Healing Hearts

Chapter 7

"What? How?"
Harry looked around in nostalgia as he sat down in his familiar spot. He was in an old clearing he had found when he was younger in the forest off of the neighborhoods playground. It had been pretty and peaceful until the city had decided to mow it all down for more houses to be built. He still remembered the terrible destruction the diggers and plowers wrought, animals scurrying away in fear, others killed in their sleep, and all their habitats destroyed. Harry had sheltered a few baby foxes and squirrels until they were old enough to defend themselves and hunt, but he hadn't been able to save any other animals.
Surveying the rest of the area, Harry delighted in all of the wildlife, as he could see small animals poking their heads out to look at him every now and then. His eyes caught one that seemed to be avoided by the rest though. It was a small snake, scarred and misshapen, and Harry knew it wouldn't last long. Getting up from his spot, Harry walked over to the snake, though he chose to stand a couple lengths away from it, unsure if it would attack. Injured animals were like cornered animals, and cornered animals were unpredictable. They would do anything to survive.
The snake hissed at him, garbled words, but Harry understood now why it was so wretched looking.
"So this was what was lying in my head all this time, huh? Leeching off my life and magic to survive."
Harry sat down beside the horcrux, staring sadly as it struggled to coil up, hissing gibberish at him the whole while.
"Oh Tom, you could have been great, but your fear of death overwhelmed you. 'A power the Dark Lord knows not.' It wasn't love like Dumbledore said, was it? It was an acceptance of death, and all that it stood for."
Turning to look at all the other wildlife, Harry laid down on his back, staring up at the stars in the dimming night sky. He didn't know when the sun had gone down, but the sight was beautiful.
"There might be some actual fact to the Tale of the Three Brothers. The one that chose to accept Death like an old friend lived the longest and the fullest life."
Turning to look at the snake again, it seemed to have given up on intimidating him, as all it did was stare.
"I wonder how many people were sent to Death early because you didn't want to meet him yourself."
A sudden shift took over the air, as the breeze that had been lightly blowing through the trees now condensed into a howling wind. The fading light in the sky was blacked out like an ink spill, and Harry felt a chill permeate his spine.
"Too many."
Animals of all different types slowly started to walk out of the forest, all housing different types of injuries, but for some, none at all. Harry stood up in horror as more and more animals came into the widening clearing, the kill count falling into tens, then hundreds, and then thousands.
By the time all the animals had come forward, Harry couldn't see the end of them. They all stood impossibly still, staring at him with dull eyes, and Harry felt a deep clenching in his gut fuel his shock.
Anger bubbled in his throat as he realized just how terrible Voldemort has been. He hadn't been a man capable of being saved. He had lost the title a long time ago. He was a monster, and they could never be saved.
Harry woke with a gasp, grasping his sleeping bag in fear. Every now and then, he'd be haunted by what happened that day, so many weeks ago. To have pitied such a monster disgusted Harry, but he knew he'd do it again if given the chance. All monsters were made from men, and if you could reach the man, then you could stop the monster.

-

"Help! Please, someone!"
Harry grit his teeth as he slung a thick rope over the edge of a cliff face and into the ravine. A man lay at the bottom of it, unable to get up due to the thick sheets of ice covering both sides.
"I'm here to help! Can you tie your end around your waist? I'll hoist you up!"
A sob of joy could be faintly heard as Harry felt light tugs on the thick rope. "Ready?"
"Yes!"
"Okay..."
Taking a deep breath and pouring a little extra magic into his limbs, Harry stuck his feet into the snow and pulled his end of the rope hard, creating a type of hoisting system with the edge of the cliff.
It was slow and hard work, even with Harry's magical boost. Of course, it could have been easier, but using pure magic to rescue a muggle would have raised too many questions to answer, as well as breaking the Statute of Secrecy.
Thirty minutes later, the rescue was finally over as, with a grunt, Harry pulled the last few yards of rope towards himself. He held his end of the rope tightly as the bedraggled man attached to the other end tried to get a grip on the edge of the dreadful cliff, before managing to pull himself up the last few feet to safety.
Harry watched in worry as the man stumbled a few more feet from the ledge, before falling to the ground in exhausted relief. The wizard quietly approached as the man cried, frozen tears sticking to his exhausted face.