"-The tension in the British parliament is now building up. Certain sources have said that rumors of a surprise bombing at Greater London would happen this Sunday, April 13th. The facts are yet to be straightened, yet we alert all citizens to live in caution as the investigation goes on."
Seamus stared blankly at the fading television screen. His chest rose and descended slowly, but his heart palpitated otherwise. His hands shook in the sudden coldness that coursed throughout his body, and he suddenly felt lightheaded by the pressure clouding in his head. The surrealism of everything not only bewildered him, but his companion as well.
"I couldn't believe it. That's just bloody insane!" He suddenly exclaimed, startling the young woman beside him.
"Oh, don't act so surprised. We had it coming anyway. You know the lot of them, sneaking up on you even in times of recuperation."
"Oh, sure. The whole of Greater London had a clue that some lot of merciless arseholes planned on bombing our entirety and dispersing us from the face of the earth!" The young woman looked at him with a mix of disbelief and disgust, just as her arms folded across her chest.
"Merlin Seamus, you don't have to be so bloody sarcastic about everything!" She exclaimed. Seamus heaved an audible sigh before standing up and heading for the kitchen. Ginny Weasley was left on the couch, scowling after his retreating figure.
"Oh, sod off Ginny! You know the whole world's coming to another end which we all have to endure…again!" He exclaimed from the kitchen, before coming out with a glass of whiskey on each hand. He handed one to Ginny, who grabbed it with no trace of gratefulness.
"Oh, listen to yourself. Some end of the world prophecy wouldn't answer that report. It may or may not be true!"
"Fine! What makes you say this isn't true?" He eyed the red-head intently as she opened her mouth, yet nothing came out. She frowned the next second, before huffing in defeat.
"You see? This is true!"
"But it's just a rumor, Seamus. A rumor would always be a rumor. I still stand by the possibility that this may be another scam to keep us paranoid, while the government does something behind our backs!" Seamus fell silent. He closed his eyes quietly, just as images of the bar's incident flashed in his mind. He'd seen and heard personally what was being planned, and he had a good feeling that the first phase was nearing.
"You know what? Why are we arguing about this anyway? Screw the government, and screw those arseholes for fooling us. We have our own lives to worry about." Ginny took a small sip of whiskey from her glass, before twirling it slowly between her fingers. Yet she still noticed the befuddled expression on Seamus' face, and started to worry about him.
"Seamus? Are you all right?"
"You're wrong, Ginny." He whispered.
"I beg your pardon?"
"You're wrong. All of this is real. I know it, and I know it'll happen. Innocent lives won't be spared from this, and I'm not going to be the first to witness the death of someone I love."
"Seamus, what are you talking about?" Ginny now stood up and laid a hand on his shoulder, only to be shrugged away immediately.
"I heard them talking about it. They were serious. Those bloody scums were serious!" The anxiety that flashed in Seamus eyes made Ginny worry completely. He started to pace around the small room, going back and fourth repetitively as Ginny watched, unsure of what to do and how to react.
"Scums? What? Seamus, please calm down!"
"I will not calm down, Ginny!" The sudden raise in his voice startled Ginny as she stood still on her spot. Seamus was breathing heavily in paranoia, and Ginny held her head down in befuddlement. She glanced up slightly, only to find Seamus' face filled with so much conviction.
"I-I have to go." He whispered.
"Where?"
"To someone who'd be affected by this the most." He walked briskly towards the door, his coat wrapped securely around him, before exiting without a word. Ginny stood immobile for a minute, before grabbing for her coat and running after him.
-thepianist-
Harry stared blankly at the static-filled television. The news was reported hours ago, yet he remained still on the couch. He felt it beneath his skin, tingling and boiling. He felt it hover heavily in the atmosphere, and it made fear surface inside of him. The imminent fear of what was yet to come stay put beneath his chest, which rose and descended heavily. It was the same the last time: Parliamentary arguments, destruction threats, allies of different sorts, and death. It was a cycle he had already endured before, and a cycle that brought him the worst case of trauma he had ever experienced. Witnessing, in person, the death of both his parents was hard enough for him. Loosing his only family was worse.
He pondered greatly on the chances of it resurfacing again. Signs of an uprising are evident, and it brought tears to his eyes to know that he would be witnessing the same sight of suffering as last time. If history were to ever repeat itself, he would rather take his own life in fulfillment, rather than die begging for mercy from the worst kind of people.
He feared for the chaos that was to happen. He feared for the innocent. He feared for those lacking a second chance. He feared, surprisingly not for himself, but for someone else that brought him immediate heartache. Seemingly, the mere thought of Hermione getting hurt scared him to no end. The mere thought of hearing her cry in pain made him feel a sudden protectiveness that was impenetrable. He sat there immobile, unsure of what to say or what to think next.
The doorbell rang insistently.
He refused to stand.
The doorbell rang again.
He merely wanted to sulk.
A knock was heard.
In all irritation and curiosity, he pushed himself off forcibly from the couch amidst his body's refusal to.
The door opened.
She stood there meekly, her dress billowing forcefully by her side. Her hair was in a frivolous state, with loose strands hanging from her bun. She looked exhausted. It was then that he noticed the small tears that seemed to be dripping to her cheeks. She glanced up at him, her cheeks flushed and rosy from the cold.
"Hello Harry-" Her whisper was cut short upon Harry's thumb caressing the lone tear by the side of her lips. Her cinnamon eyes sparkled effervescently at him, as he showed an indignant expression of worry. Instantly, she wrapped her arms around him, sobbing by his shoulders and exclaiming in pure sadness.
