Hey guys! Okay, so this story is probably going to have short chapters, but it's going to have a good amount of them really. I've been wanting to publish this one because I thought it started pretty well. Let me know what you think! I hope you enjoy it.
As for "Saving a Heart," I'm working on it, it's just taking a bit longer than I thought. I did get this one review that kind of threw me. It was intentionally rude. I had labelled the work as AU and they had the nerve to comment how the characters were not 'in character.' Well, I wonder why that would be... then called it a sob story. I believe that was the point. Some people like to read those, thank you.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or make any profit from this work.
Everywhere. Blood and sweat. There was so much of it. Sweat made his dark locks cling to his forehead and blood caused it to mat in various places. Dark streaks of red ran down the left side of his face from colliding with the ground. Bitter salt flooded his mouth with each flick of his tongue over his chapped and split lips. More blood seeped from the gash in his cheek and trailed down the hollow of his neck. Exhaustion wore heavily on his muscles, his entire body sore and aching. The previous weeks without sleep were finally catching up. The nightmares never left and the pain never ceased. It constantly pecked at the back of his mind.
Devastation surrounded him. The long field was scattered with unknown faces of Order members, aurors, Hogwarts faculty and staff, as well as a few of the remaining Dumbledore's Army. Everyone was drenched in blood, dirt, and sweat. To his immediate right were Hermione and Ron. The red head had his long body twined around the brunette's own slender frame, protecting her until the very end. He had seen from the corner of his eye as Ron threw himself before a killing curse that had been aimed for his girlfriend, not seeing the serving hex sent towards her throat mere seconds after. Both may have betrayed him, but they were still Gryffindors at heart and fought valiantly against the dark. The horcrux hunt and planning would have never came to exist without the two by his side. Not too far from them was Neville lying face down under Fenrir Greyback. The werewolf had lunged at Harry, teeth thirsty for blood and sharp claws dying to sink into and rip apart the tender meat that made up his body. One hard shove and he had been sent in the opposite direction. Glancing back, he watched in horror as Greyback's claws tore deeply into Neville's flesh, ripping away the soft meat covering. His blood splattered to the ground while he struggled to fight him off. The timid teen's last words of encouragement being "kill that snake-face bastard!" It was a phrase he had never imagined Longbottom being able to utter. Subconsciously, his hand felt the revolver in his pocket. One silver bullet in the back was all it took to paralyze the rabid creature and have him at his death in seconds. He spared one last look to Neville. The poor young man didn't have a chance. His eyes were already glossed with death from blood loss. But, at least Fenrir was finally dead. It was a nod to both Remus and Neville, as well as everyone else the monster had forced his curse on. Further down the field, he spotted the one man he had the up most respect for. Severus Snape was lying on his side with a limp hand clasped around his neck. Nagini's poison was quick to sour the blood in his veins, but it also allowed for the dagger to pierce the snake's body. It may have cost the potions professor his life, but it made Voldemort mortal and that was the only thing Severus ever wanted from the day the dark mark stained his arm.
However, it was the death of Remus and Tonks that propelled him to seek out the Dark Lord on the very hill he still stood on. The last link to his parents was dead. A kind hearted man and his spitfire wife killed for defending the future they wished for their son to live in. The guilt built bile in his throat. He launched the attack and singled out Voldemort. Said man had been turned into just another corpse rotting before him until it disintegrated in the wind. One spell, the disarming spell of all things, was all it took. The pile of sickly pale flesh had tightened and cracked, turning black and disappearing as the wind blew across the hilltop. The raven haired wizard sighed, shoving his wand back into his front pocket. Looking over the field, he could see a sparse amount of survivors checking the injured and aurors taking away Death Eaters for what he was sure was an appointment with a dementor. As he took a step to offer his help, his legs turned lax. His body fell to hold his weight on his knees, hands clutching the ground before him as to not land face first. He tried to push his body up, muscles straining in his arms. He needed to help the others, he need to find...who? Who would he need to find? There was no one left. The Weasely's were never on his side. All of them were only in it for the money. The only ones he could give a second look were Bill and Charlie. It was possible they might not have known about any of it. Maybe even the twins as well, they're known for rebelling. But everyone was on Dumbledore's side.
"Fucking Dumbledore." The raven snarled. The very same man he was tricked into thinking of as grandfather figure was the same man that took everything from him: his chance at true friendship by hiring two biased people to keep an eye on him and make him believe everything dark was bad, his freedom by constantly reminding him of the responsibility he held on his shoulders, and most of all, his happiness by taking away his soul mate.
The piercing pain returned full force, taking his breath away. That old fool had taken away his soul mate before either were aware that their bond existed. A man in his early forties and height reaching just over six feet. His shoulder length hair was thick and dark as night, gracefully sitting at his broad shoulders. There was just the right amount of dark bristle on his cheeks and chin the last he saw, all of it complimenting his pale olive complexion. His godfather, the man unjustifiably thrown to rot in Azkaban from a story without proof. The man had been locked away before he was even old enough to remember and escaped when he was still too naïve to their situation. After everything, he had been sent to his death only months away from finally clearing his name. Sirius Black would forever live with the label of a murderer, but also the lover his heart yearned for. The young wizard hissed as the pain seared through his chest again, reminding him of his loss.
"No, it shouldn't have been this way. I don't want it this way. He didn't deserve to die." He gasped out. Gray swam along the edges of his vision. He brought a hand up to rub it away, but it only served to make it worse. Trying to push himself up again, his shoulders and arms shook. They finally gave out, his entire body falling flat to the grass now. He tried to move one last time, arching his body off of the ground. Pain stabbed through his abdomen causing him to groan in agony. Dropping back down, he released the tension in his body and smiled grimly.
"I guess it was true. I was never meant to make it passed this, huh? I hope you've been waiting for me, Siri. Tell everyone I'll see them soon enough." He closed his eyes and the beating of his heart slowed. The air around him grew drastically cold. His last breath of air left the teen's lungs as the pressure of what felt like being squeezed through a tube too small for even an ant to crawl through wrapped around him. Everything was dark and spinning.
Suddenly, all movement stopped. He felt like he was floating, nothing but something at the same time supporting all of his dead weight. Small amounts of air filled his lungs, his heart began to beat strong once more. He couldn't make out any specific scents or sounds around him, only a soft humming in the back of his mind. There was no more pain for the moment, but he could feel the bleeding wounds begin to slow and clot. Sighing, he eased himself to lie flat on his back and rest comfortably against what ever it was he had been dropped on. His breathing evened out as unconsciousness wormed its way through his mind.
That night, Harry James Potter disappeared immediately after defeating Lord Voldemort on the eve of August 17th, 1999 at the young age of nineteen. Word spread that Harry had depleted his magical core, passed on from exhaustion on the field, and turned to dust as the wind washed over the hills. Fables popped up over night for new stories to tell their children. They say that Harry Potter's ashes lay at every corner of the Wizarding World, protecting the people from afar. If ever a dangerous threat were to come about, Harry Potter would rise once again to defend what he loves. Little did they know, the same person in the year 1995 disappeared, only to be replaced with a nineteen year old savior.
Fate smiled as she waved her long, slender digits over the crystal ball. Her silky haired flowed behind her as she turn away, white robes floating over the marble floor.
"May you be happy." She whispered, closing and locking the heavy chamber door.
There's chapter one. I hope you all enjoyed it. The second will be out real soon!