Ef hún er leyfð þá myndi ég segja að hún væri bönnuð innan svona…14.
A/N: I decided to try and write another entry for the challenge. I don't even know whether it is allowed… Oh, well. And I'm going to try and have a plot for the story, and be original. Try. And I'm going to try and have it serious. And if you haven't figured it out, I haven't yet written a word in the story. But here it is. Enjoy!
WARNING: There is some very graphic descreptions of violence in the story.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor anything else that isn't mine and is in the story.
Unconditional Love
by
rufiel
Cold. Cold as you've never felt before. When you go outside on that chilly Christmas Eve you think you've experienced cold, but you haven't. From the very tip of your fingers into the deepest place in your heart, the cold is. In addition to this, the place is wet all over, and if there's one thing that doesn't improve cold, that is wetness. It would maybe be bearable, if not for the fact that there only seemed to be daylight that provided any light at all, and even at day, you could barely see your hands. Usually, when you're trapped in those conditions, you try to warm up by thinking of all those good times you've had in the past. But not here. Those kind of thoughts were pulled away when they came. This was Azkaban.
Harry was lying on the stone floor. Not that he could do anything else, that is. His cell was completely empty. Not even a poor excuse for a bed in there. And as for lying…well, he did not have enough energy to stand.
Not that he had expected anything fair from him.\i0 How on earth Lucius Malfoy had been elected Ministerafter breaking out of Azkaban, he did not know. But Dumbledore? Surely he couldn't think he was capable of this? But surely he did. One could think Voldemort was behind this all. Getting him in Azkaban. But no. It had been that jealous son of a bitch, Corner.
Yes, Corner.
Since Harry and Ginny had became a couple at the end of his sixth year, Corner had been red with jealousy everytime he saw the two of them together. Hell, he was even more obvious about his infatuation than a regular Weasley.
But Harry hadn't realized the git had been that jealous.
If only Dumbledore had just canceled Hogsmeade altogether.
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“Attention, everyone!” Dumbledore said right before a regular dinner in January of Harry's 7th year.
“As you may have read in the Daily Prophet, Death Eater attacks have been increasing. We have heard that they are planning to attack on the next Hogsmeade weekend, so unfortunately, we have to cancel it.”
Groans went throughout the hall, but they were minimum. They realized it was for their own good. Wizard teenagers are more perceptive than Muggle ones, you see.
“I know, I know. But, as Professor Lupin pointed out, there is a room here in this castle which could replace Hogsmeade. It is the Room of Requirement. It gives you everything you require, and if you require a village or two, it appears. So we will give each house one day in the Room. We drew who would get it when, and Gryffindor gets it first, Saturday February 1st. Hufflepuff gets the room next Saturday, Slytherin the next one and Ravenclaw finally the 22nd. Due to circumstances, we will allow the 1st and 2nd years to go. That is all.”
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The idea was good enough, Harry admitted. But there were some flaws on this plan, as on every plan ever formed.
The day itself started nice enough, but then again, so did September 7th 1996. He had accompanied Ginny, of course…
—————————————————————
When he arrived in the common room, she was waiting for him. And boy, did she look tasty. Tasty? Well, he'd like to find out…
“You look great Ginny.” he said.
“You look great too.” she responded, and was that a blush he spotted?
“Should we, er, go now, or, er….” he said, not quite managing to stay cool. Why was he nervous? It wasn't their first date or anything. Why did he feel like he would dread this? Wait, dread? Harry didn't know what to make of those random thoughts popping up in his mind…
“Yeah. Let's.” she said.
