A/N - This is the first ending to this story's prequel, "Fix You". It was originally posted with that story, but even though I strenuously expressed there would be a sequel, complaints were posted to Portkey staff, and I had to remove it and place it here as Chapter 1 of this story.
This was the original ending to that story though. I am sorry the story's fluidity has been destroyed like this, but unfortunately some people didn't like it. Portkey currently has no rules for alternative endings.
Any lyrics embedded from the song "Fix You" by Coldplay within the story are not mine, and are from the song.
Chapter 3
Tears Stream
Angst/Sequelled Ending
The rain was once again battering against Harry, as he leapt down the steps and across the still empty street. He was running as fast as his legs could take him, his feet soaked from imprinting in the massive puddles of water that were strune about the ground, the water falling from the sky feeding their volume. Harry paid no attention to these tiny urban ponds, his attention fixed solely on running, and continued as fast as he could.
Tears were streaming down his face, worst than he could possibly remember. Even as a child, he never cried the way he was now. They weren't tears of sorrow, like those he shed at Dumbledore's funeral. They weren't tears of pain, as those from scraping his knee when falling off his old bike when he was young. These tears were entirely different from ones that flowed from his eyes before.
These tears were ones of total, utter loss, and hopelessness. For years he had one thing holding him together, one thing keeping the great Harry Potter from falling completely apart: his hope. Hope that things would work out on some level; that his life would not be as it was through his entire childhood, and even during his time at Hogwarts. His early years with the Dursley's were the hardest in Harry's life, trying to survive and find meaning in a loveless family that considered him a better doorstop than human being. He was sure he was destined for a horrible life - until the day a letter arrived for him, and changed everything.
When he learned of the wizarding world, and started at Hogwarts, he thought his hopes and dreams had been answered. A purpose, and a meaning were found to Harry in this world, and he joyously left the other behind.
This new world however, did not turn out the way Harry wanted it to, regardless of how hard he tried, hoped, wished, or prayed. Yes, he prayed, many times, to himself and the spirits of the world that controlled the future, for things to actually start working out right. And as much as he hoped they would answer his prayers, they never did.
He was a pariah to his classmates, and every year he was faced with problems and tests, and not just the normal school kinds. He battled through these trials, hope still guiding him forward, but in the last few years he found hope failing. Fate seemed bent on delivering him the worst of reality, just when he wasn't expecting it, making it all the worst. Finding out Sirius was innocent, and that he and Harry could start moving closer, only to have him taken away less than two years later. Dumbledore being murdered, right in front of Harry, right before having to start on one of Harry's worst struggles in life; finding and destroying the Horcruxes and Voldemort.
Even in those, the darkest times in Harry's life, there was one thing that kept him going, kept his hopes strong, even when they showed their weakest. It was his friends.
When Harry fell, be it literally or otherwise, they were always there to pick him up and encourage him to fight, against his foes and whatever reality would throw at him next. Ron and Hermione, they both kept Harry going. They probably never knew just how important they were to Harry, only himself knowing how easily he would have given up all hope had it not been for them.
But in these last years, Harry's trust and faith in his friends began to wane. After the fall of Voldemort, he believed everything was behind him. He thought his hard life would be over, and things would finally start working out right for him. But with his friends moving on, and Harry realizing his true love, he was yet again denied this simple wish.
After all he had gone through, after all the trials and tribulations, he was still not worthy of having one thing go right. In fact, in the process of being denied another wish, he was loosing his last hope that he clutched to so dearly. He was loosing his hope to be with Hermione.
He clinged to this hope for years, a lone life preserver in the middle of an ocean of nothingness. This misty London night, he put this last, exceedingly dying hope out in the open, laying not only it on the line, but himself as well. It was his last attempt, his last struggle he would try to fight through. After this, his hope would be lost forever, and there would be nothing.
It was something that could not be replaced, Harry knew this. Many would try to explain to Harry that there was more to live for, and that things would turn out to be better. Harry knew however, that there was only one thing that could make things better, and that was flatly denied to him by his best friend, simply by the look that crossed her face tonight.
Harry was still running, now crossing the open park that stood on the other side of the street from Ron and Hermione's flat. He didn't know where he was running to, just as far away from both Hermione and everyone as possible.
