Challenge entry: Absolution
Title: Absolution
Rating: PG13 for violence
Author: kali_sama
Artist: libra_lemon
Characters/Pairings: Harry, Draco. No pairings, but if you squint you might be able to see a possible hint of Harry/Hermione. If you really look for it.
Summary: Struggling to deal with Sirius' death, Harry finally snaps and attacks Malfoy.
Warnings: Violence, angst.
Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter and not pretending to.
Teaser pic:
Harry sighed, staring at the pages of his Potions book without seeing it. He could hear the people around him talking, moving, laughing, but it was all just background noise, unable to penetrate the thick fog enveloping his mind and senses. He was aware of Hermione talking to him, touching his arm lightly and repeating everything she said slowly and carefully in the hopes of getting through to him. He turned his head slightly to look at her, seeing the concern in her eyes but unable to fully comprehend that the concern was over him. He could see her lips moving, heard sound coming out, but the words faded away before he could understand them. Vaguely, he thought he should be worried about himself, that this state of being wasn’t even close to being normal, but he just couldn’t summon the will to care.
He was only three lessons in to the new school year and already he wanted to give up, to curl up into a tight little ball and just will the world away. He wondered if he could get away with that, if everyone would just let him go, and spent most of the lesson thinking about that, in the empty, detached way he thought about everything these days.
He only realised the lesson was over when Hermione tugged on his arm, pulling him to his feet and leading him out of the room. He followed mutely, letting her guide him through the crowds, aware only distantly of Ron’s presence at his other side, both of them shielding him, protecting him. He wondered why they did that-why did they spend so much time for him, care for him so much, when all he brought was trouble, and pain, and death?
“Potter! Hey, Potter!”
Harry stopped walking, aware of Hermione’s hand tightening on his arm, and turned to see Malfoy standing behind him, flanked by his two pet goons. Harry frowned a little, but couldn’t summon up any form of emotion, so he just turned and started walking again.
“What’s the matter, Potter? Feeling a little lonely since your precious godfather kicked the bucket?”
Harry stopped again, feeling a little spark of something in his mind. He right hand was clenched into a fist, and he could feel his muscles tensing.
“You know, it really was incredible stupid of you. I mean, anyone with half a brain would’ve spotted the trap or created a smarter plan. But not you, oh no, not you. You just charged right in there, so fucking stupid, and got that worthless piece of flesh killed. That’s three now, isn’t it? Mum, Dad, and dear old Sirius. Quite a track record you’ve got, Potter.”
Malfoy continued talking, baiting and taunting him, fueling that little spark of emotion inside him and turning it into a raging fire. He was aware that he was shaking and gritting his teeth, positively thrumming with the need for violence, but it was lost in the roar of the blood in his ears. The world was tinged with red, pure fury masking his vision, and it was a drastic change from the dull grey of before.
Harry was hardly aware of moving, couldn’t see anything through the thick haze of red anger, but then he was barreling into Malfoy, pushing him down to the ground, and his fist connected with the Slytherin’s jaw. Pain sparked to life in his knuckles, the flesh torn and bruised from the impact, and it just fueled the anger in him. Anger at Malfoy, anger at his own stupidity, anger at Sirius for dying and leaving him alone, anger at the whole fucking world. It had been bottled inside him for so long, corked like a fizzing bottle of pop, and now it was exploding to life, consuming him, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it, didn’t want to stop it.
Malfoy didn’t stand a chance in the face of his anger, could only make weak attempts to bat away Harry’s fists, and it wasn’t long before his face was covered in blood, his lips split open, his nose broken and oozing thick red liquid, his hair tangled and matted with blood and dust from the floor. And yet even when his face was a mask of pain and destruction, Harry didn’t stop, just kept slamming his fist into that ruined face again and again, not even thinking now, just operating on pure, primal rage.
Hermione was pulling at his arm, screaming his name over and over again, but he ignored her, focusing on the sharp pain in his knuckles, the bright smears of crimson blood, the dull sound of flesh hitting flesh.
“Harry! Stop!” Hermione tugged sharply on his arm and managed to pull him off Malfoy, jerking him back so violently that he fell on his arse. He blinked up at her, rational thought flooding back into his brain, followed by a cold wave of sick realisation. He looked down at the broken, bloody face of Malfoy and felt bile rise in his throat. Hermione pulled him to his feet and gave him a little push down the corridor.
