Wish You Were Here

Wish You Were Here

Harry Potter looked out of the window of the boys dormitory, across the wide expansion of green fields to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. It was a beautiful day, but also, he knew, would be one of terror and pain. He had already lost so much, how much more would he have to lose before it would all stop? Glancing down in front of the castle, he noticed deep trenches that had been dug by Richard's troops, and they were rapidly filling with men and supplies. Every dozen yards or so, there was a bunker with a minigun nest within. He could just make out the tips of the six barrels protruding through the lips of the bunkers. Up on the castle walls were artillery cannons and heavier caliper weapons. There were also archers from the Ministry of Magic, which Fudge had insisted would fight. Richard had welcomed the archers with open arms, and encouraged his troops to be as friendly as possible.

Looking once again to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, Harry imagined what it would be like when the first waves of enemies came plowing through the trees, a murderous rage within their minds. He had no idea what kind of fighters Voldemort would send at them, but he could tell that none of them would be very nice creatures. Werewolves, giants, vampires, ghouls, hags, even murderers and criminals from jails and prison cells. Harry heard a rumble and looked up towards the roof. Creeping through the sky was a dark and forbidding rain cloud that promised lots of rain, thunder, and lightning. In just a few seconds, it had blocked out the sun, and was quickly engulfing the rest of the blue sky.

So, so you think you can tell
Heaven from Hell,
Blue skies from pain.
Can you tell a green field
From a cold steel rail?

He was the only one in the room; everyone else had left earlier to prepare themselves for the first wave of attacks. In a way, Harry was preparing himself as well. Both mentally and physically, clearing his mind and dressing in the battle gear that had been given to him by Richard. He pulled on the ten inch leather boots that weren't much different than his Quidditch boots. It was the final piece of his uniform. Tying the last knot at the top, he walked over to the full-length mirror on the far wall next to his bed. Looking himself over in the mirror, his eyes met his own green ones, and he paused. His one thought was how proud Sirius would be if he saw him now, dressed and ready to defend his community and everything that he stood for. He imagined Sirius's face smiling at him from behind the veil in which he had fallen through.

A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?

Harry looked away from the mirror and walked back over to the window. He stared out at the darkening twilight. A flash of lightning lit up the field before him, and he thought he saw dark shapes at the edge of the forest. He stared harder and waited anxiously for the next flash of lightning. He didn't need lightning though to tell him that something was wrong. As he watched, a fire started deep within the forest and huge plums of smoke began to rise from the quickly spreading flames.

Suddenly, there was a loud blast of a horn from overhead in the upper towers of the castle. Harry recognized the sound instantly. So, he though, even the spotter knows something's wrong. No sooner had he thought this, then there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," he answered, facing it. A soldier came in, one Harry had not met before.

"Mr. Potter, Albus Dumbledore requests your audience in the War Room."

"Thank you, I'll be right there."

The soldier nodded, and left. Harry thought for a moment, then made his way down to the Gryffindor Common Room. It was abandoned, dark, and quiet. Silent ashes from last night's fire sat gray and forbidding within the pit. The only light came from a single burning candle sitting on the table, bouncing eerie shadows off the wall. Harry sat in his favorite sofa and pulled a spare piece of parchment from somebody's forgotten stack of papers sitting on the table, along with a first year's study book on Potions. There was also a quill in an open bottle of ink, which he picked up, and began to write.

Not long ago, Harry had started a journal on his exploits of the war, his life, and how it progressed. He felt he needed it in these stressful times. He got the idea from Hermione, who told him that it was a great way to relieve stress. He considered this the next page in a long line of pages that he had written all year long.

He wrote how he felt, and how he missed Ginny. He wrote about the pick of people who were under his command, what their strengths were and how he planned to use them in the upcoming battles. Richard at first had refused to let Harry have any part of this war, and just wanted him to stay in the castle and stay safe. Harry knew his intentions were good, but he'd be damn if he was just going to sit inside and do nothing. He told Richard this, and after much argument, Richard had grudgingly accepted, but had assigned Harry a troop of warriors to be placed under his command. This had also been met with much displeasure and hostility from the teachers and Ministry officials. Harry had also voiced against having muggles under his command. It wasn't that he had any discriminations against them, but rather the fact that he did not know any of them. Instead, he had picked people who he was familiar with and who he could trust in the heat of battle. Those choices included many of his friends, but also, to everyone's surprise, a few ghosts. Richard had tried to trade Harry a few of his own elite guard soldiers for the ghosts, but Harry also refused this offer. He explained that ghosts could do many things that humans could not. Richard accepted this without argument.

