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Epilogues, Part I: Shadows
Chapter 1: Run
Smoke mixed with the stench of death as it wafted up from the cold, muddy ground. Here and there dark, hunched shapes shifted and lurched slowly, little more than charcoal gray blobs struggling to exist against the waning night. It was over.
Harry stared into the dulled red eyes as they in kind stared emptily into the lightly drizzling sky as it gradually slipped from jet black to the darkest grey. He was gone. No more did his chest heave with breath; no more did that nose, more like a snake’s than a man’s, inhale and exhale hot, venomous air. His already pale skin had now faded into an impossible white, as though it had in death rejected all possibility of color. Voldemort was dead.
At the end of the fight, when his final victory came, Harry had expected to feel a million different things, but not this. Not this hole that had seemed to crawl inside of him and spread like some disease. His stomach lurched and Harry quickly pulled away from the dead body before him and vomited violently, taking an inordinate amount of care not to let the putrescence spill upon his fallen enemy.
He wretched and wretched until all that came out was rank air and hot tears, and the tears continued to gush even after his body stopped convulsing mutinously.
Why does it feel like this? he asked himself. WHY?
You know why, a small voice said inside his mind, but Harry shook his head, refusing to listen. Refusing to grant it purchase in his mind. Thankfully, off in the distance, he heard a familiar voice call out in the approaching dawn.
“RON!” it shouted, and as Harry looked, he could see a bushy-haired shadow dashing across the field to a much taller shadow whose red hair was only just beginning to show its brilliance in the coming daylight. When the two forms met each other, they collapsed instantly, and Harry for a moment thought something was wrong, but he could still see them moving, the first slivers of the morning sun appearing behind them. He returned his teary gaze to Voldemort.
You know why it hurts this much, the voice reappeared. You killed a man.
He WASN’T a man! Harry screamed inside his head. Look at him! THAT’S NOT A MAN! HE WAS A MONSTER!
He was a man once, and a boy before that.
But look at what he became, Harry pleaded with himself.
Does that matter? Really?
Of course it does!
Than why do you feel this way?
I DON’T KNOW! he thought pounding his fist into the moist ground. But he did know. What is this, guilt?
The voice ignored the question. He was a boy once, remember? Like you. He was an orphan, like you. Only, hadn’t his life been harder than yours? Your parents died, yes, but, they died out of love for you. What about his parents? They both abandoned him in a way; his mother refusing to save herself for her only son, his father shunning his existence out of disgust. At least, for the short time you had them, your parents loved you. Tom never had that.
Shut up! Harry cried internally. The world around him didn’t even seem to exist anymore. It was just him, the cold body before him, and that stupid, useless, voice. Shut up. It’s not like that… It’s not… HE KILLED MY PARENTS!
Oh, revenge, that’s noble, said the voice and he hated it. He could have dealt with it, he thought, if it was smug, or nasty, but it wasn’t either of those things. It was, in fact, not at all unkind and vaguely sympathetic. You’ve come all this way, and in the end, it was all just for revenge.
Just stop! Stop saying things. He had to… to die. He had to… His head was spinning and as the tears came harder and faster, he felt as though he might throw up again. But he gripped his stomach and swallowed some tears and squinted his eyes, straining as hard as he could to stop that voice. That stupid voice that was at once ludicrous, and yet so… what exactly? Reasonable?
You can slice it any way you like, but in the end, you know what you are now.
Oh yeah? What’s that? Harry asked defiantly, though he already knew the answer.
A killer, the voice said in much the same way a parent would inform their child that the puppy was killed overnight. What’s more, they’re going to know it too. Not now. No. For now you’ll be the hero, but something will change. Everything changes. You’ll do something, say something, and it could be quite small, and then they’ll start to remember, and then…
Then what? he asked, and the voice didn’t answer. As Harry looked over at Ron and Hermione, they continued to sit buried in one another, rocking. He wasn’t close enough to hear, but Harry somehow managed to know they were crying. Why weren’t they running over to him? Why wasn’t he a part of their embrace? Crying with them?
Oh, I think you know the answer to that, came the voice, and Harry groaned audibly.
They’ll come for me. They’re my friends and they’ll come! he thought, sounding in his head more like he was trying to convince himself than stating a fact.
Yes, maybe, but the question is: do you want to be here when they do?
Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?
Come now. The stares. The looks. The whispers you know they will pass behind your back. The dread of waiting for them to realize what you already know about yourself. Do you really want to go through with that? With slowly losing your friends?