“Go!” she ordered shrilly, staring at him with wide, frantic eyes. “I’ll take care of this, just go. Go!”
Harry nodded dumbly and stumbled backwards, turning away from the sight of Hermione pulling out her wand and kneeling next to Malfoy and muttering a memory charm. He ran blindly down the corridors, not caring where he ended up, just trying to escape the vision of Malfoy as he lay on the cold, stone floor, white blood hair tangled and matted with blood.
He stumbled to a halt in a dark, deserted corridor on the fifth floor and leant against the wall, breath burning in his throat. He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes and collapsed onto the floor, trying to stop the hot tears that threatened to escape him.
He gulped down huge lungfuls of air and tried to calm his pounding heart, but it was a futile effort. Malfoy’s taunts echoed in his ears, stirring up memories he’d rather stay dormant.
Red light arced across the room, splashing into Sirius’ chest and making his whole body freeze with shock, features frozen in a manic grin. He fell backwards slowly, his body moving as though the air was as thick as water. He had no sooner touched the tattered, black veil then it was consuming him, swallowing him whole, dragging him from sight.
Harry shook his head, trying to dislodge the ghastly visions clouding his mind and ran a trembling hand through his hair, tugging sharply and letting the sharp, stinging banish the memory from the forefront of his mind. Salty tears splashed onto his cheeks and he bowed his head, letting out a heavy sigh.
Sirius had been his everything, the last piece of family he had left. Sirius had always had time for him, always been willing to listen to him. So any times Sirius had made time for him, making then both some cocoa whilst he talked about his schooldays with Harry’s parents. He’d dug out his old photo album and spent hours showing Harry the pictures, explaining why James was missing his eyebrows or why Remus’ hair was red.
And now he was gone. The cocoa had been drunk, the photo album put away, and Sirius would never talk to him again. Harry was alone in the world, no family left. All he could do was smile a fake smile and watch as the people around him lived normal, happy lives with their families, whilst he stood on the sidelines, heavy with the knowledge that he had killed the only family he had left in the world. Sure, he might not have cast that fateful spell, but it had been his fault Sirius was there in the first place, his fault he’d been so stupid to fall for the trap, his fault that he was alone now.
Harry let out a fierce scream, bringing his hands down hard on the stone floor, so hard that he was sure he must’ve broken something, and felt the pain wash through his body, chasing away the sorrow and the guilt and the anger. He repeated the action, harder this time, until he couldn’t think of anything except the pain.
Running footsteps made him look up, scrubbing at his face in a desperate attempt to hide the evidence of his tears. Hermione and Ron were running towards him, looking flustered and concerned. Harry stood up to the meet them, using the wall for support because his legs weren’t quite steady.
“Are you alright?” Hermione asked breathlessly, running her eyes over his body. She grabbed his hand and examined his bloody knuckles for a moment, running her fingers tenderly over the bruised skin, before whipping out her wand and murmuring a healing spell.
“That bloody Malfoy!” Ron burst out suddenly. “Just when I thought he couldn’t sink any lower, he goes and pulls a stunt like this. Bloody rotten Slytherin scum. Don’t worry, mate, he deserved everything he got. Hell, I woulda done much worse if he’d done something like that to me. That stupid bloody arrogant git…”
Harry just nodded, staring at his freshly-healed hand. Now that the pain was gone, there was nothing to distract him from the anger and the guilt and the loneliness. It swelled up inside him like a rain cloud, heavy and thick and just about to burst.
Hermione touched his chin lightly, coaxing him to meet her eyes, and she smiled softly when he eventually did, brushing her fingers along his jaw.
“It wasn’t your fault, Harry,” she murmured. “No matter what Malfoy or anyone says, it wasn’t your fault. You did what you thought was right, and there’s no shame in that. Sirius didn’t have to come, he did it because he loved you. Don’t blame yourself any more, Harry.”
Harry stared at her helplessly, feeling tears well up again, and he tried so hard to fight it, to fight the wave of emotion that threatened to drag him under, and he almost won, until Hermione pulled him into a tight embrace. With her arms around him, her warm body pressed tight against hers, Harry lost the fight and let the cloud of emotions inside him burst, clinging to her and sobbing into her shoulder and muttering nonsense words about pain and guilt. And through it all, Hermione kept murmuring softly to him, repeating that it wasn’t his fault, that he wasn’t to blame, giving him absolution.