When they arrived in Hogsmeade, or the Room of Requirement, they went straight to Honeydukes. When they arrived, they gasped. Well, she did. Rather loudly. He might have, he mightn't have. If he did, it was quietly. Now, the explaination for the gasp(s). Instead of the usual sweets, there were Valentine's day versions of everything. Harry noticed that Ginny seemed like out of this world, so fascinated she was with the whole thing. So while she gaped open-mouthed at the sweets, Harry decided to buy her some sweets. Some meaning spending 30 galleons. She tried to deny it, it was too expensive, she didn't want charity (they both knew that made no sense whatsoever), she wasn't hungry, her dog was sick, she was a Death Eater in disguise, one looked like a fellytone, her sister was allergic to sweets. But he did not budge. So she accepted it, and awarded him with a kiss.
The kiss… he remembered her pretty face, slightly flushed from the cold of Hogsmeade. Her fiery red hair sparkled in the morning sun, her freckles started to fade… Wait, fade? No, no.
Her hair changed colour, went from the pretty red he adored so much, to black. She got a tad shorter, her cheery face became tear-stained, Honeydukes faded from view, and a classroom appeared instead. A mistletoe was hanging abo…
—————————————————————–
Damn those creatures. Harry really did hate them at the moment. He seriously did not have to think about Cho right now.
This happened everytime his thoughts turned to something good. Something he could use to warm himself up with. The thoughts turned and Harry would again sink down in despair.
*Drip*
Those stones were very pretty.
*Drip*
How many stones were there anyway?
*Drip*
one…two…three…four…five…
*Drip*
one-hundred-fifty-two…one-hundred-fifty-three…one-hundred-fifty-four…
*Drip*
six-hundred-eighty-eight…six-hundred-eighty-nine…six-hundred and ninety…six-hundred-ninety-one…Wait. They were gone. Harry watched out to not be too cheerful about that. Where was he? Oh, yeah…
——————————————————————————–
After Honeydukes they went to Gladrags, for there was supposed to be an Easter Ball, and neither had dress robes that fit.
“Hello, dears. What can I do for you?” the saleswitch asked them, sounding more cheerful than the Creevey-brothers put together. She looked nice enough, but her cheeriness was somewhat frightening…
“Um, yeah, maybe you could… Well, we are looking for dress robes, you see, and it would probably be a lot easier if you helped us…?” Ginny asked.
She looked at them like she was trying to figure out their sizes. Which she probably was. After a minute or two, Harry started to feel a bit uncomfortable. He looked at Ginny, and saw that she also looked uncomfortable by the witch, because, as you know, it never is nice when a stranger stares at you intensely. It has never helped things when the stranger has hawk-like eyes that seem to see right through you. Harry was on the verge of yelling at her to get this over with, when she spoke.
“Let's see… Come here with me, young lady. I have just the right one for you…”
Ginny left with the saleswitch to the back of the store, so Harry was alone in the front of the store. Quite logical, that.
Harry looked in every direction possible. Robes of all kinds and sizes came into view, but there was one he felt somewhat drawn to. It was pink. He felt a bit sad being drawn to a pink dress robe - pink! Then, suddenly, Gladrags started to spin out of view, being replaced with unclear pictures of couples dancing, identical sour faces, feet being tr…
————————————————————————————
Harry really wanted to try whether knives worked on Dementors right now - stab them in their heartless chest and twitch - cut off their head, and that didn't look like it was an easy job - even though it's a dementor's head. He wanted to check out what would happen if he'd stab them in the crotch - was there anything at all there?
But he did not have a knife, so he could not do any of those things, no matter how much he wanted to. Pouting, he cursed the Dementors - though, sadly, not literally - and tried to think some nonchalant thoughts while they were near his cell.
What would happen if one encountered an enigma? An actual, living, enigma, who would be nothing but that - an enigma?
What if the sky weren't at all blue - what if the sky, in fact, would be pink? Would females be bigger? Or would everything be the same - just pinker?
Was it really true that people went crazy in Azkaban? Or was it just some story, some crazy rumour, something not at all connected to reality?
Harry noticed that the cold seemed to leave him. Not completely, but to some extent. What on earth could have happened to change that?
——————————————————————————————-
“Harry? Isn't this one lovely?” Ginny asked as she emerged from the back of the store.
