She glanced around the small bedroom, taking in the sight of her
friends. They weren’t all smiles instead they were all business,
heads bent over books, quills to parchment.
She sighed noting that this could be the last chance they would
all have to be together, relatively safe and mostly untainted by
the horrors of war.
They still had time now, however brief, and she was determined to
remember it. To take it all in and savor it, hold on to it for
later, when things got to be too hard.
She scanned the room again with a small, content smile gracing
her lips. Seeing one member of the group was missing, she got up
quietly and left the room unnoticed.
She made her way down the stairs to the kitchen. Looking out the
rear door, she could see him near the old shed in the yard.
He was ambling away from the house with his head down, eyes
vacantly watching the grass as he walked.
Pushing the door open only enough to allow her to pass through to
avoid the usual creak she knew it made when opened wide, she
closed the door silently and hurried after him.
When she caught up to him, he was just climbing over a fallen log
near a small creek. She stopped and watched him from behind a
large willow.
He sat down heavily, resting his elbows on his knees and gazed
blankly into his reflection in the babbling creek.
“You know, no matter how hard you hug them, the trees will never
hug you back.”
She started at the sound of his voice and looked away, blushing
guiltily. Still leaving one arm wrapped around the trunk, she
stepped out from behind it.
“My grandfather died when I was very little. I sat in the yard
all by myself, crying when my father found me. He told me that
the spirits of our loved ones get reincarnated as trees to stand
guard over the ones they left behind. He said that if you listen,
you can hear them whispering to you on the breeze and sometimes
you can even dance with them in the wind.”
He turned to face her then; looked her directly in the eyes,
astonished. He blinked and turned his face up to the long
branches of the willow. He closed his eyes.
She glanced up at the leaves as a breeze rustled through. When
she brought her eyes back to him, a small smile had crept onto
his face. Such a rare occurrence now that she relished the sense
of victory knowing it as a result of what she had said.
“I just thought I should ask this willow if it would like to
dance, “she continued seriously.
His eyes shot open as he spun to look at her again. His smile
grew wide and open as he barked out a laugh. She found herself
laughing along with him.
“It feels good to laugh,” he admitted.
“You don’t do it nearly often enough.”
“It feels like a sin to laugh now,” he answered soberly. He
turned around facing the creek again.
She came around the log and sat next to him. She looked at their
reflection and playfully bumped his shoulder with hers.
“It won’t do to forget what we’re fighting for,” she smiled.
He nodded, but didn’t meet her eyes.
Silence stretched between them, but didn’t grow awkward. And as a
small fish broke the surface of the water, she felt compelled to
fill the air.
“What are you doing out here by yourself?”
“Sometimes I feel less alone when I’m by myself.”
“How can you feel alone? Everyone in that house is working
together to help you. We’re all trying—“
“That’s just it though. I’m the only one who’s got to fight him
in the end. I’d rather not have you all be at risk because of me.”
“Willy wallows all alone while Wally wheedles away his days with
Wilma.”
“What?”
“It’s our choice, Harry. You’re not responsible for any of us.
We’re all capable of making our own decisions.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Probably not.”
The simplicity of her answer stopped him. He looked at her. “You
think I’m wallowing in self-pity, but you have no idea what it’s
like to watch people you love, the only family you’ve ever known,
die because of you.”
He kicked violently at a rock and knocked into the water. Ripples
washed away quickly by the current.
“You don’t know what it’s like to know you’re the cause of their
deaths. That they’d still be alive if not for you! And if you
were only smarter or...or faster you could have stopped it.”
“Harry, I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through to get this far.
But no one expects you to shoulder the burden alone. We all want
to help.”
“And the longer I stay here, the longer I’m around all of you,
the more likely it is that an attack will come here. That you’ll
be taken from me too.” He continued as if she hadn’t spoken at
all.
“I can’t bear that. I can’t stand here and let all of you die for
me too!”
He swiped furiously at the tear that dared leak from his eye. He
looked away from her, refusing to meet her gaze.
She reached out to him. He sat rigid in her embrace. He let her
hold him, but he wouldn’t cry. He refused to.
Humming softly, she whispered reassurances in his ear. He stared
stalwartly ahead and ground out the words, “I won’t let it.”
