Torn at the Seams

Torn at the seams

'Ah, so loyal and, so brave, just like the rest of your family, Potter. Pity they were as stupid as you.' he replied less than a foot away from Harry. 'Are you going to take a leaf out of their books? I tell you once more - join me or die.'

'I will never join you!' the young boy cried. He glanced on the floor beside him. His best friend, Ronald Weasley, lay still, pretending to be dead. He looked up to Harry and smiled at him. Suddenly Harry didn't seem to feel so weak, all apart from the splitting pain coming from the lightening bolt scar that the person standing in front of him had left him over 14 years ago.

The man tutted, 'I offered you the chance, Harry. You know, you could be powerful, very powerful. Remember what I told you in your first year? 'There is no good or evil, but only power and those who are too weak to seek it'...' The man's voice made the hairs on the back of his neck stand. He looked around the section of the forest. He remembered it slightly, from his second year at Hogwarts. Harry was barely one hundred metres from Aragog and his family. This scared Harry even more.

'Goodbye Harry. Your life will end, like so many before you...' The man said in a mere whisper, 'Avada Kedavra!' But, however, before the curse hit Harry, he had been knocked to the ground in a blur. The young boy focused his eyes, and there was a sudden green flash and two loud, ear-splitting screams.

'RON!' Harry shouted. He had knocked Harry out of the way and taken the blast of the curse himself. Harry crawled towards his best friend, lying on the floor in a rather uncomfortable position. He reached his friend and looked up and around for any immediate danger. Then he realised the pain from his forehead was slowly decreasing. 'Voldemort!' he thought 'he's disappeared again...' He didn't care at this moment though, because his best friend, no, brother was laying, dead, on the ground. The black haired boy put his hands on Ron's shoulders and shook them gently.

'Ron, wake up... Please, wake up... Stop being an idiot and wake up!!' Harry screamed. His heart felt as if it had torn in two. 'Wake up! Please wake up!' However, the red headed boy didn't wake up. Harry collapsed next to his friend. He did not cry, but only stayed by the body of his best friend...

The world spun and Harry shot up in his bed, covered in sweat and shaking. He reached over to his bedside table and reached for his glasses. After placing them on his face, he walked over to the water jug and goblet and quickly drained the goblet. He looked over at the bed opposite him. Empty. It was just a memory of who used to occupy it. He quickly looked away. He couldn't bare it any more. He quietly pulled the duvet off his four-poster bed and walked down to the Common room. Curling up on a sofa by the fire, He pulled the duvet over him and quickly looked at his watch.

'Three o'clock... lovely,' he said to himself as he took off his glasses, which were filled with a mixture of tears and sweat. He wiped his eyes. He hadn't cried for over 10 years. Even though he remembered it like yesterday...

'And today, mummy, I learnt the alphabet! And lookie! I painted a picture of us!' the little dark haired boy said, and he placed the picture on the floor carefully. Suddenly his cupboard was opened fiercely and in the doorway stood the little boy's uncle, who was extremely red.

'Who were you talking to, boy?' Uncle Vernon asked, scowling.

'My Mummy, Uncle Vernon!' the little boy said happily, with a smile on his face. The larger man took the child by the arm and pulled him out of the cupboard. The little boy was so small and skinny, he was sure the bigger man would crack one of his bones if he held his arm any tighter.

'YOUR MOTHER ISN'T ALIVE BOY! HOW CAN YOU TALK TO HER?' he boomed, angrier than ever.

'Easy!' replied the younger Harry. 'I talk to her spirit! I show her and Daddy what I do at pre-school and what I learnt and stuff!' he continued. He was so proud of himself, but yet, his Uncle's scowl worsened.

'BOY, THAT'S THE STUPIDEST THING IVE EVER HEARD! YOUR MOTHER AND FATHER ARE DEAD! THEY DIED IN A CARCRASH! AND THEY DO NOT HAVE SPIRITS!' Vernon yelled, and then started to beat the small boy numerous times before throwing him back in his cupboard.

'No meals for a week!' Vernon said and slammed the cupboard door. Harry began to weep. Soon the weeping turned to large sobs, and then streams of tears. That night the little boy told himself that he would never talk to his mum and dad again. That and that he would never cry again...

Harry wiped away the tears that blurred his eyes and he sighed. Lord, how he missed Ron. It was his fault Ron died. If he hadn't allowed Ron to go with him to face Voldemort, he would still be alive today. There was a sudden movement at the bottom of the stairs and a small, red headed figure, wrapped in a pink dressing gown had come down from the dormitories.

'Harry?' the small voice asked. The figure walked towards the sofa where Harry lay. 'Harry?' she repeated again.

Harry looked up a little and smiled. 'Hullo, Ginny,' Harry croaked. 'You're up late... Early I should say.'

'I heard you come down here... I couldn't sleep anyway, so I thought I would come down.' Ginny replied quietly, kneeling by the sofa where Harry lay, facing the roaring fire. Ginny couldn't help but notice how depressed he looked. But no one could blame him. Not since Ron's death. Harry sat up.