And did they get you to trade
Your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
And did you exchange
A walk on part in the war
For a lead role in a cage?

Ten minutes later, he was walking down the third floor hallway, and stopped just before the War Room door. He knocked, and it was met with an "enter."

Walking in, he noticed that the room was packed to capacity with aids, Ministry officials, military leaders, and war lords. Prominent among them were Richard's generals and military leaders. Richard himself was seated at the head of the rectangle-shaped table, looking like he hadn't slept in days, which he probably hadn't. He nodded to Harry as he entered, and so did the rest of the people in the room.

" I called for you half an hour ago," said Dumbledore, addressing him sternly. "And by now, if you don't already know, half of the Forbidden Forest is a raging inferno."

It was then that Harry noticed a reddish-orange glow illuminating the covered window at the right hand side of the room. He walked to it, moved the curtain, and peered out.

Dumbledore was right. Nearly the entire forest was aglow with flame. The fire hadn't yet reached the closest edge of the forest, where the forest met green grass and field, but it was quickly getting there.

"I saw a fire earlier, but I guess I thought the rain would put it out," said Harry.

Dumbledore sighed. "Yes, so did I, but it would seem it is not raining that hard. Only a sprinkle."

Harry returned his gaze out the window. "But it doesn't make any sense," he said. "Why would they destroy their only source of protection and cover?"

This time, Richard spoke up. "There are a couple of reasons that we have come up with. One," he said, counting off on his fingers, "they are trying to smoke us out and or put a wall of smoke between us and them so that they can cross the field without being seen. Or two, they are using this as a diversion for something else."

Harry thought for a moment. "I would say that they are doing the latter, but knowing Voldemort, it could be anything."

"That is exactly the reason why I have called you so early. We need you to move now," said Dumbledore. "I know that we were going to wait till later tonight, but with this new problem, I fear to wait any longer."

Harry frowned. "But what about the castle..." he started.

Richard forestalled his outburst with a raised hand. "Don't worry about any of that. That's why I am here with two thousand soldiers. Your job is to worry about yourself and the task ahead of you."

"But....ah Christ...." Harry buried his face in his hands.

"Harry, sit down." Richard demanded.

Harry slumped into a chair next to Richard. "I'm not ready...dammit, this isn't right!"

"Harry, listen to me," said Sierra, who had been standing just behind Richard. She knelt down beside Harry and cupped his chin in her fingers, raising his face to hers. "Harry, I know you're scared. Everyone in this room is. I know that you have lost so much Harry. Your friends, family, and almost everything that you stand for. But now is the time to avenge them Harry. Reclaim the Wizard World for the good, and steal it from the evil. This is what you've been practicing for and training for for the entire year now, Harry. I believe in you, and so do the rest of us. We trust you to get the job done. Now it's your turn to do it."

Harry gazed into her eyes, and she wiped away a single tear that rolled down his cheek. Then he leaned forward and planted a kiss on her cheek and stood up suddenly. Steeling himself, he looked to Dumbledore.

"What now?" he asked.

"Madam Pomphrey and Professor Snape are waiting with the potions that will help you this night. Listen carefully to their instructions, and you will do fine. I promise."

With a nod, Harry turned to Sierra and gazed at her for a second. "Have I ever told you just how much you look like Ginny?" he asked her, while reaching inside his coat. He withdrew a piece of parchment and brought her hand up in his.

"If something should happen to me, will you give this to Ginny?" he asked.

Sierra took it gingerly, paused for a moment, then nodded.

"Thank you," he said. With that, he cast a final look around the room, meeting everyone's eyes, nodded once, turned, and walked briskly out the door to meet his fate.

The room was silent for a moment. Then, with a sigh, Richard called things to order and began outlining plans and tactics.

