Chapter 9: Shattering Walls
Author's note:
I know, it's taken me a long time to get this chapter out. It's short for I felt that you need to see some things. Granted, I've probably created more questions, but I can guarantee that everything will be answered.
I'm sorry, I really am. I've just had so much with everything, and work has been brutal. But here it is. And I felt, a bit different then what I usually write, but Harry needed to get these problems out into the open.
I'm leaving the explanation as to why this took so long on the new author's before this. And even though my little section below this AN is the same, just think of the impact it would have on Harry.
Thank you all for reviewing.
Emma Granger: Sometimes the best things are left unwritten. What you don't read in a story is just as important as what you do read.
Keytobias5: why thank you, and everything ends where it starts. For Ron and Hermione, we'll just leave it as a common event that has taken place in all the books.
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"Demons arise from beneath the grave," Roland stood up from debris, he was with his shirt now and two large crow wings were stretched out behind him. Harry watched as Roland's skin began to darken as it did before. But never had he heard such a sinister voice, even from Voldemort. "And angels fall from the skies." Roland took a step forward to the Death Eater right in front of Harry and Hermione. Harry pulled her closer, hoping to prevent any harm from her. "And I am the in-between."
There was a slight pause in the battle, no one moved and only the burning of the church around them could be heard. The empty wind danced through, and Harry felt more secure. Looking down, he saw Hermione's eyes were open and staring at his. "Hey beautiful," he spoke softly and pet her long auburn hair. Ron's punch had cut her lip, but the rest of her injuries were from the attack. Her left eye was beginning to swell and there were some bruises on her neck. There were probably some more injuries, but Harry didn't want to dwell on that. She was alive and that was that was important.
But the pause was over and Harry looked up to see Roland, or what he thought was Roland standing there. Roland now looked so different; half of his hair was long and blond, with a radiant yellow left eye. While the other half was pure black, and a red eye staring that the death eater. There was this heavenly glow about half his body, while a demonic one took the other half. The sheer neutrality of it was beautiful. It was then Harry knew the horror of it…
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Harry's night was filled with many things, and restless sleep was one of them. He saw the dream of the strangest
thing; a man with black and blond hair was standing over a grave, he wore a cloak over the rest of his body. Harry
couldn't make out what it said on the grave, but the man was clearly upset at the death. It was the oddest thing he
had ever seen. There was just something about the man that disturbed the entire being of him. He didn't want to
sleep any more
Shaking his head, Harry sat up slowly. He was sore for some odd reason. The room was a bit blurry, a tab bit less than normal for some strange reason. Harry grabbed his glasses and put them on before sitting up fully on his bed. The room looked a bit clearer, but it was only by a little bit. It was rather odd.
Harry looked at the clock and made it out to be around seven. He looked over at the Ron and saw that his friend was sleeping as gracefully, with on feet off the bed, an arm over his head and drool dripping down his chin. He snored loudly and Harry moved as quietly as he could, trying to get out of the room. He wanted a shower with hot water, and knowing Ron's habits of taking long showers, he didn't want to wait any longer.
Grabbing a pair of black jeans and one of his t-shirts, Harry rushed to the bathroom. Thankfully, no one was in it. Harry took one look around outside the bathroom then got inside and closed the door. No one else was awake yet. Harry was hoping for some time to himself. He sat down on the floor and sighed. There was so much going on that he had a hard time dealing with it. He thought he could handle Ron and Hermione going out, but there was something so different about them and it just made it worse. There was this feeling n the bottom of his stomach that told him that the relationship was wrong. Every fiber in his being spoke of how erroneous their dating was. It was just… Harry couldn't place a word to it, but he knew that they didn't belong together. But Hermione seemed so happy…
Harry stood up slowly. It was time for him to move on, this year he was going to be ready for Voldemort. If that last couple years were any indications of what was to come, then he was going to be ready. It was time for him to start new, after all today was a new day.
