Serpentine: 10-2 The Darkened Corridor

Posted by Eavan on Apr 11, 2008 • (0)

Title: His Life’s Grace (Part I): Serpentine -> Chapter 10-2: The Darkened Corridor
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Tom/Harry
Warnings: slash, weirdness, babbling, hyperactivity, and people being insane.
Summary: A meeting between different people in a realm of shadows.

“I was wondering where you were hiding,” said Harry, not bothering to look up from the book he was reading. A shapeless shadow took the seat across from him, almost blending into the darkness that lingered around the edges of the world.

“You were to look for me, I was waiting,” the shadow replied, sounding petulant.

“Sorry, I’ve never done this before,” said Harry, closing the blank book in his hands and shoving it aside. “Why are most of these books empty?”

The shadow seemed to shrug. “They’re based on your memories. Your memories are very lonely.”

Harry frowned, hearing the note of sadness in the shadow’s voice. They regarded each other silently, though the shadow had no visible face, Harry knew he was being stared at.

“What am I going to do with you?” he mumbled finally, rubbing at his forehead in irritation.

“Are you going to kill me, then?” the shadow asked, trying to sound nonchalant and failing miserably.

Harry shook his head. “Despite what I may have said in fits of uncontrollable rage, thanks to you, by the way, I would never kill a part of me. Even if you weren’t meant to be a part of me in the first place.”

The shadow shifted, then, becoming almost solid. “Is that true? Really?”

Harry stood. “Let’s take a walk.”

They left the library side by side, almost like they were one person and not two. Faceless students lined the halls, waving and greeting Harry. Though they were ignored for the most part.

Ron and Hermione caught up with him at the bottom of the stairs, demanding to know where he’d been. They had, apparently, been looking for him for a while and had been worried when they couldn’t find him. Harry managed to calm them and slip away with the pretense of having forgotten something.

“For memories, they’re very persistent,” he mumbled.

“They grow stronger the more you think of them,” the shadow replied happily. “That’s why some memories are more easily visible than others.”

“They didn’t notice you.”

“Oh, I’m not part of your memories,” the shadow laughed. “I just linger here.”

“Why?”

The shadow seemed to hunch in on itself. “It’s better than staying in the darkness.”

Harry winced. Feeling, for a moment, a sharp pain in his chest. “I’m sorry.” He meant it, as well, he was startled to realize. “When you say ‘darkness’?”

“It’s a little cliche, yes,” the shadow laughed again. “But its the darkness of your heart.”

“But how do you go there?”

“You mean you don’t know?”

An image crossed Harry’s mind then. Of a darkened corridor with pulsing shadows and voices coming from the dark. “Can we go there?”

“You’re not ready!” the shadow argued, sounding distressed even as its form weaved and shook. “You don’t know what’s in there. Some shadows have been there so long, their anger… It-”

“Calm down,” muttered Harry, wide eyed. A little shaken at the amount of emotion the shadow was showing. “Its alright if you want to stay here, linger in my memories. But I have to face whatever’s in that hallway if I’m ever going to wake up.”

“You’re going alone?” the shadow shrieked. It seemed to shudder then a hand darted forward to grasp Harry’s hand. “I can’t let you go alone. I-I’m going with you!”

Harry chuckled and led the shadow away by the hand. The halls around the darkened corridor were empty and soundless. The shadow was shuddering beside him, attaching itself firmly to his side until Harry thought it was going to blend into him. The darkened corridor seemed to pulse as they approached and the shadows moved along the walls.

“Are you sure?” his companion asked.

“Relax,” Harry snorted, trying to hide a hysterical giggle. No, he was not ready. But the longer he stood there thinking about it, the less likely he’d go through with it. “I don’t know what I’m doing. But I’m going to do it.”

His companion nodded briefly, then did a double take. “You don’t-”

And Harry walked into the darkened corridor.

“What is this?” Harry demanded, looking around in furious shock. “We’re back in the same corridor.”

His shadowy companion pulled on his arm. “Do you know the story of “Alice Through the Looking Glass”?”

“Please don’t tell me I walked through a mirror,” Harry whined.

The shadow laughed. “No, no. I was just going to use it as an example. See, your heart is divided into two, maybe three, spaces. Light, Darkness, and sometimes there’s something in-between.”

