"Save us, Harry."
"Die, Harry."
"Save us, Harry."
"Die for us, Harry."
"SAVE US, HARRY."
"DIE, HARRY!"
"NOT HARRY!"
"HARRY!"
"HARRY!"
Harry swung a fist out at whoever was in his face, he opened his eyes and swung again when he realized he didn't have his knife —
Where was his knife?
He should have it.
"It's domestic violence to beat up your husband."
Harry flinched and tried to make sense of the figure clutching his nose on the bed, the bed itself, and the figure standing beside the odd bed.
The room was dark, but had a familiar smoky scent that made Harry think of leather. Harry squinted through the darkness and saw the red hair of… of…
"Fred?" he whispered. Harry reached out to touch the top of Fred's ducked head and winced when Fred sat up and Harry saw his face. "What happened to you?"
"You did just hit him."
Harry twisted his head around and saw Theo standing beside the bed Harry was in.
"Don't ask me if this is a dream, and take your goddaughter." Theo held a little bundle of pink out to Harry and Harry had to blink a few times to make sense of what he was being offered.
"Rosie?" Harry asked. It felt like there was a layer of fog in his head, clouding his thoughts and making them move slowly to connect pieces together while everything outside of his head moved quicker than a Firebolt.
Theo grabbed Harry's wrist and lifted his arm so he could settle the baby in it.
"Hold her," Theo said. Harry looked at the smoothness of Rosie's cheeks and the softness of her closed eyelids while Theo's voice washed over him soothingly. "You're at Moon Lodge in Sirius' bedroom. There's roughly fifty muggleborns in the house downstairs because you just broke them all out of prison."
Harry jolted and it was Fred's hands that held his arms steady so he didn't jolt Rosie.
"We blew it up," Fred whispered in Harry's ear. "And- and everyone's home, but…"
Harry twisted his head so he could look at Fred. Fred's face wasn't smooth - not like Rosie's brown cheeks - it was rough and Harry lifted his hand hesitantly.
"What happened?" Harry asked thickly. Fred's face was scarred, not like Harry's, but like his back had been after the dragon. Fred's eyes watered up and Harry felt his own eyes prickle in response to the misery in Fred's.
Fred wasn't supposed to be miserable. Fred was never miserable.
"It's George," Fred said. His lips quivered and the tears flowed freely down his cheeks that were wrong. "My George."
Harry felt like a true ghost as he floated down the stairs of Moon Lodge. It was dark, late, and the sounds of heavy breathing had Harry's fingers thrumming anxiously on the blanket Rosie was wrapped in. She was an anchor while he walked - tiny, soft, warm proof that he was alive.
Rosie wouldn't join Harry in the land of the ghosts; Death wouldn't take her.
So Harry held her tightly and used her as a light to shine in the corners where the others hid just out of sight while he, Theo, and Fred made a slow procession to the dining room.
They paused outside the door and listened to the ghosts whispering on the inside—
"Brain damage…"
"…never wake up…"
"…retinal nerves severed…"
"Foolish…"
And Harry thought he was the one who opened his mouth with a gasp, but it had been Fred.
Fred who used to lend Harry strength and needed Harry's now. But Harry didn't have any strength to give him. He could give him Rosie, but then the fog in Harry's head would lift him away and all the people who wanted Harry to die would rip the skin from his body and Fred would be twice as alone…
Fred can't be alone.
Theo waited a moment for Fred to collect himself and then he nudged the door open and ushered them inside.
Everything was bright in there, no shadows to lurk in, no fog on the floors.
Just bright lights shining on Fred's dead body.
"George." Fred moaned and Harry blinked and Fred was kneeling on the floor beside the bed where his body lay and Harry hadn't thought he was a ghost with the scars on his face but he didn't understand anymore what the game was or the rules.
First rule was always trust no one.
But Harry broke it and now Fred was dead.
"It's George," Theo whispered directly in Harry's ear. "Fred's face is fucked up and it's George on the bed."
"Harry."
Harry looked up from where Fred knelt directly into the eyes of Sev. Sev's face was pale and his hair had been pushed back just as his sleeves were rolled up, but his eyes were as dark and filled with questions as they'd always been.
"Theodore, you should take your daughter," Sev said quietly as he stared hard at Harry's eyes. He must have seen the shadows inside Harry and didn't trust him with something as pure as Rosie - Harry was a stain that people were trying to wipe off the earth.
Sev knew that Harry stained Fred and it was only a matter of time until he did Rosie as well.
Hermione should have picked someone else.
"She's fine where she is," Theo said firmly. "Harry needs her right now."
