Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Innocence Faded
Disclaimer: Going to war without the French is like going duck hunting without your accordion. Also, lyrics for "A Tout Le Monde" belong to Megadeth
A/N:
All we see and all we seem,
Is but a dream within a dream.
--Edgar Allen Poe
Chapter 5: Solitary Shell
As a man he was a danger to himself
Fearful and sad most of the time
He was drifting in and out of sanity
But in every other way he was fine
--Dream Theater "Solitary Shell"
The next few days were ablur of depression and memories of that night. He remembered how he and Hermione had kissed for the first time in almost seventeen years; he could still remember how it felt, the way her lips tasted. He remembered how she had pulled away so abruptly, and left the hospital wing in a hurry. Maybe they'll give me something other than cereal this morning, something requiring a knife and fork...or at the very least a spork. The whole time he had been in the hospital wing, all he had been given to eat was foods that could be eaten with his fingers.
Maybe...maybe if I'd never confessed my love to Hermione all those years ago...perhaps I wouldn't be in this situation...yeah, that's right...I wouldn't be in this situation...I'd only be in Azkaban after killing Ron for being with the woman I love...
He began to shake with silent giggles.
The universe is just one big joke, isn't it...and if the universe is a joke, then I must be the punch line...I wonder when my breakfast will get here...oh, there it is, right on the nightstand...urgh, Miracle Whip, I HATE Miracle Whip, especially on bacon and tomato sandwiches...yet more proof that the universe is always shitting on me...
The silent laughter escalated, to the point of audibly snickering from time to time.
You know, my life would make a great story...well, it would if you removed all the parts where I loved Hermione...I wonder what lunch will be, 'cause I am notgoing to eat that sandwich...I must figure out how to become a ghost so that when I kill myself I can come back and haunt Ginny...
Suddenly the occasional snickering became one long, thunderous peal of insane laughter, and he found himself unable to breath. His vision began to darken at the edges and still he couldn't stop laughing.
So this is how the great'Boy-Who-Lived' ends, in a fit of madness...
As suddenly as it started, the laughing ended. Harry dropped into a state somewhere between death and coma, staring out at the world with unseeing eyes. Madame Midgen--already alarmed by the laughter and now even more alarmed by the sudden end--came running around the barrier at this point. Harry's breath was shallow and his heartbeat faint, weak. He was on the razor's edge of life and death, and there was nothing she could do to help. It was as if he had lost the will to live, and, as powerful as he was, his magic was trying to comply with his death wish. She rushed off to summon his loved ones, and to contact someone with experience in this matter, if such a one existed.
------
Hermione was teaching her first class of the day, a sixth year class, the Protean Charm, when the message rang in her ear.
"I'm sorry to bother you, Hermione," said the voice of Eloise Midgen, "but you might want to get down here. Harry's taken aturn for the worse, and he might not survive the day."
"Something urgent has come up and I must go. Homework is an essay, five feet long, on the wand movements and cadence required to successfully cast the Protean Charm, and how casting the charm nonverbally affects those properties," Hermione said as she hurried out the door.
She reached the hospital wing in less than five minutes. She opened the door and ran to Harry's bed. James and Albus were already sitting by their father. She shooed James out of the chair he was sitting in and leaned in close to Harry, saying, "Don't you dare die on me now, Harry." /Especially now that I've made my decision/, she added to herself. She had realized, on her way to the hospital wing, that she couldn't live without him, not anymore, not after he had confessed that he still loved her, not after that kiss. She kissed him on the lips and tried to close his eyes, only to have them open again the instant she removed her hand. She slumped back into the chair James had vacated only moments earlier, tears in her eyes.
"Aunt Hermione," Albus said, "I'm scared."
She looked into those shocking green eyes, /Harry's eyes/, and said, "So am I," as she pulled him into an embrace.
"So am I."
------
Harry found himself reliving his life. His life wasn't simply flashing before his eyes; he was actually living it over again. Strangely enough, he found himself unable to change the things that he always told himself that he would if he could do it all over again. His life remained unchanged until...
It was the summer before third year, and on this particular day he found himself out in the garden, pulling weeds, making sure that the grass was all the same height, ignoring the mutterings of passersby about 'that Potter hooligan.' I know this day. This was the day I met Julie. After Ifinished my chores I went to the play park where she came up and introduced herself. The rest, as they say, is history. However, for some reason, instead of going to the play park after his chores, he went to his room. For the rest of his stay with the Dursleys he would catch her flashing him a smile as she passed, but she never approached him. Perhaps it was because they never found themselves meeting in a place where they wouldn't be overheard. And then there was that disastrous dinner with Marge...
------
Ron was just preparing to release the boggart into the room when he got the message.
"Ron, Harry is hanging on by a thread. I think it would be best if you were here in the hospital wing with him. Find Jonas and Jenna and bring them with you," Eloise Midgen's voice rang in his ear.
