one
It was finally over; Voldemort was simply ash collected by the wind and moved on to somewhere else, somewhere without the pain and sorrow of deaths that he caused. The oppression, the intensity, the hardship finally had ended along with the brutal war that many friends, family, and foes had perished in. Harry could've laughed at the irony the situation the universe presented him with; he had finally killed Tom, but he was dying himself, yet throughout all his pain and the pain he had caused to his loved ones he felt as though it was a small price for the lives he had caused to be lost. Everyone's pain was temporary, but he had stopped the pain that would have lasted an eternity longer than any of them deserved. It was brutal and yet so calming to know that at least he would know people would be allowed to smile again, laugh again and love again without the fear of it all being ripped away so suddenly.
The wounds from the Dark Spells fired at him were finally piercing their way through his internal organs, slowing shutting his body down. He could almost hear the organs whirring down like a broken-down machine. Being killed from the inside out was different than he had imagined but then again, he did not think he would be killed by anything but the killing curse. The life force being drained form him was slowly becoming more visible through his clammy, pale skin but everyone was too ravelled up in their mourning to notice him. Although dying the moment was peaceful. If the curse had not of already been killing him then the juxtaposition would have finished him off. He knew in himself that this was meant to be a depressing, heart wrenching scene where people were crying over his dying body, and he let everyone know how much he loved them, but he could not bring himself to cause them anymore grief. Then the moment struck, the gut-wrenching pain overtook his adrenaline causing him to keel over. Harry waited for his eternally increasing heartbeat to give out, and kill him, and yet it never came all he felt was the unwavering pain. When he started this last battle with Tom, he knew there was a strong chance that he might not make it out alive and yet his belief in love conquers all had forced him into the belief that he would survive and that he had to live for what would the world do without The Boy Who Lived.
'At least I took Voldemort down with me,' Harry thought to himself, giving himself a slight smirk. Breathing was becoming a labouring task and he knew it would be his last minutes. The last minutes before the darkness consumed him and everything he knew and loved disappeared from his life as he knew it. Or rather he disappeared from his friends and families lives as they knew it.
A dazed smile crept on to his face, the delirium of blood loss and rising shock and panic finally taking full effect on his actions. Harry struggled to bring himself to his feet, trying to ignore the immense pain that came with the simple yet arduous task. Taking small shy steps, Harry James Potter, the boy-who-lived, slowly made his way to his friends; Hermione, though hit with a couple of bone-breaking curses, was seemingly well off- she had probably taken potions given to her and had spells cast by Pomfrey. he watched as Hermione went around helping to mend people, although she looked sad, there was a slight twinkle in her eye as she did what she loved most- caring for those who needed it. Between calming draughts and quick little spells to mend cuts and bruises she did what she could to ease others suffering and pain before they returned to their grieving.
Ron looked a little worse for wear; he had cuts, bruises, and lacerations all over his body; blood was starting to pool in his clothing but nothing to serious. Knowing him he most likely avoided Pomfrey in favour of her checking up on Hermione, he was totally infatuated by the girl that he grew up constantly fighting but that was there way of saying I love you to each other. Ron looked on from a distance with a sad smile as Hermione went from person to person. She could have been doing anything and Ron would still watch on in wonder at the girl he had been in love with since First Year.
"Harry!" Hermione called; the relief flooded her eyes as she saw him shuffling over towards Ron where she had also been wandering over to. She rushed over to him with Ron doing the same.
Harry forced a weak smile towards them; he felt the guilt start to collect at the bottom of his stomach. Or was that blood? Either way these would be the last memories his friends would have of him, and he was lying to them. He knew in his heart that he would spend these moments with some of the people he loved most, the people that he lived for, not that they knew that, and he was not going to tell them now. Even if through some kind of divine miracle, he walked away from this alive he would never tell them if he could avoid it.
"Are you alright, mate?" Ron asked, caution filling his eyes as he noticed Harry's smile falter. Ron was always good at noticing when Harry’s expression flickered, those split moments where he let all his emotion on show before putting the bright and headstrong persona back on show.
