Post by MinnieQuill on Dec 7, 2006 4:36:49 GMT -5
A Woman's Grief; A Child's Revelation
Summary:- A meeting with a woman he has the utmost respect for reinforces Harry's hatred of Voldemort
This is taken from HBP p607
‘His hand closed automatically around the fake horcrux, but in spite of everything, in spite of the dark and twisting path he saw stretching ahead for himself, in spite of the final meeting with Voldemort he knew must come, whether in a month, in a year, or in ten, he felt his heart lift at the thought that there was still one last golden day of peace left to enjoy with Ron and Hermione.’
Harry lay in his bed in the Gryffindor dormitory for what he knew would be the last time. Ron had drifted to sleep only moments before hand leaving Harry alone to contemplate the future. Would he live or would he die? Would Voldemort have the last laugh or would he, Harry find the power and ruthlessness to kill him?
He swung his legs over the edge of his four-poster bed and hung his head between his knees. He couldn’t answer those questions and he didn’t want to. They made the future all too real for him.
He raised his head and looked out the window. His gaze was drawn instinctively toward Dumbledore’s white marble tomb and he noticed with some surprise that there was a solitary figure standing beside it. He couldn’t discern the person’s features and rose to his feet and peered out the window in an attempt to identify the individual. His efforts proved fruitless and he threw on his dressing gown and ran down the stairs to investigate.
He ran lightly down the stairs and past the portrait hole. The Fat Lady gave a half-hearted enquiry as to where he was headed but Harry ignored her and she dissolved into sobs. He bypassed the numerous ghosts and quickly exited from the Great Hall and crossed the grounds to where Dumbledore had been put to rest.
His step was light and the figure didn’t notice his stealthy approach. Harry hid behind a rose bush and peered around its thorny branches. What he saw made him start and he fell in an ungainly heap to the hard ground.
“Potter!”
Professor McGonagall turned and saw Harry’s crumpled form. Her face was tear-streaked and her hair had fallen from the constraints of its tight bun and now hung to her waist. She looked oddly luminous in the moonlight and strangely Harry found himself noticing to his surprise that she was stunningly beautiful. The woman in front of him juxtaposed sharply with her usual stern counterpart and she turned from him and crossed her arms across her chest.
“Harry,” she amended in a softer tone.
She didn’t speak any further and Harry pushed himself up from the ground and stood beside her. Tears were falling down her cheeks and cautiously Harry placed a consolatory hand on her shoulder.
“Professor?” he asked softly.
She didn’t respond and instead knelt beside Dumbledore’s tomb and touched her fingers to her lips before placing them on the white marble. There was a brief flash of light and Harry saw the words ‘Albus Dumbledore. Husband, Soulmate, Saviour’ before the words vanished leaving the marble untarnished.
Professor McGonagall let out a straggled sob and flung herself over the grave her body wracking in grief. Harry stood back unsure of how to react to his Professor’s behaviour. The grieving woman in front of him bore no resemblance to his stern, inflexible Head of House.
“Albus,” she said softly regaining some of her composure and wiping her tears from her face, “Albus.”
It was then that everything clicked into place and Harry crossed to her side in a moment and pulled her into an embrace.
“You were married?” he asked gently as he rocked her back-and-forth forgetting the sizeable age difference between them. She was a woman in pain and it was not in Harry’s nature not to comfort her in the best manner he could.
She nodded sharply and stood up abruptly. Harry could see her face moulding itself back into its usual firm mask and placed a hand on her cheek.
“You have to grieve Professor,” he said softly.
She gave a harsh laugh. Harry thought it may have been one of the most heart-wrenching sounds he had ever heard.
“No Harry,” she said, “I have a school to run.”
With that last remark she strode away from him and toward the Great Hall. Her gait lengthened as she moved away and by the time she entered the Great Hall she was walking with her usual confident air, her head held erect.
Harry stared after her and quickly ran to catch up.
“Professor!” he said as he finally drew level with her. She stopped walking and turned to face him.
“Harry,” she said softly giving him a soft smile, “Don’t worry about me.”
Harry looked at her and felt a flood of admiration for his teacher. Former teacher he amended. He would be leaving tomorrow.
As if reading his thoughts she pulled him toward her and gave him a brief hug. As she drew back she ran a finger along his jawline.
“I’m damn proud of you Harry.”
Again she turned before he could respond and Harry stood there rooted to the spot as her footsteps became more distant. He knew it would be pointless to go after her. Professor McGonagall was not one who could be comforted easily.
“Goodbye Professor,” he muttered quietly. He turned and began to walk slowly toward Gryffindor Tower. He didn’t notice the Tabby Cat with square marked spectacles looking at him from a suit of armour.
“Damn proud,” she muttered.
Harry was certain he heard a cat meow but when he turned around he saw nothing. Shrugging he continued his journey with a new sense of purpose. Voldemort had destroyed most things dear to Harry but he had never thought of the effect he had on others. Professor McGonagall’s grief fuelled his hatred of this evil force and his walk became one of determination.
He no longer had any reservations about his ruthlessness.
Great Job!
Ahh well.
What dark ending! Really interesting and refreshing. It's so hard to think that he has to be that ruthless... it's going to destroy him... Poor Min is already destroyed, not even allowed to greive. Wonderful story, but very sad.
x
