A Pocket Full Of Clouds

joerandom

Started: 14 Nov 2011

SUMMARY: A few days after the final battle Harry passes through the valley of the shadow of death. And finds life.

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing; I'm only visiting this universe.

Chapter 1

Death's Crushing Embrace

Harry felt like he was about to explode. His emotions had escaped their cell, running loose, out of his control. It felt like a tidal surge about to sweep him away and drown him. He had started shaking a few minutes ago and had been helpless to stop it. He didn't want to upset anyone, that would only make it worse. He needed to move, to get away. Anywhere would do, just out of the castle. He started walking toward the hills, his head down, barely holding on. He walked. The physical activity helped, it calmed him, gave him some focus on his body, even though his emotions were completely unfocused. It gave him a sense of time passing, even though he lost track of time. He just wanted to hide. To disappear. He kept moving, up into the hills behind Hogwarts. The clouds chasing him, hounding him, pushing him.

He couldn't think of facing anyone right now. All the pain; that enormous river of pain. His, theirs, everyone's. He had nothing left. No control, no smile, no words, just pain. He walked. The clouds following him, pressing on him.

He wasn't always this bad. He could be normal, or what passed for normal these last few years. But not, seemingly, today. It really hit him after the funerals started. It wasn't just that person who had died, it was that part of a family who had died. Seeing everyone else's pain, their sobbing, was crushing. Grinding. Rending. He couldn't contain it. He was exhausted, spent.

He tripped and fell to his hands and knees. It was a shock. It brought him back to the present, at least for a moment. He stayed there, breathing, exuding small clouds into the cold air.

He sank back onto his knees and into the pain. The familiar encompassing pain. He had to keep moving. The lives that are gone and the torn holes left in those that are not. The lives diminished and dimmed by the hope and love that had been ripped out. Where can you go from there? How can you move forward? Harry was beyond anger, there was only pain left. He ran out of energy for anger. The pain had taken it all.

Harry found himself in a deep dell. A spring forming a small pool in a box canyon. A small stream leading away downslope. Rocks lining the high walls with trees overhanging in dim light. Moss. Soft grass. It would have been beautiful if there were any beauty left in the world. He couldn't see a way forward, out of the dell. It took too much energy to look for a way. He collapsed to sitting.

Where would all those lives have gone? All the hope, the promise, the relationships that could have been. Now torn asunder. The tatters hanging, to be tied off and cleaned up by those who can't bear to. The continuing reminders of what was lost. Dragging them back into the pain. He bent forward into a ball, resting on his arms. In the distance he heard a soft wailing.

Harry awoke. Lying on his back. He opened his eyes to overhanging trees hiding an overcast sky. It was now brighter than he last remembered. Mist clouds lazily, gently moving in the dell. The stream mumbling to the trees as it ambled past. Dew was everywhere. Except his clothes and for a few inches around where he lay. The air was cold, his breath rising to join the mist clouds. The cold was pressing on him, but not in him. His magic must be keeping him warm. He thought of moving but that brought back yesterday's pain, and he lost the energy to move. He let go, sinking into his depression in the grass. Energy leached out of him into the depression that he fit in so well. It cradled him. He closed his eyes and floated, losing up or down, there was only his weakness.