But Sierra was not listening. Instead, she sat staring down at the letter Harry had just given her. She sensed someone watching her and looked up. Dumbledore met her gaze, gave a small smile and a nod.

She quietly opened the letter from the envelope, and began to read.

Dearest Ginny,

If you are reading this letter, it means that I am no longer with you. I pray for your safe keeping through the journey that you are undertaking, and I want you to know that no matter what happens, I have always, and will always, love you. With all my mind, body, and soul. I may be gone, but wherever I am going, know that you are always in my heart.

It seems like only yesterday when we first met. I remember how your cheeks blushed, and made those cute freckles that I love so much stand out. I remember the fluttering of butterflies within the pit of my stomach as your beautiful eyes gazed into mine. It was truly a wonderful moment, and one that I will never forget.

Right now, you are probably crying, and it is my fault. I was not there to see you off on your journey, even though I knew where you were headed and what might happen. I was torn. I was too caught up in the upcoming battle, and it made me forget what truly mattered: you.

In the times since, I had come to realize just how much I missed you. You were my strength throughout the whole ordeal, and my biggest failure was not letting you help me. I was scared, so scared. I was terrified of the thought of losing you, while at the same time, terrified of the upcoming battle and how many people would die. Would we even win or not?

If you are reading this though, then it brings me great comfort to know that we probably did win the war. I pray that you are well. But I also pray for your happiness, because I am sure right now that you are asking how you could ever be happy again. Do not ponder that question, because if it is one thing that you always taught me, it's that pain and grief heal with time. If you are hurt right now, please do one thing for me: move on with your life. I want you to be happy, and I want you to bathe in the love of others around you. They are good people, who love and cherish you, even if you don't always get along with them.

One last thing I must admit to you: what I wish I could have done if I had seen you off. I would hold you close to me, and shelter out everything else as if none of it mattered at all. I would kiss you deeply and hold that moment forever. If I could make time stop at any moment of my life, that is the moment I would choose.

While writing this, I got so mad at Dumbledore, Voldemort, Richard, and the teachers for deciding our fates for us. Why? Why can't I hold you one last time within my arms, grow old with you, and love you till the end of time. I never asked for this damn war in the first place. All I ever wanted was to be normal, carefree, and happy. I must be in Hell, I guess.

But no, that cannot be true, because Hell would have been never knowing you at all. I cannot imagine what that would have been like. Even a life time living with the Dursleys would have been nothing compared to the thought of not having met you. Not having fallen in love with you.

After I wrote this and read it over, I realized something. I realized that fate has nothing to do with people manipulating things to their own means, nor hateful people trying to control the world through violence and terror. Fate cannot be controlled by any one person or being, no matter how powerful they are. Fate just...is, I guess. Even I haven't quite figured it out yet. But I do know this for sure: it was fate that brought us together. Fate that made me fall dearly in love with you. It was not controlled by me or anything else. It just came like the wind. If you can't control the movement of the stars, or which way the wind blows, then you cannot control fate.

I am so sorry that you have to read this, my love. Even writing this cannot even come close to expressing the love and emotions that I feel for you, no matter what happens. Always know that whatever happens, I will always be watching over you, whatever the afterlife shall hold for me. Even writing this fills my heart with loneliness. But thinking of your beautiful face within my hands, all of my worries leave my soul in an instant. I love you so much, and I hope you know that. I am sorry for the grief that I have caused you. I guess my death was a part of this fate.

I have to go now. I will miss you, but it brings me great comfort to know that you are safe and in good hands with those around you. I welcome the time when we will finally be together again. Just think of it: two lost souls together at last. Do not cry anymore. Save those tears for the joyous moments when I may wipe them from your cheeks once again.

All my love to you, wish you were here.

-Harry Potter

Sierra finished the letter, and refolded it carefully, placing it back within the envelope. Standing up, she made her way to the window.

"Everything alright, General?" Richard asked.

"Yes, just looking at the fire," Sierra replied.

She was happy her back was to the crowded room, so that no-one could see the tears that flowed freely down her face.

How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls
Swimming in a fish bowl,
Year after year,
Running over the same old ground.
What have we found?
The same old fears.
Wish you were here.