Fic: No Hiding Place book Five: High in the Sky (27/28)

[sua_lay]

Title: No Hiding Place: Book Five: High In The Sky (27/28)
Author: Rimau Sua Lay
Rating: overall NC-17, Angst, Drama, Action/Adventure, First Time
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairings: Harry/Snape, Ron/Draco, (Sirius/Remus)
Date: December 2002 - May 2007
Disclaimers: Not mine, borrowed without permission, am not making any money. Please don't sue. Sherbet Lemon?
Summary for Book Five: - It's time to try to save the world. Fools and idiots may be the wizards' only hope. Revenge does indeed taste strange. Kinda furry.
Warning: This part contains deaths, gore, total stupidity, explicit sex between men, disturbing themes and angst.

The earlier parts of the fic can be found here.

Part 27

The tendrils of destruction went through all the wizarding world. Dark creatures cowered in their lairs, knowing that they were once again alone. It was almost as if the air itself shimmered with the echo of green fire.

On the battleground, Death Eaters were suddenly squirming in agony as their Dark Marks burned for the last time.

Those strong enough to run turned around and fled Hogwarts ground. Others, too dismayed by their ultimate loss, simply stood there, eyes vacant of all thoughts.

Snape raised his head, gaze unfocused. He could almost feel the earth shift, the ancient stones underneath him shuddering with the power of Voldemort's destruction. Here, in the basement of the Malfoy Mansion, it almost seemed like a loss instead of a victory, the darkness gathered here moaning with his death.

"What.... What's going on?" Neville asked quietly. He couldn't find the strength to move anymore, his life seeping slowly away. The sudden way the whole world seemed to shake had registered in him as a prelude of passing through the veil.

Voice hollow, Snape muttered, "Voldemort is dead." He felt completely empty. It had nothing to do with the destruction of the Dark Lord. He would never grieve his death.

He was feeling unbearable fear inside, stunned by the emotion. Now that Voldemort was gone, where was Harry? Everyone had been so convinced that the final battle between their forces would be a fight to the death. He'd always wondered if it was true, knowing just exactly how powerful Voldemort was.

Sitting here in the near dark with the dying young man next to him, he hoped Harry was still alive. It didn't really matter if he was never found here amongst the ruins; he wasn't the one who deserved to enjoy this victory and live a happy life. Voldemort's death didn't change everything for him, but Harry deserved to live.

"Good..." Whispering the word out with joy, Neville closed his eyes again, the sound of his breathing getting fainter with every exhale.

Snape didn't say anything. He sat there, listening. When all the sound died, leaving the small cell as silent as a tomb, he leaned back against the wall.

There were horrors and losses that went beyond tears. Snape had never found any comfort in crying, feeling the grief as a choking sensation in his throat, and there was no relief of tears for him now.

Growling out a curse, he wished he had the energy to destroy something. It would take away some of the helplessness he felt witnessing this one more senseless death.

Voldemort was gone. No one else should have to suffer.

Slowly, the dark magic embedded to the very bedrock started to seep out. Without the focal point to keep it here, it faded away, leaving nothing behind. The glow on the walls flickered and then disappeared as well, leaving Snape in utter darkness with nothing but Neville Longbottom's dead body as his company.

 

The first person to arrive at the scene was a young Auror, his face pale but eyes shining.

Harry thought he looked familiar, but there had been too many faces like his for him to really recognize him. He nodded at the Auror, unable to say anything that would make any sense. Then again why bother with words? It was only too clear what had happened here.

The Auror looked around, blinking as he saw the blood on Harry's hands and on the ground, recognizing the pile of black silk as the remains of a body a moment later. "Is that... Voldemort?" He said the name as if he was still half afraid it would summon the Dark Lord in front of him, alive and powerful.

Harry nodded.

He was too exhausted for explanations or introductions or anything, and then it dawned to him that he did indeed know the young Auror when he turned around and vomited on the ground. It was a familiar sight.

"Yeah." His voice sounded weird in his own ears, but Harry could commiserate with the Auror well.

Rubbing his hands on his torn robes, he wondered if he could somehow get the blood off his hands before other people arrived. He didn't want to shock anyone else.

"Harry Potter!"

Since his name was yelled with obvious glee, Harry didn't even tense, and then he was surrounded by a group of witches and wizards, all a part of his army, all smiling at him.

Harry swallowed. He was safe, they were all safe now. "Yeah." Funny how he couldn't manage anything beyond that, simply affirming anything they might want to say.

"Merlin's beard! What the hell happened here?" asked someone with a hushed voice.