Harry had a quick show; he wrapped his towel around him just to hear someone knocking on the door. "Just a minute," Harry said, drying his hair. He opened the door wide, completely forgetting what he was wearing. A small ekk escaped from someone. Hermione was the first thought. "Sorry," he said. He quickly closed the door so only a little bit was open. Hermione was wearing her bathrobe and her hair was all over the place. She looked beautiful. Harry couldn't believe it, his face flashed red at the thought.
"I-I," Hermione began to stutter. Harry had never heard her stutter before. It was a rather odd experience.
"I'll be out in a few minutes," He said, smiling. A blush came over her face. She nodded, and Harry closed the door. Sighing, he felt so tense and yet he couldn't place a finger on it. There was something odd about today.
Hurrying up, Harry got dressed and opened the door. Hermione smiled at him the only way she knew, her smile that focused just on him, and entered the bathroom, pushing Harry outside. She smirked at him one more time before closing the door. Harry just leaned against it and relaxed. Yep, he thought, something is definitely going on. He felt different some how, just like he did before Ron came here. It was a simple sense of happiness, and when Ron came, it seemed to disappear.
Harry looked into his room, and saw that Ron was still asleep. He grabbed one of his books from his bag and walked back down stairs. Roland was lying on the couch, almost as graciously as Ron. The sunlight covered him and the black blanket that was over Roland's body. But there was something childlike about the man that Harry thought was almost odd. When awake, Roland was strong adult, who looked like he capable of anything, but now, all that power is gone and he was a child again. "They say when we sleep, we are all venerable to the world," It was Mrs. Granger. "I always thought that he was the exception." Harry turned around. Mrs. Granger had curlers in her brown hair and a smile on her face. Her pale blue robe fell all the way to the floor, covering her entire body, even her slippers. "But I guess we all are wrong about something or another." She smiled at Harry. "I'll begin breakfast." Placing a hand on Harry's shoulder, Mrs. Granger led him into the kitchen.
Harry wanted to help, but Mrs. Granger told him no and to sit down at the table. He watched as she gracefully made her way around the kitchen, but something blocked his eyes. Someone giggled behind him. Hermione didn't giggle, did she? "Hermione?" he asked, and the hands were removed.
"How'd you know it was me?" she asked, taking a seat next to him.
"You're the only other girl in the house." He smiled at her, "and a very pretty one at that." Hermione blushed. Now why did I say that?
"I happen to think I look better in a dress than she does," the off-hand comment came from Roland. Harry couldn't help but laugh at it, whether or not it was true. Hermione covered her mouth to hold back her laugher, but Mrs. Granger didn't even bother to try. Roland was placing on a black t-shirt as he walked into the kitchen and over to the basement door. "I want the book she owes me." He disappeared downstairs, closing the door behind him.
"What?" Harry asked, still laughing. His face was red, as was Hermione. She finally broke into laughter after Roland disappeared.
"It's nothing, Harry," Mrs. Granger said, "Roland just likes to make people laugh. A few nights ago, we sat down for coffee. He has these mood swings that come and go. That night was a bad one." She continued making breakfast, not stopping during the story. "The depression hit him hard." Hermione gasped as her mother spoke, while Harry just looked down. "I had found him spinning a knife on his finger tips. He was talking as if I wasn't there, looking right past me." Harry had gone through the same thing, but for some odd reason, he felt his depression was nothing compared to Roland's. "He said, `the thing that scares me the most is that my friends and family shall die, while I live to watch. I can never forgive myself for that.' Roland was a child again, lost in the woods." Mrs. Granger finally paused. Harry looked up to see her wiping her face.
Everyone is venerable when they sleep, Harry thought, it must be hard for her to sit by and watch this happen to her family. The night before was hard. He had the strangest dreams, one of Sirius, but Harry blocked that out quickly, and a stranger one than that. The latter dream refused to come to him, and he didn't want to think of Sirius right now. Even through Harry had finally stopped thinking about it, that didn't mean it hurt less. Some days it hurt more not having him to talk to. Harry was really hoping that they would be able to spend some quality time to together. And now… "Now, what would you like to drink?"
