Harry Potter and the Prophecy of Two

Harry Potter and the Prophecy of Two

Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter and never will! This is the last chapter of the Prophecy of Two, and I'm trying to make it longer than all the other chapters of this story. I'm not sure if I'll do a sequel, depends what comes from all of you! I'm on the second chapter for the Prophecy of Light and Dark's sequel, named Harry Potter and the Fulfilment of the Prophecy. When i get about three or four chapters I'll post the first two. Please review and tell me what you think of this chapter and of my story and if you'd like a sequel!

Thanks to all my loyal reviewers, you know who you are!

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Chapter Nineteen- Saying Goodbye

"Brother, brother, please! Don't leave me!" Ashir was saying, shaking the lifeless form of his lifelong friend, who would never again see the light of day. Silent tears were streaking down his face, mingling with his deep blue hair, suddenly limp and dead. He wept silently for his brother, while Harry and Dumbledore watched in sadness. The grounds surrounding Hogwarts were a mess. Trees were alight and burning. The Quidditch stadium was a mere pile of rubble, still smoking from the dancing flames that had engulfed it beforehand. Bodies were scattered about the ground, of both students and teachers, death eaters and a few Order Members, who had arrived in the middle of the battle, their lives swept away from them. Harry rushed over to where Hermione and Ron were standing, Hermione being supported by a much shaken Ron. They smiled weakly, nodding in understanding. Harry helped with Hermione and began to shuffle closer to where their headmaster was standing, looking with misery about the once green fields.

“Not just lives were lost today, but a part of our souls,” was all he said, looking sadly at the trio. No twinkle was playing in his blue eyes. They were cold and lifeless. They were dead. Ashir had closed his friend's eyes, breathing unsteadily. He was still kneeling beside Tyson, and tears still leaked form his eyes. But his eyes held a new emotion, a new determination. He stared around the grounds from where he was seated, a look of horror and fear mingling with the determined look. He glanced at Harry, nodded silent thanks and lifted Tyson's body off the ground and into his arms as if he was a feather.

“I will take Tyson to my manor, where my parents are homed. My family is his family; he was my brother and still is. Thank you, Harry, once more,” with that, his outline became a mere shadow as he dissolved into thin air. Hermione let out a small, startled gasp but winced in pain as she did so. Dumbledore inspected the bandages were fresh blood was seeping.

“Please take Ms Granger to the Hospital Wing. They have a fire going, which is an immediate portal to St Mungo's. One of you stay.” They nodded, and Harry watched his two best friends struggle moving up the grounds to the castle, where many people were climbing out of their hiding places. Blood as well as misery covered the grounds, the night air finally catching up with them and chilling their bones. Harry found Neville, shaking and white, struggling to help Professor McGonagall form the ground. No traces of death Eaters were left, just a few lying here and there, bite marks on some part of their body, not dead but sleeping. Harry didn't bother with these and began to help moving the injured students and professors back up to the infirmary.

Harry found Parvarti Patil, screaming with agony, staring and shaking the lifeless form of Padma, her sister. He pulled her away, struggling to keep away tears, and wrapped her in a hug. He was never close to Parvarti or Padma, but this just was one of those times. The girl struggled to get away, screaming and crying, but she collapsed in his embrace, sobbing into his shoulder. Lavender and Dean appeared from behind them, and Harry let Parvarti climb into Lavenders arms, her own face streaked with tears, her eyes wide and staring at the form of the dead Ravenclaw. Dean patted Harry on the shoulder, and then moved off to help Terry Boot who was struggling to get his foot from under a large form. Harry yelled and rushed passed Dean and practically dived to the fallen half-giant. Hagrid was breathing form under his shaggy beard, but barely. Harry groaned trying push him over, releasing Terry's foot and rolling the man over.

He moaned and opened one black, beetle eye, straining to smile up at the anxious form of Harry.

“'Lo,” he said. Harry smiled slightly, helping him to sit up. Hagrid gasped and clasped at one of his huge feet which Harry realised with a jolt, was gone. Blood was splattered on the ground, in a trail leading over to a thorn bush where a black cloaked figure draped over the leaves, a large stick protruding from his chest, a baby-whale sized boot, with the foot, stuck in the tree beside him. Harry cringed.

“It ok, `Arry, Mungo can fix it!” he said, before his eyes fluttered and he dropped back to the ground, Harry pulled his arm away before it could get crushed. Five or six people levitated Harry's giant friend and led him to the castle, careful not to knock him on anything, Hagrid's severed foot floating beside him. Harry shook his head, trying to get the feeling of dread form his chest, but everywhere he looked he found someone dead or dying their friends beside them, no better off. Harry helped many people up into the castle, making sure everyone was through the fire before moving back into the nightmarish grounds.

