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Connie · 05-02-2011, 06:08 AM

This is a One Shot taking place in the Headmaster’s Office just before Harry Potter (the only character in this ff) goes into the Forbidden Forrest to meet Voldemort.

My name is Connie, and this is my second writing experience here on SnitchSeeker.

Disclaimer: All things Harry Potter, and all things related to Harry Potter are the property of JK Rowling. I don’t take any credit of writing Harry Potter, only my own imagination of how things might have been in this particular scene, instead of the way she wrote it.
Title, Life Goes On Long After The Living Is Gone, was taken from the song, Jack and Diane, written and performed by John Mellencamp (also known as John Cougar Mellencamp) I hope you enjoy this One Shot.

Special thanks to Katie for setting my grammar correct.

Life Goes On Long After The Thrill Of Living Is Gone

After he watched Snape’s memories Harry raised his head from the Pensieve. As his short life flashed before him, the strength in every ounce of muscle in his body seemed to ebb away from him, and he sank slowly to the floor. His heart was pounding so hard he could feel each beat explode in all the pressure points of his body. The silence was deafening. Not a single portrait of past Headmasters of Hogwarts uttered a word or made any sound. He could have heard a pin drop, was it not for his heart pounding so hard. He could hear each beat scream out the injustice of living so short a time to give up living and seize death without a fight.

It wasn’t any of the times he was being bullied by Dudley, or his rough friends Harry started remembering. It wasn’t any of the times he was punished unfairly and sent to his cupboard and later his room, by the Dursley’s without his dinner he thought of. Nor did he think of any of the injustices done to him by Aunt Marge and her dog whenever they were there for a visit. And he didn’t think of the everyday abuse he endured at the hands of the Dursley’s. Harry wasn’t thinking of what he could remember while he was with the Dursley’s because he only existed there, it wasn’t what he called life at all.

Life for Harry began sometime late in his tenth year of his existence. One day he received a large envelope in the mail. Although he didn’t get to read it, there was a stirring within him. The very thought that someone knew him and had sent him mail was an indescribable feeling of life. It was this moment of experience, that he knew he had to have had a life at one time. He just couldn’t remember it because it was buried from so long ago. He remembered wondering who would know him well enough to know his space was a cupboard under the stairs. Well of course Dudley’s crude friends knew, but they wouldn’t be sending him any mail. And he was sure that since it was written in delicate handwriting it couldn‘t be any of them. That first letter and all of the ones that followed, was destroyed by his Uncle. All of them except that is for the one that was hand delivered, (while on the run from whomever was sending these letters) by a very large man just after midnight when Harry turned eleven. This was the time he considered to be the beginning of his life. From that moment through the nearly seven years that followed was a trill to live.

The pain in Harry’s heart intensified as he lay there not stirring or even breathing. Tears streamed out of the wells of his eyes onto the carpet as he lay prone on the cold dusty floor. The pain was great, yet he had not the strength to move. He wondered if maybe his heart might break right then and save himself the pain he would endure with whatever he would face at the hands of Voldemort.

“No” he thought.

He drew in a shallow shaky breath. Then he started gulping in lungs full of air. Still shaky, but he was at least breathing now.

“This isn’t about me.” He thought, still not moving.

As unfair as it was, he knew it was bigger than himself. There is an evil wizard who has gone beyond human kind who thinks he is above all others. He thinks he alone has the right to live and rule the world he lives in. All others are to serve him. Harry knew Voldemort had to be stopped. He just couldn’t understand why he had to die to do it. It seems to him that if he is to stop him, then his own death defeats that purpose. Harry wondered how could he possibly kill Voldemort if he is dead. Maybe he is able to kill the evil wizard, but dies in the process. But then he remembered the prophecy that one cannot live while the other lives.

“What does that mean then?” he thought.

He shook those inhibiting thoughts from his mind. He thought of every year since he started Hogwarts, he was nearly killed one way or another. Now Harry wondered if somehow he was s’pose to have killed Voldemort one of those times, and failed to because he didn’t die trying. He tried to think how he could have killed Voldemort that first year as he was face to face with him, (albeit, while Voldemort was on the back of Quirrell’s head.)

