Glacies Nexium
Chapter 3: Nothing Left
by hpotter225
* * *
There was one particular instance in which Harry remembered being unable to open his eyes, and that was when he had crammed for two entire days then crashed after taking the final test. That time was amusing. This time was frightening.
He felt his whole body tingling as he tried to twitch his eyes, tap his finger, anything to ensure that he wasn't a paraplegic. His attempts failed quite miserably, he decided after five minutes of futility. His eyes felt so heavy that even if they did open they would fight to shut themselves again. The broken connection between his brain and his body was disconcerting.
With nothing else to do, Harry forgot his physical incapability and tried to glean the meaning of the low buzz he heard. It sounded like a heavy piece of furniture sliding across the floor. When his whole useless body slid up the bed and his head collided with something hard, he determined that he was correct and that the he was either on the furniture or the furniture had run him over.
"Ronald, be careful!" shouted a familiar and quite relieving voice. "You're going to hurt him."
"He'll be fine," Ron said back knowingly.
Thank Merlin for friends like Hermione, Harry thought to himself. If Ron had a twin brother I would be dead. Either that or Fred and George would have killed them both. Harry tried to smile to himself, but instead a shock ran down his spine and he felt an impulse to lurch forward. Unfortunately, his body was not in a state to do any lurching, so the pain took a second pass and then subsided.
Deciding it would be profitable to stop listening for his impending doom, Harry tried to remember why he was incapacitated on a foreign piece of furniture. Nothing obvious came to mind. This was certainly an odd predicament.
Then pain struck as Harry felt the remains of his left hand obliterated by a vice-like grip. With a loud howl of anguish, Harry yanked his arms and legs into his chest. He was not, however, in any state of mind to glory in his achievement, for his entire left hand felt like it was burning from the inside.
"Are you bloody insane?" screamed Harry, his eyes snapping open and glaring at the perpetrator. "That's my bloody hand!"
Hermione was quite shocked, indeed. "Harry!" she exclaimed.
"What happened?" Harry yelled in agony.
"I was hoping you could tell me," said Hermione, who was sitting in a chair next to Harry. "We didn't know if you were going to wake up."
"You don't remember what happened?" asked Harry.
"All I remember is you falling through the doorway clutching your shattered hands. You had said you were going for a walk. Then you came back looking like that," said Hermione, waving towards Harry's hand. "Ron hasn't been out of his room for two days."
Harry shook his head, which turned out to be a terrible idea as he felt pain course through his neck. He winced. "I don't remember what happened, either. Hey," Harry reached out a hand and rested it on Hermione's knee, gritting his teeth to avoid showing the pain, "what's wrong?"
Hermione, who had been looking down at the floor, turned her head up to look at Harry. She smiled weakly. "What might have happened if you had run off alone? You could be dead."
"I'm not dead," said Harry. "You and Ron saved me, just like you always have. Don't worry about it. I'm not going to run off."
An invisible weight lifted from Hermione's shoulders. "Promise?"
"I promise," Harry repeated.
Hermione smiled and covered Harry's hand with hers. "Thanks, Harry. That means a lot to me."
"Yeah," said Harry quietly, suddenly feeling warm inside. "You're welcome."
One of Harry's eyes twitched from the intense pain in his hand. Much to Harry's dismay, Hermione leaped to her feet, letting his hand swing into the side of the bed. Harry grunted and bit into his lip.
"Madam Pomfrey just arrived," Hermione announced. "I'll fetch her and you can get that hand cleaned up." She quickly exited the room.
And then Harry looked around, noticing for the first time that he was lying in the Hogwarts infirmary. He winced, though this time not from pain. He would have a lot of explaining to do.
Moments later Madam Pomfrey bustled into the room carrying far too many vials full of lethal looking potions. "Mister Potter," she said curtly, "you have quite a propensity for getting into trouble, you know?"
"Yes," responded Harry dryly. "I've come to notice that."
"Wait one second," Madam Pomfrey said loudly, placing her hands on her hips. "Did Miss Granger let you out of the body bind?"
Harry looked down at himself and then back up at Madam Pomfrey. "I think so," he replied.
Madam Pomfrey shook her head, muttering "Kids," and picked a vial of green sludge from her tray. "Drink this," she demanded, handing the unpalatable solution to Harry.
"With pleasure," Harry responded, eying the vial with distaste. He swallowed once, then downed the contents in one gulp. It tasted like cherries, he thought. "That is actually quite good," he said happily.
Madam Pomfrey handed him another vial. "Don't get your hopes up."
Harry sighed. It was going to be a long day.
* * *
"I can't tell you," said Harry firmly.
After the mob of Weasleys had finally left, Lupin had slipped in to talk alone with Harry. His aged and worn face had nearly broken Harry's resolve. He looked so desperate to help, yet so troubled that he couldn't. But Harry couldn't let him help, not after Sirius.
"Harry," said Lupin quietly, leaning forward and covering his face with his hands. "Harry, please don't do this. You can't do it alone. Your parents wouldn't want that."
That was a low blow, Harry thought. "My parents are dead," he whispered. "All of their friends but you and Wormtail are dead. If I lost you then I would have nothing left of my past. It wouldn't be worth it to kill Voldemort and not be able to live my life after."
Lupin shook his head grimly. "What about me? You're the last reminder of James and Lily that I have, Harry. You may need my help to get through this."
"No," said Harry. "I can do this on my own. I have to do this on my own."
"You'll need training," suggested Lupin.
