Trust and Betrayal
By: JA_Japster
Inspired and partially based on the OAV "Samurai X"
Copyright Notice: Harry Potter is copyrighted to J.K Rowling and Samurai X and Rurouni Kenshin is copyrighted to Nobuhiro Wazuki and Shueisha Jump Comics. The fanfiction is the product of JA_Japster and should not be reproduced in any fashion without permission.
Betrayal
Part XIII: It's Beautiful Isn't It?
Again, Harry opened his eyes to see to the familiar sight of absolute darkness. It was everywhere, enveloping him in its voluminous folds like a miniscule speck wrapped in an overcoat. The same world of nothingness that had appeared to him during his duel with Janus now was laid spread before him. Patiently, he waited for the omnipresent voice to speak, to make some absurd demand of him that would expedite his return to London. Minutes past and nothing happened. Harry's patience was quickly waning, and silently he wondered what sort of cruel trick was in the working. To allow him to get so close to obtaining his revenge and then to purposefully delay him could be nothing short of malevolent trickery upon which only the master of this realm could be blamed.
"What the hell do you want of me?" He screamed into the night. His voice rebounded off some invisible barrier, echoing in his ear.
What the hell do you want from me?
But no answer was forthcoming.
Suddenly, the world around him changed. In a flash of blinding light, the darkness vanished and the veil was removed. Harry blinked, unable what his eyes were seeing. Replacing the darkness sprawled a field of green grass where flowers of every variety could be seen bathed in the moon's illuminating light. A calm breeze whipped through his hair, and in the distance, the tranquil current of a running river could be heard. It was so peaceful, so wonderful, that for a moment his mind forgot to be skeptical of its existence.
Harry walked through the field, enjoying the tickling sensation of grass brushing against his bare feet. As he took it all in, the field, the flowers, everything -it all seemed too perfect to possibly be true. Could he be dead and this was the afterlife that awaited him? No. His body was whole, unscathed and garbed in fresh, white robes unsullied by the blood of men. His wounds were healed, and it was oxygen in the cool air that he breathed.
Where was he?
Then it struck him why this place seemed so familiar. Taking it all in, Harry's memory returned to the paradise he and Hermione had discovered in the Fisherman's Village. Where they had confessed love for each other, and where they had been able to be completely happy without fear or worry. It had only been a few hours that they shared in each other's warm embrace, but it was enough to permanently impress a feeling of euphoric joy in Harry's mind. He could feel it here, that same feeling. Wonderful and beautiful, this pasture of flowers felt like a physical manifestation of all the happy moments he and Hermione had ever shared.
And then Harry saw her, walking toward him from across the grassy field. Hermione Granger. No longer was she wearing the elaborate robes of nobility and aristocratic, but the same simple robes Harry also wore. If possible, the Spartan garb only served to emphasize her natural beauty, a beauty that easily put jewels and diamonds to shame. She spotted him and smiled.
Unconsciously, he walked toward her until they stood only a foot away from each other. He could not fathom what kind of magic could have brought them far away from London, but suddenly it didn't seem to really matter anymore. They were there…together. Hermione leaned forward, drawing Harry closer to her, and their lips met.
But something was wrong. The kiss did not feel right. It did not give him happiness or pleasure like before. It confused him. Something was not right.
It was the kiss of a lover…
The kiss of a traitor…
Violently, Harry pushed Hermione away, and without thinking he lunged forward and wrapped his hands around Hermione's throat. Her kiss, her very touch enraged him. It disgusted him. It was not the kiss from the woman he loved, but that of an enemy. Anger exploded in his mind, blinding him to the utopia around him and deafening him to Hermione's startled gasp as his fingers closed around her neck in a brutal vice. He shoved her into the grass, his eyes lighting up with a passionate lust for vengeance that could only be fulfilled with her death.
KILL HER!
Her skin felt soft against his hands, warm and inviting like the blissful nights they spent together in their cabin. Harry shook his head fiercely, letting his hate for her destroy the happy thought. She was dead to him. He no longer loved her. He no longer cared for her. The only thing that mattered to him was her demise.
"Harry…I love you." She rasped.
LIES! YOU LIE TO ME, YOU EVIL BITCH! YOU NEVER LOVED ME!
No, she did love me. Just as I loved her. But fate had other plans.
YOU BETRAYED ME! YOU DESTROYED MY HAPPIENESS! YOU DESTROYED WHO I WAS! YOU USED ME! YOU DID THIS ALL AND YOU LAUGHED!
She destroyed one happiness, but gave me another.
WHAT HAPPIENESS? SHE NEVER GAVE ME ANYTHING! SHE STOLE MY LIFE! SHE STOLE THE ORDER FROM ME! SHE STOLE MY FRIENDS FROM ME! SHE STOLE MY PURPOSE!
She gave me a new purpose. I became her friend, her protector, her lover…
SHE LIED AND BETRAYED ME! I CAN NEVER FORGIVE THAT!
I already have…
"Harry…" Hermione said breathlessly. "I'm sorry."
LYING WHORE! I HATE YOU!
But I love you…
I HAVE TO KILL HER! FOR THE ORDER! FOR ME!
And resume the life that forced her hand against me?
I AM WHO I AM!
Harry Potter?
THE SLAYER!
Tears formed in his emerald eyes, falling from his face down onto the hands that slowly were taking the life of the woman that he loved and hated. All of a sudden doubt filled his mind. He did not want to do this…and yet he did.
I love her…
Her eyes began to glaze as death beckoned.
SHE BETRAYED ME…
I forgive her…just as she forgave me.
Suddenly Hermione smiled causing Harry's breath to catch. His eyes widened out of terror, out of horror, out of confusion. His hands trembled. Time seemed to stand still, and the only sound that could be heard was the steady rhythm of their hearts. Slowly, Hermione's hand reached and caressed Harry's cheek gently, tracing a line where dried tears had left a path.
The scent of roses filled the air.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" She whispered.
Who am I?
An assassin for the Order? The Slayer?
Or just a young man named Harry Potter?
The choice was his.
It was time to decide.
-The End
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Author's Notes:
Extended author's notes will be included at the end of the Epilogue entitled "Reflections." Oh, and before anyone accuses me of blatant plagiarism, this chapter was End of Evangelion inspired.