He was stunned. He stood there for more than a minute, his hand resting on the catch of the writing desk the boggart had taken up residence in. He was drawn out of his musings by a third year Slytherin drawling, in away very reminiscent of Draco Malfoy, "Okay, whose greatest fear is alife-like statue of Professor Weasley preparing to release a boggart?"
Ron was shaken from his stupor and snapped, "Five points from Slytherin. I gotta go. I want a foot on boggarts when we next meet." He rushed to the door, pausing long enough to say, "Class dismissed."
His first stop was the Potions room. The new Potions professor, Professor Eltoora Sarptyl, had refused to teach in the dungeons, so Potions was now taught in one of the previously unused classrooms.
"Excuse me, Professor Sarptyl, but I need to borrow Jonas and Jenna," Ron said. He then turned to the two and said, "Bring your stuff, you probably won't be returning to class."
After getting their homework assignments the twins joined Ron in the corridor. "So what's this about, anyway?" Jenna asked.
Ron sighed heavily as he started off towards the hospital wing, motioning for them to follow him. Finally, he said, with a hoarseness in his voice suggesting that he was trying hard not to cry, "Your dad's not doing well. Madame Midgen said he's 'hanging on by a thread.' She told me to get you and go to the hospital wing." They passed the rest of the trip to the hospital wing in silence, save for the occasional sniffle or sob.
They reached the hospital wing and Jenna rushed to her father's side. Ron walked slowly forwards with Jonas at his side. He came around the barrier only to meet his wife's eyes, and he knew; he knew instantly she had come to the decision he had expected her to come to. Come on Harry, you've got to keep fighting. If not for yourself, then do it for Hermione.
Ron conjured a chair and joined the vigil.
------
Harry continued to relive his life. He'd failed to prevent Wormtail's escape. Now he was in his fourth year at Hogwarts, and, oddly enough, the first task had just ended and he had yet to talk to either of the Patils. Shouldn't they be 'congratulating' me about now? Oh, wait, that's right. They aren't my girlfriends this time around. This time around Ron resented him merely for being entered in the Triwizard Tournament. Last time around it had been the fact that Harry was going out with twins, very hot ones at that. Harry felt that Ron had abetter reason to hate him last time.
The rest of the year passed, though after the Yule Ball things played out much as they had in the previous timeline, with the Patils resenting him for the next month--unfortunately for Harry, though, this time there was no mind-blowing makeup sex, just grudging indifference.
------
Back on the material plane, Madame Midgen had called in the experts, a group of Unspeakables knowledgeable in subconscious magic, a dangerous manifestation of accidental magic more closely related to arcane sorcery than modern wand magic. Rather than manifesting an actual spell, some wizards and witches could actually bend the forces of magic to their will, though the ability to do this consciously had been lost to the ages.
They were in an empty classroom near the hospital wing that had been turned into a private room after Unspeakables arrived.
"Mrs. Weasley, there is nothing more we can do," one of the Unspeakables was saying. "When someone goes into 'magical metabolic shutdown,' they believe that they have relived their life, with a few key differences. From what we have learned from the survivors, those differences are the root cause of whatever the afflicted believes caused their life to become so unbearable that they wish to end it. I know that sounds like a complicated set of circumstances, but it's the truth. I've seen this five times before, and only two of the five survived. They described entire lifetimes, up until the point in their life where the affliction occurred. Their 'alternate lives' played out almost exactly as their original life did, with minor differences." The man smiled sadly, saying, "We'll know by tomorrow morning whether he lives or dies."
"I think I've heard of that. Didn't an American researcher call it Clarence Syndrome?" Hermione asked, momentarily forgetting her grief in the excitement of discussing obscure knowledge.
"Actually she called it a clarencian coma," the Unspeakable corrected. "It's also been called Wonderful Life Disorder and Guardian Angel Psychosis. All terms coined by muggleborns in the last seventy years, believe it or not," he added.
"You said before that you've seen this five times before and two of those times the person survived. What is the survival rate of this...this affliction?
"There are four hundred ninety-eight known cases worldwide in the past two centuries. Counting the two I witnessed," the man paused, seemingly reluctant to finish the thought, " there are a total of six survivors out of all those cases," he finally finished.
"Is there anything anyone can do to help him pull through? Anything at all?" Jenna pleaded, having overheard the end of the conversation. Her normally bright green eyes were currently clouded with tears.
"I'm afraid not, Miss Potter. He has to want to recover. There's just nothing anyone can do if he doesn't want to live," the man said, sadly. "Not much is known about magical metabolic shutdown. We don't even know the reason they relive their lives rather than simply dying."
