Green & Gold

Friday October 6, 2003

Harry knew today was going to be a bad day. He knew it from the moment he had woken up at three and saw a text message from Jasper on his phone.

Harry, I’m afraid that we will not be at school today or most of next week. We will be out of town on an impromptu camping trip.
I will see you next week.
-Jasper

The one from Jasper had been followed a few minutes later by one from an unsaved number;

Try and not do anything stupid, dangerous, or insane for a few days. Em says you can’t, prove him wrong for me?
XX, Rose.

Harry scowled at the messages and shook his head. As much as he wished his friends (because despite his best efforts to remain unattached, the Cullen and Hale siblings were his friends) were going to be at school, he knew (assumed?) that camping trips were a bonding experience for their family. Harry personally didn’t see the thrill in camping-

The Forest of Dean.

Ron’s upper arm; an entire chunk of flesh missing.

A pale face beneath his freckles.

‘Your parents are safely out of the way!’

Hermione sobbing.

Starving.

The desperate, clinging, hopelessness.

Harry leading his friends on a journey bleaker than any they had ever undertaken before.

‘I open at the close.’

-he never wanted to see another tent for the rest of his life.

He also never wanted to see the inside of a muggle classroom either, but that wasn’t a goal that he was going to achieve today.

On his way to school he briefly considered skipping. It would be easy to just spend the day holed up in his house, dreading the events he promised to attend the next day.

Seeing his friends and the Weasley’s would be great. Even as wrapped in guilt as it was, Harry loved them and missed them. But returning to Hogwarts? The magical castle that had been covered in blood, bodies, and the thick scent of death?

He had hoped to never see it again.

Apparently, Harry mused as he slammed his car door and raced for first hour, there were quite a few places he never wanted to see again.

But when had Harry ever gotten what he wanted?

Harry sat through his morning class, relieved that he was finally beginning to understand most of what his teachers discussed, and considered what he would do for lunch. He could skip. Just sit in his car and listen to music by himself. But over the last couple of months he’d gotten used to sitting with Alice and her siblings. He hated to admit it, but he was lonely without their company. Even though they didn’t share any classes, they saw each other in the halls and Harry was more relaxed when he was seated with them at lunch.

Especially when he was seated by Alice’s brother with the thick, honey colored, hair. Jasper was...

Interesting.

Particularly, the way Harry’s mind kept trailing back to him was interesting.

It felt a bit like when he’d first noticed Ginny. Except stronger. Deeper and realer.

Which was an absurd thought to have that he shoved very far away. If he liked Jasper, Alice and the others to a lesser extent as well, then getting closer to them would be the worst way to repay their friendship.

Harry knew loads of people who surely regret getting close to him. Though they couldn’t testify on behalf of being dead.

In the end, his decision about lunch was made for him by a muggle girl with dark brown curls piled high on her head approaching him at his locker.

“Hello!” she called cheerily. “You’re Harry, right? I’m Jessica. Jessica Stanley.”

“Hello,” Harry greeted her slowly. He wasn’t sure why she was smiling at him, talking to him. None of the students aside from the Cullen/Hale siblings had shown any interest in him since his second week.

“I saw that the Cullens were gone, and thought maybe you’d want to eat lunch with me and my friends?” She swirled a loose curl around her finger and gave him a winning smile.

“Er... alright.”

Jessica bounced on her feet eagerly and began talking at the speed of light as Harry followed her to the cafeteria.

“Everyone said you were soo weird, which is why I didn’t talk to you before. But I knew they had to be wrong! I mean, someone who got the Cullens to actually speak and socialize can’t be all that weird right? So I was totally going to talk to you sooner, except I was like never going to be brave enough to do it in front of them. They’re intimidating, aren’t they? I don’t know how you sit with them every day.”

Harry frowned with bemusement as he followed the muggle teen to a table in the center of the crowded cafeteria. He didn’t think the Cullens were intimidating at all. Maybe Emmett with his overly muscled arms, or Jasper with his smoldering eyes, but Alice was the friendliest person he ever met.