Hagrid's severed foot was nothing to Draco Malfoy. It seemed as if his father had found him, as he kept saying over and over, “'ather, Deff ater, `ather, Deff ater!” His head had a large gash starting from his left ear and running under his chin. It was as if someone had tried to slit his throat, but missed the air tunnel. Blood was splattered down his white shirt; his black robe had been disposed of somewhere. One of his arms had been severely sliced, form his shoulder to his palm; you could see his bone through the blood. Many other bruises and cuts littered his body where someone had continuously stabbed him; Harry gulped, sending bandages all over the boy's arms, then he carefully ripped off his Gryffindor Quidditch cloak and wrapped it tightly around Draco's throat. He then levitated him up the ground, feeling his head to be very heavy. His legs were wobbling and throbbing. His scar was screaming in pain, but he still kept the Levitation Spell going, he needed to get Malfoy to Mungo's. He needed to help, to save!

His chest began to hurt tremendously as he struggled up a few stairs and spotted the Hospital Wing door. He walked in, noticing the large crowd of students and teachers alike, all hurt and bloody. A lot of St Mungo Healers were appearing through the flickering green flames from the fire. They took a patient with them and stepped back through the fire. Everyone was staring at Harry and the levitated Draco Malfoy. Madam Pomfrey was standing in front of him, and her mouth was moving up and down in speech. Harry couldn't hear anything except his own thumping heart. His head was throbbing, his whole body was aching, his leg felt as though it was being sawn off and something was trickling down his face. He lowered Malfoy onto the ground before spotting Pomfrey grasping someone in a white cloak then a lot of green. And then came the dark.

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It was dark, but it was light. Everything was black, but figures were moving around in the darkness, themselves so dark they were almost light. There were voices, muffled and rough. Someone was screaming in the darkness, and a soft tune was playing. Where was he?

The screaming was still going. He caught glimpses of faces in the darkness. Of Hermione's chocolate brown eyes, of Ron's flaming red hair, of someone's barking laugh, of a giant sized shadow. Everything was flashing extremely fast now. The chocolate eyes, the hair, the laugh the shadow, then a white beard, dark blue-green eyes, a fallen figure on the ground, a wolf howling in the darkness. And then the Indian from his dream.

“Part wolf part bird, struggling to survive. Family dead, friends dying, life empty. Everyone gone or going, no sense in it at all. Then the one thing, the monster causing the fear, the horror the hate. A prophecy binding the wolf and snake, a prophecy splitting the life. Only way to survive, is to kill, or be killed. Wolf and snake, bonded to the death.” Then was the light. Everything exploded, sending the darkness flying, the pictures soaring and the sounds reaching his ears. The sight reaching his eyes.

The light was so bright it seeped into his very soul, blinding his senses. Dark figures were moving about in the light, speaking in a language Harry couldn't understand. Someone was placing something on his head then putting something back on. His head was wet, and stung. His body was still aching after the ordeal. There was a great deal of red mixed with black and white in the room, he couldn't quite focus on one things. Every time he got close to putting a name to the figure, it would leak away as well as the name. Everything slowly and painfully came into focus. The reason for all the red presented itself. Seated around the room, in various places, was the whole Weasley Family, excluding Percy. Mrs Weasley was dampening his head with a wet cloth, Ron was seated beside his bed, knowing on his fingernails, Fred and George were pacing at the other end of his bed, both going in different directions, passing in the middle. Ginny was on the other side of his bed, sleeping softly, Mr Weasley was reading a book on a chair near the wall, although his eyes weren't moving. Bill was standing outside the door, talking to Charlie. Harry gasped as he tilted his head to look in the bed beside his own, gaining everyone's gaze.

“Oh, Harry dear, your awake!” Mrs Weasley shrieked, restraining herself from wrapping him in a hug. Ron almost flew from his chair and to Harry's bed. Mr Weasley threw the book aside and bounded to the bed, Fred and George collided in their pacing, Ginny jerked awake, staring fixedly at Harry. Bill and Charlie bolted into the door, followed by a very relieved looking female healer. She took his temperature with what looked like a normal muggle thermometer, but also took his body weight, shape, and his height, just by placing it in his mouth. She tutted when she read the thermometer, and shook her head.

“You are still incredibly underweight and undersize. If you had just one summer eating well, you'd be much taller. But all in all, you gave us quite a scare, Mr Potter!” she said, measuring out a potion in a beaker on the table beside him. Harry gulped down the foul tasting liquid, his throat too sore to ask what it was. The Healer smiled warmly, pulling the blankets up a bit and fluffing his pillow. At that moment there was a rustling and a small squeal. A great weight came pounding down onto Harry's already sore chest, but he brushed it away when he spotted the curly, brown hair scattered about his chest. Hermione raised her head, her eyes red and puffy, tears filling them once more. Streaks ran down her cheeks and her hair was wet from previous teary outbreaks. She hugged him once more, kissing him completely on the mouth, not caring about the many people watching amusedly. She pulled away, and sighed in relief.