Hermione walked back over to Harry's bed and sat in the chair near the headboard. She looked over at Jonas and saw something she never expected to see: Jonas, the person whom she could always count on to stay together when things got tough, had his face buried in his palms, his broad shoulders jerking irregularly as sobs wracked his massive frame.
The sight of her normally stoic son openly weeping shook her more than anything had shaken her since the time she and Harry had faced Voldemort on Christmas Eve during the Horcrux hunt.
Suddenly the door burst open, revealing Ginny, her wand drawn and pointed at Hermione.
"Step away from my husband!"
------
Harry continued to relive his life. It was now late April of 1996. He never got back with Cho. This life was almost bearable, what with no crabs from Julie and not being called Cedric by a crying Asian girl as she climaxed. Also, Umbridge was slightly more pleasant this time around, having not given Filch permission to hang people by their thumbs, or any other arcane forms of punishment he was always longing for--at least she hadn't /yet/. Still...something was missing. For one he and Hermione weren't as close in this life. And Ron was a bigger asshole than Harry remembered. Furthermore--and he felt that this was the most important downside--he hadn't had a threesome with hot twins.
His efforts to prevent himself from going to save Sirius were proving futile. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't make himself try harder with Occlumency. He couldn't tell his friends to forcibly restrain him if he started talking about Sirius being in danger--couldn't even write them notes telling them this.
And still the days passed.
Before he knew it, the day was upon him. He made sure he had the special galleon with him. Then again, he always carried it in the original timeline, even after Hogwarts. He barely even registered the events of day until he was in the forest, surrounded by Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, and Luna. Hermione was telling him to call the DA, and he was trying to agree with her, but despite his best efforts, he couldn't, and just like that his best efforts came to nothing.
------
"Step away from my husband!" Ginny repeated.
"Excuse me?" Hermione said. "/Your/husband? You do know that marriages where one of the participants is under the effects of a love potion during the ceremony are invalid, right?"
Ginny stood there, wand raised, apparently thinking, finally saying, "H-he just need a nudge to make him see that he loved me."
Hermione snorted derisively. "Do you honestly believe what your saying?" she said. "If you honestly believed he loved you, you wouldn't have used Amortentia Minima. All those years of brewing what is widely regarded as the most dangerous potion to brew--just for a /nudge/!? Who are you trying to fool here?" Hermione shook her head.
Suddenly a bolt of red energy--a stunning spell--flashed by Hermione's left ear, close enough that her ear went numb. At that instant two things happened. Jonas stood and charged Ginny seizing her wand and snapping it like a twig between the thumb and forefinger of his left hand. Hermione shouted, "That's it. I wasn't going to do this, but you leave me no choice.
"I Hermione Jean Granger Weasley, do hereby challenge one Ginevra Molly Weasley Potter to an honor duel, at the time and place of her choosing," Hermione said, glacially calm.
Ginny snapped back,"Halloween, astronomy tower, sundown," and stormed out of the room.
Hermione suddenly became aware of a soft voice speaking, as if reciting poetry. That sounds like Harry...reciting the lyrics of...Oh, no! No, no, no, no, NO! No one's lips were moving, not even Harry's. Harry himself was surrounded by a faint pink glow, his hair fluttering in nonexistent air currents. And still the words came, seemingly coming from the air itself.
So as you read this, know my friends
I'd love to stay with you all
Please smile when you think about me
My body's gone, that's all
------
Harry found himself jolted back to the clearing in the forest. He knew what was coming, and sure enough a long mane of silvery blond hair fell around his face as Narcissa Malfoy queried as to the fate of her son.
As he was being carried to the castle, he thought of how this life compared to the previous one. So far, it was slightly better than the previous. And yet...something was missing. The previous year, when he had gone out with Ginny, he had not felt love for her, merely protectiveness and mild affection, though that month and a half was the best he experienced in this new timeline. He remembered Hermione's expression when he declined her offer to help him relieve his stress, all those month's ago. And though it didn't hurt to assure Ron that nothing happened--or could ever happen--between himself and Hermione, there was still a vague yet profound emptiness that tolled like a bell within him every time he said it.
He went through the motions of the battle, letting it play out as it would. He had recently come to the realization that he would not be able to change any major events, leaving him free to think at these moments. Suddenly the battle was over, the dead collected for burial, the wounded being tended to. Harry considered going to find Hermione, but thought better of it and went to comfort Ginny instead.
Yet again the emptiness tolled within.
------
It was now almost midnight of day two, and after almost thirty-eight hours, Harry had yet to wake, though the air continued to speak in his voice, reciting the lyrics of the same song, over and over again. One of the Unspeakables had assured them that the ethereal recitation meant nothing. The first two times he had seen this affliction he had cast /rennervate/on the subject. The first one had recited "Annabelle Lee" and survived, and second had spent the next sixteen hours reciting the published works of William Shakespeare, in chronological order, until he eventually died.
