Tomarry Oneshots

Of Mice and Men

Harry and Voldemort.

Voldemort and Harry.

Both raised their wands, connecting in the middle, for what the wizarding world hoped would be the last time.

A blinding flash of light spread through the ruins of the great hall, before it disappeared.

Screams and shouts erupted.

They were gone.

No one noticed the little mice, one black, one white, scurrying as fast as they could, away from the trampling feet.

All that was running through Harry's mind was panic. He had to get away! He had to!

Away, away, away!

Danger, his mind screamed.

And indeed, giant feet were everyone.

Small hills too, and beetles scattered before his paws.

Paws?

The ground shook, and his ears rang. Noise was everywhere.

He had to get away!

Harry curled up in a cave, his ears flat, and his entire body trembling.

For a long time, he sat there, paralysed, before slowly returning to sense.

Pulling himself up, he noticed he was standing on all fours.

Sitting back on his haunches, he inspected his paw.

It was tiny, and dainty.

His ears perked up, listening.

The wind whistled, and the faint sound of scurrying met his ears.

Harry peeped outside, and his breath caught.

Long blades of grass glistened in the sunlight, dew dripping off of them. Flowers opened, producing the sweet fragrance of spring. Ants moved to and fro, collecting the odd nut, and moving it. Birds sang high up in the tree tops.

It was beautiful.

Harry watched for several minutes in awe, utterly dazzled by the sight.

His nose twitched, and he inhaled the scents around him.

He could smell everything he had seen, along with earth, worms, and a fading smell of a mouse.

How Harry could tell what he was smelling was beyond him, but he trusted whatever this animal's instincts were.

How had he missed the beauty of nature?

It was amazing.

His stomach ached suddenly, and he realised he hadn't eaten a decent meal in a long time.

He was also thoroughly exhausted from fighting Voldemort.

He froze.

Had Voldemort died?

Harry didn't know, and he had no way of finding out.

Hopefully someone else would end the job.

Right.

Back to food.

Harry licked his paw before smoothing some of his fur - an instinctual movement that was quite nice - as he thought.

Maybe if he knew what he was, he would know what he could eat.

That meant finding a puddle, or a river.

Harry hesitantly moved out, his instincts making him crouch low, and move from hiding place to hiding place.

He moved like this for a while, coming across ladybugs, flies, and rabbit droppings on his way.