"Yeah," Harry lied through his back teeth, "Yeah, of course mate, I am The Boy-who-lived, after all when haven’t I walked away from a skirmish alive?” Sarcasm was his coping mechanism although he dropped the sarcastic tone for the sake of his lie. A tired grin appeared on his face to convince them. He was hoping and pleased when they assumed that it was simply from all the sleepless nights from being on guard and the nightmares from his connection with Voldemort.
"Well, we'll have Pomfrey look over you when she's done with the more critical patients." Hermione said in her ever so motherly voice. He nodded but knew that this would not be the case, his final moments where creeping up fast and he was not about to waste them being fussed over by the school nurse who probably wouldn’t even have the knowledge on how to save him, maybe if he hadn’t delayed and gone to see her immediately she could have done something for him. Even just stabilise him so he could have a few more moments but the last thing he wanted was a bed side vigil and people not treating him like Harry, just Harry.
Harry smiled, a truer one this time, compassion filled him. He would really miss his friends.
The three chatted, though Harry nodded and shrugged and even then, it was an arduous task. Ron and Hermione merely took that to be because he was tired. But that was not it at all; he was starting to lose his hearing a sharp whistling noise slowly overcoming his friends’ voices. That delightful symptom of death was being accompanied by an ever-increasing number of black spots in his vision taking away pieces of his friends’ faces and their surroundings.
Harry lightly shook his head to will the black spots away, he was determined to live as long as possible before Death would greet him as an old friend. He was certain that is what the book said at least.
The conversation had gone in the direction of garden gnomes- though Harry did not know when they had approached the subject- but he could not focus on when the topic of conversation had switched for the metallic taste in his mouth and pain increasing in his stomach. The nauseous feeling was slowly making its way up his throat. Aiming away from his friends, Harry vomited up what he thought to be his breakfast. Much to his dismay, it was the proof of the lie he had been keeping.
Blood.
"Oh my God! Harry!" Hermione shrieked loudly, gathering the attention of those who were still up and about. Seeing the pool of blood right in front of Harry, he was whisked off, being forcefully pulled towards and empty hospital bed. In an instant, Harry was surrounded by familiar faces. Faces that he soon would never see again.
"Ron...'Mione..." Harry called out, his voice raspy and weak. This was it; he needed to say goodbye. Everyone there new it. It was his time.
"Harry! Come on, stay with us!" Hermione exclaimed in a panicked and worried voice. Harry was certain she was casting complex diagnostic charms, he waved towards her wand to get her full attention. The worry on Hermione's face was prominent even through his blurry vision. Ron on the other hand looked like he was about to throw up, after just losing his elder brother the last thing he needed was for his best friend to die before him. The grief was pouring out of Ron, but he kept it pushed back as much as he could to comfort Harry.
"Harry. You cannot die on us not- not now" Ron’s voice cutting off as he chocked back a sob.
"It was...fun..." Harry said, the blood that pooled up in his mouth dribbled down his face as he opened his mouth. Thus ended the life of Harry Potter. Peace. Darkness. Clarity.
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His eyelids blinked gently, he had expected this some kind of afterlife, after all he had spoken to his parents just earlier that day when he went to sacrifice himself. He knew that everyone’s souls would not just be held in the stone but then again when he had died for those split seconds earlier, he was simply there in Kings Cross Station. This felt different. This was definitely different.
He finally gave a glance around where he was hoping to be met with the bright sterileness of King’s Cross Death Station. Instead, he was in a bed. He shifted his hand up to his chest. Thud. Thud. Thud.
'I'm alive!' he thought to himself. ‘No that cannot be right, unless Hermione and Pomfrey, did it? Maybe they did save me…’
Blinking again, Harry wanted to see exactly where he was; years of having to watch his back so that he would not get killed had him always checking his surroundings. This was not about to change. Especially not when he was so adamant that he should be dead. He just wanted to be at peace, with his parents and Remus and Sirius. He wanted to be happy.
