Chapter Text
Three years had passed since the war—three excruciating years of rebuilding the world and mourning those who had given their lives to fight Voldemort’s cause. Harry Potter had believed that when he forfeited his life and youth, forcing himself to grow up too fast so that the next generations of wizards might live in peace, it would all be over… but he had been wrong.
Voldemort’s death eaters were still out there, waiting for him to rise from the dead. He had risen before, so there’s no reason why he couldn’t rise again. How absurd, Harry thought.
Harry did not go back to Hogwarts to continue his seventh year. The Ministry of magic awarded him The Order of Merlin First class for saving the wizarding world for the nth time. With it came the benefits of not having to finish his magical studies but still be able to receive his diploma. With it came the gratitude of the everyone he saved, giving him the opportunity to be everything he wanted. So, he chose to be an auror to help find the rest of the death eaters and finally put the war to its bittersweet end.
He lived in Grimmauld place, the ancestral house he inherited from his godfather Sirius Black. The place reminded him of all the pain he suffered through the war, but he could not simply give it up. Besides, having these awful memories was better than not remembering the people he once cherished.
Watching the meat grill on the pan, he felt a faint electricity cut through his fingers—someone passed the wards. He turned the stove off and grabbed his wand from the table. He calmly walked to the door and saw Ronald Weasley enter, almost falling in his haste. He was heavily panting, hair clung to his face with sweat, dark circles under his eyes evident.
“Ron, what—”
“They took her, Harry,” Ron whispered, tears running down his face.
“What?” Harry asked in confusion. “Who took who?”
Ron crossed the hallway to the kitchen, grabbing his hair in frustration and fear. “They took Hermione!”
Harry’s heart skipped a beat. It couldn’t be. This couldn’t be happening. Not Hermione, not our Hermione, please. Harry told himself to breathe, he would not have another episode of his awful panic attacks.
“Tell me more, Ron.” Harry urged as he followed. He dropped his wand on the kitchen counter and transferred the pan he left to the sink. “What happened? Who else knows? Have you told Auror Dawlish?”
Ron shook his head, staring at his mud-covered shoes, his knuckles white from how tightly he held his wand, his body visibly shaking. Harry knew the signs of anxiety. He tried to give comfort to his friend, holding both his shoulders. “Ron, look at me. We’ll get her back. I need you to calm down and tell me everything.”
“Calm down?” Ron asked in fury. “You want me to calm down when the woman I love is in danger? What the hell, Harry?!”
Harry knew that Ron was just incredibly scared, so he ignored the rudeness in the way he spoke. “I know this must be terrifying for you right now but the only thing we can do is plan how to get her back. I need you to breathe for me. Sit here in the meantime and I’ll floo call the ministry, okay?”
He turned to the fireplace and before he could reach it, he felt blinding pain on his back, travelling all the way to his chest. Shock covered Harry’s face when he whipped around to find Ron’s wand pointing at him. He touched his front and saw blood. Ron sent him a cutting curse!
“What the fuck, Ron!” Harry screamed in agony, hurriedly stepping away. He saw Ron looked at his wand on the table and they both lunged for it. Ron got to it first and pocketed it. “What are you doing?!”
“They told me if I don’t kill you tonight, they would send me Hermione’s body in pieces!” Ron cried, to Harry’s disbelief. “I’m so sorry, Harry. I love you, mate, but it’s either you or Hermione. I can’t live without Hermione!”
“Ron, you don’t need to do this! We can save her together!” Harry yelled, the betrayal hurt even more. Ron sent him another curse. This time, he sidestepped it.
Raising his hand, he fired back a wandless Confringo to Ron. He dodged it but the ends of his robes caught in fire. Harry was an expert in wandless magic now and it made Ron pale. They both launched curses against each other. Not having his wand shouldn’t be a problem to Harry but he’s quickly losing a lot of blood. He’s starting to see spots in his vision. Wandless magic was taking a huge toll on him. He needed to get a wand as soon as possible.
Harry ran for his life.
He ducked as Ron sent curse after curse at him as he climbed the stairs. The drapes Harry had hung over the wall fell, revealing the portraits who were all screaming as they were hit with blood-boiling curses that melted their paint.
“Blood traitors!” was the last thing Walburga shouted before she was obliterated to dust by a Bombarda.
Harry flung open the door to the library with a force that rattled the hinges. He kept Sirius’s wand in an heirloom jewellery box in one of the shelves.
Music was the first thing Harry noticed as he stepped inside.
I see trees of green, red roses too
I see them bloom for me and you
And I think to myself, what a wonderful world!
There was record player in the corner of the room that wasn’t there before, filling the space with lazily warm music, a contrast to the violence happening around.
I see skies of blue and clouds of white
The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night
And I think to myself, what a wonderful world!
He fell to his knees, his breath rattled in his chest, torturous and exhausting. He could already feel his life slipping from his grasp, the shadow of death looming over him. Something inside him told him to touch the record player. So, with all the strength he could muster, he crawled towards it. Engraved letters at the corner of the player glinted in the light—CB & OAB. His fingers traced the golden letters, and he felt sudden warmth.
The colors of the rainbow so pretty in the sky
Are also on the faces of people going by
I see friends shaking hands saying, “How do you do?”
They’re really saying, “I love you”.
Ron stumbled into the room, wand raised but stopped mid-cursing. Harry heard the sharp sound of a wand cluttering to the floor. His eyes found Ron as he slowly faded, his body becoming translucent, before he ultimately vanished from the room.
I hear babies cry, and I watched them grow
They’ll learn much more than I’ll ever know
And I think to myself, what a wonderful world!
Bewildered by Ron’s sudden disappearance, Harry raised his hand. Its outlines were barely there, his palm no longer visible. He heard loud knocks from the door as a glimpse of blonde hair flashed in his vision before his eyes fluttered close. “Uncle Sirius? Are you there?” asked someone from outside.
Yes, I think to myself, what a wonderful world!