"Hmm?" Harry asked; he was lost in his own thoughts. Hermione looking at him weirdly, she placed a hand on his forehead.
"You okay, Harry," she asked. Harry smiled at her, and she blushed.
"Yeah," he replied. All that pain, all that anger was gone when Hermione touched him. "I am now." The blush grew, and both of them looked away. Mrs. Granger smiled at the two children. Neither saw, but the whole world stopped when moments like this occurred. It was then; she realized that in the end, everything would turn out alright.
Breakfast came quickly, and neither teenager spoke for the rest of it. Around nine, Ron came down and devoured the remaining food, including what was left on Hermione's plate. He didn't ask her, but just took. Neither Harry nor Hermione said anything, each looking down for their own reasons. Harry couldn't look at Hermione right now, his feelings conflicting within his mind. It was hard for him, trying to understand just what was happening to him while coping with the death of his godfather and his friends dating. Life was not the best for him, and Harry just wanted to go away, go away further than he has ever gone.
When it was noon, the trio was left to their own devices as Mr. and Mrs. Granger had gone to do some shopping. He was reading another book that he had gotten from the shopping trip, and Hermione was reading one of the books that Roland had given her. Each was lost in their own little worlds, but rather, little glances were thrown to each other at random times. Neither saw the other look at them, but each was embraced each time they looked at their friend. "Harry," Roland appeared at the doorway to the basemen. Harry was lost looking at Hermione. "Finish doing what you are doing and come down to begin your training." He looked over at Hermione. "After lunch I will start yours." She nodded, before looking down at the table.
AS Roland closed the door, Harry returned his attention to her. "Everything okay?" he asked. Hermione nodded, but he knew that something was wrong. He also knew that it was better for his to stay out of it as she was able to get mad at him for helping. "You know you can talk to me?" She nodded again. "Okay, so if you ever and I mean ever-"
"You'll be the first person I talk to," Hermione smiled at him. A faint blush covered her face, and
she immediately looked back down.
"Herms," Ron called from upstairs. "Can you come here?" She sighed at the nickname, but got up nonetheless. In a moment, she was gone. The clouds covered sun, darken the almost empty room. It was harder to read his book without the light gone. Sighing, Harry closed the cover and placed his novel on the table. He got up, only to stretch, realizing how sore he was. It felt like hours, sitting there reading the story of the maiden and the hero.
"Coming?" Roland's voice echoed through the hallway. Harry didn't reply, instead, he just walked toward the basement and down the stairs. It was dark, as the lights were turned off. Harry reached around on the walls, looking for the switch but couldn't find it. `Don't bother, all the electricity is out of this basement. I made sure of it." Looking deeper into the darken room; he saw a flickering light that danced a ways down the stairs. With nothing but his fear holding him back, Harry took a step with his Gryffindor courage. His shoes echoed down the stairs; he held out a hand touching the wall. He felt cold stone. Harry could have sworn that entire stair case was stone, especially the way the sound bounced off the walls. He walked silently, just reaching out and feeling the place. The air was cooler than upstairs, but Harry took that as a given. Most basements were like that.
The stairs were spirally, which was odd considering Harry could see the light straight ahead. "If you would relax, the stairs will fix themselves." Harry stopped walking. That was Roland's voice. But where was he? Harry couldn't see anything other than the stairs and the flickering light was no closer. Harry took a few more steps, but nothing changed. "Just relax, Harry." How could he relax with out any idea of what was going on? And what the hell was Roland doing? Harry's anger grew, boiling each moment past.
"This is your first lesson, just relax," Roland said from no where. "If you can relax and calm yourself, you will have control over yourself. And that is what you need the most." Footsteps walked up the stone stairs. "Would it help if you were in an environment more comfortable? Maybe. Do I care?" Roland appeared from the darkness, only a few steps down. "no." the smirk was darkened by the flickering candle light. With the dancing shadows, Roland's form was eerier and almost evil. "Mind you, this is for your benefit." Roland walked back down the stairs only to disappear within the light. "Now walk down the stairs, ya mudblood loving fool of a boy."
