Together
Prompt: What if Harry hadn't died in the Forbidden Forest in the Battle for Hogwarts?
Warning: LVHP, NOT TRHP. This is going to be pure serpentine goodness. Will be rated M in later chapters. The first multi-chap fic I've written in years due to writing books, so bear with me. Writing someone else's characters after writing your own for so long is strange.
I don't own any of this stuff other than the 'plot', which I am sure has been done before. All characters belong to JK Rowling. What a Goddess.
Chapter 13: Truth
…
Harry was in the Forest, close to the Estate, running as fast as he could.
He wasn't a Malfoy. As much as he loved Draco and Narcissa, it was not where he belonged. He couldn't go back to the abusive Muggle family, and Voldemort would soon be storming the school.
Voldemort. The word wanted to make him cry and throw up all at once. He was finally understanding how it tasted on other people's tongues.
He felt like an idiot. He had trusted the most feared man in the world, had allowed the man to see him at his most vulnerable. He had trusted the man.
He didn't belong there, or with the Muggles, or at the school. A familiar sense of numbness washed over him, and there was only one answer. Amongst all the chaos, there was a way out. An easy way out.
He was going to die.
…
Voldemort listened to his thoughts, his own too hectic to even try to rationalise. The calmness scared him. He had forgotten what fear felt like, but it had reared its ugly head, and he was feeling sick to his stomach. When Harry had begged for death initially, it had been nearly funny. This time, it wasn't.
And it was because this time, he actually cared.
The look on Harry's face was going to haunt him for years, that much he knew. The pure, burning sorrow on his face was horrible. However, nothing was more terrifying than the calm. As soon as he decided on his next move, Voldemort jumped to his feet and stormed towards the entrance to the Castle.
Just as he reached the door, he was stopped. Narcissa glared at him, and he realised that he'd never seen the woman look quite so angry before. She blocked the door.
"What have you done?" She growled. Voldemort suddenly felt like a child. He felt weak.
"Something terrible. I need to fix it."
"Do you love him?" She asked. The question was met with silence.
He wasn't sure. He had no comparison point, nothing to base his thoughts on.
"I…honestly don't know. But he's going to get hurt if…"
"Go find my son." She ordered, stepping away from the door.
"Bring him home."
…
Harry had managed to find a cliff. He sat on the edge of it, gazing out across the ocean. Falling seemed like a quick and peaceful way to die. Heights didn't scare him at all, and the idea of flying almost brought back happy memories. Draco had told him he was a good Quidditch player. That was probably it.
There was a feeling of panic in the back of his head for a while that he knew wasn't him, before it turned into a sense of determination. There was a loud crack sound behind him. He refused to turn around.
"Harry, come back from the edge."
He hated that voice, loathed it and the foul words that spilled from it, but it was still strangely comforting. Harry hated himself even more for thinking it. He stayed silent, and didn't say a word.
"I didn't mean any of it." Voldemort started. Harry scoffed, close to tears at the sound of his voice.
"You've lied to me the entire time I've been here. You're two faced. Why do you expect me to believe a single thing that leaves your mouth?"
Harry had a good point. Voldemort felt defeated.
"Harry…"
"Do you love me?" Harry asked suddenly. "Don't lie. I'll know."
Checkmate.
"Harry, it's not as easy as that…" The Dark Lord muttered, as he watched Harry slide forward and off of the Cliff.
"HARRY!"
…
IT'S A CLIFFHANGER.
GEDDIT?
I'm sorry. I'm ill and tired and cold and lonely and hungry.
Allow me a stupid joke.
Also, thanks to Black Shades of Red for pointing out my publishing error. I'm hoping it's now fixed.
-Alistair