, and his eyes glowed in the darkness. The vampire before him stiffened. He opened his mouth to speak.
"You're--" Swish. Harry's sword swung through the air the tip neatly slicing the vampire's throat, cutting off his words. The vampire crumbled to the ground, blood seeping from its throat. Harry watched in interest. He hadn't completely severed the head from the neck, leaving the vampires still solid. It was odd how the creature was still alive. Harry noticed motion out of the corner of his eye. His head whipped around.
"Please..." the female vampire from earlier whimpered. She stared in fear at her fellow who was spluttering at Harry's feet. Her eye's flickered to his face, her eyes widened as they took in his glowing eyes. "What are you?" she asked, awe and fear mixing with her words.
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The Gryffindor sword clattered to the ground. Harry took a deep breath, the air catching in his throat. His hands shook as he backed away. With a hasty motion, the female vampire ran away into the night. Harry's eyes stared blindly into the darkness not even noticing her go.
What was going on? What was he doing? He was letting it happen...
The air caught in his throat tasted bitter, like something had crawled into his throat and died there. His skin itched uncomfortably. And, he was cold. So very cold. Harry put one leg in front of the other. His feet felt like lead, heavy but without any trace of sensation. Harry Potter began to walk. It was a walk of average speed and stride, but he walked with no conscious thought, rather an instinctive drive. He had to leave this place.
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Behind Harry, Buffy casually staked her least vamp. She spotted one of Harry's on the ground. The vampire was still solid, but its head was almost severed and it had lost a lot of blood. Buffy stepped forward and withdrew a stake from her pocket. With a quick movement she dusted the vampire.
"You need to extend your sword farther to get the whole head," explained Buffy as she rose to her feet. She brushed her hair out of her face and scanned the alley for Harry. She spotted his silhouettes at the entrance of the alley, just before he stepped around the corner and into the street.
"Hey! Where you going?" called Buffy. She moved to follow, but her boot hit something hard. Glancing down she spotted a grimy, blood-covered Gryffindor sword. Why would Harry leave this? She wondered. Reaching down, she scooped up the sword, lifting it into her arms she hurried after Harry.
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Reaching the street, Buffy caught a fleeting glance of Harry as he passed under a streetlight. She crossed over to him her hands straight at her side as she glared at his departing figure.
"Harry!" she yelled across the street. But he made no motion of having heard her. Rather he continued walking down the street. His dark clothing made him difficult to see. Buffy picked up her pace as she followed him. "Hey, wait up she called." Buffy frowned. 'What was his problem, she wondered. After a few hurried steps she caught up to him. She raised her hand to spin him around, but in so doing she received a shock of her life. Buffy's fingers slipped through Harry, almost as if he were made of air. He wasn't solid. Indeed, as Buffy watched, she noticed he seemed to be fading even more.
"Oh...Harry, HARRY." Buffy called her friend's name, a touch of fear filling her words. Buffy dashed in front of Harry, and waved her hands before his face. But he didn't seem to even notice her. His eyes stared ahead as if was watching something she couldn't see. Buffy felt a tinge of panic sweep across her stomach. Her forehead crinkled in worry. Harry was almost entirely invisible now. A flicker of light reflected of his glasses. Harry was gone. There was no trace of him left.
Magic? Was this magic? It hadn't been anything like earlier when he had taken her to the mall. Still, it had to be some kind of magic. Even if that were true, one thought kept repeating in her mind,
"This can't be good."
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Rupert Giles sat back down. His leg twitched in annoyance. He threw back the glass of scotch he had poured, letting the alcohol burn down his throat. Buffy. He glared at the place she had stood.
"I'm doing my duty. As should you," said Giles to the empty room. He rolled his eyes. Yes, that was the reply he should have used...it was hardly Shakespeare but it would have been better than stuttering while his slayer dominated their conversation. Fight. Might as well bloody say it. It wasn't the first time he and Buffy had argued over her responsibilities. His first year as her Watcher had been pitted with such discussions. It seemed they couldn't go a week without her skiving away to go to a party or go out on a date. He had really thought she'd matured over this last year.
And bringing up Harry, well that was just ridiculous.