And Harry was roommates with Neville Longbottom for six years.

Jessica took a break from her rant about the Cullens long enough to introduce Harry to the other students at her table. The blonde haired, baby faced boy with blue eyes was Mike. The pale faced girl with sleek silvery blonde hair that resembled Malfoy, right down to her sneer, was Lauren. The girl with long dark hair, silver framed glasses, and kind eyes was Angela. And the boy with shaggy black hair and terrible skin was Eric.

“He speaks!” Mike cried dramatically after Harry greeted them. “I thought maybe you didn’t.”

“Of course he does,” Lauren said with a haughty look, “to the Cullens.”

“Well, they speak to me as well, that’s how a conversation works you see?”

The other students blinked stupidly at Harry’s snark. He hadn’t meant to sound so rude, but Merlin. Everyone treated Harry and the Cullen’s as if they were invisible. He didn’t think they had room to complain about them ignoring them right back.

Eric was the first to recover from Harry’s coolly spoke comment. He chuckled nervously, but extended a fist to Harry.

“Got em,” he said cheerfully. “You don’t take any shit, do you Potter?”

Harry bumped his fist with his own, an odd muggle thing he’d seen other students do, and smirked. If the bloody Dark Lord didn’t make him cower in a cemetery when he was fourteen, a hateful muggle girl wouldn’t either.

“Nope,” he said. “Not really.”

After that, the group seemed to thaw and Harry relaxed the slightest amount as their pointless chatter washed over him.

It wasn’t as good as sitting with Jasper, Alice, and the others. But he thought maybe that it was better than sitting alone in his car with only his thoughts to keep him company.

Maybe.

The rest of the day passed by quickly. Harry’s fifth and sixth hour teachers both praised him for his improved classwork. And Harry had even finally scored a goal in gym class when they played soccer. Mike had given him a high-five for his efforts, apparently deciding that Harry was now a person he would acknowledge existed.

But when Harry returned to his house after school, any sense of relaxation he built up fled instantly. Because in twelve hours he would be returning to Hogwarts. Harry tried not to count down the hours while he hastily did his assignments, but some part of his brain kept constantly reminding him of the time.

When he nibbled on an apple and read the assigned book in his English class at six, he had only ten hours left.

He took the longest, hottest, shower he could at eight (eight hours).

Harry put his pajamas on and laid in his bed at nine thirty, debating on the pros and cons of having a drink to calm his nerves before he left tomorrow.

When he had only six hours until he had to leave, Harry decided that the resulting concern and worry that he would suffer through made a drink not worth it.

At midnight (four hours), Harry moved to the living room. Letting the glow of the embers in his fireplace distract him.

At twelve thirty (three and a half hours), Harry drifted off to sleep in his recliner.

At one fifteen (two hours and forty five minutes), he was back awake. Sweating and trembling.

He laid in the chair and tried to clear his mind-

’You are not trying!’

‘You are leaving your mind wide open for an attack! The perfect prey for the Dark Lord!’

Sirius, on the floor in the Hall of Prophecies, ‘You’ll have to kill me!’

Harry’s relief at it having been a trap.

Harry’s fear at it having been a trap.

Sirius dying anyway.

-but he eventually gave it up as a bad job and resigned himself to staying awake and letting the shadows on his face grow as the night wore on.

Time passed quickly, even if it wasn’t painlessly, as it always does when he’s dreading something. And at exactly 4:01, Harry muttered to himself “don’t be a coward,” and stepped in to his floo crying, “The Burrow!”

Harry was deposited in the Weasley’s sitting room, dizzy and nauseous, and almost immediately assaulted with cries of “Harry!”