People were already milling around, most ignoring everything but their hero who was staggering towards a tree as if unable to stand on his own and the bloodied mess on the ground with bits of a broken wand still protruding out of its chest.

"Is that... Is that?" The stutter made Flitwick's voice sound almost unrecognizable as he pushed his way towards the corpse. "Is that truly the Dark Lord?"

One of the wizards actually went to poke the remains of the dead wizard with his foot. "Yeah. And he's dead."

There was an awed silence, as everyone turned to look at Harry.

"What happened here?"

Harry didn't know how he could ever explain it all. It felt like he'd engaged the fight with Voldemort ages ago, their battle raging for aeons, but there was the sun still shining from the sky and he realized it had probably just taken minutes instead of hours.

Years of planning, months of training, and then it had really come to this. His throat hurt with the need to let the hysterical laughter out.

"Are you stupid or what?" A wizard glared at Flitwick as if he thought the small professor was totally out of his mind. "Like you can't see it for yourself! Harry Potter has destroyed Voldemort!"

Agreeing murmur came from all around.

"No, I..." Harry didn't want them to say things like that for they were lies. "It didn't happen like that..." He tried to make them listen.

It was a futile attempt.

Smiling brightly, a woman appeared next to him. "I saw everything! You-Know-Who was coming towards the castle, already on Hogwarts grounds, and Harry Potter stopped him. Just like that, with a single curse!" She made a very familiar swish and flick gesture with her hand. "And the Dark Lord died. Just like that!"

Nausea washed over Harry. He wished it had happened like that. Wished no one else had died. "No, you got it all wrong..."

"Three cheers for Harry Potter!" The man with torn robes waved his hands in the air as the crowd cheered.

Harry leaned against the tree, closing his eyes as if that could shut the insanity out. "I didn't do it like that. It wasn't me." The words came out as a sigh, but even if he'd shouted them out, no one would have listened to him.

The crowd yelled and screamed, Three cheers became ten. Some people were crying, hugging each other while the most hysterical ones even tried to hug their hero.

And Harry stood there, completely drained.

 

The battlefield was a chaos. Only a moment ago, there had been a war raging here, people trying to kill each other. Now there ware only Aurors and members of the Order guarding the barely conscious Death Eaters.

Finally letting his wand lower, Draco Malfoy looked around.

His robes were torn and his back was really complaining against any sudden movement, but he was alive. It was almost unbelievable. He'd been so certain this would mean the end and now he was alive.

A very silly grin spread to his lips. It was accompanied by a relieved sigh. The final battle against Voldemort and his people seemed to be over and by Merlin! He was not dead.

"That was some fighting, Malfoy."

He glanced over his shoulder to see Bill Weasley smile at him. The redhead looked exhausted, but there was a foolish grin on his face as well. "Yeah. Nice curses." He made a gesture with his hand and refused to be embarrassed by the complete idiocy of his comment.

Bill seemed to take it as a compliment. "Well you need to know them to break them." Radiating with happiness he clasped Draco's shoulder. "Well done."

It really shouldn't have meant anything, but Draco almost beamed back at him. "You too."

They stood there, grinning at each other for a moment before the world reappeared around them in the form of another redhead limping towards them. Draco watched the brothers hug tight, Bill's hands clamping convulsively on Charlie's back.

He turned away to look at the battlefield, trying to pinpoint another Weasley.

There were too many people around, yelling and hugging and walking here and there. Draco recognized some of them, but there was no sign of the familiar face he was looking for.

He knew he should go and try to find out what had happened earlier with Arthur Weasley and his father, but somehow he couldn't move away just yet. One thing at the time, and this couldn't really wait.

Still holding his wand loosely in his hand, he didn't turn around when Bill Weasley's voice called out, "Dad!" his voice far too happy for there to be any question of the fate of their new Minister. Draco didn't want to think about it now, he was going to wait and see how it was with the Weasleys before thinking about what it meant to have Arthur Weasley standing there alive.

People came and went, no one really doing anything productive, except for a small group of Aurors who were herding the few surviving Death Eaters towards the castle. After a few muttered words to his sons, Arthur Weasley rushed after them to make sure their prisoners would not be harmed.

Draco watched and waited.

"Malfoy!"

When the familiar voice finally yelled out his name, he almost brought his wand up. Turning around, he saw the redhead unentangle himself from his brothers and then march straight at him. "Weasley."

He wasn't even surprised by the tingle in his stomach at the sight of Ron Weasley alive.

Ron stopped a few feet from Malfoy, suddenly not knowing how to greet him after all. He almost offered his hand before realizing how silly that would be now that he'd already kissed the git in front of witnesses. Had it really been just a few hours ago? Somehow it felt like longer.