“Oh, Harry.”
“I won’t let him hurt anyone else. I won’t!”
“There’s nothing you can do that you aren’t already doing.”
“Then I’ll bring the fight to him.”
She let go and sat back from him. Tilting her head to meet his
gaze, she couldn’t quite hide the fear from her voice.
“What does that mean?”
“And I won’t let you talk me out of it.”
She stared at him, confused and frightened. He growled and stood
up.
“Come now, you’re smarter than that. You can figure it out.”
She stood, silently staring at him for a moment.
“You can’t.” She floundered with her words. “Dumbledore...”
“Isn’t here anymore.”
“But Lupin won’t let you.”
“In case you missed it, I’m legally an adult. There’s nothing
anyone can do to stop me. And I didn’t tell you so you would
try. I don’t want to be stopped.”
“But what about everyone here who loves you? You’re just going to
leave without saying a word? Vanish one night while everyone’s
asleep?”
He sagged a little under her reproachful gaze, but didn’t say
anything.
“That’s very cruel, Harry. We don’t deserve that. Not after
everything we’ve done for you.”
“That’s exactly why I have to go! You’ve all already done so much
for me. I can’t let you sacrifice even more. I won’t allow it.”
“It’s not for you to allow!” The calm façade both had worked hard
to maintain now evaporated.
“It’s not something you can save us from! We do it because we
love you! Everyone does...so much. Why can’t you see that?”
“I do,” he sighed. “This is my way of loving you back. I’m loving
you the only way I know how!”
Their eyes locked, he could see his words truly affected her.
“Fine. Then I’m coming too.”
“No!” His voice took on a slight edge of panic. “No. You have to
stay here. You need to take care of everyone else, make sure
they’re okay for me. I have to know you’re safe...Please.”
“You’re leaving. And there’s nothing I can do about it. I can’t
stop you and I can’t go with you. Is that right?”
“Yes.” He seemed relieved she wasn’t going to protest anymore.
“Then you’re at least telling Lupin. He’d want to know. It’s bad
enough everyone else is going to kill me. I’ll at least need some
backup.”
He stared, wide-eyed, at her.
“You owe him that much, Harry.”
He moved to dip the tips of his sneakers in the water. “I’ll be
there in a minute.” He noticed her hesitance. “I’ll come back in,
I swear. I just need a minute by myself.”
Nodding reluctantly, she started back to the house. Halfway
across the yard, she turned back.
He was on his knees at the bank of the creek, staring up at the
night sky. Following his eyes, she found the Dog Star shining
brightly back at them.
She quietly slipped back into the house.
Harry knelt in the mud letting the shallow water soak his jeans.
He watched the Dog Star twinkle merrily at him. A dark storm
cloud pushed across the sky, hiding the stars from view and
blanketing him in darkness.
friends. They weren’t all smiles instead they were all business,
heads bent over books, quills to parchment.
She sighed noting that this could be the last chance they would
all have to be together, relatively safe and mostly untainted by
the horrors of war.
They still had time now, however brief, and she was determined to
remember it. To take it all in and savor it, hold on to it for
later, when things got to be too hard.
She scanned the room again with a small, content smile gracing
her lips. Seeing one member of the group was missing, she got up
quietly and left the room unnoticed.
She made her way down the stairs to the kitchen. Looking out the
rear door, she could see him near the old shed in the yard.
He was ambling away from the house with his head down, eyes
vacantly watching the grass as he walked.
Pushing the door open only enough to allow her to pass through to
avoid the usual creak she knew it made when opened wide, she
closed the door silently and hurried after him.
When she caught up to him, he was just climbing over a fallen log
near a small creek. She stopped and watched him from behind a
large willow.
He sat down heavily, resting his elbows on his knees and gazed
blankly into his reflection in the babbling creek.
“You know, no matter how hard you hug them, the trees will never
hug you back.”
She started at the sound of his voice and looked away, blushing
guiltily. Still leaving one arm wrapped around the trunk, she
stepped out from behind it.
“My grandfather died when I was very little. I sat in the yard
all by myself, crying when my father found me. He told me that
the spirits of our loved ones get reincarnated as trees to stand
guard over the ones they left behind. He said that if you listen,
you can hear them whispering to you on the breeze and sometimes
you can even dance with them in the wind.”
