Something to Remember

Something to Remember

Disclaimer: I own nothing, all the characters from the books are J.K Rowling's. I just make these stories for you entertainment.

Flash.

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A sigh passed his lips as he unpacked the last of the boxes from the back of the U-Haul, with little help from the actual people who were supposed to do it. It took them about twice the time to actually get stuff done because they were too busy joking around about things, punching each other in the arm and wrestling on the ground in the hot sun without their shirts on, having the occasional passing women, and a few men to stare at them with lusting eyes. He wasn't paying attention though, because he didn't care.

He was married now.

"Thanks for helping out guys!!" he gave a laugh as he punched one of them in the arm lightly, flexing his muscles and sticking his tongue out. "Anytime!" one of them called from the truck as they closed the back of it, and hopped into it. "Anytime!"

The young man popped his knuckles and headed inside to the cool air conditioning and to a glass of mineral water he had gotten from a bottle in the refrigerator. "'Mione, we're done getting the stuff from the truck!!” He ran a dirt, sweat ridden hand through his unruly jet black hair and closed his eyes, leaning back on the counter, taking in the sweet scent of...well...air...it smelled good...it smelled of new life, a life he was about to start...

With his new wife.

Harry Potter coughed a little. It was way too quiet in this place, and everybody knew how he despised the silence almost more than anything in the entire world. Silence, and death went hand-in-hand for him. So, he set the bottle of water on the counter and went over to the stereo system and the TV, which had been the first things to set up in the family room. He was bored, so he pulled out one of his CDs that he had brought; he had grown to pick out quite a collection in his years after Hogwarts. It was a random one, and he slipped it in, not caring which one it was as he started to unpack things from boxes, like movies and video games that he had. He would play once they got settled in.

Heh, heh. They.

He was married.

Harry caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and gave a smile. He was nicely built, but not too muscular, Quidditch had done him good, he always told himself. His skin was lightly toned, he had gotten a tan throughout his years, and finally too! He was tired of being pale. Right now, his shirt was still off, and his black pants were slightly baggy, his black and white vans looked slightly dirty from the wrestling outside with the other movers, yeah...that was pretty normal for him. After moving into the states he had acquired an all new sense of style. It seemed that the dress robes and school uniforms went away with all of his foreboding.

He was a whole new Harry.

He was singing along to a song that was playing as he bounced up and down on the floor happily, he turned the music up to full blast, having the house shaking and vibrating. He was hyper, he should have the right to be...it had just dawned on him.

He was married.

No, it wasn't like he had realized that on the Honeymoon that they had...or the day that they actually married each other. No...he had just realized it, and he was ecstatic about it. He was finally free! Free of everything. Free of death, free of life, free of hurt, pain and suffering, free of everything, everything except himself, and his new wife. Hermione Granger.

Almost as if hearing his thoughts she appeared from upstairs and hurried to turn down the stereo, as he knew she was. She had a scolding, yet very amused look on her face “Harry….”

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Another flash.

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Harry was holding a small child by the hands, walking him across the floor. The child had soft sand brown hair and piercing green eyes that seemed to light up as he laughed. “Come on Rohan, that's my boy, you can do it.” Harry helped him walked from one point to another. “Alright, good boy, come on, daddy will help you.” Harry moved to begin walking again, when Rohan tripped and fell onto his face and began wailing, Harry could hear Hermione rushing from the kitchen to help.

Harry bent down to pick him up and cradled him in his arms. “Shh, it's okay, baby, it's okay, Daddy's here.” He kissed his son's toes and nibbled on them to make the child smile, then blew on his stomach, tickling Rohan's sides. The boy giggled “Da-…. dad…. daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy!” he repeated the word as if making a conversation out of it…. and Harry almost dropped him again, out of shock of the words out of his son's mouth. They were actual words!! Or well…one word…but that wasn't the point here. “His first words!” Hermione swooned over the baby, taking him from Harry as he sat down, in slight stupor.

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Flash, flash, flash, another memory, then another, then another.