"It's good to see you alive." The words escaped him as he wrapped his arms around Draco, the hug just as tight as the ones he'd given his brothers.

He felt the strong arms come around him as well.

Swallowing hard, he muttered in Malfoy's ear, "I... My father killed your father." He didn't know what else to say, remembering the wooden expression on his father's face and the way Malfoy seemed pleased to see him and there was no way he couldn't blurt the words out right now before he had to actually look at Malfoy again.

The arms tightened around him. "Yeah. I know." Draco closed his eyes, not wanting to see anything right now, focusing on this alone.

"I should probably say I'm sorry, but I can't. I'm not sorry he's dead." And that was the one thing Ron kind of did feel sorry about. He didn't say it though. No words could make it all right.

He could feel Malfoy sigh, and wondered if he'd shove him away next or even hit him. It would kind of be okay. He would want to punch someone if he was Malfoy.

"I'm not sorry either."

The soft whisper came as a complete shock, and Ron had to let go and move back just so that he could look into Malfoy's face. He could only see the faintest hint of sadness there, almost overwhelmed by the relief, shaking his head at both.

He'd never understand Malfoy.

Draco could see the familiar slack jawed look on Weasley's face, and it made him smile a little. At least some things in the world were the same, and even if Weasley's strong arms still wrapped around him was a new thing, he could probably deal with that.

There weren't many things he couldn't face now that he was finally free.

 

The cheering crowd heralded Harry's arrival. Seeing the destruction on the field, most people stopped cheering and simply stood there, staring in dismay. Some even went to see if they could help, while one of the young witches refused to let go of Harry's torn robes until a mediwitch gently helped her to sit down.

"Harry!" Ron choked out, his face hurting with the insane grin that replaced the sadness. Not even realizing he was still holding onto Draco's arm, he rushed to hug his friend and managed barely not to tumble them all to the ground.

It was the first hug that meant something, and Harry held onto Ron as hard as he could. "Hi, Ron."

"You're alive! I can't bloody believe it! You're fucking alive!" Not caring that there were ladies present and that his brothers would probably comment on his words later on, Ron laughed out loud. "Did you kill Voldemort?"

There was not really a need to ask that. The earlier cheers had been enough to tell everyone that Harry Potter had indeed rid their world of the Dark Lord.

Harry froze and then tried to pull away. When Ron refused to let go, he sighed, "I did. But I didn't kill him alone. Percy did most of the work."

"Percy?" Ron repeated the name, finally stepping back enough to see Harry's face. He could read from the misery in his eyes that it was not good news. Apparently so could his other brothers, who were now closing in on them. "Oh, fuck..."

Nodding, Harry stood there. He saw Charlie lose his balance as the cursed leg gave in and then Bill was there, trying to help him up. George was shaking his head in disbelief.

Harry watched without words as all the four surviving Weasley brothers crumbled down in shared grief.

It was too much to keep watching for long, and he turned to Draco, who was turning away from the Weasleys as well, as if giving them privacy. "I'm glad you're alive." It was the only thing he could really offer.

"You too."

Harry knew those two simple words meant more to him than the dozens of cheers he'd already heard.

He didn't want to ask if Draco was all right, knowing the question would be utterly stupid. No one was really all right, though in time most would be. Maybe. He didn't know if he would be one of the lucky who might get through today, no matter how he'd survived the battle itself.

"I should try to find..." He couldn't say the names or add that he wanted to see if they were still alive. His family was out there, and even though he didn't want to leave the Weasleys like this, he had to go and look for them.

Draco nodded. "Go. I'll stay here."

"Yeah." Harry knew that was probably best. With a light touch on Draco's shoulder, he left him to search for the other survivors.

It was actually surprisingly easy to find Remus. He was standing near the Quidditch pitch, looking worriedly at the forest.

Walking towards him was as if Harry was living through one of his nightmares. He could see fallen people everywhere; those wearing the polished masks as well as people he'd known most his life. He tried to ignore them, but how could he ever shut out the familiar faces?

They would probably be with him forever, joined by the keening sounds of grief surrounding him.

"Thank Merlin! Harry!" Exhausted joy clear in his voice, Remus took a step towards him. He looked like he'd just spent the night howling at the full moon, so tired he could barely stand.

Harry knew the feeling.

Relieved that not everything was lost, Harry forced a wan smile on his lips as he reached Remus, not looking beyond him at Lavender who was cradling Parvati's limp form in her arms and crying. He didn't want to know. He just wanted to revel in the relief, even if it lasted just for a moment. "Remus!"

"You're alive!" Not hesitating for a moment, Remus pulled Harry into a weak hug.

