Track 1 Come In Closer spoilers for ootp behind the cut
Muse: Harry Potter
Fandom: Harry Potter
Track: #1 Come In Closer
Artist: Blue October
Rating: PG
Word Count: 825
For the fear of our pain Our souls become useless As the day they were born'>
The first born, my heart will call Truly
A God-like boy of the sky
The fog hissed away like a movie
And serpents go home for the night
The thundercloud rain hits the freeway
The clowns put on makeup for show
The nightfall, my skin crawl kind of evening
And how the wind she blows
How the wind she blows
Harry walked slowly back to the Gryffindor dorms. His mind was reeling from everything that Albus had finally chosen to reveal to him. The prophecy. The blasted prophecy that had been the source of everything that had happened to him and his family. A stupid prophecy that could have meant someone else instead of him.
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives...."
It could have been Neville. Neville who charged in after him to help Harry save his godfather. Neville who had been willing to die than to have Harry hand over the prophecy. Neville who was forever forgetful and just a bit clumsy. Neville...who was recovering in the infirmary because Harry had refused to listen when Hermione warned him that it could have been a trap.
It should have been Neville.
Harry wasn't sure what made him feel that so passionately. Was it his guilt over making a mistake that cost Sirius his life? A mistake that put his friends and members of the order in the infirmary? A mistake that made Remus the last Marauder standing? Because he refused to view Peter as a Marauder. He'd betrayed them. He'd cost Harry his parents. All because of a prophecy.
"And you cost yourself and Remus, Sirius, because of a prophecy. Whose the traitor now, Harry?"
He paused in the hallway, nearly dropping to his knees, as he felt violently ill. He needed air. He could not breathe. He could not tell if that little voice in his head was his guilt, or if somehow Voldemort was still in his mind whispering in his ear. He was not a traitor though. He'd not betrayed them. Any of them. He just foolishly trusted his heart and instincts over his mind and the advice of the cleverest witch in his year. He'd been predictable and Voldemort used it against him. He may not have been a traitor, but the price was the same.
No, no he would not give in this easily. He would find a way to fix the mistake he made. He had too. Harry and Remus needed Sirius back. He'd...
His back scraped against the castle's wall as he slid down to sit with his knees drawn to his chest. Hot tears stung his eyes and marked his face. If he closed his eyes all he could see was that veil. All he could hear was Bellatrix's laughter.
"It wasn't even supposed to be me," he whispered mostly to himself as his shoulders shook with the sobs that seemed to hit him all at once. He couldn't go back to his dorms like this. Harry couldn't face his friends when he had been responsible for some of them being injured and nearly dying.
He couldn't let them see his defeat. His shame. His anger.
It wasn't supposed to be him. It should have been Neville. Why couldn't it have been Neville?
For a moment he was so angry that he could barely see through the tears. It wasn't fair, he thought viciously, why should I be the one to shoulder this just because of a stupid prophecy that some git got wrong. Then he felt shamed again as he thought about Neville in the infirmary. Neville whose parents were as good as gone as Lily and James Potter were. Yet he had no closure. He had to live with the constant reminder of what was so close, and yet so far away. Neville who would follow Harry into the depths of hell if Harry was determined to go.
In that moment he realized he could not make another mistake like he had tonight. The price had been too high to pay. He could not risk their lives again. He could not have anyone else's blood on his hands. Not when his hands were already stained with that of his parents and godfather.
He was fifteen years old when he rushed into the Ministry of Magic that night. He felt like he would never be fifteen again as he slowly pulled himself up to his feet. Albus had wished to spare him this knowledge because it was too much for a child to possibly carry on his own. Albus had been right of course. No child could carry it. However, he had stopped being a child the moment the last Marauder standing had to hold him back from following Sirius into the veil. He'd stopped being alone the day he met five friends willing to follow him into battle without a second thought.
He would not make this mistake again because he had to carry this, not just for himself, but for Neville, who was surely as cursed by this prophecy as Harry was. After all they were both the first born sons of those who thrice defied Voldemort. They had a legacy to live up too did they not?