“I was so worried when they brought you in and drew the curtain around your bed! They wouldn't let me in and didn't say what happened or if you were going to be alright. They only just opened your curtains yesterday morning saying you should wake soon, but its been almost twenty-four hours and………I'm so glad your alright!” with that she began to kiss him repeatedly on his face, not caring she was hurting him in the process or not knowing.

“This young lady has quite a temper,” began the Medi-Witch, “She almost jinxed us all when we told her she couldn't com in to see you, we had to take her wand and give her a sleeping potion, and she has just awoken most probably because of all you're talking! I will be back shortly, please try and rest yourself, Mr Potter, as your chest and head injuries have not yet healed, and don't seem to want to anytime soon!” with that she walked out of the room. Hermione gasped and sat bolt upright.

“Oh, Harry! I forgot about you chest! It must have hurt you when I jumped on you a lot!” Harry smirked, and moaned, “It's alright, Mione,” it still hurt his throat to speak for some reason. Many people came to see the awaken Harry, wishing him well or thanking him for taking them to the Infirmary.

“Say,” Harry asked, as a very teary Lavender left the room, being held up by Seamus. “How long has it been since I was sent here?” Everyone shifted uncomfortably.

“Umm………around a week, I think?” answered Ron, dropping his gaze to the floor when Harry's mouth sprang open.

“A-a week? I've been here for a week? How? It only feels as if I've only been here a day or two, how is it possible?” he stammered gazing around at the people.

“Well, you've only been awake for a day and asleep for five or so days. When they brought you in they didn't think you'd make it, so kept your hangings shut, to make sure no one got their hopes up or got too upset looking at you.” Said Molly softly, fluffing his pillow once more.

“Yes, Mister Potter, you were quite the sight. If any of you would like to go now before I lift up the sheet, you may” it was the Medi-witch, back with a few more potions and bandages, and began reapplying them to his head. When no one shifted, she lifted the sheets from his bare chest and got him to sit up. Everyone gasped at what they sore.

There was a heavily blooded bandage wrapped around his chest then moving up and covering the burn on his shoulder. After peeling away the dressing Hermione, turned her head away, as did Ginny and Mrs Weasley. Harry looked down painfully onto his chest. There was a great gash starting from jut below his collarbone on his left side, and spreading down to the end of his right rib. It looked extremely deep. Blood had already started to spill form it, running down Harry's ribs and onto the white sheets of his hospital bed. Around the sores edge was green, but then grew to a deep purple-blue bruise. Harry had no idea how he had gotten the gash, he thought he'd only hurt his leg. After the new bandages were placed back on his chest tightly, the Healer examined his leg thoroughly.

She lifted it up before her eyes, squeezing it in odd places and even stroking his ankle bone with her index finger. His leg was almost normal, but just tingled softly.

“We were able to heal your leg immediately as it was done by a non-magical object. But your chest,” she covered back up his chest in order to prevent the cool air chilling his already weak body, “your chest was done by a severing charm. They are impossible to see as there colour is a near clear looking blue. And in the night it would be invisible to the naked eye. It's a wonder you continued to move at all after this was performed, when did you say it happened?” she asked, gazing at him with startling light blue eyes.

“I didn't! I didn't even now it happened, I had no idea someone did this to me!” the witch looked at him, clearly curious as to know how he didn't feel his chest being split open, but thought better of it, and left them to their selves, but not before placing a half full glass of Dreamless Sleep Draught on his bedside dresser. Everyone was avoiding his eye contact for some reason, except Hermione and Mrs Weasley, who was already handing him the potion.

“Drink this dear, I'm sure you'd like a nice long sleep. I think I'll get these kids home for a sleep, and then we'll be back tomorrow. Hermione, you can come if you'd like?” she added, looking at the bushy haired girl with love. Hermione shook her head slowly.

“No, I think I'll stay here with Harry, but thank you anyway. Come one Harry, drink up!” Hermione answered, watching Harry tip the cup to his mouth, and gulp down the purple liquid. His eyes fluttered for a few moments, before they shut completely. Mrs Weasley sighed, stroking his forehead.

“The poor dear, he's been through so much and it's a miracle he still had managed to save more lives, almost loosing his own life in the process. He truly is, the boy-who-lived,” said Mrs Weasley, a silent tear dropping onto the white tiled floor.

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Words- 2,821

I decided to do another chapter after this one. Sorry this was a tad but shorted than the others, but I wanted to do twenty chapters. Please review and tell me if you want a sequel, I'm not begging, just suggesting!!!