Disclaimer: The lyrics to the song "Hear Me" by Kelly Clarkson are in bold & italic print...hope you enjoy the story!
I'm lost in my thoughts
And baby I've fought
For all that I've got
Can you hear me?
It was all, his fault. No one else was to blame. As soon as Ron had told him that he was going to marry Hermione he should have forced them to return home. Guilt seeped through Harry as he looked down into his best friend’s ravaged face.
“If you can hear me, I want you to get better soon…what I’m about to do is for the best.”
He had no doubt that Mrs. Weasley and Hermione would nurse Ron back to health. It was sheer luck that had kept the vampires from latching on and biting him; Harry shuddered at the thought of what could have been. When Hermione had triggered the last path he and Charlie had been ready to run down it. Harry was not stupid, he knew that there was probably little that he could have done for Ron that Hermione would not have thought to do, but still. It was terrible that in his moment of greatest need, Ron’s brother and best friend had been hurtling down the path that would lead them to failure.
All their efforts had been in vain, Harry thought as he spat angrily on the ground. Ron would never have gotten so critically injured if it wasn’t for their urgent need to get the Horcruxes. To Harry’s consternation, he relived his last memories of Dumbledore fighting in the cave…weakening himself for a Horcrux that wasn’t there. Oh, the Hufflepuff cup had been with Zora…they were right on that account. What they hadn’t anticipated, was that the Hufflepuff cup was not a Horcrux. Charlie fought Zora as Harry reached the cup to perform his mother’s charm…but it had not worked. The Hufflepuff cup remained unblemished. He repeated the charm positive that he had made some sort of error, but that was of no benefit.
Dumbledore had been so sure that the Hufflepuff cup was a Horcrux…but he had been duped, just as he had been about Snape and the locket. Harry didn’t blame Dumbledore as he climbed catlike out the window of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley’s room, he blamed himself. That’s why he was leaving like a thief in the night. It wasn’t fair to allow Hermione and Ron on this dangerous journey with him, especially now when they had so much to live for. They were newlyweds, they deserved a chance at happiness…and he wasn’t going to snatch it away from them or have them give it up in some noble gesture of companionship.
Ron and Hermione belonged here, at the Burrow, away from the direct line of fire. Harry landed with a small thud on the ground. He had his invisibility cloak on so he was quite certain no one would notice him leaving.
Hear me
I'm cryin' out
I'm ready now
Turn my world upside down
Find me
I'm lost inside the crowd
It's getting loud
I need you to see
I'm screaming for you to please
Hear me…Hear me…Hear me…Hear me
The wand light fell onto a desk where a small book, ornate mirror, and bits of parchment lay scattered about. He grinned cheekily when he noticed that his mother scribbled along the edge of her parchment when she got bored, just as he did. The caricature in the margin was of a baby boy, perhaps six-months old. He recognized that he was the baby in the doodling. The thing that had thrown him off at first was that the baby did not have scar on his forehead, but than he’d realized that his mother had never known him with a scar. Harry Potter rubbed his exhausted eyes as he stared at the evidence in front of him. He was numb to the shock that he had felt earlier that day when he had put the pieces together.
A snort from across the room stilled him, but the person who made the sound simply rolled over and continued to sleep. After leaving the Burrow, Harry found himself without a place to go. Grimmauld Place was sure to be swarming with Order members and Godric’s Hollow would be the first place they would think to look, so he took to the streets of London. A sign on a toy store that was counting down the days until Christmas caught his eye. It read, “8 days to Christmas.”
He checked his watch, technically the sign was wrong; it was now seven days to Christmas. As he stood there, bemused by the muggle train that was moving along the tracks in the display case he was struck by inspiration. He made his way swiftly to King’s Cross. If he was correct, than tomorrow morning would hail the arrival of the Hogwarts' students that were coming home for the holidays. He spent the night on a hard, cold bench, afraid that if he slept, he would miss their arrival. He did not worry about seeing Ginny, though she crossed his mind more than once as he sat there, for he had overheard at the Burrow that she would not be coming home for the holidays. Seeing as every member of the Weasley family was involved in some form of Order business, he thought that it was rather prudent of her to stay where it was safe.
Soon, the arrival of strangely clothed adults who were walking into a wall had him smiling. As he had predicted, a stern looking old woman wearing a vulture hat and lime green jacket stepped through the wall. He spent his time, from when the woman disappeared to when she reappeared with an awkward young man, trying to look like a hobo. He cast a silencing charm from under his cloak at Neville Longbottom and proceeded to sever his bag with a severing charm. As Neville gathered his things, Harry bent down to help him. Once Neville looked up to thank him, Harry lowered his cloak slightly off his face so that Neville would recognize him.