Dressed in a dress robe, which indeed was a lovely shade of some red-brown - something you would think her hair clashed with terribly - but did not.
“You look perfect.” he said calmly, because she, indeed, did look perfect. How he loved to exist right now - to have the right to call her his girl - to love her - to be loved by her - to watch her beautiful red hair - to watch her palely flushed face - to look into her brown eyes - to be Ginny's Potter.
She beamed at his comment, and they practically didn't even notice when the saleswitch showed Harry some robe, which he bought without trying on. When they had paid for their robes, they indeed left the store. People looked at them attestively, a word which here means ‘Oh.. Aren’t they cute?', but they did not notice. So wrapped up they were in each other.
They made their way to The Three Broomsticks - instinctively - and found a table in a quiet corner of the pub, and sat down there with their butterbeers, staring at each other, barely sipping on their drinks, staring at each other, savouring the moment, to have something to remember, if something went wrong in the future.
Bodies lay strawn in the made-up village of Hogsmeade, seven were down, seven would never again utter a single word, seven would never again see their loved ones in this life, seven were dead. Eighteen were hurt, and would not all survive. Someone shouted ‘STUPEFY!’. And he was down.
————————————————————————————-
Why did they always have to return? At the worst of moments, they would glide over to his cell, suck out the happy feel, only to nourish themselves. They were sick indeed.
He remembered lines from a song, which he had heard on the muggle radio Mr.Weasley had charmed for him the summer before his 6th year…
…I shouldn'ta let him catch me
Instead of livin sad in jail I coulda died free and happy…
…And that's how it is in the pen\par Turn old and cold, and your soul is your best friend…
…Bye bye, I was never meant to live…
…Bye bye, I was never meant to be…
…how can these people judge me?
They ain't my peers and in all these years, they ain't never love me…
Harry felt some kind of connection to the song, and while it wasn't exactly a fond memory he had from listening to it, it wasn't sad either, and gave him some strength. He did not want to end up like the person in the song - being in prison for the rest of his life. It gave him the strength to survive day from day, and so what if he was a bit crazy?
Being a tad crazy has never hurt anyone. Only if you acted on the voices in your head. And Harry knew that he wasn't supposed to. No matter how convincing they were. Only listen to yourself. Except when you're bored. Then it can be quite amusing to have a little chat to the voices.
YES! Bye, you evil creatures of doom!
——————————————————-
“Where should we go now?” Ginny asked.
“Astronomy Tower?”
“Nah, let's finish our Hogsmeade day first.”
“But I want to gaze at the stars…”
“Harry, it's barely 2 PM. Do you honestly think you will see any stars now?”
“At the sky then.”
“Harry, stop whining.”
“OK.”
Silence.
“Any other suggestions?”
“OK, I'll pick something else.”
Silence.
“Picked anything yet?”
“The Three Broomsticks?”
“We've spent the better part of the day there.”
Silence.
“Harry.”
“What?”
“Any other suggestions?”
“Astromony Tower?”
“Tonight.”
“Yahooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo…”
“Harry, stop. People are staring.”
“…ooooooooooooooooooooooooo…”
“Harry…”
“…ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo…”
“Hey, there's something. Let's go inside.”
—————————————————————
If they only hadn't… Well, maybe that wouldn't had mattered at all. He probably had the perfect plan, and it was just a coincidence that it had happened exactly there… in Madam Puddifoot's.
But who on earth had the other slimy git been?
If only Harry knew.
Then he could include him in his fantasies of Corner's slow, painful death.
Where he strips them naked - for their humiliation - and slowly runs a butcher knife down their body - and only just misses their you-know-whats. Their screams of pure terror, their screams of pure agony. They deserve some of the agony he'd felt the previous weeks. Where he gets a sword and cuts their you-know-whats off, slowly, very slowly.
But what if the other slimy git was a girl?
Now, that's a dilemma.