"I do," Harry agreed. At his core, Harry knew he was selfish. He knew he was staining Rosie, but he couldn't let the others take him once he set her down. Instead, Harry floated to where Fred knelt and stood beside him, staring down at the face that was so like his.
It's not Fred.
It's not Fred.
It looks like Fred.
Fred can't die.
"He can't die," Harry whispered. Harry shifted Rosie to his side and reached out to touch the shaved head with the scar dissecting it down the side. "Wake up," Harry told him. "Please."
Sev was talking in the background, but nothing he said made sense. Sev was talking about brain injuries and trauma - swelling and internal scars.
I had internal injuries, Hermione reminded Harry.
And I was too busy with the blue baby to help you.
You're not too busy now.
There's no magic left, I can't feel it.
How many times do I have to tell you, Harry James? Your magic is a part of who you are. It's all in your head, just focus.
How could he focus while Fred was dying?
How could you let him die too?
Harry flinched at Hermione's reminder that he let her die.
If Harry didn't die, everyone else would.
Harry's fingers were trembling on Fred's forehead and Fred's miserable cries struck Harry over and over in the chest.
You're so selfish. You've always been so selfish. You won't even try to heal him? You're going to let Fred die?
Leave me alone.
Selfish, Harry, you're always so SELFISH.
"I'M NOT FUCKING SELFISH!" Harry yelled. He left his palm on Fred's forehead and curled his fingers across his head that wasn't the same without his hair and pushed Hermione's voice out threw his hands.
"Heal him."
Hermione fled through Harry's fingertips along with the fog in his head and Harry couldn't even feel smug about getting rid of the ghost because everything went black.
It was quiet here, peaceful.
Harry looked around the quidditch pitch and smiled while his friends were flying in the air.
Susan was such a shit flier.
"Hello, baby." Harry looked beside him in the stands where he sat and was unsurprised to see his mum beside him. She was young, lovely, perfect.
"Hi, Mum," Harry said. He felt so light and giddy, like he'd taken an entire vial of Felix Felicis. Harry twisted his ankle around and frowned at the tattoo that was missing, then he smiled because it didn't matter. It must have absorbed in his skin and given him luck in the form of a blue sky and Lily Potter's perfect smile.
"Why are you torturing yourself, baby?" Lily asked. She pulled Harry in her side and she was warm this time; warm and soft, like a mum should be.
"Am I?" Harry asked curiously. He didn't feel like he was being tortured. "I feel great."
Lily laughed and the explosion of music notes was as beautiful as the sound spilling from her lips was.
"That's because you're dreaming, sweetheart," she said sweetly. "You'll be unhappy when you wake up again." Lily poked Harry's nose and he crinkled it in response. "You're quite an unhappy boy."
Harry laughed, but he didn't get any music notes. It made sense, music notes were saved for people like Lily and Luna who walked on air and left flower petals instead of footprints.
"I'm happy now," Harry assured her. "I love you."
Lily smiled so dazzlingly that Harry saw sparkles.
"And I love you, you magnificent boy. I can't wait until you're finished."
"Finished with what?" Harry asked.
Lily pressed a kiss to the top of Harry's head. "With life, of course," she said. "We're all waiting for you."
Harry's breath caught in his throat as the sky darkened and his friends dropped from their brooms. Lily's arms became vices, preventing Harry from catching them.
"We're all waiting for you," Lily whispered again. "We're all waiting for you."
"We're all waiting for you."
"We're all waiting for you."
"We're all waiting."
When consciousness came, it did so violently.
Harry felt his stomach lurch and his mouth fill with bile and then he couldn't breathe—
He was going to die.
They were waiting.
"Anapneo."
Harry sucked in air through a throat that protested it harshly.
It wasn't dark anymore. The clouds were gone and the fog was thin enough to peer through.
Sev sat beside Harry with his wand out and his eyes always looking for answers that Harry didn't know.
"You foolish boy." Sev reached out and brushed Harry's fringe off his forehead. "With all your impossible abilities, why do you choose the most idiotic things to use them on?"
Harry coughed and Sev moved his hand to conjure him a glass of water.
"What did I do now?" Harry asked after soothing his burning throat with the cold drink.
Sev sighed heavily. "Started a new religion, I believe."
Harry stared at him until he said something that made sense.
"You healed George Weasley."
Harry blinked twice and tried to dig through the frozen ground that his memories were hidden in. Harry slumped against the pillows behind him when he couldn't find anything that would make Sev's words make sense.
Was Harry mad or was Sev?
Perhaps they both were.
"What happened to George?" Harry asked.
Sev narrowed his eyes while he scrutinized Harry until Harry was shifting uncomfortably on the bed. His skin itches and he needed a shower, he felt like he'd been running for days without a break.