"Covered," Harry responded bluntly.
"Advice," suggested Lupin.
"Hermione," said Harry.
Lupin sighed and leaned back in his chair, placing his hands on his knees. "You're making a mistake, Harry," he said. "I'll be here if you need me." Without looking at Harry, Lupin stood up and turned swiftly around, then walked quickly out into the hall.
Harry watched with mixed feelings. He knew Lupin felt useless, just as Harry had felt for sixteen years of his life. It was not a good feeling by any stretch of the imagination. He knew Lupin was going someplace to be alone, just as Harry had for sixteen years of his life. It was not a set of good memories by any stretch of the imagination. But it didn't kill him.
The golden sunlight on either side of Harry was filled with sparkling specks of dust, coming together at a point in front of him and whitewashing the flat wall across from his bed. Shadows of the few remaining owls danced across the floor with silhouettes of letters and parcels clamped firmly in their claws. The dark outline of a hand swept into Harry's view and he turned his head to see Hermione leaning against the window to his right.
"Hey," she said with a smile. "How are you feeling?"
Harry's eyes squinted. "Fine, I suppose." He raised his shield his face from the glow around Hermione's hair. "Yourself?"
"Fine," Hermione said quietly, still smiling. "Ron isn't taking this well." Her eyes turned slightly towards the ground. "He puts on an act for you, you know? He tries to be strong, but he's worried. I'm worried. We both expected something like this to happen. If you had died…"
"I didn't," said Harry, cutting her off. "I don't know what happened, but I do know that I didn't die."
It was difficult for Harry to tell against the blinding light, but he thought he saw Hermione's eyes glistening. He shook his head, trying to get his imaginative thoughts out of it. There was nothing odd about Hermione crying over him; she was his best friend, after all, and he, hers. He had almost died.
"Where is he now?" Harry inquired.
"In the Gryffindor Common Room," said Hermione. "You should talk to him."
"I will," Harry said, sighing deeply. "Hey, you know that I'm sorry, right? I shouldn't have walked out on you and Ron like that. I'm not capable of going out alone yet. I should have waited."
"Harry," said Hermione, walking to him until she was standing directly in front of where he was leaning back between the two windows. "Don't say that. You're a great wizard. Look at me." She reached out her hand and tilted Harry's chin so that he was looking directly into her eyes. "You're going to win. We're going to win. Don't forget that."
"Yeah," said Harry, averting his eyes. "That's the plan. I'm going to go see Ron. Why don't you come up in a little while and we'll figure out what we're going to do next?"
A long silence fell between them in which Hermione leaned back with one foot flat against the wall where Harry had been. She pulled her hair back behind one ear. "Sure, Harry, I'll be up in a bit."
Harry nodded and quietly walked out into the hall.
The walk to the Gryffindor Common Room took longer than Harry remembered. Maybe it was because he was admiring the gargoyles and portraits that he had lived with for the past six years; or maybe it was because he had a lot on his mind; or maybe he was dragging his feet to savor every last moment in the only place he had ever called home. Whatever it was, it was the least of Harry's worries as he stepped through the portrait hole.
"Hello, Harry," Ron said from across the room.
Harry stared straight ahead at Ron, who was standing with his back to Harry, both arms spread to the side, planted on the stair railings, and one foot up on the first step.
"Hello, Ron."
Ron's heavy breathing carried throughout the room amplified by the hard stone walls. His head was hanging slightly between his shoulders and his hair looked slightly disheveled from the back.
Harry crossed to the fireplace and sat down, letting the dim light bask his body. "Do you know what this is?" he asked, holding his wand up in the flat of his palm.
After a short silence, Ron's voice sailed over the back of the couch. "It's a wand. It's your wand."
"No," said Harry, chuckling once. "This is Voldemort's wand."
Another silence followed.
"Not only is this Voldemort's wand," Harry continued. "This is the wand that's going to kill him. This wand is going to deliver the final, killing blow that will end this war. This wand is the deliverer of justice, a tool designed to tear the last seventh of Voldemort's soul from his pathetic body."
The fire shone on the polished black wood of the wand causing the surface to appear as though it was rippling. This simple shred of wood, Harry mused, which he trustily served him for half his life would take the life of the man who took the life of his parents, his Godfather and his friend. It was a worthy fate, Harry determined, and smiled grimly.
"Can I touch it," said Ron's quiet whisper from just behind Harry's head.
Harry raised the wand into the air and Ron's hand picked it up. For a moment Harry could hear the swish and flick as Ron swung his arm, likely running through the motions with which he imagined fighting Voldemort.
The portrait hole was open and Hermione slowly crossed to the center of the room. The sound of swishing died down and Harry turned in his seat to see Ron's and Hermione's eyes locked as they shared a brief moment of understanding.
"Hello, Hermione," said Harry after a while, breaking their stare. "I think we're all set."
"Good," said Hermione with a smile. "I heard your speech-sorry, I couldn't help it." A slight blush crept onto her face. "Did you mean it? All of it?"
Harry's eyes darkened and he walked around, sitting back against the top of the couch where he had been lying. He stared at the wand in Ron's hand and then back up at Hermione. Ron twirled it one last time in his fingers before sliding it into the front pocket of Harry's robes.
Harry looked up and made eye contact with Hermione.
"Yes," he said determinedly. "I'm going to kill him."
* * *
A/N:
What do you think? Is it realistic enough? Hopefully I haven't botched everything.
I'm interested in your response.
Thanks for reading.
Until next time…
-->