“I was just learning to be a wizard then. How could I have possibly known how to kill him?”

Things wasn’t making sense to him. He remembered grabbing Quirrell’s hand and it turning it to ash. Then he remembered gripping Quirrell’s face. The pain was so intense for Harry he had passed out. Dumbledore had said that Quirrell died, turned to ash.

“Why didn’t that kill Voldemort? He was attached to Quirrell because he didn’t have a body of his own. Why didn’t he die then? Was it because I lived through it? All the people who have died since that time would still be alive if I would have died then!”

He started feeling guilty and angry because he didn’t die when he was suppose to. He thought of how people would be living if he had done things the right way and died. Dumbledore would be alive. There wouldn’t have been a war, and all those people would still be alive. But, he wouldn’t have fallen in love with Ginny either.

He shook those thoughts from his mind, except the thoughts of Ginny. His heart stopped pounding so hard, and his breathing became normal.

“Ginny” he hopelessly cried in his mind.

He thought of her as a little girl growing up before his eyes and into the young woman she was becoming. He thought of the future. He would ask her to marry him. They would have children. Their life together would be great beyond anything imaginable. Why is it that he wouldn’t be allowed to have this life and have the love he missed out on, all his life. Who was he that he didn’t deserve to have a life, and have love? Dumbledore said he had love and it was his greatest power. Yet he knew not what that meant for sure. He definitely didn’t want to hug Voldemort to death.

Harry with great effort got up to a position where he was on one knee and sitting on the heel of his other foot. He reached in his shirt and pulled out his tattered and much worn Marauders’ Map. He opened it, as he had done countless times while searching for the Horcrux’s, to locate Ginny.

“Hang on,” he thought suddenly. “I didn’t die because he had the Horcrux’s. Yes, of course! Why didn’t I remember that?”

So many things were going through his mind he couldn’t think straight. Harry brought his gaze back to the map again. He put it to his face with his eyes closed, and smelled Ginny as fresh as if she was standing there with him. The smell comforted him. He remembered the birthday gift she had given him, and longed for her lips on his again. He wanted to hold her against him and hang on tight as though she could sustain his life.

“I’ll never hold her or kiss her again. We’ll never be married, or have children.” He thought as fresh tears flooded from his eyes.

He was starting to loose his nerve, wanting to let someone else kill Voldemort. and he could take Ginny to have the life he wanted. He justified his thoughts of rebellion with; What could it hurt for once in his life to have what he wanted. What he needed. Then he thought of the consequences of those actions. All of the Weasley’s would be hunted down and killed, as they were traitors and outlaws. Everyone who fought against Voldemort would be killed. With all that going on, how could he possibly think they could ever be happy. He knew they wouldn’t be. And besides that, he knew that Voldemort eventually would find them and kill them both.

And then he thought of the rest of the memory. He thought of Dumbledore’s plan although he didn’t fully understand it still. The plan was made without Harry’s knowledge or consent. He was to carry it out now even though he had failed to kill Nagini. Hermione and Ron knew what needed to be done to kill it. They would have to see to it that it was killed.

He thought of Professor Snape and the sacrifice he made since that awful night of betrayal. He thought how brave Professor Snape had been so that he, Harry, could fulfill the prophecy. He wanted Harry to live all those years, even protected him from death several times, though he hated him for being James Potter‘s son, and not his.

Harry folded the map and laid it on the desk. He would not be needing it anymore. Ginny would live and find love with somebody else and be happy. It would take time for her to heal from loosing Harry. He wasn’t being arrogant, he just knew of the deep love they had for each other, and you can’t just loose that and go on without healing. She would heal though, marry, and have children. They would be happy, and safe. He wanted this for her. This gave him the strength and determination to get up and walk out the door, and go into the Forrest to meet his death. The only thing he could think of that might kill Voldemort was this love Dumbledore kept saying was so powerful in him, would somehow rebound the killing curse back to Voldemort when he used it on him. But, he wouldn’t have the protection of his mothers’ love this time. He would die. It was the plan after all. He put on his invisibility cloak, and left the room.

