Taking Over Me (part 8/11 of the Fallen series)
Series Title: The Fallen Series
Chapter Title: Taking Over Me
Author: Tonya
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Harry deals with loss.
**********
“You saw me mourning my love for you
And touched my hand
I knew you loved me then”
-- “Taking Over Me” by Evanescence
********
He didn’t know what he expected a wizard funeral to be like. There had been so many things in the past six years that he’d seen done much differently in the wizarding world than how they were done in the muggle world in which he grew up.
But as Harry stood amongst a sea of black robes, he realized this was one thing that wizarding and muggle worlds had in common.
Harry had taken part of his last conversation with Dumbledore to heart and had decided to stay at the Burrow with the Weasleys for the past few days. Upon seeing him, Mrs. Weasley had embraced him so tight that he was afraid he’d suffocate within the folds of her apron. Even Mr. Weasley had hugged him, something Ron’s dad had never done before. But even with the warm greeting, Harry still couldn’t shake the feeling that he didn’t deserve to be there while they mourned their daughter. Didn’t deserve the soft bed and warm meals they were providing him. Didn’t deserve their affections.
Their undeterred affection for him did nothing but make him feel guiltier.
And that guilt had only increased exponentially as he stood among them now, his eyes fixed on the swaying branches of the willow under which Ginny was to be placed. To his left, he heard Hermione give a sniffle, and he glanced over at her in time to see Mrs. Weasley slip a shaky yet comforting arm around her.
Harry frowned deeply, lowering his head and focusing all his attention on the grass beneath his shoes.
It seemed his life was forming a predictable pattern.
Too young to remember what they looked like, too young to probably even form his first words, his parents had been ripped away from him. They had died protecting him because to Voldemort they were expendable, an obstacle to his power.
He had formed an unlikely alliance with Cedric in his fourth year to have that alliance end in the other boy’s unexpected death. Cedric had died because he had been just as expendable as Harry’s parents, a witness that shouldn’t have been.
He had found the closest thing he had ever had to a father in Sirius, and as quickly as that relationship had begun, it had ended in darkness. Another expendable. Another death because of him, because of who he was.
And now Ginny. Murdered simply because she had the unfortunate luck of being friends with the Boy Who Lived.
Apparently, to be The Boy Who Lived, everyone around you must die.
Harry couldn’t help but wonder who would be next, the thought having burned itself into his subconscious since the night he had carried Ginny’s body back from Hogsmeade. Would it be Ron? Would Voldemort go for the heart of the group; the first real friend Harry had ever made? Hermione? His other link to sanity, even in dark times like these? Or would it even be Luna for that matter? The eccentric new member of their inner circle and whose friendship to which he had grown attached?
Everyone who knew him was marked. All of them were putting their lives on the line for him, whether consciously or not, and he had to put a stop to it.
Because he didn’t have it in him to stumble across the body of another fallen friend. Didn’t have it in him to stand at another funeral of someone he cared about simply because they had happened to associate with the Boy Who Lived. Didn’t have it in him to mourn another death caused by something he could have prevented if only he had acted fast enough.
Given the choice, he would gladly sever all ties from everyone he knew than see another loved one dead at his hands.
His head still lowered, Harry exhaled deeply and shut his eyes, that last thought lingering behind his closed eyelids.
Given the choice.
He found himself pulled from his thoughts by a warm hand slipping into his own and giving it a gentle squeeze. Harry didn’t even have to open his eyes to know that the comforting hand belonged to Luna, who had been standing silently just over his shoulder throughout the funeral. It took everything in him to give her hand a squeeze in return, to show that he appreciated the gesture.
Given the choice, he would sever all ties.
For the first time that he could remember, Harry had a choice, and as he gently removed his hand from Luna’s, he made it.
Chapter Title: Taking Over Me
Author: Tonya
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Harry deals with loss.
**********
“You saw me mourning my love for you
And touched my hand
I knew you loved me then”
-- “Taking Over Me” by Evanescence
********
He didn’t know what he expected a wizard funeral to be like. There had been so many things in the past six years that he’d seen done much differently in the wizarding world than how they were done in the muggle world in which he grew up.
But as Harry stood amongst a sea of black robes, he realized this was one thing that wizarding and muggle worlds had in common.
Harry had taken part of his last conversation with Dumbledore to heart and had decided to stay at the Burrow with the Weasleys for the past few days. Upon seeing him, Mrs. Weasley had embraced him so tight that he was afraid he’d suffocate within the folds of her apron. Even Mr. Weasley had hugged him, something Ron’s dad had never done before. But even with the warm greeting, Harry still couldn’t shake the feeling that he didn’t deserve to be there while they mourned their daughter. Didn’t deserve the soft bed and warm meals they were providing him. Didn’t deserve their affections.
Their undeterred affection for him did nothing but make him feel guiltier.
And that guilt had only increased exponentially as he stood among them now, his eyes fixed on the swaying branches of the willow under which Ginny was to be placed. To his left, he heard Hermione give a sniffle, and he glanced over at her in time to see Mrs. Weasley slip a shaky yet comforting arm around her.
Harry frowned deeply, lowering his head and focusing all his attention on the grass beneath his shoes.
It seemed his life was forming a predictable pattern.
Too young to remember what they looked like, too young to probably even form his first words, his parents had been ripped away from him. They had died protecting him because to Voldemort they were expendable, an obstacle to his power.
He had formed an unlikely alliance with Cedric in his fourth year to have that alliance end in the other boy’s unexpected death. Cedric had died because he had been just as expendable as Harry’s parents, a witness that shouldn’t have been.
He had found the closest thing he had ever had to a father in Sirius, and as quickly as that relationship had begun, it had ended in darkness. Another expendable. Another death because of him, because of who he was.
And now Ginny. Murdered simply because she had the unfortunate luck of being friends with the Boy Who Lived.
Apparently, to be The Boy Who Lived, everyone around you must die.
Harry couldn’t help but wonder who would be next, the thought having burned itself into his subconscious since the night he had carried Ginny’s body back from Hogsmeade. Would it be Ron? Would Voldemort go for the heart of the group; the first real friend Harry had ever made? Hermione? His other link to sanity, even in dark times like these? Or would it even be Luna for that matter? The eccentric new member of their inner circle and whose friendship to which he had grown attached?
Everyone who knew him was marked. All of them were putting their lives on the line for him, whether consciously or not, and he had to put a stop to it.
Because he didn’t have it in him to stumble across the body of another fallen friend. Didn’t have it in him to stand at another funeral of someone he cared about simply because they had happened to associate with the Boy Who Lived. Didn’t have it in him to mourn another death caused by something he could have prevented if only he had acted fast enough.
Given the choice, he would gladly sever all ties from everyone he knew than see another loved one dead at his hands.
His head still lowered, Harry exhaled deeply and shut his eyes, that last thought lingering behind his closed eyelids.
Given the choice.
He found himself pulled from his thoughts by a warm hand slipping into his own and giving it a gentle squeeze. Harry didn’t even have to open his eyes to know that the comforting hand belonged to Luna, who had been standing silently just over his shoulder throughout the funeral. It took everything in him to give her hand a squeeze in return, to show that he appreciated the gesture.
Given the choice, he would sever all ties.
For the first time that he could remember, Harry had a choice, and as he gently removed his hand from Luna’s, he made it.