tigriswolf | you should have known better than to lean on me - Harry Potter fic

Title: you should have known better than to lean on me

Fandom: Harry Potter

Disclaimer: not my characters; just for fun. Title from “Because of You” by Kelly Clarkson.

Warnings: AU after OotP. Dark.

Pairings: none

Rating: PG

Wordcount: 785

Point of view: third

At the end, he is no hero.

They tell stories about The Boy Who Lived, about the one who defeated the worst Dark Lord in remembered history. They speak of his power, of his grace and his courage, of his sacrifice.

They have no idea what they’re talking about.

Fighting the Dark, true Dark, steals away the Light, siphons all that is good from a body.

They speak of how he was that first year, eager as a puppy. They speak of how he never lost control his second year, even when most of the school turned on him. They speak of how he never lased out in anger his third year, how he never hunted the traitor Black himself, leaving him to those who knew more. They speak of his bravery in the Tri-Wizard Tournament his fourth year, of how he stuck to his story against all comers in his fifth.

It is his sixth year, however, where the true story is hidden and mere legends come into play.

At the end, he gives in, easily, and lets the Dark claim his soul.

They say he worked closely with Albus Dumbledore, one of the greatest wizards the Light ever birthed. They were allies, friends, partners in the plan to destroy the Dark Lord. They say Albus Dumbledore loved him like a grandson, doted on him, gave him training and aid.

They are wrong.

Love is a great power, for certain, but not enough to defy the Dark for long.

The truth, known only to a handful, is that The Boy Who Lived never again turned to Albus Dumbledore after his godfather fell into the Veil. He submerged himself in rage and pain, falling deeper and deeper into despair by the day. The weeks he spent at his relatives after the Department of Mysteries disaster merely cemented his decision: he was done playing by the Light’s rules.

After Sirius Black fell into the Veil, Harry Potter—The Boy Who Lived—plunged headfirst into the Dark.

At the end, he rests, held gently in an ebon embrace, cloaked in Darkness.

There was a battle between the Order of the Phoenix and the Death Eaters, a battle that claimed over a thousand lives. Albus Dumbledore fell before the final curse cast, killed by the Dark Lord.

The Dark Lord laughed, full and long, as the remaining Order members dropped to their knees in disbelief.

The Light and Dark battled… and the Light lost.

Beneath the lure of Light flows the siren song of Darkness, and so few can ever deny its call.

But this is not the story told. Why? Because after the Order’s defeat, the Dark Lord vanished. His followers returned to their lives and the world continued on. Soon enough, the truth faded and legends were told in its stead.

The Boy Who Lived went down in history as a hero, even though no one saw him for a dozen years.

At the end, he has not forgotten, nor shall he ever forgive.

The Boy Who Lived, according to the history texts, dueled the worst Dark Lord in living memory to the death and came out the victor. He collapsed moments after Voldemort died and never woke, wasting away within hours.

History, as recorded, is a lie.

There are no last-minute salvations, only glorious darkness as the curtain falls.

Voldemort vanished and his followers faded back into their normal lives. The magical world prospered in the new age, content in the knowledge that the Dark had gone forever.

But the Dark never dies. It merely sleeps, waiting to be summoned again.

At the end, the Dark swirls about him and the Light falls.

The Dark Lord, in fact, is no Lord of the Dark at all. After he killed Albus Dumbledore, the gifts granted him by the Dark were taken back and Voldemort, again, became Tom Riddle. He did not have the pure power at his disposal anymore, but he was content.

Part of what the history texts say is true: Voldemort died on that battlefield. But he was not killed by Harry Potter—instead, he waits for Harry Potter to call up the Dark, so that he can, once again, join the eternal war.

The magical world, in its innocence, believes that the war between Light and Dark can end—has ended.

Harry Potter—The Boy Who Lived, the hero of the magical world—knows better. The war will never be over—and he is the greatest general the Dark has ever had.

At the end, he is no hero, no savior—no pawn. At the end, he laughs in the Dark’s embrace and punishes the world that never once fought for him.