I Will Not Be
~Breven~
(This is by a good friend)
What Once Was, Will Be No More...
No one spoke, moved, or dared to breathe.
The entire body of students was stunned to see the once perfect couple come to a sudden and crashing stop.
"How could you do this to me?!" a furious Cho Chang of Ravenclaw screamed across the Great Hall. Having just taken his seat over at the Gryffindor table, a certain raven-haired boy's emerald eyes widened in shock. Only moments later they narrowed in anger.
"How? How?! You want to know why do you? Because every time I look at you, I can't help but see your face from last years feast; crying while everyone else toasts to Cedric's death!" He growled in fury.
By now, every face at dinner had turned towards the two arguing teens, including the staff.
Harry stood swiftly, his body shaking in a rage that he could barely suppress. Several of the students nearest him began hastily retreating away from the maddened young wizard.
"I can't help," he continued in the same tone, "imagining my friends suffering because of me."
Loosing to the fight to the rage he stepped forward towards the Ravenclaw table, which had all but been deserted around Cho. "I can not help seeing images of my best friends being tortured just because they know me." He paused, taking a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Then he continued.
"I can't help but see people toasting to my friends' valiant and heroic deaths in some not-so-distant future. I see myself crying as I raise my glass in honor of them. Of course," he added sarcastically, "then everyone'll toast to me, defeater of the dreaded and feared Dark Lord! Well, it's not worth it!" he screamed, his lip trembling.
"A toast to the Boy-who-lived!" Harry said mockingly, raising his goblet to his lips before throwing the glass across the hall. It shattered against the wall, raining shards of glass down upon the nearby Slytherins.
"Potter!" roared Snape. The disgruntled potions master was livid at Harry's outburst.
Harry rounded on his teacher. From behind him a hand reached out and Hermione, Harry's closest friend, tried to pull him back from the verbal assault he was about to give Snape. Her grasp was easily avoided as Harry took a step towards Snape, pointing his finger angrily.
"No." Harry continued calmly, though no one missed the flash of danger radiating from his eyes. "I will no longer be your victim."
His eyes shifted to Professor McGonagall, the Transfiguration teacher and Deputy Headmistress. "I will no longer be your experiment..."
Then to Hagrid, the friendly grounds caretaker and Keeper of the Keys. "I will no longer be your savior..."
"Harry?" A voice squeaked in between the words.
Harry's eyes darted to the redheaded boy who was looking upon him with fright. "I'll not be the reason you fall short."
And finally Harry's eyes came to rest on the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. "And I will no longer be your pawn."
There was a sharp intake of breath from a majority of the students present in the hall. None could comprehend, much less believe, the events unfolding before them. No one spoke to Dumbledore like that. No one. He was the most power, most respected wizard in the entire world. One does not simply speak to Albus Dumbledore in such a tone. It just wasn't done.
"You want Voldemort defeated?" More gasps rang throughout the hall at the mention of the Dark Lord's name. "Then fight him yourself. I wash my hands of the matter."
With that final statement, back straight and head held high, Harry strode swiftly from the Great Hall. In his anger, the air rippled as he moved, and moments later the heavy wooden doors that led to the outside creaked open then thundered shut behind him.
Harry never touched the doors.
All eyes now turned to the teacher's table, and they watched as the Headmaster slowly sank into his seat and, with a sigh of resignation, covered his face in his hands. The most powerful wizard in the world, who the students always respected and thought of as nearly invincible and ageless, was suddenly reduced to a weary old man. He looked so very, very old.
Hermione Granger stood quietly and turned to walk back towards the student dormitories, struggling to compose herself. No one missed the single tear that was streaming down from her red eyes. She had made nearly made it to the exit before she collapsed against the wall sobbing. Slowly, she sank to the ground and continued crying, her body shaking uncontrollably as she wept in her grief, oblivious to everyone watching. She had known for a long time that this day would come, but somehow she never expected to really lose her best friend like this.
No one made a move to comfort her.
Gradually, the spell of silence was broken, as one by one, the students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry left their dinners forgotten on their tables; each lost in the turmoil and misery of their own thoughts.
Outside, on top of the Astronomy Tower, Harry Potter stood in the chill of the night air, seemingly lost to the world as a silent figure observed him from afar. Hidden deep within the Forbidden forest, a hooded man stood cloaked in shadow while he thought and planned.Lord Voldemort sneered at the dispirited young boy that everyone had thought would be his downfall. The young man was already broken in mind and spirit, now all that was left to do was to finish the job. This would be too easy.
The Dark Lord could kill the boy now, oh yes, but that would be too clean a death for the lad. He wanted the boy to suffer first before he dies: friendless and alone, with no one to support or console him. In the end, he wanted the boy to beg for his death, cowering on his knees where he belonged. Such was the fate of all that opposed the Dark Lord.
Voldemort turned his back contemptuously on the Boy-who-lived and strode further into the Forbidden forest, his cloak billowing out behind him as he moved, almost like a living thing, before laughing and disapprating from the Hogwart's grounds.
eQuasarus says…
This is Breven's ficlit. He has no account and apparently doesn't want to make one, so he asked me to publish it for him and see what sort of response he'd get. I like it personally, it's interesting. According to him it was written after reading one of my chapters in QAA a long time before I knew him.
So all I really want to say is give him a review and let him know what you think. I know I really relied on them when I first started writing on ff.net.
Breven's Notes:
Well, this short little ficlit was just bouncing around in my brain and finally it just had to get out. I was going to go crazy if it didn't. Well…crazier. Second, I had never wrote anything at all in the Harry Potter side of ficdom, and thought I'd give it a shot. Tell me what you thought if you don't mind. Personally, I think it was an O.K. entry piece. Third, this will kinda give you guys a feel for my writing style I suppose, since most of my work will be published side by side with eQuasarus. So, any-who, give me a review if it ain't too much trouble. Please? Just be gentle with me. I don't mind flames that point out all my blatantly obvious faults, but keep it constructive. I like my faults thank you! I'm actually quite fond of them. If you see anything important that you want to point out, shout. If you see anything horrible, scream. But I imagine the main point of this was to point out the pressure poor Harry is under. How he's viewed in the wizarding world and what he means to those that know him best. The boy has got the world on his shoulders, and frankly, he's had enough of their crap. Aight, I'm done rambling now. I guess. So, tell me what you think and I'll be seeing you all in our latest masterpiece: Changing Faces. Lata!
~-Brev-~