Harry growled at the man. He dove, only to land on something hard and even. Which was impossible as Harry knew he was on the stairs. "C'mon you raggedy momma boy, aren't you going to stand up for yourself?" Roland's laughed echoed through Harry's ears. He stood and looked around, turning with the laughter. It was all around him. "Some Gryffindor you are. Where's the courage? Where's the honor? Where's the bravery?" Roland paused. "Maybe you were meant to be a Slytherin?" the question was rhetorical. "After all, you are just as slimy as any other one, aren't you?" Roland paused, as Harry's anger grew. "You were the one who was willing to sacrifice your friends for your own personal gain." Harry stopped at that thought. It wasn't true, was it?
"That's right Harry, all of your friends suffered because of your selfish act," Roland continued. "You even lost your godfather because of your actions. Pitiful isn't how weak a single person can be." Harry shook his head no. it was impossible, he thought, I am not the reason why Sirius was dead? "Of course, if you just listened to your friends. Then, maybe he would still be alive, with you right now." Shut up, shut up. "Nope, thanks to you and your stupidity, he's gone." Harry just glared forward, trying to control the anger boiling within him. Shut up, shut up, shut up. "now you will never know happiness. You kill everything that would have ever made you happy. Your parents, Sirius. What next: Hagrid? Maybe the Weasleys? Or more specifically Ron? What about Hermione?" Harry continued with is mantra, trying to block out what Roland was saying. Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up. "No, that doesn't matter any more; she doesn't care about you at all. Why she is dating your other best friend after all. Where's the love in that?" Harry fell to his knees as he tried to ignore Roland.
"there's the soft spot," Roland said, "Hermione. You care for her so much, and she for you, but what do your best friends do? They betray you and go out behind your back. They don't love you and they certainly don't care for you. In fact, they're using you. What better why for Ronald Bilius Weasley to get his name known. What better way for Hermione Anne Granger to become famous quickly? Through the Great-Boy-Who-Lived. After all, isn't that what friends are for."
A bright light came from Harry's arms as threw them at Roland. "Shut up, you bloody bastard," he couldn't take it any more. No more lies. No more lies.
"No more lies, Harry?" Roland asked. "Then why do you kid yourself. You aren't capable of love. You are going to end up alone and empty for the rest of your life. The Weasleys will leave you, Ron will leave, Hermione will leave. Just like your parents. There will be no one left the poor Harry Potter." Harry shook his head, falling to knees. It was all lies, all of it. But as much as he wanted to believe that, tears were threatened to break through the dam.
"Oh, we going to cry now," Roland said unrelenting his rage. "You useless son of a bitch. A bastard whose father left his mother for another woman. How's that feel? To be useless to the entire world. Before you came into the world, your parents were happy." A figure appeared form the darkness, the candle light bouncing off his back. Harry couldn't look. He just shook his head, refusing to believe anything that was said. "They were happy, and because of you, they're gone. Forever lost to heaven, a place you will never find. They had happiness, something that you will never get. And they were in love, a state which will never find you. Face it, you're useless. Sometimes, it's better to shrivel up and…" Roland stopped. The light slowly returned to the basement, with Harry kneeing in the center of it. A single light swung over their heads, acting like a pendulum before slowly just over Roland's head. The illusion of the stairs was gone, and all that remind were years and years of walls shattered around the pair.
"Harry?" Roland asked. He didn't realize what was really happening to him. Sometimes the job takes over and everything else is forgotten. But he didn't know the mental wounds ran that deep. He didn't see the walls that Harry had built until Roland had destroyed them. Now, scattered around the crying lost boy was years of pain, years of suffer, years of loneliness. And roalnd did the only thing he could think of. "Hermione," he yelled, so his voice shook the house, "I think I broke Harry."
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