Ron had come over to talk to her shortly after Ginny left. Hermione had thought that he was going to try to convince her to reconsider her challenge, even though she couldn't, not after a formal challenge was made. Instead, he reminded her that in an honor duel the Unforgivables were permissible.
Shortly after dinner George had arrived with Lily and Hugo. Hugo was sleeping in the chair next to Hermione, and Lily was sitting in James's lap, having cried herself to sleep when she learned what was going on.
And still Harry was not awake. The Unspeakable had told her that the time spent in the coma had no correlation as to the chances of survival...at least, he thought so, anyway. Hermione sat back and sighed heavily. She was exhausted, physically and emotionally, and yet she still couldn't sleep. She was just too worried about Harry.
These are the last words
I'll ever speak
They'll set me free
------
The next nineteen years passed quickly. During the years corresponding with his marriage to Hermione, the emptiness within him rang nonstop. It filled his days. It drowned out his dreams. Whenever he thought of Jonas or Jenna, the ringing threatened to drive him mad. When he married Ginny, the ringing caused by the sight of Hermione as the maid of honor caused him to black out. Not his body, but the detached part of himself that still remembered the previous timeline. He couldn't remember anything that happened on 12 May, every year starting in 2000.
And so the years passed, until he found himself sending Albus and James off to Hogwarts. It played out much as he remembered, minus asking Hermione about the progeny they never had. Additionally he was not planning on teaching at Hogwarts. As he turned to leave, everyone disappeared from Platform 9 3/4. Two trains appeared, one bound for 'The Elysian Fields,' the other bound for Hogwarts--at least that's what the departures board said.
"Not again," Harry muttered. He looked down, and was relieved to find that he had remained clothed this time, at least.
"Back again, Isee," came a familiar voice.
Harry turned to see Dumbledore, wearing the familiar grandfatherly smile. "So, this is just like what happened when I faced Voldemort in the clearing?" Harry asked, gesturing to indicate the platform surrounding him.
"Yes, and no. Now you have a decision to make. You have three options. You can go through the barrier to Kings Cross and join your wife, and pick up where you left off in the timeline you just went through; you can take the train to Hogwarts and rejoin the original timeline, or you can take the train to the Elysian Fields, a paradise reserved for heroes such as yourself. It is your choice," Dumbledore said.
"So it was real, the way I relived my life?" Harry asked, not sure which answer he was hoping for.
"Yes, it was quite real. But unless you choose that reality, it will dissolve back into nothingness. Your original timeline will remain, regardless, but unless you choose to rejoin it, your body will die," Dumbledore said, and Harry thought he could detect a hint of sadness in his voice.
"If I choose to join the timeline I just lived..." Harry trailed off, not sure how to word his question.
"You will remember nothing of your original lifetime," Dumbledore said reassuringly, though Harry thought he could still detect that hint of sadness in his voice.
"Does that mean the empty feeling inside of me will go away?" Harry asked hopefully.
"I'm afraid not. It may be less severe, but it will never go away. It will always seem as if something important is missing, but you will never know what," Dumbledore said. "You see, what you feel for Hermione is not something that can ever truly be taken from you."
"And if I choose to return to my original reality?" Harry asked, determined to know the consequences of each decision.
"You will have vague memories of the previous reality for the next week, and after that you will forget everything about it except that it happened. You will retain memories of this conversation for far longer, but you will not remember exactly what was said," Dumbledore explained.
"One more thing before I go. Why did I relive my life instead of just shifting into a new reality, or simply dying?" Harry asked.
"You did not die because it is not yet your time. And there was no guarantee that changing what you saw as the cause of your situation would actually fix it. While you could choose to leave for the Elysian Fields, you would have to have sure of your decision. Any trace of doubt and you would not be taken there," Dumbledore said.
Harry nodded thoughtfully. He mulled over his decision for a few moments. If I choose the new timeline, I'll forget all about what Ginny put me through in the original timeline. Or I could choose the Elysian Fields and forget this whole mess ever happened. He continued to weigh his options for another few minutes.
Finally, he said,"I've made my decision." There was a hint of fatalism in his voice.
"Are you sure?" Dumbledore asked.
"I've never been more sure of anything in my life," Harry said over his shoulder as he walked over to the trains.
He climbed aboard the train representing his choice and it pulled away. He looked back and he thought he saw tears in Dumbledore's eyes, but it could easily have been the late headmaster's usual twinkle, but he would never know exactly which it was.
------
A/N: Yes, a cliffhanger. I know, I know, I'm evil. I have the next chapter done and I'll post it soon.
I know the chapter seems kind of fractured, but that's intentional. I didn't go into great details about the 'new' timeline because the events are the same ones from the timeline from the books, just from a slightly different perspective, with more introspection on how my timeline differs from the books.
