Head of Hogwarts

*Chapter 5*

This place... a structure built with cherished memories. Hagrid's cabin. Some of the wooden panels, I noticed when we arrived, were still charred from the Battle of Hogwarts. He had had no time to replace them, time had selfishly been taken from him... Pain began to tear at my chest. This house, this home, it had always been a safe refuge for me. When the world was shattering around me and everyone expected everything of me: 'The Chosen One', 'The Greatest Wizard of All Time', 'The Boy Who Lived'... I was here, with Hagrid, eating rock-hard rock cakes and slurping at giant, chipped mugs of tea. Now it was nothing. A monochrome shack in a monochrome forest, void of life and joy.

Rain battered the water-logged earth, and thunder cried out in mourning. I wiped tears from my face while pretending to wipe the bombardment of rain drops from my glasses. Hagrid was really gone. The feeling nestled into my stomach and began to eat me alive. I was becoming the host of this pain; it refused to leave my broken self. The torment seemed to radiate off me, dragging everyone to heartbreak and sobs. This was all because of me. I should've kept in contact with him, why did I not think it was a bad idea to leave him in a broken home? What was I thinking? Was I thinking? I could have at least written to him once...

It took fifteen burly wizards to deliver and lower his coffin into the pumpkin patch. Hagrid would have liked to be buried there, amongst his work, at home, around the comforts he had built himself when he was stripped of his magic and his pride. Both Madame Maxime and Fang howled at the thud of the casket. My shaking hands combed the sopping wet fur of Fang's back. I couldn't help; I offered as much comfort as I could. It didn't help. When did I ever help in these situations? I was always the cause of them anyway...

The Weasley family aided the torn Madame Maxime back to the cabin, soon followed by the rest of the guests. An emotionless conga line of loved-ones. I lovingly tugged at the handful of fur plastering to my hand. He wouldn't move. He would never betray his master like that. He would rather die than leave Hagrid to this terrible storm. I think he knew really, and just didn't want to accept it. He wasn't the only one.

"Fang..." My voice was a whirlwind of tones, all the emotions dribbling out at once, "he's gone, I'm sorry, there's nothing you or I can do. Just please, go inside, you'll get ill if you stay out here too long."

This was ironic coming from me, as I stood with my suit clinging to me, as if it were another layer of skin. I was a wreck. My ears drowned out the chitter-chatter of the guests within the cabin; all I wanted to hear was the rain, I wanted to remove the life around me and accept the isolation. My eyes spaced out into the streams running down the lenses of my glasses. My mouth was full of ashes, burnt out words that meant nothing, not even to myself. What did it matter that my body was failing me? What did it matter if I died here, right this second? I could join them then: Hagrid, Sirius, Dumbledore, Snape, Fred, Lupin, Tonks... All of those brilliant wizards and witches who died for me... FOR ME. It was all my fault. If I had just died when Voldemort struck me at birth, then none of this would've happened. They would all be alive. Every one of them. They would all be leading happy lives... Maxime and Hagrid would be married, Tonks and Lupin would travel the world together, Fred and George would bathe in riches from their internationally loved business, Sirius would live with Mum and Dad...

I fell to my knees, mud splattering my drained corpse. I felt as if a Dementor was sucking the very life force out of me. No soul, no emotions, just conciousness... It all sounded too tempting. My gaze snapped up as a warm hand gripped my shoulder, electricity burned my skin on impact. Even without the aid of my eyes, I could make out the mop of strawberry blond hair that now clung to those gleaming eyes. Why were his eyes still twinkling? Why was he so handsome in the rain, while I sat there, a monstrosity, my face blotched and my eyes bloodshot. I was dead to myself and the world, and he was perfect. It was so unfair. That's how it had been since the moment I met him. He was the sweet, naive boy who couldn't flatter any girl for his life and always had chocolate smeared on his baby cheeks. I was the scarred, traumatised youth who was destined to save the world yet had no intention or talent to do so.

I stood to confront him, the two opposites, the light and the shadow, fire and ice. At least that way I wasn't the inferior being. At least that way I had some chance of intimidating him. 'Run, little flame, run, before I extinguish you with my impenetrable darkness'. It didn't help. His honest eyes seemed to kill my insides. His goodness murdered the storm inside of me, the mess that I was.