05-02-2011, 06:08 AM	#1 (permalink)
Connie Puffskein Join Date: Aug 2009 Location: Florida Posts: 1,415 Hogwarts RPG Name: Janet Lynn Gordon Fifth Year	Life Goes On Long After The Thrill Of Living Is Gone - Sa13+ Werecats are people too! Reader of Fan Fictions This is a One Shot taking place in the Headmaster’s Office just before Harry Potter (the only character in this ff) goes into the Forbidden Forrest to meet Voldemort. My name is Connie, and this is my second writing experience here on SnitchSeeker. Disclaimer: All things Harry Potter, and all things related to Harry Potter are the property of JK Rowling. I don’t take any credit of writing Harry Potter, only my own imagination of how things might have been in this particular scene, instead of the way she wrote it. Title, Life Goes On Long After The Living Is Gone, was taken from the song, Jack and Diane, written and performed by John Mellencamp (also known as John Cougar Mellencamp) I hope you enjoy this One Shot. Special thanks to Katie for setting my grammar correct. Life Goes On Long After The Thrill Of Living Is Gone After he watched Snape’s memories Harry raised his head from the Pensieve. As his short life flashed before him, the strength in every ounce of muscle in his body seemed to ebb away from him, and he sank slowly to the floor. His heart was pounding so hard he could feel each beat explode in all the pressure points of his body. The silence was deafening. Not a single portrait of past Headmasters of Hogwarts uttered a word or made any sound. He could have heard a pin drop, was it not for his heart pounding so hard. He could hear each beat scream out the injustice of living so short a time to give up living and seize death without a fight. It wasn’t any of the times he was being bullied by Dudley, or his rough friends Harry started remembering. It wasn’t any of the times he was punished unfairly and sent to his cupboard and later his room, by the Dursley’s without his dinner he thought of. Nor did he think of any of the injustices done to him by Aunt Marge and her dog whenever they were there for a visit. And he didn’t think of the everyday abuse he endured at the hands of the Dursley’s. Harry wasn’t thinking of what he could remember while he was with the Dursley’s because he only existed there, it wasn’t what he called life at all. Life for Harry began sometime late in his tenth year of his existence. One day he received a large envelope in the mail. Although he didn’t get to read it, there was a stirring within him. The very thought that someone knew him and had sent him mail was an indescribable feeling of life. It was this moment of experience, that he knew he had to have had a life at one time. He just couldn’t remember it because it was buried from so long ago. He remembered wondering who would know him well enough to know his space was a cupboard under the stairs. Well of course Dudley’s crude friends knew, but they wouldn’t be sending him any mail. And he was sure that since it was written in delicate handwriting it couldn‘t be any of them. That first letter and all of the ones that followed, was destroyed by his Uncle. All of them except that is for the one that was hand delivered, (while on the run from whomever was sending these letters) by a very large man just after midnight when Harry turned eleven. This was the time he considered to be the beginning of his life. From that moment through the nearly seven years that followed was a trill to live. The pain in Harry’s heart intensified as he lay there not stirring or even breathing. Tears streamed out of the wells of his eyes onto the carpet as he lay prone on the cold dusty floor. The pain was great, yet he had not the strength to move. He wondered if maybe his heart might break right then and save himself the pain he would endure with whatever he would face at the hands of Voldemort. “No” he thought. He drew in a shallow shaky breath. Then he started gulping in lungs full of air. Still shaky, but he was at least breathing now. “This isn’t about me.” He thought, still not moving. As unfair as it was, he knew it was bigger than himself. There is an evil wizard who has gone beyond human kind who thinks he is above all others. He thinks he alone has the right to live and rule the world he lives in. All others are to serve him. Harry knew Voldemort had to be stopped. He just couldn’t understand why he had to die to do it. It seems to him that if he is to stop him, then his own death defeats that purpose. Harry wondered how could he possibly kill Voldemort if he is dead. Maybe he is able to kill the evil wizard, but dies in the process. But then he remembered the prophecy that one cannot live while the other lives. “What does that mean then?” he thought. He shook those inhibiting thoughts from his mind. He thought of every year since he started Hogwarts, he was nearly killed one way or another. Now Harry wondered if somehow he was s’pose to have killed Voldemort one of those times, and failed to because he didn’t die trying. He tried to think how he could have killed Voldemort