As he continued on, his waterlogged clothes weighing down him as he body continued to move, his vision obscured by the tears and rain. He entered the children's area, the swings hanging dormant as rain made their surfaces unkempt and displeasing to sit on, and continued on. The teeter totters sat motionless at their obtuse angles, water running down the length of them. Harry exited the children's area as fast as he entered, and found himself in an open area of the park, trees standing at the edges of the darkness, the damp ground below him allowing his feet to sink and depress into the grass and mud.
There was no hope left for Harry. He had nothing. Even with his running, he found no purpose to it, and soon found himself slowing down, and staring at his feet, panting from exhaustion.
It was very dark in this area of the park, away from the path lights. The clouds nestled across the sky created a blanket, wrapping Harry's entire world in depression, sadness, and a dull copper glow from the city lights. He lowered himself to lean slowly, however lacking both energy and concern, timbered over on his side, right onto the watery ground. He struck the ground with a dull thud, and water reverberated around him, absorbing most of the impact.
He was cold, alone, and had no purpose. It was the lowest point in his life, and the worst of it was, he knew it too. He laughed harshly at those who could see him now, the great Boy Who Lived, laying in this London park, rain beating him as he lay on the lake that was the ground.
Harry couldn't stop Hermione's face entering his mind, the expression just the same as the one she gave only minutes ago. A wave of sadness and depression washed over him as his mind focused on his Hermione, his emotions taking over as he began to sob and shudder on the muddy ground.
When he looked up from expelling his closely held secret to Hermione, he was worried if her reaction would be angry, or concerned. Of course he dreamed that she would embrace him and reciprocate his love, but the one that crossed her face was, with out a doubt in Harry's mind, the worst expression he could receive.
She was sad. He could see it in her eyes, and the way her eye brows moved ever-so slightly together, as if pained by the words he said. She wasn't sad for herself, she was sad for Harry.
The look did more than just make Harry feel terrible, it abruptly crushed Harry's hope, right there in the doorway. He could feel his hope, that lone life preserver, sinking beneath the surface and leaving Harry forever.
Within those brief moments before he ended up outside, his chest hollowed beyond words, feeling like his heart had been entirely removed. His knees buckled, and for a moment he though he was going to fall over, however he managed somehow to stay standing. His head instantly began yelling at Harry for doing what he did, making him feel even worst.
Harry could do nothing but run. He didn't want to hear any explanation Hermione would give, knowing it would just hurt him more, if it were possible. He didn't even bother with his coat, and simply opened the door, not realizing that Hermione had locked it, yet it opened when he pulled, and ran as fast as possible, the hallway and stairwell an entire blur from his speed, his mind, and his tears.
Harry rolled over on the soggy grass, his back hurting from the sideways position he fell over in, and he sat up, hugging his knees in front of him.
Harry felt completely and utterly alone. The rain's constant hymn continued to play around him, its chorus washing away any and all his prosperity as he sat on the sodden lawn. He could not stop his head from falling into his arms, his entire emotional world crashing down, as the truth the rain brought began seeping into his already dejected mind.
There, in the grey falling showers that spread across all of London, Harry sat in the middle of this Muggle park, and wept profusely. His head was buried against his own arms and legs, rainwater pouring down his head, neck, and back. His shoulders shuddered like never before as he let out everything, knowing that no matter how hard he wanted someone to, no one would come to try and comfort him.
Harry knew, deep down as the pessimism grew on him, that no one would come. He would have only himself to try and take control of things. He didn't know how he would move on from this though. He had nothing left, and now his friendships to both Ron and Hermione were lost, because of what he did this night, which he kept reminding himself how stupid he was to do it, making himself feel worst.
There was only one real solution Harry thought of, while he and the sky continued to shed tears, and that was to go away. To escape everything, and go somewhere were his problems and mangled life would not follow him. He thought of it for a while, to go somewhere and start over, hoping that the prospects to a new beginning would help him get over his problems. He knew it was running away from things, but in his life, Harry never had a chance to run away; he always had to stand up and fight his problems through. Harry felt he should deserve to run away.
He held his head in his palms, as he tried rocking himself back and forth to calm himself. Harry had, many times lately, broken down with no one to help him. He was becoming good and calming himself down, if only for a while, and learning to bury his disheartening thoughts.
Harry now realized going away was the only way of solving his problems. Everything, in every aspect, was in shambles; from his relationship to Ginny, to his boredom and constant ridicule with Auror Training, and now tonight, with Hermione. He had to get away, and he needed to leave now.