He was busy being a Watcher. Duty came first. It always had. Harry understood that. And, if he didn't he should return to England where he would be safe. Safe? Somehow whenever he thought of Harry he questioned the boy's safety.
Giles was spared his introspection when a large owl flew through his window. It was the large creature he had borrowed from friend in L.A. to send Lily his letter. He spotted a piece of parchment attached to the bird's leg. Giles went to retrieve the message the bird clucked menacingly at him as he removed it. Giles look up into the bird's eyes. He returned its glare with one of his own.
"Bloody bird," said Giles. The bird rustled its feathers and clicked its sharp beak. Giles turned his back to the creature as he opened his letter.
Giles,
Lola returned to me, and I wondered if you needed her for another message. Just let me know, she needs the exercise. Course, she doesn't seem to like you much. Coo' have you heard the news from home. Seems the magical world is all astir. Seems that their savior up and vanished on them. Really, you should look into getting a magical newspaper. For a man who works in magic you sure seem to live like a recluse. Let me know about the bird,
Albert
Giles shook his head at Albert's letter. He quickly penned a note to the friendly squib, thanking him for the use of Lola (terrible name for the vindictive bird), and telling him that the creature's service would not be needed in the future. Thankfully.
The bird flew out the window and Giles found himself thinking of what is friend Albert had written. Being a squib, Albert worked in the muggle world. He had a job at an airport or something. Yet, the man was still fascinated by the magical world. He kept owls, more than he ever used to be honest, and listened to wizard wireless. It wasn't strange that Albert was well informed about the magical news from home. He wondered if Harry would be interested in this piece of news...but no doubt the young man had ways of keeping in touch.
Harry.
Alright, Giles wasn't an idiot. He knew he was pushing the boy away. He knew he wasn't being himself. What Giles didn't know was why. He had nothing against the young man. He had liked the boy from the first time he had met him. And, the more he learned about the boy the more he liked him. He couldn't explain why he was keeping the boy at a distance.
"Bugger it all," Giles muttered. Once, again Giles seated himself at his table surrounded by books. He looked at the pages. But, he didn't really read them. Instead Buffy's words washed over him, and he tried to figure out why he was such an arse.
Unfortunately for Giles, he wasn't given the opportunity to solve his inner puzzle. His head shot up as his door slammed open. He rose to his feet guardedly, only to relax when he spotted the flash of Buffy's blonde hair. Yet, when he took in her appearance he grew tense. Her clothing was slightly rumpled, not unusual for a night of slaying. A small scrape marred her cheek, but it wasn't serious and no doubt her Slayer healing would have it healed by morning. Rather it was the expression on her face that gave him cause to worry. Her brows were drawn tight, her lips in a firm line.
"Giles!" Buffy called. She took a step closer and a flash of gold caught Giles's eye. A sword with a gold tang and rubies was held in her hand. The silver blade bloodied.
"God no," moaned Giles.
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miles away
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Harry's mind came back to him in a haze. He felt cold, and his legs were asleep. Hardly surprising, as he was sitting, his feet tucked under him. And, he had a feeling he had been sitting like this for some time. His eyes stared at the ground. It wasn't any special kind of ground, just green grass growing out of brown dirt...but Harry knew where he was. He knew it by the smell in the air. Harry could continue staring at the ground and recite the words that were written nearby yet, some sick force seemed to require him to lift his head.
Two gravestones. Both plain gray stone. They were surrounded by similar stones of similar cuts. This whole acre of land was filled with identical stones. Too many. Too many little gray stones that marred the fresh green landscape of Devon. The burial ground of those who had died fighting the second Dark War.
Hermione Jane Granger
Sept 1979-May 1996
Friends till the End
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Ron Bilius Weasley
March 1980-May 1996
Friends till the End
There was an empty plot to the left of Ron. In one of his more morbid moments after the death of Voldemort, Harry had bought it and fully intended to be buried there with the same inscription marking his headstone. No mention of the boy-who-lived, or the-man-who-defeated, or savior...whatever anyone else wanted on the stone. Just his name, the dates, and the words. Friends till the End. True his dates would be a little off, but the sentiment was the same.