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They wouldn't stop. `Please', he begged, `Just make them stop!!'

He didn't want to remember, but he didn't want to forget it either. As silver tears trickled down his face, and dripped off his jaw, he fell to the floor and began banging on it, wailing like his son had done those months ago. Bang. Sob. Bang. Sob. Sob. Bang. White turned to red as he smashed his fingers on the walls, the floors, and the concrete and metal slab that they called a door. His blood smeared all over himself, and the walls of what he had called his home for the past few months. He took out his rage on himself and the tile, which was now dripping with the stench of fresh blood, and he sat, and sat….

And sat some more, in the farthest corner of the room, rocking himself, and hugging his knees close under his overly baggy clothes. “Make them stop…” He whispered over and over again. He noticed, for the first time that his glasses were off of his face. He felt around the floor, still sobbing, the sweat, the tears, and the blood trailing down his face, and eventually entering his mouth as he found his glasses. Thrown, disregarded at the side of the room, one of the lenses cracked on the left side, and one of the rims bent to where the other lens was barely hanging on.

Harry Potter clambered back into fetal position, this time lying on his pallet that was also, as everything else was, spattered with blood. He heard the door to his four-walled cell, opening, closing, and then, a shadow over his closed eyes. He opened them and looked to one of his Nurses. Cho Chang.

From becoming a friend, to a girlfriend, to an enemy, to a friend, and then out of contact for the longest time Cho had heard about Harry from back in England. News spread like wildfire from the Daily Prophet through the world that the Boy-Who-Lived had finally fallen…and not even from the Dark Lord. She rushed to help him, but was not surprised to see….that all hope left to the Boy-Who-Lived was all but gone. Abandoned with the rest of his life.

Harry said nothing, and sat up, holding out his hands. He knew why she was there, to clean his cuts, talk to him, then give him his shots, administer his sleeping pills and then leave. “Harry…” her voice was calm, and yet accusing…. like Hermione's had been—at her name in his head he flinched violently, though, not enough to make Cho flinch back. “It's okay, Harry, it's okay.” She cleaned him up good, pretending not to notice the blood everywhere; she was there to talk to him before the cleaning of the room.

“So…what's going on?”

He looked at her, his eye twitching madly. “Oh…I don't know…. blood…the killing of my son and my lover going through my mind over and over…. and over….” He repeated the last words for a little while before tears began to well up in his eyes. He looked away, feeling them cascading from his eyes and down his cheeks. As much as they said he was crazy, he was still very sane…or rather, he could talk in complete sentences, and was still very aware that he had a brilliant brain.

“Harry….that is…you can't change that.”

“I know that!”

“The Dark Lord…he must have…”

“I know that!!.”

“You never could ha-“

“I KNOW THAT!!!”

There was a sigh, a rustle of her robes, and then a switch of position.

“Just leave.”

“But-“

“Do what you have to do and leave.” His voice was calmer now…calmer than he would have expected, at least.

“I wish you could let it go Harry…. it was years ago….”

“You didn't see them die Cho, you didn't see their bodies…just there…. all the blood…just…. there…. Rohan was screaming you know. He was still alive…. with his…” he gave a violent shudder and then kept on, he needed to talk about this…. he didn't know why. He just had to. “His legs…. broken…. and arms…. that…. gash in his head, screaming bloody murder, under his mother! Hermione….” His voice cracked “She was laying right beside him…. her eyes still open…blinking…. whispering…. so dull…. so…. lifeless…her arms twisted…. to an angle…. this angle you wouldn't expect from a person…no…. not from Hermione…no… no-“

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Flash. Another memory.

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Harry had walked into the house, smiling, he couldn't wait to see Rohan and Hermione again, it was Rohan's fourth birthday and he had just been coming home with the cake from the store, the party would start in a little while. He opened the door, walked in, shut it, and walked into the house.

He dropped the cake.

He yelled.