Harry stopped rocking, the motion causing a small puddle to form around him, as his weight depressed the soft and moist ground he sat on. He stared forward, watching the parallel streaks of rain fall from the vertical, and made sure it was what he wanted to do, still sniffling as his mind tried to gain control. He could always return if he missed people, and he would leave notes for people incase they got worried, although he wondered even there if people would really worry, aside from Ginny.
Harry thought it through, and nodded to himself. 'You have no other choice' he told himself shakily, while still sitting on the drenched grass. Harry, very slowly, turned, and planted his hand in the muddy ground, and pushed himself up, rain tumbling off him like water from a wet sponge. He stood to his full height, and took in a long, deep breath of the misty air, still sniffling as his loss continued its torment on him.
He would start over. He could still keep contact with people that he cared about, but right now, he couldn't see them. He needed time apart from all of it. He knew once he entered Auror training that he should have taken a few years to relax. He kept himself busy though, too busy, and in the wrong way. Harry promised himself now, as he stood erect, that he would learn from his mistakes, and not return until he was at peace with himself, and could be sure things would start working out.
Harry opened his eyes, and turned his head. He could hear, aside from the pitter patters of rain colliding with leaves of the nearby trees, a squishing sound that he knew was someone walking nearby. Harry turned around, and felt again, a pang rip through his chest, mixed with a desire to just Apparate away before she could reach him.
Hermione was running through the rain, her hair matted and wet, swinging from side to side and she moved. She had put a light brown coat on, but was wearing house slippers as she trudged between the swings and other items in the park, making her way to Harry. Harry allowed his shoulders to hunch, and he began to walk in a different direction, hoping she'd get the idea to leave him alone. She however quickened her pace.
'Harry! Don't leave, please!' she shouted desperately as she came closer. Harry stopped, and once more, his head hung low against his chest. He knew, again the vision of her face in the flat, that anything she would say could never make him feel better. Any explanation or advice would just make things worst. He didn't want to hear it anymore.
'Harry, oh Harry, please don't go. Let's talk about this, please' she begged, as she came up, and moved close to Harry, grabbing hold of his arm with her hands. Harry continued to gaze at the ground in front of him, and after a few moments of only the rain answering Hermione, she moved so she was in line with Harry.
'Harry, please' she said again, trying to look up into Harry's eyes. Harry saw her getting close, and closed them before she could, taking a step back.
He knew what he had to do. It was getting to become too much, and allowing himself to hear more of Hermione's explanation just about how the one thing he wanted, more than anything in the world, could never come to pass, would just make Harry's utter depression complete. He needed to take whatever bit of himself he had left away, to rebuilt and start over now.
It pained him to do it, there was a hopeful part still left in him, telling him to stay with Hermione, telling him to listen to her and allow her to be his best friend, and help him. If he could just stay there with her . . .
Harry took another step back, Hermione's hands now falling down Harry's arm to his hand, and he shook his head firmly. That hope was gone, there was nothing left for him. He should get away, now. He would have had it not been for that part of his mind keeping him there. It was that part that caused all his problems.
Harry opened his eyes, and slowly looked up to Hermione. Her hair was drenched, its curls intensified by the water, and coloured black by the night. He could see her expression slightly in the dim light, but he could tell she was being cautious, waiting for Harry to say something.
'You never knew . . . how important you were, did you?' Harry quaked, as he took another step backwards, Hermione's hands clinging for a last moment before falling away back to her side. In the one step Harry took, she took two closer. She was still within reaching distance, but kept to herself.
'I -' Hermione started, but Harry cut her off.
'All this time, since I met you, it was you that kept me going. I fought through hell and whatever the world could throw at me for you. You were my hope, and my savour, until tonight' he continued, tears once more welling up in his already tired eyes. He could hear Hermione sniffle as she too was crying, and he felt glad she was.
'I'm leaving Hermione' he said, turning away and beginning to walk a little distance. Hermione began to sob more, and ran to stand in front of Harry. She got there, but was met with no eye contact. Harry looked away, not wanting to see the hurt she was in. She wasn't going to make him feel any worst.
'No Harry, don't go! Please!' she pleaded once more, collapsing onto Harry's chest. Harry closed his eyes, and sighed as she cried. Too long he waited to get away from it all, and he wasn't going to let anything, or anyone get in his way. He learned enough from his mistakes, and was not about to make another. He took Hermione's shoulders, and pried her away from him. She cried more as Harry let go, and took two steps back. She looked up once more, seeing the hurt and pain in Harry's eyes, as he took one last breath of the damp air, and Apparated away.