Questions? Comments? Plotholes? Just put them in a review and I'll try to respond to them.
A/N:
All we see and all we seem,
Is but a dream within a dream.
--Edgar Allen Poe
Chapter 5: Solitary Shell
As a man he was a danger to himself
Fearful and sad most of the time
He was drifting in and out of sanity
But in every other way he was fine
--Dream Theater "Solitary Shell"
The next few days were ablur of depression and memories of that night. He remembered how he and Hermione had kissed for the first time in almost seventeen years; he could still remember how it felt, the way her lips tasted. He remembered how she had pulled away so abruptly, and left the hospital wing in a hurry. Maybe they'll give me something other than cereal this morning, something requiring a knife and fork...or at the very least a spork. The whole time he had been in the hospital wing, all he had been given to eat was foods that could be eaten with his fingers.
Maybe...maybe if I'd never confessed my love to Hermione all those years ago...perhaps I wouldn't be in this situation...yeah, that's right...I wouldn't be in this situation...I'd only be in Azkaban after killing Ron for being with the woman I love...
He began to shake with silent giggles.
The universe is just one big joke, isn't it...and if the universe is a joke, then I must be the punch line...I wonder when my breakfast will get here...oh, there it is, right on the nightstand...urgh, Miracle Whip, I HATE Miracle Whip, especially on bacon and tomato sandwiches...yet more proof that the universe is always shitting on me...
The silent laughter escalated, to the point of audibly snickering from time to time.
You know, my life would make a great story...well, it would if you removed all the parts where I loved Hermione...I wonder what lunch will be, 'cause I am notgoing to eat that sandwich...I must figure out how to become a ghost so that when I kill myself I can come back and haunt Ginny...
Suddenly the occasional snickering became one long, thunderous peal of insane laughter, and he found himself unable to breath. His vision began to darken at the edges and still he couldn't stop laughing.
So this is how the great'Boy-Who-Lived' ends, in a fit of madness...
As suddenly as it started, the laughing ended. Harry dropped into a state somewhere between death and coma, staring out at the world with unseeing eyes. Madame Midgen--already alarmed by the laughter and now even more alarmed by the sudden end--came running around the barrier at this point. Harry's breath was shallow and his heartbeat faint, weak. He was on the razor's edge of life and death, and there was nothing she could do to help. It was as if he had lost the will to live, and, as powerful as he was, his magic was trying to comply with his death wish. She rushed off to summon his loved ones, and to contact someone with experience in this matter, if such a one existed.
------
Hermione was teaching her first class of the day, a sixth year class, the Protean Charm, when the message rang in her ear.
"I'm sorry to bother you, Hermione," said the voice of Eloise Midgen, "but you might want to get down here. Harry's taken aturn for the worse, and he might not survive the day."
"Something urgent has come up and I must go. Homework is an essay, five feet long, on the wand movements and cadence required to successfully cast the Protean Charm, and how casting the charm nonverbally affects those properties," Hermione said as she hurried out the door.
She reached the hospital wing in less than five minutes. She opened the door and ran to Harry's bed. James and Albus were already sitting by their father. She shooed James out of the chair he was sitting in and leaned in close to Harry, saying, "Don't you dare die on me now, Harry." /Especially now that I've made my decision/, she added to herself. She had realized, on her way to the hospital wing, that she couldn't live without him, not anymore, not after he had confessed that he still loved her, not after that kiss. She kissed him on the lips and tried to close his eyes, only to have them open again the instant she removed her hand. She slumped back into the chair James had vacated only moments earlier, tears in her eyes.
"Aunt Hermione," Albus said, "I'm scared."
She looked into those shocking green eyes, /Harry's eyes/, and said, "So am I," as she pulled him into an embrace.
"So am I."
------
Harry found himself reliving his life. His life wasn't simply flashing before his eyes; he was actually living it over again. Strangely enough, he found himself unable to change the things that he always told himself that he would if he could do it all over again. His life remained unchanged until...
It was the summer before third year, and on this particular day he found himself out in the garden, pulling weeds, making sure that the grass was all the same height, ignoring the mutterings of passersby about 'that Potter hooligan.' I know this day. This was the day I met Julie. After Ifinished my chores I went to the play park where she came up and introduced herself. The rest, as they say, is history. However, for some reason, instead of going to the play park after his chores, he went to his room. For the rest of his stay with the Dursleys he would catch her flashing him a smile as she passed, but she never approached him. Perhaps it was because they never found themselves meeting in a place where they wouldn't be overheard. And then there was that disastrous dinner with Marge...
------
Ron was just preparing to release the boggart into the room when he got the message.
"Ron, Harry is hanging on by a thread. I think it would be best if you were here in the hospital wing with him. Find Jonas and Jenna and bring them with you," Eloise Midgen's voice rang in his ear.