“Hey.” Harry pushed his glasses back up on their position on his nose and grinned at the gathered family. Hermione and Ron, their hands clasped and smiles bright. Bill and Fleur, both looking as ridiculously in love as the day Harry attended their wedding. George, Ginny, Percy, Charlie, Arthur, Molly, and...

“Teddy,” Harry breathed. He took a few steps towards the giggling baby in Molly’s arms before he hesitated and stumbled-

Remus, looking years younger than Harry had ever seen, beaming at him, ‘You’ll be godfather?’

‘He will know why I died and I hope he will understand.’

‘To Teddy Remus Lupin! A great wizard in the making!

-and would have fallen right in front of everyone if he had not been caught by a steady hand.

“Easy mate,” Ron said. “You wanna hear something wicked?” Harry nodded silently in reply, grateful for his calm and steady friend, as he kept his eyes on the blue haired baby watching him.

“Hey Teddy,” Ron crooned at the baby, “Who’s the best godfather in the whole world?”

Teddy reached his arms out for Harry, his eyes changing to a tiny version of Harry’s own as he laughed and said, “Hawwa!”

Harry swung Teddy out of Molly’s arms as soon as the first tear hit his cheek.

“We tried to teach him Harry, but ‘r’s’ are hard, aren’t they baby?” Ginny sang in Teddy’s ear, tickling his belly as she did so.

“So are ‘y’s’,” Hermione said, using her hair to shield Harry’s face as she discreetly wiped his face. “We missed you,” she whispered.

“I missed you,” Harry told her truthfully. “And I missed you little Teddy.” Teddy made a gurgling sound and smiled up at Harry, the beginnings of two little top teeth poking out of his gums.

Harry felt guilt and grief threatening to overwhelm him as he looked down at his godson. Teddy wasn’t even a year old yet and his parents, both so young and happy, were dead. Teddy would never get to know Remus’ brilliant mind or Tonks’ passionate loyalty. Because of Harry. Because he hadn’t just given himself over to Voldemort before they were killed-

Hands clasped together as their bodies lay on the floor of the Great Hall. Peaceful looks on their faces, as if they were sleeping.

‘As quick and easy as falling asleep.’

Best godfather in the world?

Hardly.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to Teddy.

“Why don’t I take Teddy and I’ll get lunch on the table while you catch up with everyone?” Molly asked Harry hastily. She had thought having Teddy here would be a wonderful surprise for Harry. None of them had anticipated the needless guilt he would still be suffering from.

Harry handed Teddy over, squeezing his chubby fingers once more as he did.

Why did he come here?

“Sit with us,” Hermione pulled Harry on to the sofa between her and Ginny and Ron sank to the floor at their feet. The Weasley men, and Fleur, also settled around the room and looked eager to hear about Harry’s life since he left. “Tell us everything you’ve been doing!”

“Your letters suck,” Ginny teased him. “‘Hi, it’s Harry. I haven’t quit school.’”

“‘I made a few friends,’” Ron quoted.

“‘I’m fine’,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“‘And I’m singlehandedly keeping the American liquor stores in business,’” Bill added.

“I never wrote that,” Harry scowled.

“But is it true?” Charlie raised a brow at him.

“Did I tell you guys I met my neighbor? He’s a muggle auror,” Harry said. “His names also Charlie and his daughter might be moving in soon.”

“A please-men?!” Arthur leaned forward eagerly as he listened to Harry describe life as a faux-muggle.

Ron and Hermione exchanged ‘a look’ as Harry discussed anything except himself. They would indulge him for now, and interrogate him properly after the game. Though they did interrupt him with a few questions here and there as his stories piqued their curiosity.

“Why were you repainting your car with Rosalie?” Hermione asked suspiciously.

“Er... I wrecked it,” Harry admitted.

Ron also caught a peculiar phrase and narrowed his blue eyes at Harry as he pieced it together. “Mate, explain, exactly, what cliff diving is, because it sounds like-“

Apparently, it was exactly what it sounded like. Which prompted another sigh from Ron and Hermione.