Hermione immediately collapsed onto the muddy ground, and began crying uncontrollably. Harry hadn't even allowed her to explain, or say anything to his admission of love. She wanted to say so many things at once, but nothing came out. Before she could get her thoughts together, Harry had already left, and was bounding across the lawn.
She had no idea that he kept something like that in. She knew he didn't exactly like that she and Ron were going to get married soon, but he always seemed happy with Ginny. Now that she heard him tonight, she could see that it wasn't true, and that he was always miserable. The thing that he didn't know however was that she wasn't happy either.
When she and Ron started dating after the war, she thought to give it a try. Ron always wanted to go out, but never asked until then. She didn't think it would last for so long, or lead to marriage; at least she never planned for it too.
When Harry returned from defeating Voldemort, she was so overwhelmed with joy at seeing Harry alive. She wanted to hug him, and never let go. It was in that moment, seeing him enter the Burrow, cuts and blood strewn about on his face and body, that she realized she loved Harry, like no other person.
Harry went together with Ginny though, and she thought trying with Ron wouldn't hurt. As time went on, Hermione lost any hope that Harry would break up with Ginny. They seemed to be doing well, and Hermione found herself still with Ron. She found security with Ron, in that he would always fancy her. Ron did look at other women, but wouldn't do anything wrong in that sense. He was a Gryffindor at heart, always loyal.
At the beginning, Hermione felt she was doing the wrong thing to Ron, misleading him in some sense. She however kept with Ron, and found herself nestling easily into their relationship. By the time Ron proposed, she knew, or at least thought then, that Harry was fully in love with Ginny, and she gladly accepted.
Now tonight happened though. She couldn't imagine Harry dealing with all the pain he carried, to have to carry this secret for so long. She was surprised by his admission, but felt so horribly sad.
Sad in the sense that Harry kept it in for so long. She dreamed, even lately, of the night he returned to the Burrow, just coming through the door and picking her up and kissing her passionately, something like the kiss he gave to Ginny in sixth year, except more meaningful. So many times she wished Harry would have loved her like she loved him, that it would be them, not her and Ron, living together.
Now things were disorganized beyond her belief. Harry was gone, and it was her fault. She should have said something, but she was never as brave as Harry was, doing what he did tonight. All she wanted now was to tell him everything, all the years of pent up love that stirred in her soul, and embrace him like she had so many times before in her most wonderful dreams.
She knew hoping would be pointless though. Harry was crushed, and put himself into exile from everyone. She didn't know where to look, or even if she could find him, whether he would accept her now.
Getting up from the soaked ground, Hermione slowly paced herself back to her flat. Luckily tonight Ron was not home, and in fact on assignment in Romania for work. She continued to shed tears as she walked back across the empty street, and up to her flat.
She could only think of one thing to do to get a hold of Harry, in any manner, and tell him. She knew it was a long shot, but needed to try. She moved over to her and Ron's owl Capella that sat in her cage in their spare room. She sat down at the desk, trembling from the rain, and slowly took a quill and piece of parchment out.
She wondered if Harry would read it, or just throw it in a fire. It didn't matter though, she needed to try. She felt like she created this whole mess, and needed to fix it, especially for Harry. He had gone through so much, he didn't deserve this, not if he didn't know.
She could fix it. She could fix him.
Not even thinking of what could happen to her and Ron, she took the quill, and took a lapsed breath before writing, trying to steady her mind, and hand. Now she knew what Harry felt like tonight in the rain, soaking and on the edge of finally telling the truth. She leaned in, and wrote the words, which minutes later were in the grasp of her owl, carrying them to Harry, wherever he may be.
She stayed in that room the rest of the night, staring out at the perpetual rain, feeling like no matter what happened, her world would never again see the sunshine, and would be forever draped in sadness. She lost hope after time passed, and with Ron's return, she once again buried her sadness, still clinging to the prospect that someday, Harry Potter would return to her life.
Harry never wrote back.
A/N -Please review, and let me know what you thought of the scene, and the descriptions and emotions.
Now some might ask why I wrote two endings to this story, and there are two reasons: a) because some people (like me) like nice endings, and b) because songs have different interpretations. Sometimes it can mean hope, and sometimes it can mean hopelessness. So, in that respect, I wrote two endings.