Rating: PG13 for violence
Author: kali_sama
Artist: libra_lemon
Characters/Pairings: Harry, Draco. No pairings, but if you squint you might be able to see a possible hint of Harry/Hermione. If you really look for it.
Summary: Struggling to deal with Sirius' death, Harry finally snaps and attacks Malfoy.
Warnings: Violence, angst.
Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter and not pretending to.
Teaser pic:
Harry sighed, staring at the pages of his Potions book without seeing it. He could hear the people around him talking, moving, laughing, but it was all just background noise, unable to penetrate the thick fog enveloping his mind and senses. He was aware of Hermione talking to him, touching his arm lightly and repeating everything she said slowly and carefully in the hopes of getting through to him. He turned his head slightly to look at her, seeing the concern in her eyes but unable to fully comprehend that the concern was over him. He could see her lips moving, heard sound coming out, but the words faded away before he could understand them. Vaguely, he thought he should be worried about himself, that this state of being wasn’t even close to being normal, but he just couldn’t summon the will to care.
He was only three lessons in to the new school year and already he wanted to give up, to curl up into a tight little ball and just will the world away. He wondered if he could get away with that, if everyone would just let him go, and spent most of the lesson thinking about that, in the empty, detached way he thought about everything these days.
He only realised the lesson was over when Hermione tugged on his arm, pulling him to his feet and leading him out of the room. He followed mutely, letting her guide him through the crowds, aware only distantly of Ron’s presence at his other side, both of them shielding him, protecting him. He wondered why they did that-why did they spend so much time for him, care for him so much, when all he brought was trouble, and pain, and death?
“Potter! Hey, Potter!”
Harry stopped walking, aware of Hermione’s hand tightening on his arm, and turned to see Malfoy standing behind him, flanked by his two pet goons. Harry frowned a little, but couldn’t summon up any form of emotion, so he just turned and started walking again.
“What’s the matter, Potter? Feeling a little lonely since your precious godfather kicked the bucket?”
Harry stopped again, feeling a little spark of something in his mind. He right hand was clenched into a fist, and he could feel his muscles tensing.
“You know, it really was incredible stupid of you. I mean, anyone with half a brain would’ve spotted the trap or created a smarter plan. But not you, oh no, not you. You just charged right in there, so fucking stupid, and got that worthless piece of flesh killed. That’s three now, isn’t it? Mum, Dad, and dear old Sirius. Quite a track record you’ve got, Potter.”
Malfoy continued talking, baiting and taunting him, fueling that little spark of emotion inside him and turning it into a raging fire. He was aware that he was shaking and gritting his teeth, positively thrumming with the need for violence, but it was lost in the roar of the blood in his ears. The world was tinged with red, pure fury masking his vision, and it was a drastic change from the dull grey of before.
Harry was hardly aware of moving, couldn’t see anything through the thick haze of red anger, but then he was barreling into Malfoy, pushing him down to the ground, and his fist connected with the Slytherin’s jaw. Pain sparked to life in his knuckles, the flesh torn and bruised from the impact, and it just fueled the anger in him. Anger at Malfoy, anger at his own stupidity, anger at Sirius for dying and leaving him alone, anger at the whole fucking world. It had been bottled inside him for so long, corked like a fizzing bottle of pop, and now it was exploding to life, consuming him, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it, didn’t want to stop it.
Malfoy didn’t stand a chance in the face of his anger, could only make weak attempts to bat away Harry’s fists, and it wasn’t long before his face was covered in blood, his lips split open, his nose broken and oozing thick red liquid, his hair tangled and matted with blood and dust from the floor. And yet even when his face was a mask of pain and destruction, Harry didn’t stop, just kept slamming his fist into that ruined face again and again, not even thinking now, just operating on pure, primal rage.
Hermione was pulling at his arm, screaming his name over and over again, but he ignored her, focusing on the sharp pain in his knuckles, the bright smears of crimson blood, the dull sound of flesh hitting flesh.
“Harry! Stop!” Hermione tugged sharply on his arm and managed to pull him off Malfoy, jerking him back so violently that he fell on his arse. He blinked up at her, rational thought flooding back into his brain, followed by a cold wave of sick realisation. He looked down at the broken, bloody face of Malfoy and felt bile rise in his throat. Hermione pulled him to his feet and gave him a little push down the corridor.