“And you do this with a bunch of shirtless and fit blokes?” Ginny wiggled her eyebrows, having already heard Hermione stammer her way through a description of Jacob Black. “I wanna go.”

“Nevermind them,” George waved off his sister. He couldn’t believe nobody was asking about the reoccurring topic that Harry kept bringing up with an interesting tone of voice. “Let’s hear more about this Jasper fellow.”

They all turned to look at Harry just in time to see his face turn a brilliant shade of red.

“Think it’s time to eat?” Harry said abruptly. “I’m starving.”

Which, was an obvious deflection as Harry picked at his plate and aimed the conversation on everyone else.

Harry felt his guilt increase after lunch when he felt relief at flooing away from the Burrow. He loved Teddy, loved him with his entire heart, but looking at him brought nothing but pain. Molly said that he had to go back to ‘Grandma Andy’ before the match would be over, so Harry gave him a last hug and a whispered promise to find a way to make up the loss of his parents to him before flooing directly to Headmistress McGonagall’s office.

Harry stumbled out of the fireplace and felt his sense of relief grow as he had not been deposited in Dumbledore’s old office, as he had worried about, but was instead in the Transfiguration office.

“Harry.” Professor McGonagall got up from her desk chair and smiled warmly at one of her favorite ex-students. “How are you?”

“Fine,” Harry gave McGonagall a distracted grin as he moved out of Ron, Hermione, and Ginny’s way and stared around the office. “How are you?”

“Busy,” McGonagall told him. “I heard you’re not pursuing your NEWTS?”

“Uh...” Harry was thankful that Ginny floo’d in first as she immediately wiped the thin lipped look of fond disapproval off McGonagalls face with her greeting of, “What’s up Minnie?”

Harry was still chuckling at Ginny’s audacity as he followed behind McGonagall out to the quidditch stands. He carefully kept his eyes on his feet, desperate to not confirm or deny if Hogwarts still resembled the battlefield as it had the last time he was there, and was thankful for the cloak that shielded him from any gawking eyes. He was also thankful when McGonagall went to open the front doors and someone small and soft slipped beneath the cloak. Harry’s hand lunged for the wand in his pocket before he realized who it was.

“Luna,” he smiled at the blonde haired witch. “How’d you know I was there?”

“Invisibility Cloaks don’t work on wrackspurts,” Luna told him seriously. “And you’ve never had quite so many in your head before.”

“Riiight.” Harry shook his head and examined Luna carefully as the two of them trailed towards the quidditch stands behind McGonagall’s taller figure. “How are you?” Luna looked better, loads better, than the last time Harry saw her.

Luna’s large eyes blinking at him in a dark cellar, grotesque as they appeared in her sunken cheeks.

‘Oh no, I didn’t want you to get caught!’

‘Ron please stay still!’

‘HERMIONE!’

‘Filthy mudblood!’

Here lies Dobby; a free elf.

“-flashbacks at all.”

“What?” Harry’s feet had been moving automatically as his thoughts spiraled back to the day back in Malfoy Manor, but his hearing hadn’t been working at all. “What’d you say Luna?”

“I said that I’m doing much better.” Luna put her small hand on Harry’s elbow as they ascended the stairs to reach the teachers box. “I’m hardly having any flashbacks to all the terrible things we saw at all anymore. Are you?”

“Er, no,” Harry said. “I’m fine.”

“You’re a liar,” Luna said gently. “But you will be fine eventually, you know that don’t you Harry?”

Harry gazed across the quidditch pitch, the view skewed as he had never seen it from the teachers box before. He took note of the smaller than average class sizes, a side effect of both war casualties and parental fear, preventing the stands from truly filling. He saw the joyous looks of the first years as they contrasted to the more subdued looks on some of the older students’ faces. Hermione, seated with Parvati Patil in Gryffindor section, both of them wearing crimson scarves and smiles, caught his eye. As did Draco Malfoy; a head of pale blonde hair, longer and looser than it used to be, seated alone in the Slytherin stands.

