He's the Raven (A Harry Potter Fanfiction)

Chapter 9: <Consequence>

the song is just a subtle way of summarizing this chapter. Enjoy, loves

His name was... is Harry.

Such a normal name, which betrayed the true meaning behind who Harry really was.

Blessed by death, and yet sometimes it felt more like a curse. Immortality should not be given to a mortal soul, it makes one yearn for death. But Harry hadn't reached that stage yet. No, not yet. He knew that eventually he would get there, but not now. He was still young.

A battlefield around him: blood of innocents and purity spilled everywhere. Bodies slumped everywhere. Children... children!... breathing their last breaths. As a version of George Washington had said before, watch the blood and the shit spray. Well... without the shit.

Tom Marvolo Riddle with that red glint in his eyes, his former beauty restored but his sanity broken. Lines... no, strings... attached to his limbs, making him look more like a puppet. He was injured in several places - an actual gaping wound in his stomach. His mind screamed to Harry's in pain and suffering, begging him to end him, to end it all, to help him.

Hogwarts utterly destroyed. The memories of every blood sacrificed floated past him and into the skies, a cloudless blue sky that cheerily taunted Harry with its vibrancy. 

Harry fell to his knees - numb with realization and agony. He shakily raised a dirtied hand to his face... he was crying. 

And in that instant, Fate played a cruel joke on him. His body slumped further into the dreamscape's ground as his mind withstood the onslaught of an infinite amount of timelines flashing through his head. He screamed, and his lungs collapsed. He tore at his head, and his hair fell off his head in locks. He cried, and blood red tears flowed down his cheeks, turning his vision red-

"HARRY! HARRY! WAKE UP!"

Harry jolted awake and promptly felt himself doubling over, holding a hand to his mouth. Something sticky was in his hand as he coughed harshly, and a metallic smell filled the air. Blood. He sluggishly looked at his saviour from his nightmares, noticing with grim interest that Draco Malfoy and Severus Snape stood over him, fear and concern written all over their faces. 

"G-get Tom."

"Wha...?" 

"Tom. T-Tom Marvolo R-Riddle."

Snape's eyes widened while a look of confusion fell over Draco's features. 

"Potter-"

"Oh come off it Professor, I'm your son. Please, get Tom..."

"Oh, how heartwarming."

The other two Slytherins jumped at the voice, and whipped out their wands at it. Harry laughed bitterly, facing the cloaked figure. 

"Shut up you daft being. Keep your boyfriend in line- he fucking gave me a horrible nightmare. Also - Jonathan Groff."

The being grunted in surprise, before his cloaked figure was abruptly replaced with a person with refined features and styled hair, all while being dressed in a suit. 

"Jonathan Groff... seriously?" 

"S-shut up. Let me have my boy crushes. Also- could y-you please get Tom?" Harry squeezed his eyes shut at the memory of what he'd seen overwhelm his features once again.

"Harry... are you okay...?" the fearful and concerned voice of Draco reached his ears. The boy who was never really a boy looked up at him with teary eyes. His hand slowly left his mouth, and everyone inhaled sharply/ gasped at the sticky red substance in his hand. Coughing feebly, he slumped down further in his bed, and smiled a terrible smile full of pain.

"No. But...I w-will be. E-eventually... Especially when T-Tom comes."

(pt 1)