Amazing Grace
By: Batgirl801
Amazing Grace, How sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was Lost, But now am found
Was blind, but now I see…
She looked across the expansive lawn, searching for any sign of movement. She had been waiting for nearly three hours, without so much as leaves fluttering in the breeze. Everything was still as death. Death. That was a word she had used too much lately. One could only say it so many times before it lost all meaning. Everything died; plants, animals, dreams, people. Nothing was safe from the cold clasp of death. Even something that you would give anything in the world to save eventually died.
A sudden movement about 100 yards away caught her eye. She drew out her wand, prepared to act ruthlessly if necessary. The figure that had caused the diversion was slowly drawing closer to her. The hairs on the back of her neck were standing on end as she watched the figure, cloaked in black, tumble to the ground.
"Well, I can't just leave him there. Wait. Him? How do I know it's a him?" Her thoughts warred with each other, and finally her Good Samaritan side won out. She cautiously approached the fallen stranger. When she was about 15 feet from him, she stopped abruptly.
"Good God! I think he has a broken leg! How am I going to help him up? Wait, I am a witch, I can levitate him…" She slowly resumed her pace until she was standing over him. She eyed his tattered robes, noticing his shoes, which appeared to have once been very nice, and gasped at the mask on his face.
"Hmm…I wonder who it is. I guess I can just pull this mask off, He doesn't seem to be in a position to mind all that much…" She decided to tug the mask off. Just as she touched the stiff black material, his hand shot up and grabbed her wrist. Electricity pulsed through her arm as he touched her.
"Please. Just leave it on." He struggled to keep his voice even. He was obviously in an extraordinary amount of pain. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth. She could have sworn that she recognized that voice, even broken as it was. With a swish of her wand, he was floating three feet off the ground, as if on an invisible stretcher.
"I'll leave it on, but you have to come with me. I know a few healing spells, and you really need to get fixed up before you go any further tonight." He nodded, and she floated him into her cabin.
The cabin was small, as she was the only person inhabiting it currently. It was modestly furnished, with second-hand furniture. There were two main rooms, a bed/leisure area and a kitchen. There was a loo located around the back. Somehow she had managed running water, and the cabin was lit mostly by torchlight. There were candles placed sporadically around the main living room, and a blazing fireplace with a beautiful oak mantle. She had been living there for nearly three months, cut off from all contact with the rest of the world. It wasn't as though she had been banished, per se, she just wanted to be alone. If she couldn't be with the one she wanted, then she didn't want to be with anyone. But a little voice in her head told her to let this man in, and to take care of him.
She lowered the mysterious man onto the kitchen table and cut his pant leg so she could survey the damage. It did not look good at all.
"How long has it been broken?" she questioned him.
"Oh, about three days now…" He gasped in pain as she gently touched her wand to the shin area.
"Three days!? You must have lost a lot of blood, you'll need to stay here and rest for a few days to get your strength back," Her eyes filled with tears as she saw the anguish on the lower half of his face.
"Meh." he mumbled incoherently and passed out.
She quickly performed the healing spells and levitated him to her bed. She magicked his pants off, and replaced them with some flannel pajama bottoms. After covering him with her quilt, she blew out the candles and went over to the only mirror in the house. After staring at her reflection for what seemed like an hour, she began to cry.
"What has happened to me? I have never seen myself look so old and tired. The bags under my eyes could store a week's worth of clothing…my hair looks horrendous. The frizz is worse than ever, and it needs cutting. I guess the coloring is still pretty normal, no premature gray hairs, or anything horrendous like that..." She had never really thought much about how she looked before, but with no one to talk to for three months; she had often found herself gazing into the mirror, hoping that the reflection looking back at her would magically change into that of the man she loved. Her heart ached for him, her nostrils missed his scent, her body missed his warmth. What had gone wrong? Why was he gone and presumed dead? She had asked herself these questions countless times, and the only answers that she could come up with were nonsense. Of course he wasn't still alive, that was impossible. Nobody could have survived an attack like that. But, somebody once had survived a similar attack. Her heart ached for him now. Could he have done it twice? This line of questioning always made her sad. If he was alive, why wasn't he here with her? She was too young to be wasting away like this. After all, she had just graduated from Hogwarts in June. She was 18 years old, and had already suffered more than a person three times her age should have. She knew what it was like to love and to lose, and she hated it.
Breaking out of her reverie, she prepared for bed. Walking quietly into the bed area, she opened her armoire and took out her nightgown. After checking to be sure the mysterious stranger was still asleep, she turned to face the opposite wall and changed her clothes. With the nightgown in place, she crept up to the bedside and laid her palm across the man's forehead, trying to feel for a fever through the stiff black fabric. She desperately wanted to remove the mask, but she knew he would wake up and be angry with her. Sighing, she headed for the couch.
After staring blankly at the ceiling for an hour and a half, a strange sound drew her attention. It was coming from somewhere near the bed. It sounded like a puppy crying for its mother. She got up and followed the sound, hoping that a stray dog had not entered her house. She stopped in front of the sleeping man. It was obvious that the sounds were coming from him. He was curled up in the fetal position, his hands wrapped around his shoulders, a look of anguish on the part of his face that was showing. It looked as though there was a deep internal struggle within the man's dreams. Tears were streaming down his face; the mask was soaking wet.
She sat on the bed next to him and laid a hand on his shoulder. Her heart ached seeing him so terrified. She was reminded of old memories, old nightmares; older, simpler times. She had comforted her love many times during nightmares. The man seemed to sense her presence, and he calmed a little.