Harry held on to Remus. "Are you all right?" He had no idea what could have made him this weak. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine. Just a little tired. The Death Eaters brought Lethifolds with them, and Hermione and I had to deal with half a dozen of them." Remus sighed. "And she's fine too. She went to see if she could help Poppy." He had no doubts what would have been the next question.

"Good." One less worry. Harry kept an arm around Remus, doubting the man could stand unaided. He didn't want to test that; Sirius would be really unhappy if he let something happen to Remus now.

The thought made him frown. "Remus? Where is Sirius?" He should be right here.

Swaying slightly, Remus choked out, "I don't know."

Harry bit his lip, refusing to believe anything was really wrong before he had the proof of it. It was the only way to stay sane right now. "We'll find him." It came out instinctively, like so many soothing half truths he'd told Sirius over the years.

It was sad to see how much his words clearly meant to Remus.

"You think so?" There was terrible hope in Remus' voice.

For a moment Harry couldn't say anything, unable to force the words out just in case they were a lie. Then something flickered at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, and he could nod. "I know so."

"Really?"

"Yes." Raising his other hand to point, he said, "Look."

He felt Remus sag against him as the familiar black form came loping towards them. "Sirius!" He didn't know why the man had chosen his Animagus form now, and didn't care. He was just happy to see him alive.

The dog didn't make a sound, he just ran faster. His left ear was torn, the side of his head bloodied, but it didn't seem to hinder him at all. There was something small and brown and very limp hanging from his mouth, swinging from side to side as he ran.

"Thank Merlin!" Not even ashamed by the sob escaping him, Remus reached out. He'd been terrified ever since Sirius had disappeared in the middle of the battle, fearing the worst. Seeing Snuffles approach made his knees even weaker, and only Harry's arm kept him standing.

Snuffles made a muffled sound, looking at Remus before stopping in front of Harry. He stood there for a moment, his tail wagging from side to side in a show of glee. Then he coughed out the thing he'd been carrying in his mouth.

A small furry bundle lay still on the ground.

Harry stared at the thing, not even registering Remus slow slide towards the ground. He barely heard his murmured words and ignored the way Snuffles was now enfolded in a tight embrace.

He knew the small form. It had been on the edge of his awareness for so long; first as a humorous part of his best friend, then a memory of pure white hatred. The source of paranoia and suspicion. He had never understood this creature or his motives and now it was lying in front of him, so clearly dead.

Turning his gaze from the dead rat to Snuffles, Harry's eyes misted over for the first time after the awful fight. "Sirius..." He stepped forward, careful not to trample Remus. "Thank you!"

Tears slid down his cheeks. It was all over now.

Snuffles let out a happy bark, licking Harry's outstretched hand and then Remus' face. Somewhere between licks he blurred a little, and then Sirius was there, holding Remus tight. He looked a bit embarrassed with his tongue still trailing half way up Remus' cheek.

Remus didn't seem to mind at all.

 

They kept bringing the wounded in.

Those who knew how to help, went to work. Those who didn't, stayed out of the way. Madam Pomfrey was proving to be an excellent general herself, ordering mediwitches and -wizards around, organizing an impromptu infirmary right there on the lawn when the real one inside Hogwarts couldn't take in any more people.

Not everyone's hurt needed medical attention. There were small groups sitting here and there by the courtyard, talking quietly or just being together. Most of the people Harry called family were now there, and Harry wished he could join them and stop thinking.

But there were still so many unaccounted for. Some of the small groups sent to destroy the larger Death Eater strongholds had returned in time to actually fight in the battle, some might never come back. There were people coming and going, and Harry was desperately trying to find that one familiar figure.

He refused to think he might never find him.

Finally someone mentioned the Mansion, more mediwitches rushing here and there as it became obvious they would be needed.

Harry could only stand and wait.

There were Ministry officials everywhere, both those who had fought and those who were here to take care of the aftermath, adding to the chaos. They asked questions no one had answers to, scribbled down things on rolls of parchments, and all gave wide berth to their hero whose mere demeanor was enough to quell even the most eager worshipper.

The torn robes, wild look and blood smudges on his hands might've had something to do with it.

"Harry!"

His name had been called out so many times, it was a miracle he even recognized it anymore. This however was a voice he knew, turning him to seek for a familiar witch in the crowd.

"Arabella?" Harry breathed out, shocked to see how exhausted she looked with fine rock dust on her face, trails of sweat leading from forehead to chin. "What happened?"

She wheezed, unable to speak properly after all the exertion. "The Mansion. Some of it collapsed while we were still inside."

