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Death or Something Like It

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Books » Harry Potter » Death or Something Like It text size: (+) : (-)
Author: Elizabeth5
PG-13 - English - Romance/Angst - Reviews: 14 - Published: 09-06-03 - Updated: 03-14-04 id:1509989

document.write(''); Death or Something Like It

Author: Elizabeth lissag7@juno.com

Rating: Probably more around PG, but I'll PG-13 just to be safe. Some violence and allusions to more adulty things.

Summary: The final battle has taken place, and Harry and co. mourn their losses. Kind of angsty, but will become more hopeful in time.

Ships: H/Hr, D/Hr, H/G..... To be honest, I'm not really sure exactly where this is going to go, ship-wise. Give me your opinion, and I might decide to listen to it. :)

Disclaimer: Sadly, none of these characters are mine. On a side-note, I started a similar fic with Buffy, Angel, and Spike a while back that I never finished. So if you happen to be one of the three people that read that and think that I'm stealing that idea, don't worry. It's mine.

Author's note: I wanted to post these first four sections right away because they all sort of cover the same area, plot-wise. The next installments will be more about moving forward than dwelling on the past. Hope everyone enjoys, and please review.

~Harry~

There were certain golden moments when the world would slow down and become quiet, and it was as though she was there again. He had her memorized down to the very smallest detail, from the feel of her hair against his skin to the freckle underneath her right eye. And he would tell himself that he was dreaming, and he would try, sincerely try, to be content to just look at her and drink in the warmth of her presence. But invariably, he would be overcome with the desire to reach out and touch her, to see if this really was some miracle and not just an illusion. And when he was only centimeters away, she would disappear, and the world would be dead again.

Of course, he could never let on that he was dying inside little by little each day. He was the infamous Harry Potter, the brave warrior who had defeated Voldemort at the tender age of seventeen. The stories that were already becoming legend-even though it had been mere month's since Voldemort's death-all proclaimed that he had never wavered, had never had a moment of weakness throughout the entire battle. The wizarding world was heralding him as a hero; little boys wanted to dress up as the brave Harry Potter for Halloween. It wouldn't do to let everyone know about the look of panic in his eyes when Voldemort grabbed her. It would crush them to hear that he had wept over her body.

So he put on his mask, and he smiled, and he did all of the things that were expected of him. But there were still the occasions, such as this, when his mind would wander back to the day of the battle, to the last conversation he had ever had with her...

***Flashback***

The air was tense, silent. Harry took in a deep breath to steady himself, wondering how best to prepare them for what lay ahead, how best to tell them how very much he cared.

"Remember when we first met?" Ron inquired abruptly, breaking his train of thought.

Harry and Hermione looked at him with amusement and wonder in their eyes. On either side, Ginny and Neville looked on in detached interest; though they had been through much with the little trio, they were wise enough to know that there would always be a connection between Ron, Harry, and Hermione that they would not be privy to.

" We were aboard the Hogwarts Express," Ron reminded them, smiling lightly, "and Harry and I were clinging to one another because we didn't know anyone else, and then into our compartment walks this mass of hair, asking if we've seen Neville's toad-- " " Trevor," Harry finished for him.

Hermione smiled wistfully. "And I told you that you had dirt on your nose, Ron-do you remember?" Her eyes glazed over as she became lost in thought. "I'd seen you both before at the train station but was too shy to introduce myself, so I had to come up with a plausible reason."

Harry met her gaze. "I'm glad you did." he said quietly.

A moment passed between the three friends, and then Draco appeared at the doorway of the room. " Dumbledore's ready for you," he informed them briskly.

Harry was suddenly all business. " All right. Neville, you go ahead with Draco to join Snape's group." The two boys complied. Harry turned to his red-haired companions. " Ron, you and Ginny head east to join with Lupin's forces."

The Weasleys started toward the door. Ginny abruptly stopped and turned back to kiss Harry goodbye. They'd been dating for the past year and a half, and things had grown understandably serious between them in the past few months. Impending death and destruction could have that sort of effect. He gripped her arms now as they kissed, wanting to say so many things but unable to do so.

" Ginny." Ron beckoned from the doorway. Reluctantly, Ginny turned and followed after him, shooting a lingering glance at Harry as she did so.

That left Harry and Hermione. He smiled wryly to himself. It seemed that almost every time there was some grand adventure, it inevitably came down to him and Hermione.

Sensing his amusement, Hermione searched his face. " What is it?" she probed.

" I'll tell you later," Harry promised. They started toward the door. " We're going to be joining Dumbledore's front, on the west."

It was strategic planning, really. When Voldemort came after Harry-as he knew he would-he would no doubt bring along his scores of followers. Peter Pettigrew, the Goyles, Lucius Malfoy, and all the others. Harry's friends had been preparing themselves, training, practicing, so that they could take on the Death Eaters when they came. But Harry wanted his big guns at the front, in case Voldemort overpowered him-and that meant Dumbledore, and Hermione. Above everyone else, he trusted her at his back. She was incapable of failing.

" Harry," Hermione said suddenly as they reached the door. He turned to her questioningly. Reaching out to hold his hand, she opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't bear to say the words. Neither of them could.

Instead, eyes glistening, she moved forward to kiss him on the cheek, as she had done so many years ago at the end of their fourth year of Hogwarts. Harry waited for the kiss, and then whether by instinct or impulse he wasn't certain, turned his face ever so slightly so that their lips came in contact.

They remained like that for a few moments, both surprised, then pulled back. "Come on," Harry instructed lightly, " let's go find Dumbledore..."

***End of Flashback***

There was a slight tap at his shoulder. Harry turned, startled, to see Ron standing behind him. Ron was smiling, his green eyes kind as he met his best friend's gaze. He had changed so much the past few years, no longer the awkward red-head who was too tall and too freckled for his own good. He was still tall, but the rest of his body seemed to have caught up with his height, and the majority of his freckles had faded with his childhood. He was a man, now; Harry wished it wasn't so.

" Well, we've graduated," Ron said with a lightness that neither of them felt, "how does it feel?"

In all truthfulness, it felt empty. So many chairs had been left vacant, out of respect to those who were still recovering from the battle and those who never would recover. The most noticeable of those being Hermione's chair, of course.

" It feels good," Harry lied, and forced a smile.

Ron didn't believe him, of course, but this was all part of the little game they played. They would pretend everything was all right and hope that, eventually, everything would be all right again.

" Mum's organized a graduation party at the Burrow," Ron informed him. "You're to be the guest of honor, of course. I don't know if anyone even remembers I've graduated-not with the famous Harry Potter in the same class." He shook his head ruefully. " I've tried everything I could think of to stand out-remember that month I used that Muggle product and dyed my hair purple? Thought Dad would skin me for sure..."

Harry smiled, genuinely this time. " I remember." He put an arm fondly around his best friend's shoulder. " Come on. Let's see what your mum has cooking. I'm starving..."

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