dumbledore

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*TIME SKIP TO RIGHT AFTER HIS DEATH*

Harry was shaking. He wasn't crying, he wasn't even speaking. He just shook as he looked at the body of his last mentor. His last father figure. Dead.

Dead and cold on the dry earth.

His real dad. His real mom. Sirius. And now, Dumbledore.

This was too much.

Too much to take all at once.

What was the point, what was there to live for? What was there to fight for of the beacon of light that everyone used to guide them forward was gone?

Harry began to hyperventilate. Breathing was becoming constricted and the world was spinning—too many people—nothing he did could help himself, and about fifty students and teachers and Aurors and Order members were crowding around Dumbledore's body and himself. A crowd. Too many people. Too many whispers and shuffling feet. Too many gasps and mourners, murmuring judgments and declarations, closing around him like they were going to catch him.

He couldn't take it, and he started backing up like a frightened animal. He felt stupid, he knew he looked it, but right now, all he could really think about was to keep breathing because, god, how the fuck do you forget to breathe?

"C'mon, Harry, you're fine!"

"Is that Harry Potter?"

"Get up!"

"Is he alright?"

What's wrong with him?" One first year whispered, "He looks like he's seen a ghost!"

Why were there so many goddamn people surrounding him—It was too much, too much to feel and comprehend and just so fucking surreal and terrifying—God, how do you breathe correctly—Harry was trembling as Dumbledore's eyes stared glassy eyed back at him—why were they just closing in on him like that?!—Harry could feel himself getting dizzy—is the world spinning?

He ran.

He was running up to the castle, heaving and breathing so quickly he thought for a split second he was going to have a heart attack. His head was hot and his scar was practically screaming in pain, almost bleeding.

Eyes blinded with tears of despair and rage, he couldn't see the other death eaters or even students, but he could see and point out that man anywhere. He saw the bat like cloak. Snape. Severus Snape. Something erupted in his stomach that had never before happened. Fury. Cold, brutal anger.

Madness so strong that Harry just took off after the running form of snape in the background. His robes billowing from behind him, huge scar on his arm, numbing pain from his scar, and blood coming from his mouth-he didn't feel any pain. Just anger.

Harry heard a faint yell from what he recognized to be Ginny, and his heart pounded, hoping she was alright. If she was hurt he would never forgive himself. He couldn't take that, it would be his fault completely.

So he looked back and he breathed again.

She was fine but waving her arms, telling him to come back. He couldn't, so he ignored the yells and sprinted.

Harry took out his wand and yelled, "Stupefy!" Snape blocked the spell.

"Impedimenta!"

Blocked.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

Blocked.

"Close your mind, Potter!" Snape taunted, his wicked eyes boring into Harry's.

Forever, GinnyWhere stories live. Discover now