Harry also saw a girl, a fifth year maybe, dressed in yellow Hufflepuff robes. Her eyes were shadowed and hooded. She sat alone with her shoulders slumped.

He wondered who she lost because of him.

“Sure Lue,” he said softly. “I’ll be fine.”

Luna tugged Harry to the open seat beside McGonagall as the teams entered the field. Harry spotted Ginny’s flame of hair on a head held proudly high. Her crimson robes stated ‘CAPT. WEASLEY’ in gold lettering on the back. She easily reached out and grasped hands with the Slytherin captain, a girl whose name Harry didn’t know and didn’t care to find out. Ron was standing behind his sister, his broom firmly grasped in his hand and Harry could practically taste his excitement at the match.

It was bittersweet, seeing his friends squaring up for the game. Knowing it could have been him down there with them if he hadn’t been so broken.

Probably better this way anyhow. Harry hadn’t flown since-

’It’s that mudblood! Avada Kedavra!’

‘Like it hot scum?’

‘IF WE DIE FOR THEM I’LL KILL YOU!’

Crabbe’s body burnt to a pile of ashes that Harry didn’t have to see to imagine.

Well. It would be a while before he would ever get on a broomstick anyway.

“Mount your brooms!” Hooch’s whistle pierced through the field and everyone cheered as the match began.

It took Harry until the announcer shouted that Slytherin had scored the first goal to give Luna a curious look.

“Aren’t you announcing anymore?” he asked her. “I thought you loved it?”

“Oh yes,” Luna gave him an innocently bright smile. “But I asked if Chloe would cover me today. She’s a sweet girl, this is her first real year at Hogwarts. She was happy to do it when I told her I’d much rather watch this match with my friend.”

Harry’s heart swelled with both affection, and grief, at Luna’s simply spoken statement.

He didn’t deserve her friendship. He had nearly gotten her father killed, and subsequently her tortured and arrested, solely by existing.

If Harry had never entered Luna’s life, all of their lives, they would have been better off.

He wished for the millionth time in his life that his mother hadn’t died for him.

Nobody had ever died for such a worthless cause before as Lily Potter.

“I think the Weasley’s have this year in the bag, Potter,” McGonagall murmured from her seat beside the hidden teens. “Just look at them.”

Harry looked up in the sky and smiled to see Ginny fly. She was brilliant. She ducked, dived, spun, and passed the quaffle with all the ease and grace of a true professional. She was alive too, so brightly and perfectly alive, up in the air.

Ginny had never flown a man to safety from a raging inferno. Never felt someone shaking with fear, smelling of ash and sweat, as they clung to her on the back of her broom.

Never saw her friends flying away from a fire that was started in an effort to kill them.

Ginny still flied like it was freedom for her.

Ron too sat on his broom proudly. His position in the middle of the goalposts was clear as he too shone brightly with enthusiasm. His head was up high and his jaw set stubbornly. He didn’t let that night (Harry’s first night of eternity) take away the sport he loved.

But Ron had always been made of something sturdier than Harry. He never broke. He never ran away from his problems; and the one time he did, he came back and owned up to his mistakes.

Harry had too many mistakes to ever truly own up to. He would have given his life to make them up, tried it that night, but it wouldn’t matter.

“They’re amazing,” Harry agreed quietly. “Another cup for your office this year then, Professor.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Potter,” McGonagall sniffed. “I don’t keep the Gryffindor trophies in my office anymore. It would be unbefitting of my role as Headmistress to play favorites.”

Harry gave her a skeptical look that she couldn’t see, but she winked at the spot where he was seated anyway and dropped her voice to a dramatic whisper.

“I keep them displayed in the Great Hall. Then I can still see them every day.”

