Hey! Okay, so this is really dark. I've been listening to Nox Arcana. Sorry. I don't own anything. And don't do something stupid after you read this, like try the Nyquil thing. No.
Warnings!! Angst, Insanity, Drug use, very mild cutting, and um...insanity.
Sanctuary of Shadows
He figures it was the NyQuil. That's what scared them. Could've been the mostly-empty bottle of Aspirin, but he chugged the Nyquil.
Used it to down the Aspirin.
It could've been both. He smiles at the fact that they don't know about the razor tucked between his teeth and his cheek, the way she taught him to hold it, to hide it. She taught him a lot of things, and while they think they're bad, he likes them.
Those little tid-bits of knowledge.
Aspirin takes away the pain. It's cheap and doesn't work on everything, but it's effective.
NyQuil puts you to sleep. Thick, green haze, sticky sleep. The kind of sleep nightmares can't enter and you have a helluva time leaving.
The razor is a different story. Comes with the territory, she said. He's become used to the nickel flavor. It used to be a sharp pang that nearly stung. Now it's a subtle mix, nickel that bites and brings warm copper, rust.
He placates himself with the fact that they don't understand. He's mourning. He's not suicidal, just sad. They wouldn't understand that, so he placates them that it helps. The NyQuil blocks out his memories. The Aspirin makes him numb.
It's destructive.
But that's all she was.
Her memory is the worst. Of all the people he's seen die, Cedric, Sirius, he could talk about them. Pandora didn't exist. She'd made herself disappear, until Harry came along and then, she exists to him. Voldemort didn't know what hit him when he met Pandora. One minute he was the Dark Lord, the next he was nothing but a pile of ashes. Harry knew. But green light slammed into her and she fell, the warrior that she was, just like that.
He wonders if she's in Hell.
Wonders what it's like.
They beg him to stop, even after he explains what she said about the other drug he could use but aren't good. Heroin's great, but it'll kill you eventually. Methamphetamine will make you invincible, but it'll kill you eventually. Cocaine is amazing, but it'll kill you eventually. He doesn't tell them that it's her words he's saying, or that he figure's Life is epic, but it'll kill you eventually.
She'd understand.
Pandora would.
It takes weeks to tell them about her. About the short raven hair cut in a bob, that was truly raven-colored because of the silver tint to it. He talks about her eyes, like Malfoy's, but inverted. Instead of light, icy flat grey, Pandora's eyes were dark and crazily metallic. Like Quicksilver, and always lined in black eyeliner making them look sharp. Like the razor.
Pandora was true to her name.
She was chaos.
He didn't want to forget that feeling.
With chaos came helplessness. But only if you weren't causing it. Because, when you caused chaos, you were helpless too, but that's what you wanted. Wanted there to be no control.
Like Anarchy.
After a month, he gives up and shows them the knife, the knife Pandora had kept as her only prized possession because it was a gift from her father even though she hadn't been born. It was engraved with her name, and a small phrase that claimed chaos to be where great dreams began. Harry figured it was the truth, because when they had been together, hunting Voldemort, that's all there was. Chaos. But he'd stayed focused and they had won in the end.
Or he had.
She was dead.
It takes a year for him to give up the Aspirin. Another six months to give up the Nyquil. But by then, it's been almost a year since everything went down and he's lost so much time it doesn't even matter. He's still seventeen and she's still hiding in the shadows. When Ginny gets mad, Pandora comes back. Steps out of the shadows. Harry's happy to see her. Thrilled. But he doesn't show it. Just lets her deal with Ginny, placating the red head and taking her arm.
They disappear.
Harry doesn't ask where to.
When Pandora returns without Ginny, he doesn't ask. Doesn't speak. Watches her fade into the shadows once again, smirking in the way that reminds him of something menacing, the smirk that he missed so much because it meant things were changing. Things were getting better.
He remembers that smirk at the Dursley's, before their accident.
Remembers it facing down Voldemort.
Hermione wants to meet Pandora. Even though he told her she's dead, she just came to talk to Ginny, his friend begs. So he asks for Pandora, calls her the only way he knows how, which is basically just wishing her there.
Pandora steps out of the shadows behind him, brushing past with a warmth that should be scorching but is more of a comfort.
Harry doesn't stop her from taking Hermione's arm and leaving. He knew what would happen.
The smirk is back.
He's nineteen and a half when they claim him insane. He doesn't understand, but her voice is in the shadows, soothing and warm. So he lets them do as they please, feeling resentful and hurt and angry, but knowing that if he waited, Pandora would take care of it.
When she steps out of the shadows, it's like they're seeing a ghost. But they're
used to that. Maybe watching a murder would be more accurate. He figures that's okay, because now they know why he liked the Nyquil so much. Pandora takes Harry this time, smiling softly like she always did, just for him, and leaves him sitting on a cliff by the ocean.
When she comes back, he smiles and holds out his hand.
She smiles back and takes it, telling him everything's okay now.
When they jump, he doesn't hear Ginny's screams.
Doesn't hear Hermione's cries.
Doesn't see everyone reaching out for him, begging him not to jump.
Pandora's next to him, her hand tight in his, smirking in that evil way that was so comforting.
Harry didn't notice her vanish before he hit the rocks at the bottom of the cliff.
There are things he didn't want to see. There are some things he did. When he jumped, he wanted to see deep water. When he killed Voldemort, he wanted to watch someone else do it so he didn't have to. But it was okay, because Pandora was there.
Pandora knew what he wanted.
She was a part of him, after all.
So? Good? Bad? I think it's dark and disturbing, but I wrote it up in just like, twenty minutes. Any mistakes are mine. Let me know what you think. -NaV