All the happiness from seeing his friends alive turned into an ice cold feeling in the pit of Harry's stomach. "How?" It wasn't really the question he wanted to ask, but it was too difficult to even form it in his mind, impossible to squeeze it out.

Arabella wheezed again, doubling over as wracking coughs shook her whole body. There was blood on her lips as she finally stopped coughing.

"Mediwizard!" Harry yelled.

"They're coming," someone said next to him, pointing at the distance. "They're bringing more people from the Malfoy Mansion right now."

The first thing Harry could see was a mediwitch floating someone on stretchers. His heart started to race as he saw a somber look on her face, mirrored on everyone following her.

Whoever was injured, it was bad.

His gaze locked on the pale face surrounded by messy black hair, and he let out a desperate little sound. Oh no. He wasn't sure he would be able to survive yet another loss like this. "Neville?"

One of the mediwizards shook his head slightly as he moved to check on Arabella. "I'm sorry, Mr. Potter." He sounded both sad and tired. Like everyone seemed to be right now.

Harry could only stare, his eyes impossibly wide. He couldn't do anything, couldn't cry or even let out the scream building inside.

Whatever he'd feared when he'd thought about this day, this was worse than most of his nightmares. All these dead and wounded, the empty and desolate looks on people all around him. His friends dying or losing loved ones.

This was their victory, for the good of their world, so that people could now live in peace. Their glorious day that would be celebrated from now on. The thought made him want to vomit.

The tears he'd cried earlier had been of joy, and now others more bitter were threatening to fall. Ignoring the worried looks coming from the mediwizards, he pulled his robe tighter around him, as if sheltering himself from whatever blow would come next. "What about the others?"

Asking was more frightening than anything, for as long as he didn't know, there could still be hope.

A tired voice rang out from behind the group of Aurors following Neville's stretcher. "There were a few casualties, but most of us did survive. And there is no way anyone can use the Mansion as a refuge again."

Harry stared. Overwhelmed by exhaustion, fear, hope and terrible grief over all the people who had died today, he could only stand there for a moment.

Then he took a step towards the man. Then another one, until he was practically flinging himself at Snape.

"You're alive!" Not caring for a second that Snape might be appalled by this, he held him as tight as he could. "You're alive!"

"What a brilliant deduction." Snape's voice trembled slightly, but that was the only sign of the relief that flooded over him. He'd been so certain that Harry was dead, he couldn't almost believe that he was really here. The fact that he was making a scene in public didn't matter, not this time.

He wrapped his arms around Harry, ignoring everything but this moment.

Taking the embrace as a permission, Harry snuggled closer and said, "We did it. Voldemort is dead! And we're alive!" Nothing else mattered now.

Snape sighed, "Yes, I know." It was more relief than real happiness, but he was going to revel in the emotion anyway. From now on, the past that would come to haunt him would truly be just a memory and not a reality of darkness. "I know."

Maybe there was something else that did matter now. Harry looked up, his gaze a bit wild. He was too happy and too sad and too everything at the moment to think clearly, but there was something he knew with absolute certainty. "You look awful!"

There were abrasions and cuts on Snape's face, fine rock dust covering his shoulders and hair.

Snape snorted, the sound turning into a sneeze.

Still staring, Harry added, "I love you!" It was said with stubborn determination and was about as far from a sweet declaration as it could get.

The dark gaze held nothing but weary amusement as Snape said, "I know that too, Harry. I'm not completely brain dead. Some things are rather obvious, including Gryffindor emotionalism."

Harry could see the faintest flicker of a smile on Snape's face, and knew that if he made a comment about Slytherins being just as bad, for once the man couldn't even pretend to be offended. "Good."

"It may just be that I don't completely hate you either."

Interpreting Snape's words correctly as a declaration parallel to his own, Harry closed his eyes and held Snape tight.

---

Comments

[xikum.livejournal.com]

How...odd. My vision seems to be blurring repeatedly... and I keep needing to clean my glasses...

[sua-lay.livejournal.com]

*hands a handkerchief*

[xikum.livejournal.com]

There. A bit better now. I was so sad to see Neville die, that way,after the fact. At least he got to know that VOldie died... but still, I was so sure that they would bot get out alive. It is so unfair - the end of the Longbottom line. Damn.
But I am very, very glad that Snpae got out alive. That would have been too much. And I am afraid that he will not be so lucky in canon... I like it better your way.

[sua-lay.livejournal.com]

It's the pointlessness that hits you the hardest. Dying heroically is one thing. Simply dying... :(

There was no way I could ever kill Snape in this fic. He probably expected to die, though. That does seem to be the price most former villains fools who followed the darkness have to pay to redeem themselves.

*fingers crossed about canon*