"It's okay, Hermione." He whispered in her ear, instantly sending shoots of calmness in her. He traced small circles by her back, the breeze from the open space ubiquitously swirling around them. "I'm here."
She calmed down at the latter statement. Her hand snaked through his neck, down his chest, before finding themselves back by her sides. For an infinitesimal moment, Harry had felt an overwhelming sensation by the pit of his stomach, which he hid calmly from her. He looked down at her, who seemed to be recuperating from the cry she gave moments ago.
He closed the door behind them, suddenly feeling the entirety of the wind vacuum out of the mansion. He held her by her waist, before slowly leading her to the couch. Somehow, the grasp of his hand made her feel secure.
They sat down, Harry being polite enough to let go and sit a safe distance away from her. She was calm now, yet her eyes didn't seem to sparkle in joy like before. It seemed sober from something. It showed desperation and depression, and all Harry wanted to do was make it better.
"I'm scared, Harry." She whispered, barely making her voice audible enough for Harry to hear.
"Scared? Why?"
"I'm scared on what's happening. It's all resurfacing." There was an uncertainty in her voice, which made Harry fear greatly for her.
"I'm scared too, Hermione. But honestly, it's something we could not avoid."
"I'm scared for our lives, Harry. Everywhere isn't safe anymore. People I treasure dearly couldn't even be trusted anymore. And the last person, on whom holds the key to my trust, is in danger." With her sudden momentum, she couldn't help but stand listlessly. Harry, having seen her sudden action, decided to do the same.
He stared at her, just as her eyes penetrated through his. It was melancholy, yet aggressive that it tugged at his heart to find her in such a state of befuddlement. In a sudden movement, He felt her hands entwine within his, which sparked an infinite joy inside of him. He stared at the entwined figures, and felt his heart palpitate with an unpredictable glee.
"Harry, you're the only person I trust now. The last thing I'd want is to loose you to this." These words seemed to engrave itself into his head. Her voice was soft and meaningful, and sincerity seemed to overflow with each tear that trickled down her cheek once again. He tried to reply, but the stare that seemed to seep into him held him back.
"Hermione, the last thing I'd want is to see you so vulnerable like this. Just tell me what's all this about, and maybe I could help you." He said this gently, yet she seemed to stand firmer than usual.
"I can't do that, Harry. I can't jeopardize anything."
"Please, Hermione. Tell me."
"No. I just want you to keep the promise that you would keep yourself safe."
"Hermione, how could I promise something if I don't know why I'm promising it in the first place! Please, Hermione." His pleading eyes were irresistible, yet Hermione remained firm.
"No, Harry!"
"Why not?"
"Because!" The frustration was now evident in her voice, just as it strained within her throat. She coughed momentarily, before turning back to face him, whose face seemed to show mutuality with hers.
"Give me a good reason, Hermione. Give me a good reason why you shouldn't tell me." His face frowned slightly, which made his grip on her hand tighten gradually. She held back a sob, her emotions suddenly so volatile.
"Harry, please. I don't want to."
"Just tell me, Hermione!"
"It's because I care about you too much!" her voice reverberated in her head. I care about you too much. There was an awkward silence that followed, one that was impenetrable. Her hands slowly untwined with his, and Harry suddenly felt the emptiness seep back into him.
"I'm sorry." She whispered. Before he could reply, she had already ran through the doors, leaving him alone once again.
It was cold.
It stabbed through his heart and left him breathless. Suddenly, the urge to chase after her rose inside of him. Then again, he held the temptation back and chose to let her be. The sudden loneliness was heartless. It made him feel unwanted once again. And right now, he was just as vulnerable as she was.
He hated vulnerability.
With these thoughts cluttering his brain, he walked silently through the living room before placing himself slowly by his piano. Had he wished that everything were simpler those times. He had also wondered on the small underlying fact the world and all its complexity had to exist.
He sat down and played. The notes resounded around the room.
Dance of the Demon.
It was Eduard Remick's masterpiece, played last 1906. Harry remembered the score sheet vividly when he and Sirius browsed through the attic.
Harry played each note forcefully. The sweat started to form by his forehead, but he kept on going. Tears collected in his eyes, blurring his vision momentarily. As he reached the historical ending, the tears rolled down his cheeks, soaking a G on the piano. He sighed. He missed his parents dearly, and the lingering thought of them beside him still remained alive in his mind.
"Happy anniversary, mum and dad."
The doorbell rang.
He wiped the tears off his cheeks.
It rang again.
In an instant, he got off the chair and walked briskly to the door, where he had hoped on seeing Hermione smiling back at him once again.
He opened it.
He was greeted by a set of blue eyes. Those on whom he recalled from his childhood days, where on a certain fateful day, he gained the infamous scar on his head.
"Hi. You must be Harry. I'm-" Familiarization seeped through him.
"Ginny. Of course, how could I forget?"
One glance at his emerald eyes was all it took for Ginny to forget all possible intentions.
---thepianist---
A/N: I'm sorry for the terribly late update. A lot had happened these past months that I haven't had the proper time to update. If you want the main reason why I've suddenly become idle is due to the fact that I lost a father recently. He died last month and we're still recuperating from his loss. I hope all of you understand. So forgive me if this entry may seem boring, too sad or emotional, or even crappy. I'll make it up to all of you somehow.