Not that Harry had thought that the dates would be any different. Harry James Potter had fully expected to join his friends in May of 1996. When he had finally confronted Voldemort on the 30th of May, he found some amount of pleasure in knowing that his inscription would mimic his friends. For, Harry had no intention of walking away from his battle with Voldemort, his plan was too audacious to possibly work. It was funny how he hadn't cared at the time.
Ron. Harry's mouth grew dry as his brain recited the facts. Ron Weasley had been cut down by Walden Macnair in an attack on Hogsmeade on the 4th of May. Harry was told that his red-haired friend had been defending a group of third year muggle-borns. He had stayed behind while Hermione had ushered the children to safety. 'Covering your flank' had been his last words, Hermione had sobbed in his arms as she'd said it. Ron, always sacrificing his life like it was a piece in a bloody chess game. Harry hadn't been there. He hadn't been allowed into Hogsmeade for security reason since Voldemort had risen. It was something he still dwelt upon. His inner doubt wondered if he might have made a difference.
Hermione. Harry's brain went on auto pilot as he recalled the dry information. Hermione Granger had followed Ron a little more than a week later, the 14th of May. It had been a Tuesday. Studious Hermione had skived of class to go sit in the Quidditch stadium. She had done that a lot this week, and no one had the heart to stop her. If she wasn't there ,she could be found in the library, but she usually spent her nights there, when she couldn't sleep. During the day, she preferred the quidditch pitch. Harry went and sat with her sometimes. His pain was as palpable as hers, so she tolerated his presence. It must have taken them ages to notice the commotion. When they finally looked up, their eyes had widened in surprise, identical hisses of anger spewing from their lips. Voldemort and his deatheaters had broken through the wards that protected the Hogwart's grounds. The Order had arrived along with the Ministry Aurors. They two groups were fighting Voldemort's forces, trying to stop him from breaking the wards that surrounded the building itself.
Neither had been in the mood to return to the safety of the castle. Hermione hadn't even suggested it. Both had furiously joined the fray. The curses of the two enraged sixth years had been brutal and had surprised many present. But this attention had brought Voldemort's eyes upon Harry. The Dark Lord had crossed the field, he had paused before Harry. A cruel smirk on his lips.
They dueled.
It was said later, that the wands of both sides fell silent as Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort fought. Although Harry thought that was probably romantic nonsense, in real wars no wands lay still, no matter who was fighting. It was also said that Harry wielded a power and intensity that even Dumbledore could not match. Harry didn't know about that. All he knew was that frustration, rage and grief had leaked from his body that day. Afterwards he felt hollow. He had cast and dodged. He had fought. He had wanted to destroy Voldemort that day. But both he and Tom had grown tired. They had both been panting heavily when Voldemort raised his wand for the last curse.
"Avada Kedavra" hissed Voldemort his red eyes starring into Harry's vivid green.
Harry would realize too late that Voldemort's wand wasn't pointed in his direction. He would dodge and roll to the ground. And when he rose to his feet, Hermione Granger, who had been standing to his left, would be dead. Harry wouldn't see Hermione's face as the cold green light came towards her. He didn't have that image to think on, he wouldn't know how her face had expressed her last thoughts. But, Harry liked to think that it had been relief.
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Harry's eyes caught Hermione's headstone now. He carefully inched forward, placing himself in the strip of land that separated the two stones. His hand reached out to trace the letters, but he kept his hand from actually touching the stone. He had never been able to actually touch the stones. To do so would make it all too real, too cold. Yet as his fingers traced the air over Hermione's name, Harry could almost picture his friend sitting next to him.
"Its happening Hermione, I'm letting it happen." Harry's words were empty of emotion. His hand lowered and his eyes looked over the headstone. He seemed as if he were watching the sunrise over the green fields, but he really wasn't seeing them. His eyes and mind were focused on another night in May. It wasn't the night he defeated Voldemort. It wasn't a date anyone else would remember, and it was a date Harry would never forget.
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A/N:
Sorry about the later update. I was camping and there was no wireless connection. Still, I hope you enjoyed this chapter.
The winners of the 'Guess That Villain' contest have been determined and given their prize. I hope they enjoyed it. I had a great time playing the game
Della