He'll deal with that later.
Why was he thinking like that?
Even though they had done horrible things, then this…
Must be the Dementors.
Must be.
——————————————————————–
“Oh, hello dears! Follow me, please, and I'll get you a table.”
That was Madam Puddifoot herself. Ginny had probably led Harry in here only to shut him up, which worked by the way, since she wasn't very enthusiastic it seemed about being here. Harry was probably worse off. Madam Puddifoot now led Harry and Ginny to a table in a secluded corner where noone saw them without much effort in turning heads.
“Here you go, dears. I'll stop by in a couple of dozens of minutes so you can order something.”
“What? Dozens of couple of… Wait!” But she was gone, off to trap some other victims in her horrible shop. Oh, horrible, horrible woman!
“Well, uh, sorry. I didn't mean to trap us in here.” Ginny said.
“It's okay. It's better being here with you than Ching Chong, anyway.” Harry replied.
“Oh. Why is that, if I might ask?”
“Well, firstly, you do not cry all the time. Secondly, you actually are fun to be with. Thirdly, you are more beautiful than she is. Fourthly…”
“Fourthly?”
“Yes, fourthly. Fourthly, you ar…”
“I get the picture. I am perfect and she isn't.”
“Exactly.” Harry said, and blushed a bit.
“That's nice to hear.” Ginny responded, beaming.
“You're nice.”
“You too.”
“You more.”
etc. etc. After they had spent about fifteen minutes in their secluded corner where nobody saw them, everything suddenly went black.
————————————————————————————-
Black, black, black, black. Harry did not like that word very much.
He should change his hair colour.
But into what?
Red?
Nah, that was too predictable.
Brown?
Nah, too boring.
Black?
It was black!
Not blonde, surely.
He'd just stick to black.
After all, that was the only hair colour that suited him perfectly.
Well, maybe not perfectly.
Suited him well.
That's it.
—————————————————————————
“Hello, Potter.”
Harry opened his eyes. He had a bit of a headache, and his vision was a bit unclear, but otherwise, he felt fine. He was in Madam Puddifoot's, in the secluded corner, and Ginny lay right next to him. Only just awake, like himself. Over him stood… himself? What the fuck? How could Harry Potter stand over him? He was Harry Potter! And behind him, wait, was that Ginny? But Ginny… yes, she lay right next to him. What the fuck?
“Go. The Potion wears off soon, and while I don't care though they recognize me, I take it that you care?” fake-Harry asked fake-Ginny. Apparently, she did, for she walked away, and when she had just walked out of their view, fake-Harry began to change, to reveal, of all people, Corner! Now, if something's a whatthefuck, then this is. Just, Corner? What the fuck?
“Corner? What the fuck?” Harry stated. Corner, though, only seemed vaguely amused by Harry's statement.
“Yes, Corner. Didn't expect that did you? I'd love to stay and chat, but I simply don't have the time, so I'll settle for telling you the main facts of the matter. See, if I won't get her, noone will. As she clearly won't accept anyone but you, all I had to do was to ruin you. So I did. Do you know what I have been doing for the last hour? I've been hexing 1st and 2nd years, and six or seven of them are dead. Many more are seriously hurt. I Stupefied both of you, then turned me and my companion into you, and hid you under my Invisibility Cloak in here, while for the past hour, Harry Potter has been out killing. Poor Ginny tried to stop him, but couldn't. Then, you dragged her in here again, and Obliviated away the past hour, told her that I did the whole thing, and of course, she believes you. Noone will believe you. There are many witnesses, and the rumours of your insanity have been circling for the past three years. But now, people seem to be coming. Good-bye.” Corner said, and disappeared under his cloak.
Throughout Corner's speech, Harry had been trying to jump on him and beat him into a pulp, but could not, for some magical restraints seemed to have been on him. As soon as Corner disappeared, the restraints also disappeared, and Harry jumped on the place where Corner had been last. Sadly, nothing was there, except thin air, so Harry hit the wall and fell down. He stood up, and in rage, kicked a table. At the same moment, people came through the door, and were met with the sight of a frightened Ginny Weasley, and an enraged Harry Potter.