"Harry?" Just saying my name, it sent a snake crawling down my spine. He didn't expect a reply. I noticed from the corner of my eye his hand still placed firmly on my shoulder. "He's gone." I wanted to laugh out. Of course he was gone! Well done for stating the obvious, Ron! Have a medal, or a trophy perhaps? Take it all, take everything! Take my world and do with it what you please! It didn't mean anything anyway... Those two simple words, though... It sent some kind of appreciation to pulse through me. I appreciated that he was no longer alive, I appreciated that he was no longer suffering, I appreciated what he did for us and that he did it out of the kindness of his heart. Before I knew it, Ron's firm arms were constricting my messed-up form. I couldn't breathe, and I loved it. I embraced this new agony that, for the first time in a month, didn't come from my heart. No, it just strangled my stomach instead. I felt his chest rise and fall with every sob, the rhythm of his sorrows. "He didn't have to go... He shouldn't have gone." I clasped the back of Ron's skull and pushed his head closer to my own. I wanted him to be close, I needed him to be close enough for me to feel his pulse and hear his staggered breath. "We lose too many people we love". The words caressed my ear, the pleasure swept through me and the feelings of the previous night bubbled up inside my intestines.

"I know... I know... and I'm sorry..." A silence. A shove. And a glare of raw, burning emotion.

"What do you mean 'you're sorry'?" And there it was again, that voice, it boomed with authority and aggression, like an alpha male in a pack of lions. He was in charge, he was the unspoken law, and he knew it.

"Well, if it wasn't for me, he wouldn't have been dead. And not just him, all of them. Sirius, Dumbledore, Snape, Tonks, Lupin, Fred-" My spine cracked as I hit the sod beneath me. Fang yelped and ran back to the cabin, finally aware that his power was outweighed by this new predator. The wizards dotted around the forest began searching for their wands, they could smell danger in the still air, they could smell the love and the hate infused into a cocktail of violence. Even the rain seemed to fall silent, obedient to its new master.

"DON'T YOU DARE BLAME YOURSELF, HARRY JAMES POTTER!" His hand was still raised at chest height. My chest. I could feel the site of the impact go up in flames, as if ember had sparked against me.

"WELL, WHO ELSE IS TO BLAME?!" I screamed back, the tears returning to my face. The attack on my physical being didn't hurt; the pain came from the mental attack. How could he question it for a second? Of course it was me. It was always me.

"VOLDEMORT, YOU BASTARD!" That's the first time I had ever heard Ron use the name. He seemed shocked at himself. Even though he was mortified and disgusted by his actions, it meant the world to me. It meant that Ron was no longer afraid, that he would use any means to fight against the demons inside my soul, that he had fear in my powers beyond the fear he had in Voldemort's. I slowly stood up, wary that he may attack me again. I then gently placed my hands to his cheeks. They were so warm, they brought life back into my being. I brought my face close to his, our foreheads stabilised by each others', and whispered:

"Thank you..." For a second, he was at peace, the vortexes in his eyes were hypnotised to me. The emerald, the hazel, the sapphire, the diamond. All the colours were trapped in his irises. His shoulders were slumped and he just let me hold him. We were both balanced within the universe, we both understood and respected the words and feelings of each other, a connection beyond that of muggles and human kind. A magical connection. It didn't last long. That grimace soon returned to his face and he threw my hands off him with one, aggressive motion.

"Sometimes, Harry, sometimes... I just can't believe you. Everything is your fucking fault, isn't it? Well guess what, the earth doesn't orbit around you." I was struck with such ferocity, that I didn't notice him disappear into the oak sanctuary. Was that my issue? Was I really so mesmerised by my own faults and thoughts that I was too selfish to appreciate that there were others out there, others who would cause harm with bad intentions in mind. I felt reborn.

I didn't kill them... I didn't kill Dumbledore, Hagrid, Sirius, Snape, Lupin, Tonks, Fred, Mum and Dad... They died while fighting evil, an evil that was not myself. Evil was its own being, and I was beyond that. I was good. Even though pain clasped my heart, love embraced my soul.