He was stunned. He stood there for more than a minute, his hand resting on the catch of the writing desk the boggart had taken up residence in. He was drawn out of his musings by a third year Slytherin drawling, in away very reminiscent of Draco Malfoy, "Okay, whose greatest fear is alife-like statue of Professor Weasley preparing to release a boggart?"
Ron was shaken from his stupor and snapped, "Five points from Slytherin. I gotta go. I want a foot on boggarts when we next meet." He rushed to the door, pausing long enough to say, "Class dismissed."
His first stop was the Potions room. The new Potions professor, Professor Eltoora Sarptyl, had refused to teach in the dungeons, so Potions was now taught in one of the previously unused classrooms.
"Excuse me, Professor Sarptyl, but I need to borrow Jonas and Jenna," Ron said. He then turned to the two and said, "Bring your stuff, you probably won't be returning to class."
After getting their homework assignments the twins joined Ron in the corridor. "So what's this about, anyway?" Jenna asked.
Ron sighed heavily as he started off towards the hospital wing, motioning for them to follow him. Finally, he said, with a hoarseness in his voice suggesting that he was trying hard not to cry, "Your dad's not doing well. Madame Midgen said he's 'hanging on by a thread.' She told me to get you and go to the hospital wing." They passed the rest of the trip to the hospital wing in silence, save for the occasional sniffle or sob.
They reached the hospital wing and Jenna rushed to her father's side. Ron walked slowly forwards with Jonas at his side. He came around the barrier only to meet his wife's eyes, and he knew; he knew instantly she had come to the decision he had expected her to come to. Come on Harry, you've got to keep fighting. If not for yourself, then do it for Hermione.
Ron conjured a chair and joined the vigil.
------
Harry continued to relive his life. He'd failed to prevent Wormtail's escape. Now he was in his fourth year at Hogwarts, and, oddly enough, the first task had just ended and he had yet to talk to either of the Patils. Shouldn't they be 'congratulating' me about now? Oh, wait, that's right. They aren't my girlfriends this time around. This time around Ron resented him merely for being entered in the Triwizard Tournament. Last time around it had been the fact that Harry was going out with twins, very hot ones at that. Harry felt that Ron had abetter reason to hate him last time.
The rest of the year passed, though after the Yule Ball things played out much as they had in the previous timeline, with the Patils resenting him for the next month--unfortunately for Harry, though, this time there was no mind-blowing makeup sex, just grudging indifference.
------
Back on the material plane, Madame Midgen had called in the experts, a group of Unspeakables knowledgeable in subconscious magic, a dangerous manifestation of accidental magic more closely related to arcane sorcery than modern wand magic. Rather than manifesting an actual spell, some wizards and witches could actually bend the forces of magic to their will, though the ability to do this consciously had been lost to the ages.
They were in an empty classroom near the hospital wing that had been turned into a private room after Unspeakables arrived.
"Mrs. Weasley, there is nothing more we can do," one of the Unspeakables was saying. "When someone goes into 'magical metabolic shutdown,' they believe that they have relived their life, with a few key differences. From what we have learned from the survivors, those differences are the root cause of whatever the afflicted believes caused their life to become so unbearable that they wish to end it. I know that sounds like a complicated set of circumstances, but it's the truth. I've seen this five times before, and only two of the five survived. They described entire lifetimes, up until the point in their life where the affliction occurred. Their 'alternate lives' played out almost exactly as their original life did, with minor differences." The man smiled sadly, saying, "We'll know by tomorrow morning whether he lives or dies."
"I think I've heard of that. Didn't an American researcher call it Clarence Syndrome?" Hermione asked, momentarily forgetting her grief in the excitement of discussing obscure knowledge.
"Actually she called it a clarencian coma," the Unspeakable corrected. "It's also been called Wonderful Life Disorder and Guardian Angel Psychosis. All terms coined by muggleborns in the last seventy years, believe it or not," he added.
"You said before that you've seen this five times before and two of those times the person survived. What is the survival rate of this...this affliction?
"There are four hundred ninety-eight known cases worldwide in the past two centuries. Counting the two I witnessed," the man paused, seemingly reluctant to finish the thought, " there are a total of six survivors out of all those cases," he finally finished.
"Is there anything anyone can do to help him pull through? Anything at all?" Jenna pleaded, having overheard the end of the conversation. Her normally bright green eyes were currently clouded with tears.
"I'm afraid not, Miss Potter. He has to want to recover. There's just nothing anyone can do if he doesn't want to live," the man said, sadly. "Not much is known about magical metabolic shutdown. We don't even know the reason they relive their lives rather than simply dying."
Hermione walked back over to Harry's bed and sat in the chair near the headboard. She looked over at Jonas and saw something she never expected to see: Jonas, the person whom she could always count on to stay together when things got tough, had his face buried in his palms, his broad shoulders jerking irregularly as sobs wracked his massive frame.