He ran towards them. All of his motions seemed automated…they seemed…. not human. “No…no, baby please…. don't die…. shh, it's okay…Hermione, Rohan, shh….” He dropped down beside their crumpled bodies and picked up his small infant child in his arms and cradled him, but that only seemed to cause more blood. More screams of agony…

More pain.

He wasn't aware, but tears poured from his eyes, red and puffy they were, his nose running like a waterfall in the spring. “Baby, don't die on me…please…. I…. I need you…please, just, get up…. and we can go someplace…anywhere…away from here…. you just…. you just have to get up!” Rohan's crying was faint, but he was still alive nonetheless.

Hermione's eyes flicked to him, despite her pain she managed a soft, smile, which he knew was reserved just for him…“It's okay Harry…. I'm okay.” Her voice was strained…. she coughed up blood, and moaned in pain. As much as she tried to hide it…Harry knew how much it hurt her.

As much as he wanted to tell her not to talk, he couldn't muster it; he needed to hear her voice. Before she…

“Is…. is Ro-…Rohan okay?” she asked, her breath heaving, then more blood. Harry looked at the baby, who he realized…. wasn't crying…. wasn't breathing…wasn't alive anymore.

“He's fine” his voice was teary “He's just fine,”

“Oh, that's great….” She was silent for a moment, and Harry was afraid she was gone. Then she spoke.

“Harry?”

“Yes, `Mione.”

“Are you still there?”

“I'd never leave you….” He pulled her up and held her in his arms; no matter how much pain he caused her. He looked to his baby in one arm, and his wife who was more or less in his lap.

“It's so dark…and so cold…” To this he had nothing to say. He had nothing to say to his dying wife.

“Harry?” Her soft voice again.

“Yes?”

“I love…. I…love you…so much” she coughed, and wheezed. Blood. “Take…. t-….” She stopped talking, reached up, and ripped a chain from her neck, though, with little force and dropped it in his open hand. It was the locket he had given Hermione for their anniversary with a picture of Rohan, herself and him in it. Then she faded to black, no more life left in her body, and he sat there. He held his dead wife and child in his arms, and he sat, and sat.

And sat some more.

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Flash. Back to reality.

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Harry didn't know when Cho had gave him the shot, or the pills, but by the time he had finished his flashbacks he had realized that she had somehow gotten away with it and left. Harry fought to stay awake, to replay those thoughts in his mind…. but he couldn't fight the medicine. He felt under his pillow, drowsily for the gold jewelry piece he kept hidden from them, in fear it might be taken away. He clutched it between his fingers.

`Something to remember them by…' he thought before his eyes rolled back into his head and he fell back in his pallet.

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Flashback

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Harry looked up into the sky on that beautiful day in October, it was cool, the leaves were falling and the atmosphere held room for change. He was sitting in the park on a bench, gently holding Hermione Granger in his arms as she read a book that she had bought earlier that day.

“Hermione?” he asked.

“Yes, Harry?” she didn't stop reading, but he knew that she was still listening to him. She always was, always had, and always would.

“When we get older, will you marry me?” his voice was small, even if they were still young now, it just seemed like a question to ask. At this Hermione turned her head from her book to stare back at her boy who in turn stared at the cloudy sky. “Of course Harry. I'll marry you and I'll love you forever. I'll never leave your side.”

Harry felt tears welling up in his eyes but he willed them not to fall, why was he always so emotional? “You mean it? You promise?” He sounded like a little kid hoping for something he wanted badly.

She moved from his arms now, casting the book to the side to look at him properly. She took his face in her hands and stared into him. “Harry James Potter I will marry you and love you until we die and forever after that. Nothing can keep me away from you. I love you forever and eternity afterwards. I promise.”

She kissed him on the forehead and gave him a smile, a smile that had always been reserved for him in special moments like these.

“I love you too `Mione, always and forever.” He touched his lips to hers and they melted in that kiss, and by the change of the October wind…

They knew nothing could keep them apart.

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A/N: So tell me how you liked the story, give me feedback (both negative and positive). Be as harsh as you want, this is my first story and I plan to make better ones. Also tips would be greatly appreciated.

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