The Begging of The New
Cheers...
Muffled and a little far away cheers were all he could hear.
Looking around, rubble and destruction were all he could see. The once beautiful and lively castle he learnt to call home gave nothing but a sense of despair and sadness. Although there was cheering going on behind him, none of it reached him.
He just stood there thinking about how it was finally over. All the years that lead him here. All those years he knew this moment was coming: die or kill. And oh how he hated the thought of this moment.
All he ever wanted was peace and happiness. A safe place away from the family that detested his mere existence. Showing it every time they'd hurt him, abused him, and made him hate ever being born in the first place.
’This should not have been my life‘, he thought. Trapped in his own head while everyone else celebrated the death of Lord Voldemort.
Looking at the man's corpse there on the ground; Dead. Dead like every person whose blood was spilt on the ground of a place that should've been a safe haven.
’He's nothing anymore. All this madness, the mass killing, the terror. All of this and his body is just lying there like it's nothing but an empty husk‘, Harry pondered, standing will his nemesis no longer was in this world. Voldemort is now on the way to become nothing but history. ’Tom Marvolo Riddle, Voldemort, The Dark Lord, You-Know-Who. Now he's going to become nothing but a memory for some, and history for so many others in the future.‘
Looking down at his hand, vision still dazed after the duel, he saw it. The wand that killed so many, the one who killed Voldemort. Gripping it tight, Harry could feel its power. So strong now he was paying attention to it that he almost let's the wand fall. The magic of the Elder Wand flows through Harry's body, nearly as naturally as the boy's own magic or the blood in his veins. He feels an odd kind of comfort from the magic coursing through him now. As if being hugged by the power now in him, Harry relaxes a little bit.
The people behind him finally get his attention. Looking in their direction Harry gazes around. Happy faces, cheerful smiles and people hugging each other. He sees Ron and Hermione sharing a kiss, Neville and Luna hugging, and the rest of the Weasleys in a family embrace. Everybody, it's in a state of euphoria, people Harry knows as well as the ones he doesn't. Lord Voldemort is dead. They are free.
Harry, however, does not feel this happiness. He doesn't know why but all he feels is an emptiness and the wand magic going through him, bringing little comfort. Just enough so he can resist falling down crying.
’That's it now‘, Harry thinks ’The reason I got this far. The reason I was raised as a sacrificial lamb. The only reason people seemed to care about me when I entered this world. Perhaps it was still the only reason people cared. Harry James Potter, The Boy-Who-Lived, the saviour of the wizard world.‘
Becoming bitter by the moment, Harry could only look at the people celebrating and feel an immense sense of unappreciation.
’How can they be so happy?‘, Happy spat in his head ’So many have died. My parents, Sirius, Remus, Fred... so so many. And yet they celebrate so openly. Merlin, I died! All this death and they look so joyful.‘
It did not go unnoticed by Harry that no one approached him. Not his friends, not the Weasleys, not even the people who loved to throw themselves at him in the past. It was as if his job was done and now he's nothing but a ghost. He doesn't feel like a hero but more like an executioner. He did the job that had been assigned to him before he could even know how to speak and knew they didn't need him anymore.
Harry takes a few steps towards his friends.
Hermione looks at him with an odd look at first but then she smiles. A fake one, Harry can tell, then Ron looks to where Hermione is looking at. His eyes lock with Harry's. Nothing. There's nothing there. The warmth of before no longer lingering in Ron's sight.
Harry doesn't notice when Mrs. Weasley suddenly is behind Ronald, hugging him, and then extending the hug to Hermione. She never looks a Harry. She drags Ron and Hermione to where the rest of the Weasleys are, leaving Harry alone, standing close to where they were just now.
Something breaks inside de Boy-Who-Lived. Feeling detached from everything and everyone, forgotten by those whom he calls friends, Harry turns around and starts to walk towards the bridge and away from Hogwarts.
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Walking without a target in sight Harry just keeps going, and with every step, the hole inside his chest just feels like it's getting bigger. The emptiness becomes so strong that not even the power of the wand can stop it from consuming Harry's mind.
’Do not worry so, my friend...‘, a voice says, making Harry stop and look around.
No one is there.
"Am I finally losing it?", he asks himself out loud.
As if amused, the voice chuckles, making Harry tighten his grip on the wand.
"Who's there? Show yourself!", he shouts, looking around as he does it.
A gush of wind passes through Harry, making him shiver from the cold.
’Fear not, Harry‘, the voice says in the boy's head ’I am nothing but a friend.‘
Suddenly Harry feels the magic of the wand go through him once more, embracing him with its warmth.
Harry feels now like he's in a park, surrounded by trees coloured by autumn. He relaxes, accepting the presence that courses through his veins and skin.
"Who are you?", he whispers.
’A friend... and a guide.‘