No. No. That’s not how… They… But, then, what do I do?
Run, the voice said urgently. Run, and don’t look back. Run and find yourself a hole in the world where you can truly start over. Where you won’t be seen as a murderer. Run, and start over.
Harry could feel his heart pound against his ribs and he lifted a hand to his chest as though to stop it. Instead of his beating heart, what he felt there was a small cold lump beneath his shirt. The locket. Ginny. What about Ginny?
What about her? She must obviously be so important for you not to think of her until now.
That’s not fair. I promised her… I promised her I would come back.
Do you really think she wants you back?
Why wouldn’t she? She told me…
Of course she said what she said. What did you expect her to say? “Off you go, pip-pip. Try not to get killed?”
But…
Don’t fool yourself. It’ll be worse with her than anyone else. She hated Voldemort nearly as much as you did. She hated him for what he did to her, and I expect she’ll hate you for robbing her of the chance to kill him herself. But then, she’ll get over it. She’ll be thankful that it was you and not her. Thankful because it wasn’t her hands with blood on them. But then, she’ll have to realize exactly what you became to do it, wouldn’t she? Besides…
Besides what? he asked, cringing as he knew exactly what the voice in his head was about to say.
Do you really think you’re the same boy she fell in love with? Are you still the same boy that fell in love with her?
I…
Run! Before it’s too late!
But…
RUN!
**
Ron stood on the battlefield, his jaw still hanging stupidly open. Harry had won. They were a far way off, but Ron could tell Harry had won! It was over. The bloody war was over!
Hermione.
They had gotten separated earlier, and knowing that Harry had made it, the only thing Ron had allowed himself to think about was her. There were bodies, too many bodies, strewn all about the field, and he felt a lump form in his throat at the thought that one of them might just be her.
He wanted to shout, but couldn’t seem to remember how to use his vocal cords as panic began to rise. Where the bloody hell is she? he desperately thought as he scanned about, praying that she wasn’t one of the lifeless forms about him. Then he heard it.
“RON!” It was her! She was running towards him, and he could see a steady stream of tears mixing with the blood on her cheeks. His body fell numb. She was alive. She was alive and she was running straight towards him.
“Oof!” he expelled as she collided with him forcing them both to the ground. Before he could make it up to his elbows she was wrapped tightly around him, her tears already dousing the front of his shirt. It was the only thing that distracted him from his own tears flowing freely into her hair.
He wrapped his arms around her tight, not wanting to let her go. He wouldn’t ever let her go. This was their chance, and damn it, he wasn’t blowing it. He held her, and rocked her and whispered shushing noises into her hair.
“Ron,” she sobbed, gripping his shirt so tight he thought she might tear holes in it. “Ron, I thought I lost you. We got separated, and... I tried. I saw you were surrounded and I did everything I could but Death Eaters kept getting in my way and all I wanted to do was get to you but they wouldn't let me and every time someone blocked me I thought that was going to be the one that kept me from getting to you before you..." she began but Ron stopped her from going into hysterics by cutting her off with a long, deep kiss.
Breaking up the kiss, Ron took one of Hermione's hands and said, "Look, it's all right, see? I'm alive, ain't I?" He had guided her hand over his chest slowly, explaining as he did so, "See? I'm all here." He then took her hand and playfully guided it over her own shoulders, and she let out a very wet chuckle. "And, you're here too. No pieces missing," he continued letting their hands wander from her shoulders to her neck, and then slowly down to her chest.
Just before their hands had wandered so far down as to be a little inappropriate, they stopped. A small circle lump had rendered the both of them motionless as Ron and Hermione found each other's eyes. A single tear raced down her cheek as she bit her lip, and Ron could feel his own heart race at the maelstrom of emotions that the shape had created. She used her free arm to pull herself closer to him so that their clasped hands were sandwiched tightly between their heaving chests. Together their hands closed around the small lump through Hermione's shirt, and the look they shared was more intense than any kiss they had snuck in during the past year.
Finally, Ron let go, never taking his eyes from her. "I've been wanting to do this for a long time," he croaked, unable to rid himself of the lump in his throat. Hermione's lip trembled and her eyes widened as she could feel Ron's hand slip around to the back of her neck. He could feel his fingers searching between the bushy hair and smooth skin he loved so much, trembling a little as they did so. Finally he felt the small metallic sensation he was look for, and let the chain slip through his fingers until they found the small clasp.
