The Boy Who Cried
folder
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
5
Views:
2,855
Reviews:
12
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
5
Views:
2,855
Reviews:
12
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
The Boy Who Lived...
“HER-MI-ON-E!!!!!”
The scream woke her up. That was not right. He never screamed, especially in his nightmares. Her head whipped up, looking at him.
He was sitting up, thrashing about. His hands found his glasses, which he had stopped wearing after learning a spell for proper vision, and slammed them onto his face, his other hand his wand. He wasn’t LOOKING, although he was flailing about, screaming her name. How odd. What was wrong with him.
His eyes finally locked onto the auburn-haired object of his fear and love, and he sprang from his bed, quite literally, wand up. “ALOHAMORA!” The force of the spell was so much that the entire chain, collar, and the bolt in the wall simply disintegrated into all of it’s component parts, which tinkled down onto the floor.
This was quite, quite the shock to her. She hadn’t been free in... Too many months to count. More of a shock was the way he slammed into her, his arms wrapping around her, and raising her literally off the ground. Tears were streaming from beneath his glasses, his head on his shoulder. “Hermione! What happened, where are we! Voldemort! Where is he! Did he put you here? I’ll kill ‘em!”
This surprised her enough to actually speak. “Voldemort? He killed himself; at the graduation. What are you talking about? Potter? Why are you doing this? Is this some sick game?”
Her voice started out as her old self, but when she said Potter, it grew... different, strange, and sort of scared.
“Hermione? Wh-What do you mean? Where are we, where is everyone?”
His voice was trembling, his whole body was, as he squeezed her.
“What everyone, Potter? You killed them all, or ran them off, one.”
Her voice was bitter, but a spark in her mind had ignited. Hope. He did NOT sound like the person who had calmly chatted about murdering his old teacher last night, and then raped her mouth. Now that she thought back, he had ALWAYS sounded different. His old self was... More reverent, to her, to everyone, and kind. This one had been plain strange. But now he was scared, but his old self…
“Harry?”
He choked, pulling back, looking into her eyes. “K-Killed? W-w-what do you mean?”
She gasped softly. Was it? “What year is it, Harry?”
“Who gives a damn? It’s 1998, but where is everyone? Why are you naked? Why am I naked? Where’s Ron, where’s Neville, Dumbledore, all of them?! What’s happened? Where’d the graduation go?!”
A choke from behind him, also issued. “H-H-Harry? Is that you?”
He whirled around, wand up. When he saw her, he knew. Not that he remembered a thing, at all, but he sickly, somehow, /knew./
“Cho... Hermione... What have I done?”
In that second, as his wand fell to the carpet with the sound of an atomic weapon, Hermione knew. She knew that the Boy Who Lived was back again, and Lord Harold was gone for good. Her friend, the boy who had smiled at her on a train, that she had said “Holy Cricket!” to, and that she knew more about than he himself did, so long ago. She slammed into him, from behind, squeezing him tightly.
He was numb, disoriented, but sickly, keenly aware, of what was happening, as Hermione slammed into him, squeezing. Her foot found his wand, and pulled it up to her hand, leveling it at Cho. “Alohamora!”
That voice. Sweetness. He knew it so well; it would be the ring of angels calling him back.
Cho also slammed into him, brushing his hair with her fingers. “H-Harry... Oh, it’s really you. That silly boy who threw the Quidditch Cup to Ravenclaw...” She sobbed once, laying her head on his shoulder, and Harry looked at it, in one way numbly, in another wonderfully acute of the sensation. He saw Hermione’s hand gently stroking Cho’s hair, and he himself curled his arms around her.
“What’s happened, Hermione?”
“Harry... Oh, Harry! After Graduation, you seemed to change.”
“What /happened/ at Graduation? I remember Voldemort casting the Killing Curse on you! How you you alive?”
She laughed softly, tears streaking her face, burying her head in his hair. “B-because. His wand backfired. Voldemort killed himself. But you changed, almost instantly... It was terrifying, and terrifyingly brilliant. Within a month, you’d taken over the Death Eaters. It’s 2000, Harry... You have been calling yourself Lord Harold for the past two years, and you... you took over. Anyone who opposed you either died, or got locked away. We... Oh, Harry, we’re at Hogwarts. But it’s not a school, anymore. It’s... It’s the Death Eater’s hideout...”
Harry sniffled softly. “I... I... Oh gods, no... Where’s Ron? Ron!?”
Hermione shook her head. “I truly do not know. The last I heard of him, he was on the run with McGonnagal. She’s the only teacher who hasn’t been captured. You ordered them all captured alive, Harry... Except Dumbledore, he, well. He escaped. There’s no leads on him.”
Harry snorted, softly, and laughed. Then he doubled over, softly, laughing. “W-what about the students? G-Ginny? Neville?”
Hermione shook her head. “Ginny... She’s in a bad shape. Ah... I heard th-they were… Well. Keeping her in the basement... For...” Hermione sobbed, and Harry felt ice in his gut, galvanizing him.
“Where are you wands, your clothes? MY clothes?! I’m not wearing... That!” He pointed his quivering wand at Lord Harold’s attire.
“I-In the closet, back there...”