“Go!” she ordered shrilly, staring at him with wide, frantic eyes. “I’ll take care of this, just go. Go!”
Harry nodded dumbly and stumbled backwards, turning away from the sight of Hermione pulling out her wand and kneeling next to Malfoy and muttering a memory charm. He ran blindly down the corridors, not caring where he ended up, just trying to escape the vision of Malfoy as he lay on the cold, stone floor, white blood hair tangled and matted with blood.
He stumbled to a halt in a dark, deserted corridor on the fifth floor and leant against the wall, breath burning in his throat. He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes and collapsed onto the floor, trying to stop the hot tears that threatened to escape him.
He gulped down huge lungfuls of air and tried to calm his pounding heart, but it was a futile effort. Malfoy’s taunts echoed in his ears, stirring up memories he’d rather stay dormant.
Red light arced across the room, splashing into Sirius’ chest and making his whole body freeze with shock, features frozen in a manic grin. He fell backwards slowly, his body moving as though the air was as thick as water. He had no sooner touched the tattered, black veil then it was consuming him, swallowing him whole, dragging him from sight.
Harry shook his head, trying to dislodge the ghastly visions clouding his mind and ran a trembling hand through his hair, tugging sharply and letting the sharp, stinging banish the memory from the forefront of his mind. Salty tears splashed onto his cheeks and he bowed his head, letting out a heavy sigh.
Sirius had been his everything, the last piece of family he had left. Sirius had always had time for him, always been willing to listen to him. So any times Sirius had made time for him, making then both some cocoa whilst he talked about his schooldays with Harry’s parents. He’d dug out his old photo album and spent hours showing Harry the pictures, explaining why James was missing his eyebrows or why Remus’ hair was red.
And now he was gone. The cocoa had been drunk, the photo album put away, and Sirius would never talk to him again. Harry was alone in the world, no family left. All he could do was smile a fake smile and watch as the people around him lived normal, happy lives with their families, whilst he stood on the sidelines, heavy with the knowledge that he had killed the only family he had left in the world. Sure, he might not have cast that fateful spell, but it had been his fault Sirius was there in the first place, his fault he’d been so stupid to fall for the trap, his fault that he was alone now.
Harry let out a fierce scream, bringing his hands down hard on the stone floor, so hard that he was sure he must’ve broken something, and felt the pain wash through his body, chasing away the sorrow and the guilt and the anger. He repeated the action, harder this time, until he couldn’t think of anything except the pain.
Running footsteps made him look up, scrubbing at his face in a desperate attempt to hide the evidence of his tears. Hermione and Ron were running towards him, looking flustered and concerned. Harry stood up to the meet them, using the wall for support because his legs weren’t quite steady.
“Are you alright?” Hermione asked breathlessly, running her eyes over his body. She grabbed his hand and examined his bloody knuckles for a moment, running her fingers tenderly over the bruised skin, before whipping out her wand and murmuring a healing spell.
“That bloody Malfoy!” Ron burst out suddenly. “Just when I thought he couldn’t sink any lower, he goes and pulls a stunt like this. Bloody rotten Slytherin scum. Don’t worry, mate, he deserved everything he got. Hell, I woulda done much worse if he’d done something like that to me. That stupid bloody arrogant git…”
Harry just nodded, staring at his freshly-healed hand. Now that the pain was gone, there was nothing to distract him from the anger and the guilt and the loneliness. It swelled up inside him like a rain cloud, heavy and thick and just about to burst.
Hermione touched his chin lightly, coaxing him to meet her eyes, and she smiled softly when he eventually did, brushing her fingers along his jaw.
“It wasn’t your fault, Harry,” she murmured. “No matter what Malfoy or anyone says, it wasn’t your fault. You did what you thought was right, and there’s no shame in that. Sirius didn’t have to come, he did it because he loved you. Don’t blame yourself any more, Harry.”
Harry stared at her helplessly, feeling tears well up again, and he tried so hard to fight it, to fight the wave of emotion that threatened to drag him under, and he almost won, until Hermione pulled him into a tight embrace. With her arms around him, her warm body pressed tight against hers, Harry lost the fight and let the cloud of emotions inside him burst, clinging to her and sobbing into her shoulder and muttering nonsense words about pain and guilt. And through it all, Hermione kept murmuring softly to him, repeating that it wasn’t his fault, that he wasn’t to blame, giving him absolution.