After seeing the last Harry Potter movie (I will be in Post-Potter Depression for quite a while), I just had to write another for this series. Being almost the same age as Daniel, Emma and Rupert, I've grown up with them, and I'm definitely a Potter generation kid. I can't describe how I felt leaving that theatre after the midnight premiere. But, as Tom said on Conan (Drarry fans unite XD), the Harry Potter series will live on in the hearts of the fans who keep it alive.
Anyway, this story will consist of quite a few chapters, I believe, all over 1,000 words to 3,000. You won't be disappointed. I know there are a lot of Snarry fanfictions out there after this last closing chapter of Harry Potter and I'd like to thank you for taking the time to read mine. In the first few chapters, this story follows the final battle of Hogwarts quite closely, and most characters who died in the series did die here, and so on. There are only a few differences.
I don't own Harry Potter and I never will, but these characters will forever be in my heart.
Individual chapter warnings – blood, violence, grief
More Than Meets the Eye
Written by Illumination
He understood now.
He understood the hatred. The fierceness with which he had insulted his father. He understood the pain. He was part of the pain. Or he had been. All those years… Whenever he'd looked into those brown eyes, he'd never known the conflicting affectionate and painful memories his existence had created. He hadn't known until it was far too late.
It was over. Voldemort was dead. Gone. Finally, it was over. But now that he was gone… What was left? He'd spent his entire life getting stronger, training, preparing for the final battle. Worrying about who would die for him. Trying to protect his friends. Destroying horcruxes. Now that everything he had worked for had paid off, and it was over… What now?
Those thoughts swirled in his head as he sat with Ron and Hermione. It was late now; the sun had long since set on the horizon. People were being treated for their wounds. So many untrained wizards and witches were helping the injured. There were too many for Madam Pomfrey her staff to handle. Luna was one of those assisting inside the infirmary. There were so many. He couldn't bear to stand by and hear their cries of pain, taste the smell of blood. Voldemort's words rang in his ears.
You have allowed many to die, because you would not face me yourself… It is a great dishonor.
Warm arms wrapped around him. He raised his head to look into light eyes, turned gray by the moonlight. Hermione gazed at him silently, eyes saying more than words ever could. He offered her a small attempt at a smile. It was the best he could muster. He knew it didn't impress her. Touching her hand for a moment, he glanced at Ron. The redhead's face was slightly pale. He looked worn out. He stood, leaving his friends behind in favor of solitude.
It was over for everyone else. They would no longer have to live in fear. No more worry. No more deaths. Lord Voldemort was no more to them. But he would still live, in Harry's dreams. He would haunt every unconscious moment. His hands slipped into his pockets as he stepped over fallen stone. Hogwarts was in ruins. So many lives had been lost. So many families in tears.
The wind swept over the devastated landscape, ruffling his hair. A sense of emptiness washed over him. What would become of him now? He had Ginny… But would that last? Would she grow up, and find someone else, now that he wasn't the Great Harry Potter anymore? He lowered his head. Could he have prevented these deaths? Lupin, Tonks, Fred, Lavender, Colin… Snape. Harry furrowed his eyebrows as he gazed over the stone to the trees below. Snape.
Was it wrong that he felt some sort of despise toward his father? He had been so heartless, so cruel towards Snape. He tried to imagine if Draco had taken Ginny from him… It would've hurt. But it wasn't the same. He hadn't known Ginny since they were little. He hadn't loved her for so long. He couldn't fathom the pain that the man had felt. And he felt so guilty now. All those times he and Snape clashed heads, he hadn't understood. And he never would, completely. It was too late now. There was no apologizing. No amends that he could make.
He didn't have to die. I could have intervened…
Bitter tears stung his eyes. It was too late. The bravest man he'd ever met was dead. He had let him die. He'd protected him his entire life… Devoted his life to shielding him, and Harry had never realized it. He wiped the tear trickling down his cheek with a quick motion of his hand.
The brunette turned his head, blinking away the tears quickly. Long white-blonde hair. Even in his blurred vision, he could tell who it was. "Luna," he murmured, turning his body as well.
She stopped a few feet away from him, speckles of blood on her shirt from the patients she'd been taking care of. "There's something you should see. Come on."
The hospital wing was much less crowded. Students who were healed were being sent back to their homes. Parents were alerted of the occurrences. Only the ones in critical condition remained on the beds. Most of them were familiar faces. Madam Pomfrey stood beside a bed that held a pale Lavender Brown. Her fingers pressed to the girl's wrist. Two young girls stood by the bed, both near tears. Madam Pomfrey shook her head, eyes resting on the girls.
"This way," Luna said, breaking Harry from his trance. She took his hand, leading him through the beds and people. Most of them met his eyes. Some offered smiles. Others were too devastated to do anything but look at the Boy Who Lived with both anguish and respect. For them, it was over.
Harry blinked a few times, realizing they'd come to a stop before a large oak door. Kingsley stood beside it, hands folded behind his back. He didn't look to have been injured at all during the fight. One look at the duo, and he nodded, stepping to the side. He swiped his hand over the knob, and a click could be heard. Luna pushed the door open, and let Harry inside. What could be so important that it had to be guarded by a remaining member of the Order?
There were a few candles, hovering around the small room. The light was dim, but the brunette could make out a table, a large bed, and another woman kneeling beside the bed. Hermione stood just inside the doorway, looking downwards. Ron was nowhere to be seen.
Harry felt something behind him, and jumped, startled, when he realized Madam Pomfrey had followed them into the room. Scooting past them, she spoke quietly. "I've got him now. Be a dear and go change Horace's wraps, would you?" The nurse nodded curtly and hurried out of the room. Something similar to relief stirred in Harry at the mention of Professor Slughorn. He had survived.
"H-How is he?" Hermione's soft voice shook in the nearly silent room. Madam Pomfrey raised her eyes, gaze moving between the two of them.
"… It's hard to tell now, if he'll be alright. The best we can do is wait," she murmured.
Impatiently, Harry stepped in front of Hermione to see who they were talking about. Who was lying in the bed? As he stepped closer, his eyes adjusted to the darkness.
His breath caught in his throat.