Phantasmagoria
Viopathartic
A/N: 22 reviews. Not too shabby on my first chapter.
So many of you said that I have to continue because the plot doesn't reveal anything and can't be predicted; therefore I need 1..2..3 more chapters.
You're not supposed to know what is gonna happen. In fact, the ending I made leads to no sure conclusion. So the point is, I'm writing this so people can guess. Sure I might be crazy (repeating ahmedmansoor's review)….MUAHAHAHA kidding. Only I'm not. Or am I?
(dramatic music comes in)
This chapter will not reveal much, just something in between. You'll learn more in the third chapter. Something that actually relates to the plot.
Go ahead and read before I annoy you even more!
…you're a wizard, Harry...his mum and dad waving at him from the mirror and he smiled, wishing that they were with him…Harry -- you're a great wizard, you know...Books! And cleverness! There are more important things...friendship and bravery...he flew into Sirius' embrace…just like James you are…good one, Harry…AVADA KEDAVRA…we're with you till the end, Harry…you have the ability to do great things, Harry…love is the power he knows not…we love you, Harry…
Yes, it'll be fine...everything will be after this...
The Boy-Who-Conquered opened his eyes.
Harry trembled in effort to sit up. Every muscle in his body felt as if it were on fire. He felt a hand stopping him from moving anymore. Having no more strength to resist, Harry fell back, his head against the pillow. Slowly, he turned his head to see whose hand it was.
"Ron?" he croaked, his throat slightly dry.
"Yeah mate. I'm here." Ron answered but where was Hermione?
"Hermione?" Harry said out loud, hoping to God that she wasn't--
"She's fine too, but she was a bit tired so…"
Harry could breathe again. He swallowed, breathing through his nose. His arm reached over to the nightstand for his glasses, but he felt them being handed to him. Slowly, he put them on and looked at Ron, seeing if anything else had happened to him.
Ron appeared unharmed apart from a few scratches on his face and a bandage on the lower portion of his right arm. Harry remembered that he was cut by a watered down version of Sectumsempra by Wormtail. The former Marauder traitor had tried to escape in the beginning of the battle but was apprehended by Lupin and Ron.
"I feel like I've been run over by the Hogwarts Express," groaned Harry. Ron gave off a low, hollow laugh at this. Harry didn't like the sound of it; his laugh wasn't as genuine. What happened?
"You had a broken arm and bleeding some, but Madam Pomfrey took care of it. I reckon you might be a little sore, but otherwise you're fine, mate."
Harry nodded, closing his eyes. Fine. He liked the word "nice" but the way Ron had said it…
"Ginny's dead."
Green eyes shot open and again, Harry tried to sit up but Ron pushed him down. "W-What?"
"She was killed by Voldemort's AK curse when you were battling," he answered, succinctly.
Even though he didn't love her, he still kept his reason--that being far away from Voldemort was for the best and that Ginny wouldn't get hurt.
Ron whispered, "We have to get some of her stuff out. Possessions of those who passed in battle must go to family. Even though you and Ginny were not together..."
"Ron, I--" began Harry but Ron held up a finger. Harry shut his mouth and watched as his friend swallowed, struggling to come up with words.
"I know you don't fancy her anymore, but...it's what Ginny would have wanted. She loved you."
Harry nodded.
"Where's Hermione now?" he dared to ask. Ron merely shrugged.
"She's all over the place," he shook his head and lifted his eyes to meet his friend on the bed. "Mate, she's blaming herself for Gin's death."
"What? No--Hermione," whispered Harry to himself. How could she even think that?
"We were watching you, mate, after we finished the Death Eaters. We were waiting too. When V-Voldemort released the Avada Kedavra curse, Hermione didn't see it. She was too busy watching you and cheering you on...she didn't even notice it. But Ginny did. She saw Hermione and leapt up and pushed her aside. Then--"
Ron looked away and out towards the window. His chin trembled in effort to not let the tears flow. Harry couldn't say anything; Ron had lost his little sister. He couldn't imagine how the entire Weasley family must feel. Charlie, Percy, and George had already gone. Now they had lost the youngest female in the family. They would never have their baby back.
"I tried to talk to Hermione, but…I don't know, Harry," whispered Ron, his head falling into his hands.
After a few minutes of silence, Ron stood up.
"When you're ready..."
The charm that protected the girls' dormitory from the boys was lifted. Hogwarts didn't care at the moment. They reckoned it'd be wrong to forbid anyone of comfort in a time of need where everyone had lost someone they loved.