“So, my mind is…”

“It’s projecting images in a way you’ll understand,” said the shadow. “Your memories and in this world, the opposite.”

“Obviously,” muttered Harry, rolling his eyes at the stupidity of it all. “What’s in the in-between?”

The shadow moved away, a little reluctantly and shrugged. “I haven’t found it.”

“So for me, there’s only good and bad, light and dark?”

The corridor was empty, not even shadows formed from the lights shining from torches. They walked through the halls in silence for a while. His companion was confused, Harry observed it for a moment, as it
seemed to turn its ‘head’ from side to side. He could almost feel the confusion rolling off the shadowy form at his side. It was disconcerting.

“I don’t understand,” the shadow said finally. “They’re gone. The other shadows aren’t here.”

“That’s wonderful,” replied Harry with forced cheer. “Maybe they’re all waiting somewhere to ambush us.”

“Ambush us with what?” asked the shadow, confused. “They can’t hurt you, you know. They’re not corporal and you give them life.”

Harry scratched the back of his neck, thoughtful. He eyed his shadow, then, “You ran away from here… because they hurt you, right?”

“Eh?”

“You said they can’t hurt me, but you didn’t say they can’t hurt you,” continued Harry, nodding as though he had it all figured out. Which, the shadow thought a little petulantly, he probably did. They stopped before the doors of the Great Hall, turning to face each other. “You know, I thought you would prove to be more trouble than you’re worth. You’re always in the back of my mind, talking about something or other. Making snide comments and riling me up.”

“Sorry,” the shadow muttered, wiggling about like a worm. “I can’t help it.”

“I didn’t like it, in the beginning,” Harry continued, head cocked as he gazed at the shadow almost… fondly. “But I think… I think I can get used to it.”

The shadow wobbled from side to side for a moment. “Thank you,” it said before vanishing into the air.

You need to find the door. Find the door, Harry.

“Where is it?” Harry wondered, looking around the empty corridors. The edges were tearing away now, the light was brighter, and the shadows were returning. “Where’s the door!?”

Go Harry. The darkest corner of your heart. The door.

Harry mumbled and muttered to himself as he stalked through the halls. The shadows were growing thicker, they weaved in and out of his way. Some of the shadows clung to him, as though they didn’t want him to go. “You’re all pretty clingy for being bad memories.”

‘The door’ was surrounded by shadows. There was light peaking from the sides and the keyhole. Aside from that, it looked like any of the other doors. As he got closer, however, he was able to make out words carved into the wood. “Hoc est corpus meum,” he read. The shadows moved back and away from him. “This is my body.”

He reached forward, grasped the doorknob, and pulled the door open.

Hermione was seating on chair beside the hospital bed. Ron was leaning against the wall by a small window on the far side of the room. There was a person on the bed, still and pale.

Harry’s hand hovered over the form on the bed, pushing back dark strands of hair and rubbing gently at the scarred forehead. He smiled thinly, trailing his fingers down an arm until they came in contact with Hermione’s hand. He regarded her form silently.

She was leaning forward in her chair, elbows on the edge of the bed as she grasped the comatose boy’s hand in hers. Her face was red and blotchy, puffy from recent crying. Ron was no better. His face was expressionless, his freckles seemed to stand out against his pale face. His hair was up and in disarray, his clothes wrinkled from obvious overuse.

Harry leaned back, away from Hermione as she sat up and looked around in confusion. She dropped the hand in hers and flexed her fingers, staring at her hand in wonder. Harry reached forward and grasped her hand once more, smiling when Hermione jumped in her seat, eyes wide.

“I’m here, Herm,” he whispered. “Please see me.”

“Harry?” she whispered back, looking around in confused wonder. Ron startled, stretching and moving to her side. He watched her grasping at the air like a lunatic for a while before taking her hand in his and petting her hair gently. “I felt him. He’s here, Ron. Harry’s here.”

“Of course he is, silly,” Ron replied, nodding at the figure on the bed. “He’s been here for a while. Remember?”

“I felt, his presence, Ron,” she argued. “I know I did.”

“Is it still here?”

Hermione closed her eyes, concentrating on finding the feeling she’d lost mere moments before but could not. “Not anymore.”

Ron cocked his head, as though listening to something. “Almost like…”

“… Saying goodbye,” finished Hermione, leaning against him as she began crying once again.