The sight of her normally stoic son openly weeping shook her more than anything had shaken her since the time she and Harry had faced Voldemort on Christmas Eve during the Horcrux hunt.
Suddenly the door burst open, revealing Ginny, her wand drawn and pointed at Hermione.
"Step away from my husband!"
------
Harry continued to relive his life. It was now late April of 1996. He never got back with Cho. This life was almost bearable, what with no crabs from Julie and not being called Cedric by a crying Asian girl as she climaxed. Also, Umbridge was slightly more pleasant this time around, having not given Filch permission to hang people by their thumbs, or any other arcane forms of punishment he was always longing for--at least she hadn't /yet/. Still...something was missing. For one he and Hermione weren't as close in this life. And Ron was a bigger asshole than Harry remembered. Furthermore--and he felt that this was the most important downside--he hadn't had a threesome with hot twins.
His efforts to prevent himself from going to save Sirius were proving futile. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't make himself try harder with Occlumency. He couldn't tell his friends to forcibly restrain him if he started talking about Sirius being in danger--couldn't even write them notes telling them this.
And still the days passed.
Before he knew it, the day was upon him. He made sure he had the special galleon with him. Then again, he always carried it in the original timeline, even after Hogwarts. He barely even registered the events of day until he was in the forest, surrounded by Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, and Luna. Hermione was telling him to call the DA, and he was trying to agree with her, but despite his best efforts, he couldn't, and just like that his best efforts came to nothing.
------
"Step away from my husband!" Ginny repeated.
"Excuse me?" Hermione said. "/Your/husband? You do know that marriages where one of the participants is under the effects of a love potion during the ceremony are invalid, right?"
Ginny stood there, wand raised, apparently thinking, finally saying, "H-he just need a nudge to make him see that he loved me."
Hermione snorted derisively. "Do you honestly believe what your saying?" she said. "If you honestly believed he loved you, you wouldn't have used Amortentia Minima. All those years of brewing what is widely regarded as the most dangerous potion to brew--just for a /nudge/!? Who are you trying to fool here?" Hermione shook her head.
Suddenly a bolt of red energy--a stunning spell--flashed by Hermione's left ear, close enough that her ear went numb. At that instant two things happened. Jonas stood and charged Ginny seizing her wand and snapping it like a twig between the thumb and forefinger of his left hand. Hermione shouted, "That's it. I wasn't going to do this, but you leave me no choice.
"I Hermione Jean Granger Weasley, do hereby challenge one Ginevra Molly Weasley Potter to an honor duel, at the time and place of her choosing," Hermione said, glacially calm.
Ginny snapped back,"Halloween, astronomy tower, sundown," and stormed out of the room.
Hermione suddenly became aware of a soft voice speaking, as if reciting poetry. That sounds like Harry...reciting the lyrics of...Oh, no! No, no, no, no, NO! No one's lips were moving, not even Harry's. Harry himself was surrounded by a faint pink glow, his hair fluttering in nonexistent air currents. And still the words came, seemingly coming from the air itself.
So as you read this, know my friends
I'd love to stay with you all
Please smile when you think about me
My body's gone, that's all
------
Harry found himself jolted back to the clearing in the forest. He knew what was coming, and sure enough a long mane of silvery blond hair fell around his face as Narcissa Malfoy queried as to the fate of her son.
As he was being carried to the castle, he thought of how this life compared to the previous one. So far, it was slightly better than the previous. And yet...something was missing. The previous year, when he had gone out with Ginny, he had not felt love for her, merely protectiveness and mild affection, though that month and a half was the best he experienced in this new timeline. He remembered Hermione's expression when he declined her offer to help him relieve his stress, all those month's ago. And though it didn't hurt to assure Ron that nothing happened--or could ever happen--between himself and Hermione, there was still a vague yet profound emptiness that tolled like a bell within him every time he said it.
He went through the motions of the battle, letting it play out as it would. He had recently come to the realization that he would not be able to change any major events, leaving him free to think at these moments. Suddenly the battle was over, the dead collected for burial, the wounded being tended to. Harry considered going to find Hermione, but thought better of it and went to comfort Ginny instead.
Yet again the emptiness tolled within.
------
It was now almost midnight of day two, and after almost thirty-eight hours, Harry had yet to wake, though the air continued to speak in his voice, reciting the lyrics of the same song, over and over again. One of the Unspeakables had assured them that the ethereal recitation meant nothing. The first two times he had seen this affliction he had cast /rennervate/on the subject. The first one had recited "Annabelle Lee" and survived, and second had spent the next sixteen hours reciting the published works of William Shakespeare, in chronological order, until he eventually died.