'Come sit up here, Gin. The floor's cold.' Harry said, smiling. Ginny slowly got up and sat in the seat with Harry. He put the blanket over the two of them and lay back a little.

'Harry, are you ok? This is the third time this week you have been up earlier than three. And it's only Wednesday! I'm worried about you, Harry!" Ginny said, softly. She looked into his eyes, and didn't see the Harry she was used to. His brilliant emerald green eyes, which normally sparked with excitement, seemed dull and tired of life. There were dark lines around his eyes, indicating he hadn't slept in days. He rubbed his eyes, which ached from tiredness. 'Harry, talk to me,' She said again. Harry looked into her eyes and sighed.

'Ginny, it's been nearly a month. Each of those days I have been feeling even more and more guilty about Ron's death. It haunts me, through nightmares, pictures. Even just looking at his bed when I wake up or fall asleep kills me. He shouldn't have died. It should have been me Gin.' Harry explained. Ginny looked up to him.

'It wasn't your fault Harry. Ron did that for a reason. He saved a fellow Wizard. He saved another human being. And on top of that, he saved you. He knew that if you were to die, You-Know-Who would come back in full power and be even more powerful than he once was. He knew that it was your destiny to finally rid the world of that form of evil once and for all. And he knew if he didn't do something, that wouldn't happen.' Ginny said to him. Her eyes were blurry. She wiped them with the back of her hand and continued. 'I miss Ron. We all miss Ron. And as stupid as his intentions were, he actually helped the world. He's a hero, Harry. You were there at the funeral. You heard what Professor Dumbledore said. "There will be no other, so heroic, quite like Mr Weasley."' Harry wiped away another tear and sniffed.

'That still doesn't fix the fact he's not here... That he's never going to be here again... He was the best thing that happened to me, and now he's gone. He was the first person who ever showed me what it felt like to be loved. He was a brother to me. I basically killed my own brother...' Harry croaked and turned into a wreck of tears again. Ginny looked at him and hugged him. He placed his head on her shoulder and accepted the hug. He looked into her eyes, but couldn't bring himself to look into them again. Instead he leant against Ginny and let her cradle him. Soon a wave of exhaustion came over him and he closed his eyes, drifting off into a completely dreamless sleep.

*

Ginny didn't sleep that night. She stayed up, cradling who was once her brother's best friend. In a way he still was. It wasn't until about 7 am where there was the first sign of movement in the Gryffindor common room. Being the Christmas Holidays, there were not many people left at Hogwarts, but both Ginny and Hermione had decided to stay for Harry.

Hermione walked down the staircase from the girl's dormitories, yawning and carrying Crookshanks under one arm. She let him go at the bottom of the stairs, and walked over to the couch. She raised an eyebrow slightly at Ginny who laughed slightly.

'Morning Hermione,' Ginny said, as she tried to stifle a yawn. She glanced down at Harry, who lay, comfortably in her lap. Hermione sat on the floor in front of the couch and looked up at them both.

'Hey, I think you did well,' Hermione complimented. 'This has to be the first time he's slept for more than an hour for a month.' Ginny smiled and looked down at Harry, whose black hair was tangled from the tossing and turning caused by the unpleasant nightmare. He had tearstains from all the crying he had done the night before. Hermione noticed how much older Harry looked, yet he looked so defenceless.

'Ginny, would u like anything from the kitchens? I don't think Harry will be waking any time soon, so I'll go get us some.' Hermione said almost soundlessly, making sure not to wake up Harry.

'If you don't mind... Just get anything,' she replied, still stroking Harry's hair. Harry started to stir, so Hermione quietly crept from the common room, leaving Ginny and Harry alone in the silence. Ginny looked over at the fire. She thought about her four years at Hogwarts, the time in her first year at Hogwarts in the chamber, and the Sirius ordeal in her second. But however, as scary as those years were, nothing related to this year. Her brother's death had sent waves of turmoil over the entire school. Like Dumbledore had said in their previous year, Voldemort had risen, however not many believed him. They chose not to. Both grief and fear spread over the school, faster than wildfire.

'Who will he come for next?'

'Are we safe?'

'We're all going to die!!'

The students of Hogwarts figured that the worst was coming. Many parents and families did not want their children going back to Hogwarts, even if Professor Dumbledore was, and is, the only person that Lord Voldemort ever feared. Harry never told anyone the whole story, no one except Hermione and Ginny; he didn't trust anyone else.

Harry started to stir again. Ginny continued to stroke his hair, like a mother would if he were sick. 'Lord,' Ginny thought, 'He's having another nightmare...' He started to shake violently and sweat, then shot forward, and sobbed. Ginny pulled him closer and held him until he calmed down.

'Ginny...' he said, still shaking. He was so white and pale. He looked as if he had been to hell and back in the small amount of time he was sleeping on Ginny's lap. Ginny didn't reply, just held him close until he soon again fell asleep.