“STUPEFY!!!!!!”
——————————————————————
That was nearly a month ago. His trial had been short, noone questioned his guilt, except for Ginny, but as Corner predicted, everyone simply believed Harry had Obliviated her. And their excuse of Corner… Well, when they exclaimed that Corner had done it, everybody started to laugh. They did. They really did.
He had been in Azkaban before Hufflepuff's day.
Ginny had promised that she'd try to visit him. But, three weeks later, she still hadn't showed up. Maybe she wasn't interested in him anymore.
'Of course she still likes you, silly! How many times have you declared your love for each other? Exactly!' a voice whispered in his ear.
It was clear. If there had been any doubt about the voices before that moment, they were gone. Harry was now positive they rocked!
But, what kind of a life would it be? Locked in Azkaban forever. Forever. Ginny might visit once or twice a year, but that would be it. And, eventually, she had to date other people. She couldn't date a man with life-sentence in Azkaban. He wouldn't let her.
“Potter.”
Harry looked up. One of the few free human beings in Azkaban, a guard named Benedict, stood outside.
“You have a visitor. She'll be in your cell in a minute or so.”
A visitor? That could only be… Yes! Ginny!
Harry rushed up, but considering that he had spent three weeks around Dementors, he could barely stand. He wobbled slightly, and Ginny rushed over to steady him. Once she was sure he could stand on his own, she let him go. Harry looked carefully at her. She was even more beautiful than he recalled. But there was something different about her though. She seemed…sadder than he remembered. But, in her eyes, he saw something, something he couldn't quite place, but knew that was good for him. And he couldn't wait to find out what it was.
“Do you mind?” she asked Benedict, clearly irritated. Benedict didn't seem to want a row with Ginny, for she seemed quite hard to beat in one, so he left.
When Benedict had left, Ginny kissed Harry hard, enthusiastically, and Harry responded with as much eagerness, though Ginny had to support him so he would not fall down. The Dementors had to stay away now, for they were not allowed near any cell with a visitor. So Harry tried to make the most of the moment. And Ginny seemed as determined as him to do so too.
After a few minutes she broke away though, reluctantly, and took a step backwards. She looked into his eyes, and smiled. Then, she started to speak, or whisper more like it:
“Harry, do you remember the Portkeys to that secluded alley in Ottery St. Catchpole they gave us this summer.?”
“Erm, yes.” Harry answered, quite surprised by the question.
But, wait, no! She didn't… She couldn't…
But she did. She drew up a little knut, and smiled even wider. And Harry couldn't help but smile in return. He was going to get out of there, and he was going to get to live with the woman he loved. Could life be any better?
Well, a few friends would be good…but for now, this was enough.
More than enough.
So he grabbed Ginny and kissed her, just as she activated the Portkey. With circumstances, life could not be more perfect.
A/N: To those that were offended by my cutting scenes, I'm sorry. But, in Azkaban, what do you think about? While cutting and stabbing someone isn't a cheery thought, it makes you feel better to plan revenge, even though you'll never act on your dreams. And you did decide to read even though you knew it was rated R…
The song Harry mentioned was 16 on Death Row by my favorite artist, Tupac.
Even though I doubt Harry listens to hiphop, I did base the fic slightly on the song, so it felt right to mention it somewhere in the story.
And the title of the story is also the title of one of Tupac's best songs.
A knut to whoever that knows what happened September 7th 1996!
Many thanks to my beta, JadedLilth, who read though the story and helped me being more descriptive, and making the story flow better.
Hugi notar vefkökur til að bæta notendaupplifun á vefsíðunni og greina umferð um hana.
Einnig hefur Hugi uppfært persónuverndarstefnu sína.