Harry sighed. “Cho, Hermione?... I don’t know what’s happened. But by the stars above, we WILL make it right!”
The scream woke her up. That was not right. He never screamed, especially in his nightmares. Her head whipped up, looking at him.
He was sitting up, thrashing about. His hands found his glasses, which he had stopped wearing after learning a spell for proper vision, and slammed them onto his face, his other hand his wand. He wasn’t LOOKING, although he was flailing about, screaming her name. How odd. What was wrong with him.
His eyes finally locked onto the auburn-haired object of his fear and love, and he sprang from his bed, quite literally, wand up. “ALOHAMORA!” The force of the spell was so much that the entire chain, collar, and the bolt in the wall simply disintegrated into all of it’s component parts, which tinkled down onto the floor.
This was quite, quite the shock to her. She hadn’t been free in... Too many months to count. More of a shock was the way he slammed into her, his arms wrapping around her, and raising her literally off the ground. Tears were streaming from beneath his glasses, his head on his shoulder. “Hermione! What happened, where are we! Voldemort! Where is he! Did he put you here? I’ll kill ‘em!”
This surprised her enough to actually speak. “Voldemort? He killed himself; at the graduation. What are you talking about? Potter? Why are you doing this? Is this some sick game?”
Her voice started out as her old self, but when she said Potter, it grew... different, strange, and sort of scared.
“Hermione? Wh-What do you mean? Where are we, where is everyone?”
His voice was trembling, his whole body was, as he squeezed her.
“What everyone, Potter? You killed them all, or ran them off, one.”
Her voice was bitter, but a spark in her mind had ignited. Hope. He did NOT sound like the person who had calmly chatted about murdering his old teacher last night, and then raped her mouth. Now that she thought back, he had ALWAYS sounded different. His old self was... More reverent, to her, to everyone, and kind. This one had been plain strange. But now he was scared, but his old self…
“Harry?”
He choked, pulling back, looking into her eyes. “K-Killed? W-w-what do you mean?”
She gasped softly. Was it? “What year is it, Harry?”
“Who gives a damn? It’s 1998, but where is everyone? Why are you naked? Why am I naked? Where’s Ron, where’s Neville, Dumbledore, all of them?! What’s happened? Where’d the graduation go?!”
A choke from behind him, also issued. “H-H-Harry? Is that you?”
He whirled around, wand up. When he saw her, he knew. Not that he remembered a thing, at all, but he sickly, somehow, /knew./
“Cho... Hermione... What have I done?”
In that second, as his wand fell to the carpet with the sound of an atomic weapon, Hermione knew. She knew that the Boy Who Lived was back again, and Lord Harold was gone for good. Her friend, the boy who had smiled at her on a train, that she had said “Holy Cricket!” to, and that she knew more about than he himself did, so long ago. She slammed into him, from behind, squeezing him tightly.
He was numb, disoriented, but sickly, keenly aware, of what was happening, as Hermione slammed into him, squeezing. Her foot found his wand, and pulled it up to her hand, leveling it at Cho. “Alohamora!”
That voice. Sweetness. He knew it so well; it would be the ring of angels calling him back.
Cho also slammed into him, brushing his hair with her fingers. “H-Harry... Oh, it’s really you. That silly boy who threw the Quidditch Cup to Ravenclaw...” She sobbed once, laying her head on his shoulder, and Harry looked at it, in one way numbly, in another wonderfully acute of the sensation. He saw Hermione’s hand gently stroking Cho’s hair, and he himself curled his arms around her.
“What’s happened, Hermione?”
“Harry... Oh, Harry! After Graduation, you seemed to change.”
“What /happened/ at Graduation? I remember Voldemort casting the Killing Curse on you! How you you alive?”
She laughed softly, tears streaking her face, burying her head in his hair. “B-because. His wand backfired. Voldemort killed himself. But you changed, almost instantly... It was terrifying, and terrifyingly brilliant. Within a month, you’d taken over the Death Eaters. It’s 2000, Harry... You have been calling yourself Lord Harold for the past two years, and you... you took over. Anyone who opposed you either died, or got locked away. We... Oh, Harry, we’re at Hogwarts. But it’s not a school, anymore. It’s... It’s the Death Eater’s hideout...”
Harry sniffled softly. “I... I... Oh gods, no... Where’s Ron? Ron!?”
Hermione shook her head. “I truly do not know. The last I heard of him, he was on the run with McGonnagal. She’s the only teacher who hasn’t been captured. You ordered them all captured alive, Harry... Except Dumbledore, he, well. He escaped. There’s no leads on him.”
Harry snorted, softly, and laughed. Then he doubled over, softly, laughing. “W-what about the students? G-Ginny? Neville?”
Hermione shook her head. “Ginny... She’s in a bad shape. Ah... I heard th-they were… Well. Keeping her in the basement... For...” Hermione sobbed, and Harry felt ice in his gut, galvanizing him.
“Where are you wands, your clothes? MY clothes?! I’m not wearing... That!” He pointed his quivering wand at Lord Harold’s attire.
“I-In the closet, back there...”
Harry sighed. “Cho, Hermione?... I don’t know what’s happened. But by the stars above, we WILL make it right!”