She gazed at his face, trying to discern what lay beneath the cloth. She could make out the outline of his nose, and his mouth reminded her of someone she knew, someone she thought she had lost. There was a cut along the bottom of his cheek, one that would surely form a scar after it had healed. He didn't seem to be that much older than her, but it was hard to tell without looking into his eyes, or studying his hair. He didn't have any facial hair, so she guessed that he was actually her age.
He gasped out loud, and his eyes flew open. "Where am I?"
"Don't worry, you are safe here, no one knows of this place," she tried to soothe him. Her hand was slowly stroking his shoulder, as though he were, in fact, a whimpering stray puppy.
He turned to face her, and studied her for a long time. She could feel his eyes traveling over her face and down her neck, taking in her every curve and feature. Heat rose to her face, making a crimson splash. A knot was forming in the pit of her stomach. She couldn't help but think that his gaze felt familiar to her.
"Are you feeling any better?" she asked, tentatively.
"I…Uh…guess so…" he stammered. A blush was creeping onto his face as well.
"I heard you making noises, so I came to check on you. What were you dreaming about? You looked so terrified…"
"Oh, I…well…it was nothing." He looked away from her, his shoulders tensing. She could tell that he was hiding something. By the looks of his behavior, it was something important. He glanced back at her, and she realized that she was still stroking his shoulder.
"Oh, sorry about that." She hastily removed her hand and looked down at her feet, wanting to look anywhere but his face.
"I didn't mind…it felt nice. It's been awhile since anyone tried to comfort me," He looked longingly at her hand, wishing it were on his shoulder once more. He enjoyed her touch; it actually did calm him.
"Tell me what is bothering you. I know it's something. Maybe I can help,"
"I can't tell you. If I told you it would change everything…"
She looked at his face, desperately wishing she could see all of it. A familiar scent caught at her, and she gasped.
"Oh my God….I can't believe it…" She knew it all too well... It had been three long months since she had smelled it, but she remembered it like it was yesterday. That had been the longest, most painful day of her short life.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Flashback~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The skies were black, and it was only three in the afternoon. All around Hogwarts, hundreds of Death Eaters were standing guard. Escape seemed impossible. She was standing close to him, clutching his hand in sheer terror. In front of them stood the 'man' who had tormented him, and everyone he loved, for the past 17 years. Sure, there had been an eleven year gap, but he had come back with a vengeance when they were in their first year at Hogwarts. Lord Voldemort was looking upon the two with contempt. Their fallen comrades were all around them, their best friend Ron included. She had a permanent set of tears in her eyes, and a permanent trail of wetness running down her cheeks. She felt empty inside knowing that Ron was gone, and intense anger at the man in front of her for his part in it. All of their friends, strewn about the lawn, were blocking their only path of escape; not that escape was a plausible choice at this point.
"Why don't you just take me, and leave her out of this! You know it's me you're after, just let her go!" the terrified teenager yelled at the Dark Lord.
"Now, do I really seem like the type of person to simply allow someone to go? I thought you had learned that lesson back in your fourth year, my dear boy. Do I need to give you another reminder?" With that, he pointed his wand at the girl and shouted the worst two words in the wizarding dictionary.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!!"
"EXPELLIARMUS!!"
The boy had jumped in front of her, shouting his spell at the same time. The result was hard to determine. She felt no pain, but the world went dark. She heard a hair-raising scream, but soon realized it was coming from her own parched throat.
"NOOOOOOO!!" She slumped to the ground, and felt the body of her boyfriend below her. Her already dark world went silent, and she lay unconscious. What she didn't know was that by jumping in front of her to shield her from harm, he had placed a sort of magical shield on her, similar to the one his own mother had placed on him sixteen years before.
Voldemort's death curse had hit the boy, causing him to crumple to the ground. It seemed as if it had gone right through him, as a giant willow tree behind them was struck as well. The mighty tree creaked and groaned as its trunk was split in two. It fell with a huge crash right where the three had been standing.
The next thing she remembered was lying in a bed in the hospital wing of Hogwarts. Dumbledore was standing in front of her, his eyes strained with immense sadness.
"Professor Dumbledore…where is he?" She didn't see him in any of the other beds; most of them were empty, as there weren't many survivors of the attack.
"Lie back, dear girl, there is much to tell you…As you know, Mr. Ronald Weasley was lost in the attack. I am very sorry for your loss, but I'm afraid that the sadness does not end with him. We have also recovered the bodies of Lavender Brown, Pavarti Patil, Seamus Finnegan, Ginny Weasley, and a number of professors." Tears were threatening to fall from Dumbledore's eyes, but she could tell he was holding back for her sake.
"What about…." She couldn't bring herself to say his name; there was a sinking feeling in her stomach. She remembered landing on his soft body when she fell.
"I am very sorry, but we cannot find his body. He seems to have disappeared." With these words, she broke down, her worst fears realized. It was as though the hope of the world had died that day, along with all of her closest friends. She felt Dumbledore's hand on her shoulder, attempting to bring her some comfort, but she was too far gone in the throes of grief.
"Voldemort survived the blow from the tree, but was severely injured. He fled, and the Death Eaters followed him. It seems that there were simultaneous attacks at both Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade. The survivors have all congregated here, as the M.O.M. is no longer safe. Voldemort's supporters have infiltrated up to the highest levels. I am telling you this because you were the person closest to Harry. I believe that if anything can bring him back, it will be you. I refuse to believe that he is dead." This being said, Dumbledore slowly stood, his age apparent in his actions.
She lay there, his words sinking in. She couldn't help thinking that he was really gone. People don't just disappear. They don't. If he was gone it was because Voldemort had taken him. She was sure of it. But if Voldemort had him, how could she get him back? Ron was no longer here to help her. Even Ginny was gone, what little help she would have been.
Her thoughts were consumed with him. The longer she thought, the more certain she was that she would never see him again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~End Flashback~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~