Fandom: Harry Potter
Track: #1 Come In Closer
Artist: Blue October
Rating: PG
Word Count: 825
For the fear of our pain Our souls become useless As the day they were born'>
The first born, my heart will call Truly
A God-like boy of the sky
The fog hissed away like a movie
And serpents go home for the night
The thundercloud rain hits the freeway
The clowns put on makeup for show
The nightfall, my skin crawl kind of evening
And how the wind she blows
How the wind she blows
Harry walked slowly back to the Gryffindor dorms. His mind was reeling from everything that Albus had finally chosen to reveal to him. The prophecy. The blasted prophecy that had been the source of everything that had happened to him and his family. A stupid prophecy that could have meant someone else instead of him.
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives...."
It could have been Neville. Neville who charged in after him to help Harry save his godfather. Neville who had been willing to die than to have Harry hand over the prophecy. Neville who was forever forgetful and just a bit clumsy. Neville...who was recovering in the infirmary because Harry had refused to listen when Hermione warned him that it could have been a trap.
It should have been Neville.
Harry wasn't sure what made him feel that so passionately. Was it his guilt over making a mistake that cost Sirius his life? A mistake that put his friends and members of the order in the infirmary? A mistake that made Remus the last Marauder standing? Because he refused to view Peter as a Marauder. He'd betrayed them. He'd cost Harry his parents. All because of a prophecy.
"And you cost yourself and Remus, Sirius, because of a prophecy. Whose the traitor now, Harry?"
He paused in the hallway, nearly dropping to his knees, as he felt violently ill. He needed air. He could not breathe. He could not tell if that little voice in his head was his guilt, or if somehow Voldemort was still in his mind whispering in his ear. He was not a traitor though. He'd not betrayed them. Any of them. He just foolishly trusted his heart and instincts over his mind and the advice of the cleverest witch in his year. He'd been predictable and Voldemort used it against him. He may not have been a traitor, but the price was the same.
No, no he would not give in this easily. He would find a way to fix the mistake he made. He had too. Harry and Remus needed Sirius back. He'd...
His back scraped against the castle's wall as he slid down to sit with his knees drawn to his chest. Hot tears stung his eyes and marked his face. If he closed his eyes all he could see was that veil. All he could hear was Bellatrix's laughter.
"It wasn't even supposed to be me," he whispered mostly to himself as his shoulders shook with the sobs that seemed to hit him all at once. He couldn't go back to his dorms like this. Harry couldn't face his friends when he had been responsible for some of them being injured and nearly dying.
He couldn't let them see his defeat. His shame. His anger.
It wasn't supposed to be him. It should have been Neville. Why couldn't it have been Neville?
For a moment he was so angry that he could barely see through the tears. It wasn't fair, he thought viciously, why should I be the one to shoulder this just because of a stupid prophecy that some git got wrong. Then he felt shamed again as he thought about Neville in the infirmary. Neville whose parents were as good as gone as Lily and James Potter were. Yet he had no closure. He had to live with the constant reminder of what was so close, and yet so far away. Neville who would follow Harry into the depths of hell if Harry was determined to go.
In that moment he realized he could not make another mistake like he had tonight. The price had been too high to pay. He could not risk their lives again. He could not have anyone else's blood on his hands. Not when his hands were already stained with that of his parents and godfather.
He was fifteen years old when he rushed into the Ministry of Magic that night. He felt like he would never be fifteen again as he slowly pulled himself up to his feet. Albus had wished to spare him this knowledge because it was too much for a child to possibly carry on his own. Albus had been right of course. No child could carry it. However, he had stopped being a child the moment the last Marauder standing had to hold him back from following Sirius into the veil. He'd stopped being alone the day he met five friends willing to follow him into battle without a second thought.
He would not make this mistake again because he had to carry this, not just for himself, but for Neville, who was surely as cursed by this prophecy as Harry was. After all they were both the first born sons of those who thrice defied Voldemort. They had a legacy to live up too did they not?