Title: My Immortal (Song by Evanessence)

Pairing: Harry/Ron

Genre: This isn't a happy fic (the song choice may give that away), Post OOTP, Angst, Character Death, General Despair (I don't know how else to put it!)

Spoilers: Really, if you haven't read OOTP by now, what are you doing?! (but still, there's only one tiny thing in here that may give the game away so be warned)

Rating: I don't know! there's no swearing, and no major slashy happenings. I'm going to go for an English PG.

Disclaimer: If I owned anything you read here, I wouldn't be the poor student that I am. Please don't sue me, I have no money anyway - and you can never take my imagination :o) ;o). Umm, anything else? Oh, yes!

Feedback: Yes please! let me know if you like it, I'm searching for approval from somewhere :o) waggy76@hotmail.com

Archive: Sure, if you want to :) Just let me know first please



My Immortal
by Some010day

#I'm so tired of being here
Suppressed by all my childish fears
And if you have to leave
I wish that you would just leave
Cause your presence still lingers here
And it won't leave me alone#

Harry sat on the cold stone floor looking out of the window, surveying the silent Hogwarts grounds with a heavy heart. It was 4am, the rest of his fellow 7th year Gryffindors were all sound asleep. Those that remained were asleep, anyway. For there were now 3 empty beds in the dormitory. Harry tore his eyes away and looked around the room, his eyes well adjusted to the dark now. Three empty beds stood unused, the beds of Seamus, Neville, and worst of all, Ron. Harry closed his eyes on the scene.

#These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time can not erase#

It had been three long weeks since Voldemort had turned up for the final battle. Harry had felt the warning in his scar long before he'd placed a slimy foot on the grounds and being the accomplished legalese's that he had become since Sirius' demise, broke into Voldemort's mind and knew what to expect. He had evacuated most of the school by the time the Death Eater's surrounded the exits. But some of his schoolmates would not leave. Some force ably refused to let Harry fight this battle alone. And now Harry could never say thank you to some of them, for they were dead.

Harry had not slept much since that afternoon. Much like the image of the door to the department of mysteries, the vision of the friends he'd come to regard as his family in various stages of death haunted him every time his eyes slid closed. He saw it all. Seamus, screaming out in anguish as blood from his wounds ran freely into the grass. Neville, who's fighting skills had come on so much since he'd come face to face with his parent's torturous, betrayed by a simple slip of the foot that lead to his early end. Harry had heard the spell. Neville didn't stand a chance. And Ron, who had been faithfully at Harry's side all the time. Ron, who had kissed Harry and had told him that everything would be alright as they waited for Voldemort. Ron, who had fought with every single ounce of his strength. Ron, being held aloft as though he were a trophy and then dropped, unconscious. Ron, who in the time it took Harry to blink, was blown apart by the spell uttered by Voldemort as though he were complimenting him. Ron. Gone. Harry's blood ran cold at the memory. Harry's blood always ran cold at the memory.

#When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have all of me#

It had been shortly after the events of Harry's fifth year that they had got together. Ron had found Harry one night, in the midst of a crippling nightmare, struggling and sweating and had held him close, whispering that it would all be alright, that he was here, that Harry was safe when he was there. He held him close and soothed him in the way that he'd always wanted to. Harry woke up feeling surprisingly peaceful and leant into Ron, welcoming the support and presence of his best friend and longing for more from him, as he always had. And then Ron kissed him, slow and uncertain, and that had been it. They had been inseparable before then, but since that night they shared a deeper connection, one that meant that they were rarely apart: They were in love.

#You used to captivate me by your resonating light
Now I'm bound by the life you left behind
Your face it haunts my once pleasant dreams
Your voice it chased away all the sanity in me#

Harry knew, he just knew that he would never be in love again. All the love in his soul had been buried along with his best friend and lover. He closed his eyes on the tears that flowed so easily now. Memories that he didn't want to see, yet never wanted to lose flooded his brain for the millionth time. Those brown eyes, that shone so brightly with love and happiness - he'd never see them again. That shocking red hair that marked Ron out as the proud Weasley that he was - he'd never run his hands through it, never smell it, never place a kiss on it again. Those lips, those delicate lips that bruised if Harry kissed them too hard, that left a trail of fire wherever they touched Harry's body - he'd never kiss them again. Those hands, that Harry had desperately clung to as they stood in front of their fellow housemates and told them of their love, that had squeezed his own hand back and given him all the courage he needed - He'd never feel them against his own again. He would surely go mad with grief. Nothing anyone said to him had even lifted an iota of the weight of the loss that had settled on his chest.

#These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time can not erase#

And so here he was, the boy-who-lived turned saviour-of-the-world. Here he was, drowning in his tears, trying for all his might to stop himself screaming out and waking everyone up - for why should they sleep soundly when he could barely blink without feeling that wave of pain? He wasn't aware that not one of his housemates was asleep. They were as awake as he was, hearing his sobs and unable to help him for they too, were held prisoner by their own sadness. They'd known Harry through grief before, they'd known him through unquestionable happiness and delight. And they knew, each and every one of them knew, they if time were reversed and things could have been different, that they would have gladly stepped into Ron's shoes, for no man should have to feel so much pain and sorrow in his life as what Harry had to live with.

Harry had been treated as though he were made of glass before. He'd had people ignoring him outright before. But never before had he been glad of it. Dumbledore had called Harry to his office once he had recovered and was released from the hospital wing. He'd asked him if he wanted to remain at school, or go back to Grimmauld Place, the home that Harry had adopted two years before. The thought of being alone in the house that Ron had become such a part of, sleeping alone in the room that had become theirs, surrounded by memories of both Ron and Sirius made Harry's heart almost stop beating. To no-one's surprise, he chose to remain at Hogwarts. To the students who knew what had happened, he was part hero-part unluckiest man in the world. To those who had read the Daily Prophet's account of the events, Harry was an all-out God. The paper had casually left out the fact that Harry might as well have been killed too, for without Ron by his side, he was barely alive as it was. Overall, no-one knew how to act around him, over-exited first years were warned off by knowing students, and those knowing students were warned off by their own conscious and fear of upsetting their already fragile friend. Harry was left alone to try and heal, all the while spiralling deeper and deeper into his despair.

#When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have all of me

I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone
But though you're still with me
I've been alone all along#

Ron knew of the prophecy. Harry had told him a few weeks after they had become lovers. He had been keeping a slight distance between himself and Ron, desperate not to fall too deeply, for at the back of his mind was always the threat that Ron would never want to be with someone that was either on borrowed time or would end up becoming a murderer. But he need not have worried. Ron was shocked, of course, but had simply held Harry tightly and told him that no matter what, they would always be together. At the beginning, Harry was bracing himself for what could be their last day together. He savoured every morning that they woke up together in one another's arms. He relished every kiss, every time they made love. He lived for every time that Ron told him that he loved him. And now he had all his memories that had to last him a lifetime, for he never, ever expected to be the one left behind.

Having Ron made him train harder, work more fiercely in his preparations for the final battle, he now had to win, he had to survive so that he could go back to Ron. He never knew that Ron would not be there to go back to. He begged him, pleaded with him not to stay with him for the fight, he had set up a safe house for him, so that he would be safe. But of course, Ron wouldn't listen, he had no intention of sitting somewhere knowing the one he loved was fighting the Dark Lord alone. That was the Weasley way, that was his Gryffindor courage, that was his downfall. Harry loved him for it, and he lost him for it.

Harry stood up slowly and made his way back to his bed. Another long, long night was coming to an end.

#When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have all of me#


Some010day