As he expected, Ginny's room was vacant. Either her roommates had gone home or they were recovering in the hospital or they were dead. Harry would have been disgusted at the morbid thoughts if he was younger. But he knew the possibilities and learned not to dwell on them. It was only fact.
As a matter of fact, the whole school seemed to be empty. Harry didn't seen one student in the halls while he was passing through. Maybe they all went home. Since Harry didn't have a home, he was the only one who stayed.
Harry recognized Ginny's bed by the picture of him and her that stood on the nightstand. Nothing else surrounded it; it almost reminded him of a shrine because of its flower painted frame and the smooth texture of the photograph shone by the light. The picture was taken a few weeks before Dumbledore's funeral. Harry couldn't believe it was even him. He looked so normal. So carefree. So happy.
He knew he could never be that way again.
Solemnly, Harry shuffled to the side of Ginny's bed, lifted the beddings underneath and got down to his knees. He felt around until his hand collided with cold metal. He grasped the handle and pulled towards him. Naturally the trunk was secondhand; it appeared old and broken from years of use by her brothers. On top, the initials B.W. were crossed out and replaced by a G.W etched in black.
His hands hesitated as they rested against the locks. He was afraid and anxious of what he might find underneath. The trunk held his ex-girlfriend's history, her personal items, and everything about her that he liked. Leisurely, one lock at a time, Harry snapped them open and threw back the top of the trunk.
The first thing he saw was her Quidditch supplies. On top and easy to grab. Ginny had found her talent and spot on the team when she was alive. She did everything to keep it that way.
Next, he found three vials lying at the bottom of the trunk. Curious, Harry scooped all three into his hand and looked closer. Two were empty while the last held some sort of white, almost clear substance with spiraling steams. He opened the vial and smelled treacle tart, a woody scent that he remembered as the scent of his favorite Firebolt, and...(He took another sniff) ink and parchment paper.
Suddenly, it dawned on him.
He didn't do anything at first. Shock had taken over his body; Harry could only remain in his squatting position and ignore the pain of supporting his body with only his legs. One by one, he dropped the vials until they rolled to the bottom and under the other items back to where he found them.
Love was something that can never be tampered with.
Harry learned that when he watched the memory of Merope Gaunt from Dumbledore's pensieve. \
Look at who was born from the so-called "love" between the witch and the muggle.
Harry clenched his hands in fists. He left everything of Ginny's in her old room. Right now he didn't want anything of hers near because it might tempt him to break everything.
He should be feeling sorry. But at the moment, shock and betrayal came to mind whenever he thought of his former girlfriend.
He stopped in the middle of the grounds and finally raised his head, squinting a bit when the sun shone in his eyes. He lifted his hand over his eyes to ease the blinding light and focused on a figure. Someone was at the tree.
Harry took a glance around. No one was near. Who was it by the tree near the Black Lake and sitting so forlornly?
Becoming too much of a habit, his wand was immediately withdrawn from the pockets of his trouser. He crouched low, bending his knees a little and sedately made his way over to the spot by the lack. Even as he came closer, the face of the person still remained unseen. The person was slouched against the tree and his/her cloak was covering the back of head, not allowing Harry to see if the person was male or female.
He was about 10 feet away when he suddenly heard a tearful sniff. Oddly enough, Harry recognized the sniff.
"Hermione?"
There was a small squeak of surprise and then silence. Somewhere under the cloak, a head nodded almost hesitantly.
Harry lowered his wand and crouched down beside her. Reaching up his hand, he brought the cloak away from his friend's face, bundling it up in his hands. Then he glanced at Hermione, making sure that she was okay, that she was fine.
Hermione was in a state. She still hadn't changed out of the outfit from the Battle. There was blood splattered in some areas.
"Hermione, your clothes," he spoke softly, tucking a strand of her dirty hair behind an ear.
She made noise that was in between a sob and the word "no". "I'm fine," she said even though he never asked her a question. Are you?"
"No," he answered softly.
Hermione merely nodded, as if she understood what he was feeling completely.
His hand held the side of her face and his thumb caressed her dirtied cheek that smeared with tears. Hermione closed her eyes and leaned into his hand.
It pained his heart to see his Hermione look so sad. She turned her head away so that she gazed over the Black Lake in a serene state. Harry couldn't see the large Squid that usually came up to wave a tentacle whenever they were near. Maybe he was in mourning too.
Strangely the area was void of sound. No birds, no insects….nothing.