that first year as he was face to face with him, (albeit, while Voldemort was on the back of Quirrell’s head.) “I was just learning to be a wizard then. How could I have possibly known how to kill him?” Things wasn’t making sense to him. He remembered grabbing Quirrell’s hand and it turning it to ash. Then he remembered gripping Quirrell’s face. The pain was so intense for Harry he had passed out. Dumbledore had said that Quirrell died, turned to ash. “Why didn’t that kill Voldemort? He was attached to Quirrell because he didn’t have a body of his own. Why didn’t he die then? Was it because I lived through it? All the people who have died since that time would still be alive if I would have died then!” He started feeling guilty and angry because he didn’t die when he was suppose to. He thought of how people would be living if he had done things the right way and died. Dumbledore would be alive. There wouldn’t have been a war, and all those people would still be alive. But, he wouldn’t have fallen in love with Ginny either. He shook those thoughts from his mind, except the thoughts of Ginny. His heart stopped pounding so hard, and his breathing became normal. “Ginny” he hopelessly cried in his mind. He thought of her as a little girl growing up before his eyes and into the young woman she was becoming. He thought of the future. He would ask her to marry him. They would have children. Their life together would be great beyond anything imaginable. Why is it that he wouldn’t be allowed to have this life and have the love he missed out on, all his life. Who was he that he didn’t deserve to have a life, and have love? Dumbledore said he had love and it was his greatest power. Yet he knew not what that meant for sure. He definitely didn’t want to hug Voldemort to death. Harry with great effort got up to a position where he was on one knee and sitting on the heel of his other foot. He reached in his shirt and pulled out his tattered and much worn Marauders’ Map. He opened it, as he had done countless times while searching for the Horcrux’s, to locate Ginny. “Hang on,” he thought suddenly. “I didn’t die because he had the Horcrux’s. Yes, of course! Why didn’t I remember that?” So many things were going through his mind he couldn’t think straight. Harry brought his gaze back to the map again. He put it to his face with his eyes closed, and smelled Ginny as fresh as if she was standing there with him. The smell comforted him. He remembered the birthday gift she had given him, and longed for her lips on his again. He wanted to hold her against him and hang on tight as though she could sustain his life. “I’ll never hold her or kiss her again. We’ll never be married, or have children.” He thought as fresh tears flooded from his eyes. He was starting to loose his nerve, wanting to let someone else kill Voldemort. and he could take Ginny to have the life he wanted. He justified his thoughts of rebellion with; What could it hurt for once in his life to have what he wanted. What he needed. Then he thought of the consequences of those actions. All of the Weasley’s would be hunted down and killed, as they were traitors and outlaws. Everyone who fought against Voldemort would be killed. With all that going on, how could he possibly think they could ever be happy. He knew they wouldn’t be. And besides that, he knew that Voldemort eventually would find them and kill them both. And then he thought of the rest of the memory. He thought of Dumbledore’s plan although he didn’t fully understand it still. The plan was made without Harry’s knowledge or consent. He was to carry it out now even though he had failed to kill Nagini. Hermione and Ron knew what needed to be done to kill it. They would have to see to it that it was killed. He thought of Professor Snape and the sacrifice he made since that awful night of betrayal. He thought how brave Professor Snape had been so that he, Harry, could fulfill the prophecy. He wanted Harry to live all those years, even protected him from death several times, though he hated him for being James Potter‘s son, and not his. Harry folded the map and laid it on the desk. He would not be needing it anymore. Ginny would live and find love with somebody else and be happy. It would take time for her to heal from loosing Harry. He wasn’t being arrogant, he just knew of the deep love they had for each other, and you can’t just loose that and go on without healing. She would heal though, marry, and have children. They would be happy, and safe. He wanted this for her. This gave him the strength and determination to get up and walk out the door, and go into the Forrest to meet his death. The only thing he could think of that might kill Voldemort was this love Dumbledore kept saying was so powerful in him, would somehow rebound the killing curse back to Voldemort when he used it on him. But, he wouldn’t have the protection of his mothers’ love this time. He would die. It was the plan after all. He put on his invisibility cloak, and left the room. Last edited by demented_death_eater; 08-02-2011 at 02:09 AM.