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My Immortal by Heart of the Flames
Chapter 1: My Immortal
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I've known something was wrong with Harry since the end of sixth year. I just never said anything, and now I truly hate myself for it. Only Ron and Ginny saw the changes, the clues... But Ginny's dead; she was murdered a few months ago by an insane Lucius Malfoy when he kidnapped Harry. Malfoy made Harry watch Ginny die-- the torture, her shrieks for Harry's help... the very last breath she drew.... He wasn't the same when Draco rescued him. He didn't speak. His eyes were haunted.
Suppressed by all my childish fears
And if you have to leave
I wish that you would just leave
'Cause your presence still lingers here
And it won't leave me alone
Don't ask me why I'm telling you this, since I myself have no idea... I guess it's just hard to deal with. I've lived in fear for my best friend for months now-- and it wasn't because I was afraid of outside attempts on his life. I was scared I'd lose my best friend of seven, no, eight years... to... himself.
Ron and I were terrified when Draco dragged Harry into Grimmauld Place. Our former enemy from school switched sides after his own father tried to kill him. I think we finally see eye-to-eye thanks to a common goal and shared experiences. Harry had been unconscious and covered with hideous injuries. The Order had trouble locating him, leaving him in the company of Lucius Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle for about a week. It was only when Draco returned from an errand did a ray of hope flicker into life. We were so scared....
Our best friend recovered after a short stay in St. Mungo's. I could only stand by and watch as something in Harry withered and died. I think it was his heart. His eyes remained bright green, but the twinkle that lit them had been extinguished; the voice we all knew so well fell into disuse, aside from the nightly pleading for friends long dead that issued from Sirius' old room.
Harry had been murdered by grief and guilt, just like the redhead he loved had been murdered by Lucius Malfoy's wand.
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase
He stopped eating after he left the hospital. Cuts appeared all over his arms, but he made no attempt to hide them from a distraught Remus, a tearful Mrs. Weasley. He seemed completely oblivious to all of us, moving about the house the way he did, sitting on the windowsill in Ginny's room, hugging his knees with glassy eyes.
I was so scared. Beyond scared, even. I was numb with terror, horror, because of what was happening around me.
Ron couldn't do anything either. He tried speaking to him. He tried everything he could.... But it wasn't enough. We stuck by him all these years; we helped him through so many obstacles.
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have
All of me
But it wasn't enough.
One afternoon Harry vanished. One afternoon a battle began, and a war ended.
I instructed my fiance to go back to the Order and help out there; I assured him I would be able to take care of myself. My wand whipped back and forth, firing spells at random towards the oncoming Death Eaters.
He nodded and slipped away through the raging battle, but not before he whispered, "Be careful, 'Mione. I love you-- never forget that," in my ear.
He was gone before I could reply.
Screams erupted from somewhere up ahead, where the main chamber of the caverns lay. When the Death Eaters chose this place as a hideout, they had actually used their brains. The Order and I had managed to fight our way through the outer reaches of the place, and were currently working on penetrating the inner caves. The shrieks of agony halted all movement from both sides for a completely silent minute. They rang with pain; they were full to bursting with both emotional and physical torture.... They were the sounds of a victim that I happened to know from previous dark times.
I hadn't wanted to believe it. I didn't want to shout it. I didn't want to even think it was my best friend screaming his lungs out up ahead.
I plowed through the ranks of leering Death Eaters; I barrelled through a heavy wooden door...
To find Voldemort dead, and Harry standing over the corpse.
I hadn't even noticed the screams tapering off to silence.
But something was wrong, so very wrong... I just knew it...
Silver streaked the blood-soaked jet-black hair. The pupils of Harry's eyes were huge. Blood fell from his chin like a silly beard made of crimson ribbons; the hated liquid dripped from his wand. He cast one last spell at Voldemort's forever-motionless form and glanced at me. And then he fell.
I rushed over to him, crying, and immediately Disapparated to St. Mungo's. The Healers tried to separate us, but I followed and remained next to him the entire time.
Once more, he recovered.
Those curious streaks of silver ran through his hair, just like his fingers used to. The haunted look in his eyes had intensified. Most of his sanity had slipped away.
But one thought remained.
Ron returned from the battle with news of the Death Eaters' hasty retreat. I regret leaving Harry alone in that hospital room to hear the report from the Order, and to give one of my own. I was told how most of Voldemort's followers got captured, how the Ministry acted once they found the most valuable corpse of all...
And then we heard it: the clatter of something metallic, and the thud of something heavy.
The lot of us rushed in: Ron, Tonks, Moody, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, the twins, Draco, Remus, and I...
"He... he's d-dead."
The simple statement echoed around the room. We were shocked, but I simply can't deny that a part of me knew it was coming... that I could have prevented it....
On the bedside table was a note. The writing was shaky, and hard to read because of the bloodstains. It read:
I'm sorry for killing Ginny. I'm sorry for killing myself. But most of all, I'm sorry for ruining your lives.
Thank you for everything,
He didn't even have time to sign it properly. Why did I leave him alone? Why...?
My eyes moved to his bloody body, observing with a sickening but curious sense of horror the deathly pale skin, unmoving chest, rivers of crimson flowing from his wrists to the once white tile floor.
With a slow-motion turn of the head, I saw the sticky quill clutched tightly in his right hand, the scarlet-tinted surgical knife on the floor, his shattered glasses... and the vacuous eyes behind them, the very ones that haunt my dreams.
By your resonating life
Now I'm bound by the life you've left behind
Your face it haunts
My once pleasant dreams
Your voice it chased away
All the sanity in me
So here I am, sitting beside his gravestone, examining the grass. I feel a connection when I'm here. I broke it off with Ron to clutch at shards of shattered dreams realized much too late to salvage.
But though you're still with me
I've been alone all along
I wish I could have said some sort of good-bye. I wish Harry hadn't found that knife. I wish I could fix everything.
I wish the gravestone next to me read:
A/N-- Yeah. Let me know what you think. Reviews are most appreciated. Cupcakes, cookies, and other edible paraphernalia that would drive my orthodontist mad will be rewarded to those rare kind souls...