"Harry, what is the last thing you remember?"
Harry wrecked his brain. What was the last thing he remembered?
They were on a beach, but it wasn't warm. They flew through the clouds to the prison.
Harry killed a prison guard with his teeth.
And then…
"Dementors." Harry shuddered when he felt the cold deep in his bones. It was lucky Sev was a wizard because he warmed Harry with another soft touch to his forehead.
"You utter fool," Sev murmured. He didn't sound angry, so Harry didn't dispute it. "Scoot, child, and let me tell you a story of the most indisputable fact of luck that has ever existed."
Harry scooted over on the bed that smelled like Sirius and listened while Sev told him what all he missed.
"First, let me tell you that if you ever choose to become a Dark Lord, your following may be made up entirely of Muggleborns…"
Sev told Harry that he'd blacked out in Azkaban-
"Your mind undoubtedly attempting to protect you from the dementors."
"Why didn't my patronus work?" Harry asked, recalling the fear that seized him when his ghost devil didn't appear.
Sev shook his head at Harry. "I have many theories, and no facts. I would wager that it was a combination of stress and the amount of magic it took to cast a killing curse strong enough to end ten bodies from suffering."
"Oh."
Then while Bill Weasley brought Harry to Moon Lodge, the others blew up the prison-
"You must stop robbing the military, Harry."
"Why?"
And when they did it, George got hurt-
"Idiot boy was flying around thoughtlessly and was struck by rubble."
"Is he alright?" Harry asked, thinking of Fred.
"Hush and let me finish."
Then Fred did the unthinkable; when George went down in the flames and was pulled in the endless depths of the ocean, Fred dove in after him-
Harry jolted, he had to see Fred, know that this story had a happy ending.
"Your husband is downstairs with the others. We will find him once you allow me to finish and allow Mavis to feed you."
"You're not lying?"
Sev quirked a brow at Harry in blatant amusement. "Do I lie to you?"
No, but sometimes he didn't tell Harry the whole story until he felt like it.
Sirius and Bill got the twins, brought them to Moon Lodge. Fred was covered in burns and cuts, George wasn't breathing-
"I doubt if you will understand the damage done to him, but George had no hopes of recovering. The damage done to his lungs and his brain, two essential organs, was incomprehensible."
"And Fred?"
"Your Frederick was healed by Lupin."
Harry pulled a face and Sev chuckled lightly.
"I inspected him once I was able," he assured Harry. "He may not be quite as attractive as you once found him to be, but he is healthy."
Harry shrugged beneath the arm around his shoulders. "It's fine," he told Sev. "He liked my scars and I'll probably like his."
Molly Weasley was called to sit beside her son while he died in the makeshift hospital they set up. It was a matter of when he would die, not if-
"And then Theodore drug you in the room with your husband and your goddaughter. You began arguing with yourself and you exhausted yourself by channeling an immense amount of magic to George."
"And then what happened?"
Sev smirked and his eyes were glittering with some sort of mixture of shock and pleasure.
"And then George Weasley woke up as you blacked out once more."
"He's…" Harry blinked quickly and felt a rubber band around his chest snap and release him to breathe easier. "He's fine?"
Sev huffed and it sounded like a laugh so Harry had relaxed.
"Of course not."
Oh.
"George may never walk again and he is entirely blind."
Harry flinched and gave Sev a horrified look.
"What the fuck?" he hissed. "So he's not healed at all?!"
Sev shook Harry gently and stared directly in Harry's eyes with his warm ones.
"He is alive," he said, stressing the word. "Harry, Molly Weasley was planning her son's funeral and you prevented it. George Weasley owes you his life."
Harry considered what kind of life George would have stuck in eternal darkness and unable to even walk.
"I don't want his life," Harry said bluntly. He took a moment to look around the room they were in. It was definitely Sirius' room, as the framed photos on the walls proved. There was a big one of Harry and Sirius on Harry's birthday, both of them on their motorcycles and their arms over each others shoulders.
That had been a good day.
"Today is a good day as well, son," Sev said lightly. "In fact, I believe there are dozens of people downstairs waiting on you so they can celebrate your success."
"Dozens?" Harry asked.
"At least."
Harry scowled and pulled the comforter he'd kicked away earlier over them both.
"That sounds like a fuckin nightmare," he complained.
Sev chuckled and readjusted the pillows behind them to a more comfortable position without even once moving his arm from Harry's shoulders.
"Quite so," he agreed. "Rest, brat, we will face your devoted followers later."
Harry yawned, he felt exhausted. "Together?" he asked Sev. He rested his head on Sev's shoulder and thought about how he used to fit better when he'd been smaller.
Sev tilted his head to Harry's.
"Always."