Looking around, Harry noticed that things looked a lot bigger than they should be. For example, the pillows on this bed were twice the size they should be. He glanced further up and noticed that the bed was just giant in general, the headboard giving away that either he was small, or the bed was bloody giant. Looking down at his hand, Harry saw how small it was. No. It could not be him, surely it was the bed just being giant. What happened when he was unconscious.
'Bloody hell,' He thought to himself, ‘I’m the size of a bloody baby. What did Mione do to me?’
A door creaked open, followed by several sets of footsteps. In an instant Harry lay his head down and pretended to be asleep. Until he was sure he was safe he wasn’t taking any chances.
"I’m telling you; I was at my desk trying to write up the charms report and heard what sounded like the crack of apparition and then he was just there. Unconscious.’ The voice was unfamiliar, his heart was beating faster and faster. Maybe it wasn’t Hermione that did this then.
"But he looks so much like you Prongs!" Harry stopped when he heard that. Sirius. That was Sirius’ voice. The same smooth voice just less aged, less gruff. Harry could feel the tears welling up in his eyes before he started to will them away. It was fine he was with Sirius. He was safe. Perhaps the afterlife for his parents and their friends was Hogwarts and since Harry wanted to be with them, he had to be a baby? This was before any of them joined the order or anything like that so it makes sense this would be a happy unconflicted time in their lives for them to live through. It just seems odd that Harry was a baby, he wasn’t even alive when they were at Hogwarts. Furthermore, they seemed to have no memory of who he was. His heart sunk a little. Perhaps this fantasy he had just thought of was exactly that, a fantasy. It probably wasn’t Sirius after all, but he was definitely at Hogwarts, they were talking about Charms homework for crying out loud.
"How do you explain where he comes from then! He doesn’t even look a year old, and I am quite sure I have not got anyone pregnant! I haven’t been with anyone like that." The other voice, identified as 'Prongs', yelled back.
"Will you two quieten down before you wake him up,” another voice stage whispered. Harry’s breath caught; he sounded like Remus. Surely two people couldn’t sound so much like Remus and Sirius. And this Prong’s person, why did he recognise that nickname. It was on the tip of his tongue.
” Sorry Moony," the two boys apologized, and by the sounds of their voices, they were embarrassed.
Harry took this as his time to wake up in front of the boys/ His arms stretching out and yawning. He rolled over and gradually flickered his eyes open. The light was brighter when he rolled over causing him to squint when he tried to open them.
"Look," said the Sirius sounding voice said, "he's waking up!" The footsteps of the three boys came closer to the bed he was lying on.
Harry rubbed his eyes with one of his little hands, trying to get them used to the light so he could finally see and face the three boys.
“He’s actually kind of adorable. You don’t think Lily might want to talk to me if I have a really cute baby, do you?" 'Prongs' said his voice increasing in excitement as he relayed his idea.
"I thought you were leaving her alone for a bit. Or are you that desperate?” Sirius’s sound-alike said in a somewhat disappointed tone.
Finally able to see, Harry looked over the middle of the three boys leaning over him. With a start, he realized that 'Prongs' was his father. He was a dead lookalike for James. He quickly glanced at the other two and at once recognised the others to genuinely be Sirius and Remus.
His breathing quickened, unsure as to what all this meant. Was his theory right or… what is this? As he looked up at his father again, he finally understood what everyone meant when they said he looked like his father only with his mother's eyes.
Without realising what was happening, Remus extended his arms and picked Harry up. He was so gentle as he picked Harry up, immediately curling up against the teen's firm chest, putting his head in the crook of Remus' shoulder. After making himself comfortable, Harry made sure he had a firm grip on Remus' black robes, he was comfortable, he didn’t know what any of this meant but he did know that his eyes were gradually closing, and he couldn’t do anything about it. For once in a long time, Harry fell asleep feeling safe.