Harry Potter Fanfiction: What He Was After
Long story, short version: Lee Jordan's back at Hogwarts trying to deal with Fred's death. I don't own much of this story--just what I've put into Lee's head. J.K Rowling created the world of Harry Potter and Lee Jordan. And since it's an RP, I don't know where it's going...And that's half the fun. A fuller explanation here.
What He Was After
2 Last Minute Decisions Lead to Problems
"You can’t have a better tomorrow if you are thinking about yesterday all the time."
--Charles F. Kettering
“I won’t fly away.” said George. “I think I’m gonna sleep down here again tonight. Just to…uh. Let you know.”
Lee nodded. He could pretend it was still his 7th year and Fred and George were off successful in Diagon Alley, but George didn’t have any sort of memory like that in their dorm room. Lee walked to his trunk, and tried to stuff more of his things completely inside it before heading towards the stairs.
George groaned. Lee spun around making sure he was alright-as alright as he could be- George had his face in his hands. Lee fought the impulse to sleep in the Common Room, too. It sounded as if George expected him to go up there without him tonight. Maybe he needed some time alone.Lee headed towards the stairs again.
He stopped when George said,“Watch your step in front of the dresser, though.”
“Thanks,” said Lee. He paused. “Do you want a blanket or anything?” The Common Room fireplace was probably warm enough, but…Great. Was everything he said going to be in a weird code now?
“Huh.. Uh.. n-no, it’s fine. I’m good like this.Thanks, mate.Nice to um, see you again.”
” ‘Night, mate. May sweeter dreams await…” Lee said. The last thing he had said was less cryptic. Never had word choice been more important. At least that part of his head seemed to be working a bit better again. A flick of the wrist and he followed his trunk as it zoomed towards their dorm.
He followed his trunk bobbing up in down in the tiny light glowing from the tip of his wand. He supposed he’d been running from this. From seeing George without Fred, from acknowledging the holes in souls of so many people he didn’t know how to fix-including his own. Lee could pretend when he was with his muggle relatives. They treated him the same as if nothing had happened. They didn’t know. They didn’t know he and his father had spent hours secretly casting spells of protection over their houses in the night. They didn’t know. He didn’t want them to know.
When he was with them, he could pretend he didn’t know too. He wasn’t sure they were better off knowing. A part of him wondered if that was one of the reasons magic was legally suppose to be kept a secret. Some witch or wizard trying to spare his non-magical half of his or her family from pain.
His trunk hit the closed door of his dorm with a bang shaking him from his thoughts. He waved his trunk aside, maneuvered around it, opened the door, and directed it next to his bed. He closed the door behind him and lit a few candles. The floor in front of the dresser glittered as pieces of something shiny caught the light. The mirror. Oh, George.
He stood in front of the shattered pieces and dried blood on the floor. He bent down,”Tergeo.” He siphoned the dried blood off the floor and vanished the pieces of jagged glass away. He wished he could rid people of guilt and pain just as easily. Lee, he thought, you should’ve stopped running sooner.
He didn’t repair the mirror.