“We’re looking for an average height, dark haired man, eighteen years old, with a lightning bolt scar. Have you seen anyone around?”
The old bearded wizard gave Ron a shrewd and calculating look. “Yer looking fer that Potter boy, ain’t ye?”
Ron started. “Yes- er- how did you know?”
“Lightning bolt scar, I ask ye. As if everyone didn’ already know his story… Anyway, I’m one o’ them villagers here who called them Ministry buffoons when we was hearin’ all that noise in the Hog’s Head. Scared my poor old Kneazles right out o’ their skins, I can tell ye…” he said, trailing away and muttering under his breath about disturbances.
“So you knew that Harry Potter was involved?” Ron inquired anxiously.
“Course I did. Saw the poor guy runnin’ out of the pub, stumblin’ something dreadful. If I saw him on the street like that, I’d tell him he’d be a good lad to sit down an’ let the whiskey wear off a bit…” the man replied. Ron barely listened as he continued to grumble.
“You saw Harry? Which way did he go? You have to tell me, now!” Ron said, hurriedly cutting off the old wizard’s monologue.
“Oy, calm yerself, lad. I don’ know what way he went, I wasn’ watchin’. If I was ye, though, I’d check out them rocks out o’ the village. There’s a lot o’ stuff out there none o’ us livin’ here ever bother with…”
Having heard enough, Ron Weasley pulled his traveling cloak closer around his shoulders and bent over against the bitter January wind, gasping as the frigid air rushed into his throat. Dusk was falling, and he now had one place he wanted to visit in Hogsmeade before turning in for the night at the Three Broomsticks. He hurried onward, towards the craggy hills on the outskirts of the village, which he remembered, having visited them in his fourth year.
The search for Harry was going badly. Ron had been inquiring after his best friend for a week and a half now. If Harry wasn’t near those caves, Ron had no idea where he might be found.
Pulling the blue scarf Hermione had knitted him closer over his nose, he trudged along the dirty path, blinking as tiny pinpricks of sleet hit his face. I hope Ginny appreciates this, he thought sullenly. This weather is just awful.
He picked his way among the rocks on the hill, not quite sure where the handy cave might be. Fourth year seemed ages ago to him now. However, he remembered the place when he came to it, almost as if Sirius’s dog paws had padded over the familiar rock just yesterday.
A young man sat in the corner of the cave. And it was undoubtedly Harry.
He looked disgusting, with tangled and matted hair that was encrusted with a layer of dusty grime. His face was bleeding and dirty, and his nose was running. His torn, stained and bloody clothes hung loosely against his frame. His skeleton could be seen under his blistered skin.
The worst sight was his eyes. They were hard and dead, as if the soul inside them had shriveled up into the deep recesses of his mind. His pain was evident, and his expression was wild and deranged. His normally green eyes were masked by a bloodshot pink tinge, and his pupils were dilated to the point where the green was almost invisible.
Ron gasped at the sight of the man before him. This was not Harry. This was some ghost of Harry, some gory, disgusting spirit. Real Harry did not look like that.
Real Harry also did not brandish a knife at his best friend, but that was what this Harry was doing.
Ron pulled his wand cautiously from his pocket. He was not afraid of Harry’s knife, but Harry was obviously insane and did not understand what was going on. What Ron was actually afraid of was if this insane model of Harry suddenly decided to pull out his wand.
“Harry?” Ron whispered, peering at him.
“Get… away,” Harry said, hoarsely, staring at Ron with wildly gleaming eyes and waving the jagged knife clumsily in front of him.
“Harry, it’s okay. It’s just me, Ron,” Ron said cautiously, not moving.
“Get away… from me,” Harry repeated.
“Harry, you’re not right in the head. You need”“ Ron started, but Harry interrupted him.
“I’m”I’m a murderer. Get away,” Harry croaked, tears spilling unexpectedly from his emerald eyes as his entire body shook.
“What the…?” Ron murmured to himself, unnerved by Harry’s strange behavior. “Harry, you’re not a murderer.”
“You want to bet?”
Harry whipped his wand out of his pocket, shouting something Ron couldn’t decipher, since it was more like a croak. Instantly, a rat came soaring out of a corner of the cave, coming to rest in front of Harry, squealing wildly. Ron watched in horror as Harry raised his wand again before the squeaking creature on the floor.
”AVADA KEDAVRA!” he yelled, green light flashing to illuminate his hungry, feral eyes. The rat slumped, dead on the floor.
“See?” Harry whispered. “See? I can kill with mere whim. I have the power to snuff its life out like a candle. I can make them hurt if I want to.”
He grasped the dead rat in his filthy fingers, staring at it fiercely. Suddenly, without warning, he struck, tearing at the rat’s raw flesh with his teeth. A harsh ripping, squelching sound filled the cave, and Ron nearly gagged.
“Harry, stop!” he yelled, stumbling a few paces forward. Harry looked up at Ron, a carnal hunger and empty insanity simultaneously filling his eyes.
“I can kill you too, Ron… I can kill you in an instant”just like I did for Voldemort, just like I did for all the rats in this cave. I can make you hurt if I want to…” Harry rasped, as Ron edged slightly closer to him, staring at Harry as though unable to believe his eyes.
“You can’t save yourself,” Harry whispered, as if the idea of so much dangerous power was tearing him up inside.
“I can save myself,” Ron said, horrified. “I just have to save you first.”
He raised his wand. ”STUPEFY!”
Harry slumped back onto the dirt of the cave. Shaking with shock and horror, Ron grabbed his best friend in the whole word by the arm, and Apparated to St. Mungo’s.
Deep in his dreams, Harry Potter could feel nothing. No pain, no guilt or suffering or terror. His mind was wonderfully and utterly blank, filled with nothing but swirling, soft pale haze.
It was utter bliss, and he was loath to wake up.
He could hear voices softly muttering in the vicinity of his body, and white light shone warmly on his eyes. He felt nothing but soft, warm cloud beneath him, lifting him up and wrapping him in a cocoon of steam.
In his dreams, a girl came to him, walking towards him through a misty cloud, her small, delicate hand reaching out to grasp his. Bright steams of sunlight burst out from behind her, illuminating her shining red hair and deep brown eyes. Harry could feel his breath catch in his chest.
She was close to him now, her hands inches away from caressing his face, hovering a centimeter above his cheeks. He could feel the warmth of her body radiating around her, and he wanted nothing more than to pull her to him and never let go.
But Harry knew he couldn’t, because horrible things would happen.
Gently, she lowered her fingers to his face. He tried to yell for her to stop, to get away, to save herself, but it was too late. A searing, burning force rushed through Harry’s body. The girl screamed, her cry piercing through his muddled mind, and fell backwards to the floor. Her skin was blistered and burned, and her eyes were closed.
In his dream, Harry knew they would never open again. He tried to yell, but his lungs seemed to be full of cotton. Iron hands were gripping down on him, and urgent voices were yelling nearby.
He wanted to wake up, but his eyes were glued shut. He thought he was dying. He knew he didn’t deserve to live, anyway. He had proven that.
He was falling, plummeting through ice cold winds…
He was reaching out from the bottom of a well, for people that could hardly hear him…
He was flying high above the clouds, the sun burning him and blinding him…
A Healer stood hopelessly by Harry’s hospital bed, wondering why on earth he had tears streaming down his cheeks.
The Hardest Thing by smiley10792
Chapter Notes: Sorry this took a while (I seem to be saying sorry a lot lately!). It was just that stupid thing I call life getting in the way all the time... Just remember while reading this that Harry is insane, and his character in this chapter is not his real self.
Disclaimer: I'm not JKR. Nor are these characters my creation.