When Neville soundlessly cried out ‘Harry’, he felt validated in putting a silencing charm on him. Once he was assured that Neville would not make any loud outbursts, he lifted the charm and explained to him that he needed a place to stay for a few days. Neville and his grandmother quickly extended an invitation to join them and he did so gratefully. As the hour-hand of the grandfather clock chimed midnight he made a mental note that this was now the sixth day he was imposing on their hospitality, not that they seemed to mind. Harry looked back to the gruesome truth that lay in front of him. His mother’s book was opened to what he believed to be the two most important pages. On the right hand side, three charms were listed:
1) Verfigurado “ Use to identify if an item is a Horcrux
2) Sensâme “ Use to destroy a Horcrux
3) Reuniraja - Use to reunite the souls within Horcruxes
Harry was sure that he had the first two mastered; whether he could perform the last one was yet to be seen. The opposite page held a caption that read:
Any given Horcrux will bear a mark revealing the number of times that the soul residing in it has been split. The primary soul will remain in the body of its owner, the split soul(s) may be hidden within any object, including living creatures. At all times, the soul desires to be reunited. Living creatures that act as a Horcrux would most likely be drawn to other parts of the soul, particularly to the primary soul. They may see, feel, and hear the primary…
The rest of the caption was continued on the following page, but he didn’t need to turn to see what it said…he had it memorized. They may see, feel, and hear the primary soul as it beckons them back together. The parchment he was working on had a list going. The first five things on that list were:
1) Primarily Soul “ With Voldemort “ Not found “ Yet to be destroyed
2) Split Soul “ Morfin’s Ring “ Found “ Destroyed
3) Split Soul “ Riddle’s Diary “ Found “ Destroyed
4) Split Soul “ Merope’s Locket “ Found “ Destroyed
5) Split Soul “ Nagini “ Not found “ Yet to be destroyed
The sixth item, ‘Split Soul “ Hufflepuff’s Cup “ Found’ was crossed out. In its place he scribbled:
6) Split Soul “ Gryffindor’s Sword “ Found “ Yet to be destroyed
There was no doubt that Gryffindor’s Sword was the sixth Horcrux. Dumbledore had proudly told him that it had remained safe from Voldemort’s attempt to get it…but he had been wrong. He had missed the crucial clue that pointed to the fact that it was a Horcrux; Harry had somehow managed to summon it despite the fact that he had not known such a sword existed. It was comparable to the way Riddle’s diary had been drawn to him or the way he was drawn to Grimmauld Place when Merope’s Locket resided there. Worst of all, it was similar to the way he often saw things from Nagini’s eyes or felt Voldemort’s emotions. He knew that his ability to speak parseltongue was not his at all…it was the ability of Voldemort. He bent down to write the identity of the final Horcrux:
7) Split Soul “ Harry Potter “ Found “ Yet to be destroyed
He looked into the ornate mirror whose glass was still broken. In it, he looked closely at his scar.
“One-seventh,” he read the scar that everyone had mistaken for a lightening bolt, “I’m one-seventh.”
Can you hear me?
The knock on the window startled him and he bent the tip of quill. He noticed a familiar looking owl and opened the window to let her in. He untied the note attached to her foot and gave her a piece of bread and some water. As he unfurled the note and looked over it, anger overtook him. Before he knew what he was doing, he grabbed his cloak and ran from Neville’s house to a point where he knew he would be able to Apparate.
Hear me…Hear me…Hear me
Can you hear me?
Harry stood next to the large bushes in pitch black, seething with anger. How stupid could she possibly be? Taking off in the middle of the night without contacting anyone…it was insane! Now was not the time to be romantic or show foolhardy bravery. As soon as he ensured that she was safe, he would go back into hiding…if only to guarantee that he didn’t throttle her himself. It just wasn’t the time to act like an impetuous youth. Couldn’t she have picked a less dangerous way to show her feelings? Like sending a letter! Dean’s owl settled onto his shoulder as he recalled the letter he had received earlier that night.
Harry,
Ginny has left school to seek you out. If you have ever cared for her, I ask that you find her before any danger befalls her.
~Dean
What exactly had Dean meant…if you have ever cared for her…he had never hidden his feelings for Ginny. She knew exactly how he felt about her. Breaking up with her had been necessary, to protect her, and she knew that! Clearly Dean had been filling her head with nonsense about Harry’s true feelings. When he got his hands on that git…but for now, he waited for Ginny to arrive. He had no doubt where she would go now that she had left Hogwarts. The Burrow was as much her security blanket as it was his. The sudden shaking of the ground proved his guess accurate. The Knight Bus materialized out of thin air in front of the path leading up to the Burrow. The door opened and Ginny stepped down.
Harry felt his breath catch and his throat constrict as his mind went blank. He should have prepared himself for the sight of her, but realized that wouldn’t have worked anyway. Her beauty had always been intoxicating, it made him act like a besotted little schoolboy. Was it natural for a woman to have such an alluring mane of striking reddish hues, or eyes of chocolaty honey that made him want nothing more than to melt into them? All at once Stan Shunpike leapt down the stairs of the bus throwing himself in front of her like a sacrificial lamb. Registering his action, Harry made note to buy him something extravagant for Christmas.
“It’s alright Stan,” Ginny’s voice carried over in the wind as she cast Harry a strange look.
“Yah sure ‘bout dat?”
“Yes.”
Stan backtracked into the bus and with a pop the whole thing disappeared. Harry knew that now was the moment of truth. He had been waiting for her a long time, thanks to Dean. He dropped the cloak from this head to reveal his identity as they stared at one another. She opened her mouth to speak.
Hear me…Hear me…Hear me