In Harmony : A Second Chance

Death, An old friend...

Chapter 1
Death, An old friend...
3728 Words

"I've got to go back, haven't I?"
"That is up to you."
 "I've got a choice?"
 "Oh yes." Dumbledore smiled at him.

"We are in King's Cross, you say? I think that if you decided not to go back, you would be able to . . . let's say . . . board a train."
"And where would it take me?"
"On," said Dumbledore simply.
Silence again.

"Voldemort's got the Elder Wand."
"True. Voldemort has the Elder Wand."
"But you want me to go back?"
"I think," said Dumbledore, "that if you choose to return, there is a chance that he may be finished for good. I cannot promise it. But I know this, Harry, that you have less to fear from returning here than he does."

 Harry glanced again at the raw-looking thing that trembled and choked in the shadow beneath the distant chair."Do not pity the dead, Harry. Pity the living, and above all, those who live without love. By returning, you may ensure that fewer souls are maimed, and fewer families are torn apart. If that seems to you a worthy goal, then we say goodbye for the present."

Harry nodded and sighed. Leaving this place would not be nearly as hard as walking into the forest had been, but it was warm and light and peaceful here, and he knew that he was heading back to pain and the fear of more loss. He stood up, and Dumbledore did the same, and they looked for a long moment into each other's faces. 

"Tell me one last thing," said Harry. "Is this real? Or has this been happening inside my head?"Dumbledore beamed at him, and his voice sounded loud and strong in Harry's ears even though the bright white mist was descending again, obscuring his figure.
"Of course, it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?"

As Dumbledore disappeared, Harry stood there, staring. He could go back. He had a chance. A choice. But did he want to? That was the question. All his life, he had been fighting, whether it was the Dursleys or Draco Malfoy, Voldemort, or one of Voldemort's cronies. What did he have to live for? 

His friends surely could move on without him, he wouldn't be there anymore, constantly putting their lives in danger due to his presence. The thought that they could move on after his death pained him, but everyone will move on, that was life.

His loved ones? How many were even left, people had died trying to protect him, if he weren't there, maybe they wouldn't do anything so reckless. The images of Fred, Lupin, and Tonks lying dead in the Great Hall forced their way back into his mind's eye.

Colin Creevey, Harry wanted to smile at the thought of him, the boy seemed to think Harry was some kind of miracle. How was he supposed to tell the young boy that he was not? How could he tell him that he was the reason so many people were dying? The sweet boy had given his life trying to fight alongside Harry till the end.

Fred Weasley was dead, nothing would be the same without him. Harry had almost always seen Fred and George as the same person, they loved each other unconditionally. They were, for a while, two of the only people who helped him stay sane. Their stupid jokes, puns and funny pranks, they now haunted Harry, the times when laughter poured out so effortlessly now only seemed like some unachievable dream, some faraway hope. George would be broken without his twin. Because of Harry.

Tonks, the funny but brave auror who had fallen in love with Remus. The 'Don't call me Nymphadora' Tonks, she had been so brave, so kind. Both of them had given up their life in this battle, just after they had their son. They knew they could live if they gave Harry up, they could somehow run away with their son, but they didn't. They fought against Voldemort.

His mind went to Teddy, little Teddy Lupin, his godson. He wouldn't be able to take care of him the way Remus wanted him to anymore. Harry was the reason, little Teddy would grow up without ever knowing either of his parents. And if he made the choice to move on now he wouldn't be able to see the baby grow up or tell him any stories of how strong, brave and kind his parents were. But maybe he didn't need to worry.