He remembered the exact moment he had given this to her. He remembered the full moon, and the tears, and how they were sitting exactly like this. He remembered wishing that it didn't have to be like this, but as he brought the two ends of the chain around in between them, he relished every single moment they were now sharing.
Gently, he tugged on the chain, watching with fascination as the lump slowly moved upward from beneath Hermione's shirt. Finally, it appeared from behind her collar, a small gold ring with a tiny diamond set in it. He caught it in his hand as he watched tears pour down Hermione's face, freeing the ring of the chain that had held it prisoner for over a year. Without a word, he took Hermione's left hand in his own, and slipped the ring on her finger. She collapsed into his chest as, for the first time since he had given it to her, she finally was allowed to feel the weight of the ring on her hand where it belonged.
They sat there for some time, enjoying each other's warmth, bathing in the tender feelings they had for each other. It was Hermione who had finally broke the silence. "Oh Ron," she sniffed, "It's over. I can't believe it's over."
He gently ran his fingers through her hair as she incredulously surveyed the ring on her finger. "It's over, and we get to be normal, Ron. Oh, we get to be normal, and have a normal life, and normal jobs, and no more war and death, and..." Her thoughts collapsed into a fresh round of tears, and as Ron felt her body shake with emotion, he realized he too was crying.
"And Harry," she eventually continued. "Oh God, Ron. Harry can finally be normal. He can finally just be himself, and I'm... I'm excited for him. He gets to finally have the life he's deserved for so long, and we're going to be here to see it..." Ron nodded into her hair, and she lifted her face up to his for another kiss, and all Ron could think was that there would be so many more kisses like this in his future that he didn’t think he could hardly stand waiting for the next.
When they broke again, Hermione continued, "And we can tell him, Ron. We can finally tell him about us! I've felt so wrong keeping it from him, but it's okay now, isn't it?" Ron smiled sheepishly in response, finding amazement in the mere thought that Hermione was excited to be marrying him. "Where is he Ron? We should go to him, and I want to tell him, I don't think I can stand waiting for another moment!"
It was only then that Ron realized he hadn't said a single thing in a while. Why should he talk, after all? It only robbed him of the chance to listen to her voice, really. Clearing his throat, he lifted an arm and pointed, "He's right over..." But the rest of his sentence had died in his throat. As the couple turned to follow Ron's pointing finger, the only thing they could see was the dead, and very much alone, body of Lord Voldemort.
Epilogues, Part I: Shadows by Grimmrook
Chapter Notes: disclaimer: Most of the characters in this story belong to author JK Rowling, and I am not using them for personal profit. In later chapters, there will be characters that are my own creation, and I would appreciate at least the courtesy of contacting me prior to any other author using them. Thank you.
a/n: A note about the title. Though "Part I" would imply the beginning of a story, that flies directly in the face of an epilogue which is typically the end of a story. Based on interviews with JKR, the last chapter of book seven will be a kind of epilogue, and the premise of my Epilogues is to expound upon that, taking our beloved heroes from the end of the war against Voldemort, straight to the "happily ever after" point. So while this may be the beginning of a story, that story is in and of itself the end of the canon seven books written by JKR, essentially making it an epilogue (in at least three parts, maybe a fourth).
a/n: Lot's to say about this. First. This is the sequel to my previous two fics, Right Here and One Good Day. I highly recommend that if you haven't read either of those stories yet, go read them now, and then come back to this one. It's not completely necessary, but I do pull from events in those stories for this one, so... To my four betas, I really wanted to say thank you so much for all the hard work and effort you've put into helping me with this very difficult story. They really have been great. Just putting up with me can be a task and a half. So to Rosebeth, hpmaniac666, Critmo, and LittleLily, thank you. Finally, before I let you get started, I have a reviewer incentive for you, and an incentive I'd like to try. I like to write to music. That doesn't make this a songfic, but, what I'd like to do is give you a soundtrack for each chapter; just a suggested list of songs that you can pop in as you read to maybe enhance the experience. Where this becomes a reviewer incentive is that if you can think of a song that would work that I didn't list, add it in your review of the story. And I'll throw it in the soundtrack. Okay, before we get started, here's the soundtrack for this first chapter: Staind; Everything Changes Gorillaz; El Manana Blink 182; I Miss You. Eh, and we'll leave it at that. Incredibly mainstream for my tastes, but I didn't want to list off a bunch of bands no one's heard of before. Enjoy the first chapter! ___