Harry could have lost himself in the thrill of watching the neck-in-neck game in front of him. The different view of the field, Luna and McGonagall whispering comments occasionally, and the excitement at seeing Ron and Ginny excel in the sport that they love could have soothed his anxiety and gotten him through this promise to his friends.

If it hadn’t been for a wayward comment from the announcer.

“Ron catches the quaffle, blocking Sanders’ attempt to score, and throws it to Ginny who... SCORES! Merlin! Have you ever seen such a pair work together so seamlessly?”

Harry replayed that comment over and over as the crowd cheered. Only the older students knew what Harry did. The older students, and the now teary eyed Headmistress beside him, knew why that comment was wrong.

Fred and George.

George and... Fred.

Fred and George didn’t just work together seamlessly; they were two halves of one whole.

They were so intermixed together that their own mother hadn’t even had the imagination to fear that they would die separately.

Nobody could have imagined such a horrifying scenario. The Twins were a singular unit; happy, friendly, brilliant, loved.

A unit Harry shredded in half.

’NO! Fred! NO!’

Fred’s laughter frozen forever on his face.

Molly sobbing over the body of her son as Harry fled to sacrifice himself and save the rest of her children.

A sacrifice too little, too late.

‘Give me Harry Potter and none shall be harmed.’

‘Potter’s there! Someone grab him!’

Harry should have let them grab him.

Should have walked himself to the forest sooner.

Should have been smarter, quicker, better.

Should have died.

“I gotta go,” he suddenly croaked out in a choked whisper. “Tell Ron and Ginny... tell them I’m sorry.”

Harry fled from the stands, keeping his cloak over himself, too quickly for McGonagall or Luna to stop him.

He couldn’t breathe.

He needed to get away.

Away from the quidditch field where he had spent hours listening to Fred make jokes, sometimes for the sole benefit of making Harry laugh.

Away from Hogwarts where Harry’s unforgivable ignorance killed fifty others on the grounds.

Fred. Snape. Colin. Tonks. Remus.

Harry’s fault.

After Harry fell out of his floo, landing face first on the ground and breaking his glasses in the process, he didn’t even hesitate before he ripped open his liquor cabinet and drank from the first bottle his trembling hands grasped.

It took three desperate drinks before he remembered to ward the floo. He didn’t want anyone to come looking for him instead of celebrating what seemed to be a sure win.

By five drinks, Harry could almost bear the image of Fred’s joyful smile without wanting to rip his own heart from his chest.

As soon as he finished his sixth drink, Harry screamed. An endless and sharp sound that shattered his own eardrums and sounded as pain filled as it was meant to be.

After three bottles were gone, Harry’s screams had stopped. His tears were now dry on his face as he stared sightlessly at the walls. His house was destroyed, his liquor cabinet empty, his thoughts disoriented.

All he had to do that night was die.

He could have saved them that night-

fred.snape.colin.tonks.remus.

-if he had just died.

Teddy could have his parents. Wouldn’t be an orphan for his entire life like Harry had been.

Would always be.

But maybe... maybe it wasn’t too late.

Harry had bled when he wrecked his car. The muggle contraption had shown that while he may be the ‘master of death’, he could still bleed.

He held up his hand and silently summoned a knife from his kitchen. It’s sharp blade sparkled oddly in Harry’s blurry vision.

He wouldn’t wait around for someone else-

lily.james.cedric.sirius.albus.hedwig.dobby.fred.snape.colin.tonks.remus.

-to die because of him.

Because they would, eventually.

Everyone Harry loves dies.

He resolved himself to finally test the theory that had been lingering in his mind for months now.

He wouldn’t let them die because of him.

Harry repeated the litany of names-

lily.james.cedric.sirius.albus.hedwig.dobby.fred.snape.colin.tonks.remus.lily.james.cedric.sirius.albus.hedwig.dobby.fred.snape.colin.tonks.remus.lily.james.cedric.sirius.albus.hedwig.dobby.fred.snape.colin.tonks.remus.

-over and over as he put the sharp blade to his skin.