"Mate, she's blaming herself for Gin's death."
It wasn't her fault, Harry thought fiercely. It's not you're fault!
Gradually, he lowered himself to the ground so that he could sit next to Hermione against the tree. Without a word, he gathered her in his arms and felt his heart soar when Hermione wrapped her arms around his middle. She leant her head against his chest and curled up at his side.
They rested in each other arms and eventually, Harry found himself being embraced by her and not the other way around.
"I'm sorry, Harry," she whispered painfully. Her arms stopped holding him but he stayed in the same position. He inclined his head so that he could see her and blinked. "Ginny saved me."
"Don't."
Harry raised himself so that his arms could wrap around his friend again. Hermione fitted her head under his chin and curled beside his body. "Don't regret living. Don't say that you should have been the one to die. If you did, you wouldn't be here, talking to me, holding me. If you weren't here, I-"
Harry shook his head at the thought. That will never happen. His arms tightened around her and for a moment he thought that he was crushing her. Instead, Hermione let out a sob and buried herself closer.
"I'm still so sorry! Ginny, I know that you loved her and-"
"I didn't," replied Harry succinctly.
"What?" Hermione whispered.
"I found the potion," Harry said slowly, suddenly surprised at how weary and tired he sounded. Hermione leisurely lifted her head, her expression harboring surprise.
"Potion?" Her voice cracked at the last syllable.
With his throat suddenly dry, Harry simply nodded.
"Oh Harry." Hermione moved from his embrace and sat up alone. She leant her head against the tree, sighing. He didn't know if she knew about the potion or not, but even so, Hermione would never let Ginny do such a thing.
"She really liked you," whispered Hermione after awhile.
"I know."
"She stopped right after you broke up with her."
"Really? Well, that's good," said Harry sarcastically. There it was again. The feeling of betrayal creeping in his body.
"You would have never noticed her if it weren't for the potion!"
"Precisely the point. Using a potion to get my attention was mean and low."
"Harry--"
"Just like Merope had done."
"Harry!" Hermione scolded, giving him a shocked look.
He glared at her for a moment before his expression softened and he forced his anger to go away. He knew Hermione was right. Ginny was not like Merope Gaunt, Tom Riddle's squib-like mother, who used a love potion on Tom Riddle Senior, a muggle, to make him fall in love with her. Ginny may have been vivacious and mischievous just like her twin brothers but she was not as shallow as Merope.
"Didn't you feel normal when you were with her? Didn't you feel happy all the time?"
Harry felt more than happy. He felt as if he was a totally different person--a person who had only school to worry about and a girlfriend to snog. Not the Chosen One or the Boy-Who-Lived.
Hermione sighed and averted her gaze from Harry. "I say you needed that. Got your mind off of Voldemort."
When he didn't answer, Hermione said, "Okay. How full was the love potion?"
Harry finally lifted his head and gave her a questioning look. "How much was in it when you found it in Ginny's trunk?"
"I don't know. I think it was full." Harry replied reluctantly.
"There. Ginny must have stopped applying the potion after you left Hogwarts. That shows that she had reasoned with herself and realized that using the potion to get you was impure and unfair to you," reasoned Hermione.
Apparently it didn't help Harry any more.
"Come here," she ordered gently. Harry scooted to her side and rested his head on her shoulder. Hermione's arm encircled around his back and came together with the other in the front. She pulled him close.
Hermione was the only one who could do this. No one has ever hugged him like this. Mrs. Weasley was the other, but her hugs were always big as if she hasn't seen him in a long time. Hermione's hugs were the "I'm here with you" kind. Gentle, warm, caring.
"It was mean of Ginny to do that, I know, but she only wanted you to love her. And even though it wasn't true love, you gave her something she wanted all her childhood,"
"It wasn't love, then," his voice muffled against her shoulder. "A person who loves someone else don't use love potions to get the other's attention….now I don't have anyone's love.
"Don't worry, Harry. You still have me." Harry smiled in her embrace, not even noticing the tears that began to trail down his cheeks.
It was the hurt that made him cry. He was okay with her death now; like Hermione had said, there were bound to be casualties. But Harry felt betrayed even though Hermione tried to tell him that Ginny had good intentions. What he thought was his first love was actually a big hoax.
He stayed in Hermione's arms, relishing the feel of his head against her chest and her arms that gave him a sense of security.
"You stay with me. Forever," he declared thickly, blinking away his tears.
"Forever," Hermione echoed back, closing her eyes at the same time as Harry.
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