Ron had come over to talk to her shortly after Ginny left. Hermione had thought that he was going to try to convince her to reconsider her challenge, even though she couldn't, not after a formal challenge was made. Instead, he reminded her that in an honor duel the Unforgivables were permissible.
Shortly after dinner George had arrived with Lily and Hugo. Hugo was sleeping in the chair next to Hermione, and Lily was sitting in James's lap, having cried herself to sleep when she learned what was going on.
And still Harry was not awake. The Unspeakable had told her that the time spent in the coma had no correlation as to the chances of survival...at least, he thought so, anyway. Hermione sat back and sighed heavily. She was exhausted, physically and emotionally, and yet she still couldn't sleep. She was just too worried about Harry.
These are the last words
I'll ever speak
They'll set me free
------
The next nineteen years passed quickly. During the years corresponding with his marriage to Hermione, the emptiness within him rang nonstop. It filled his days. It drowned out his dreams. Whenever he thought of Jonas or Jenna, the ringing threatened to drive him mad. When he married Ginny, the ringing caused by the sight of Hermione as the maid of honor caused him to black out. Not his body, but the detached part of himself that still remembered the previous timeline. He couldn't remember anything that happened on 12 May, every year starting in 2000.
And so the years passed, until he found himself sending Albus and James off to Hogwarts. It played out much as he remembered, minus asking Hermione about the progeny they never had. Additionally he was not planning on teaching at Hogwarts. As he turned to leave, everyone disappeared from Platform 9 3/4. Two trains appeared, one bound for 'The Elysian Fields,' the other bound for Hogwarts--at least that's what the departures board said.
"Not again," Harry muttered. He looked down, and was relieved to find that he had remained clothed this time, at least.
"Back again, Isee," came a familiar voice.
Harry turned to see Dumbledore, wearing the familiar grandfatherly smile. "So, this is just like what happened when I faced Voldemort in the clearing?" Harry asked, gesturing to indicate the platform surrounding him.
"Yes, and no. Now you have a decision to make. You have three options. You can go through the barrier to Kings Cross and join your wife, and pick up where you left off in the timeline you just went through; you can take the train to Hogwarts and rejoin the original timeline, or you can take the train to the Elysian Fields, a paradise reserved for heroes such as yourself. It is your choice," Dumbledore said.
"So it was real, the way I relived my life?" Harry asked, not sure which answer he was hoping for.
"Yes, it was quite real. But unless you choose that reality, it will dissolve back into nothingness. Your original timeline will remain, regardless, but unless you choose to rejoin it, your body will die," Dumbledore said, and Harry thought he could detect a hint of sadness in his voice.
"If I choose to join the timeline I just lived..." Harry trailed off, not sure how to word his question.
"You will remember nothing of your original lifetime," Dumbledore said reassuringly, though Harry thought he could still detect that hint of sadness in his voice.
"Does that mean the empty feeling inside of me will go away?" Harry asked hopefully.
"I'm afraid not. It may be less severe, but it will never go away. It will always seem as if something important is missing, but you will never know what," Dumbledore said. "You see, what you feel for Hermione is not something that can ever truly be taken from you."
"And if I choose to return to my original reality?" Harry asked, determined to know the consequences of each decision.
"You will have vague memories of the previous reality for the next week, and after that you will forget everything about it except that it happened. You will retain memories of this conversation for far longer, but you will not remember exactly what was said," Dumbledore explained.
"One more thing before I go. Why did I relive my life instead of just shifting into a new reality, or simply dying?" Harry asked.
"You did not die because it is not yet your time. And there was no guarantee that changing what you saw as the cause of your situation would actually fix it. While you could choose to leave for the Elysian Fields, you would have to have sure of your decision. Any trace of doubt and you would not be taken there," Dumbledore said.
Harry nodded thoughtfully. He mulled over his decision for a few moments. If I choose the new timeline, I'll forget all about what Ginny put me through in the original timeline. Or I could choose the Elysian Fields and forget this whole mess ever happened. He continued to weigh his options for another few minutes.
Finally, he said,"I've made my decision." There was a hint of fatalism in his voice.
"Are you sure?" Dumbledore asked.
"I've never been more sure of anything in my life," Harry said over his shoulder as he walked over to the trains.
He climbed aboard the train representing his choice and it pulled away. He looked back and he thought he saw tears in Dumbledore's eyes, but it could easily have been the late headmaster's usual twinkle, but he would never know exactly which it was.
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A/N: Yes, a cliffhanger. I know, I know, I'm evil. I have the next chapter done and I'll post it soon.
I know the chapter seems kind of fractured, but that's intentional. I didn't go into great details about the 'new' timeline because the events are the same ones from the timeline from the books, just from a slightly different perspective, with more introspection on how my timeline differs from the books.
Questions? Comments? Plotholes? Just put them in a review and I'll try to respond to them.
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