He turned to face her then; looked her directly in the eyes,
astonished. He blinked and turned his face up to the long
branches of the willow. He closed his eyes.
She glanced up at the leaves as a breeze rustled through. When
she brought her eyes back to him, a small smile had crept onto
his face. Such a rare occurrence now that she relished the sense
of victory knowing it as a result of what she had said.
“I just thought I should ask this willow if it would like to
dance, “she continued seriously.
His eyes shot open as he spun to look at her again. His smile
grew wide and open as he barked out a laugh. She found herself
laughing along with him.
“It feels good to laugh,” he admitted.
“You don’t do it nearly often enough.”
“It feels like a sin to laugh now,” he answered soberly. He
turned around facing the creek again.
She came around the log and sat next to him. She looked at their
reflection and playfully bumped his shoulder with hers.
“It won’t do to forget what we’re fighting for,” she smiled.
He nodded, but didn’t meet her eyes.
Silence stretched between them, but didn’t grow awkward. And as a
small fish broke the surface of the water, she felt compelled to
fill the air.
“What are you doing out here by yourself?”
“Sometimes I feel less alone when I’m by myself.”
“How can you feel alone? Everyone in that house is working
together to help you. We’re all trying—“
“That’s just it though. I’m the only one who’s got to fight him
in the end. I’d rather not have you all be at risk because of me.”
“Willy wallows all alone while Wally wheedles away his days with
Wilma.”
“What?”
“It’s our choice, Harry. You’re not responsible for any of us.
We’re all capable of making our own decisions.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Probably not.”
The simplicity of her answer stopped him. He looked at her. “You
think I’m wallowing in self-pity, but you have no idea what it’s
like to watch people you love, the only family you’ve ever known,
die because of you.”
He kicked violently at a rock and knocked into the water. Ripples
washed away quickly by the current.
“You don’t know what it’s like to know you’re the cause of their
deaths. That they’d still be alive if not for you! And if you
were only smarter or...or faster you could have stopped it.”
“Harry, I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through to get this far.
But no one expects you to shoulder the burden alone. We all want
to help.”
“And the longer I stay here, the longer I’m around all of you,
the more likely it is that an attack will come here. That you’ll
be taken from me too.” He continued as if she hadn’t spoken at
all.
“I can’t bear that. I can’t stand here and let all of you die for
me too!”
He swiped furiously at the tear that dared leak from his eye. He
looked away from her, refusing to meet her gaze.
She reached out to him. He sat rigid in her embrace. He let her
hold him, but he wouldn’t cry. He refused to.
Humming softly, she whispered reassurances in his ear. He stared
stalwartly ahead and ground out the words, “I won’t let it.”
“Oh, Harry.”
“I won’t let him hurt anyone else. I won’t!”
“There’s nothing you can do that you aren’t already doing.”
“Then I’ll bring the fight to him.”
She let go and sat back from him. Tilting her head to meet his
gaze, she couldn’t quite hide the fear from her voice.
“What does that mean?”
“And I won’t let you talk me out of it.”
She stared at him, confused and frightened. He growled and stood
up.
“Come now, you’re smarter than that. You can figure it out.”
She stood, silently staring at him for a moment.
“You can’t.” She floundered with her words. “Dumbledore...”
“Isn’t here anymore.”
“But Lupin won’t let you.”
“In case you missed it, I’m legally an adult. There’s nothing
anyone can do to stop me. And I didn’t tell you so you would
try. I don’t want to be stopped.”
“But what about everyone here who loves you? You’re just going to
leave without saying a word? Vanish one night while everyone’s
asleep?”
He sagged a little under her reproachful gaze, but didn’t say
anything.
“That’s very cruel, Harry. We don’t deserve that. Not after
everything we’ve done for you.”
“That’s exactly why I have to go! You’ve all already done so much
for me. I can’t let you sacrifice even more. I won’t allow it.”
“It’s not for you to allow!” The calm façade both had worked hard
to maintain now evaporated.
“It’s not something you can save us from! We do it because we
love you! Everyone does...so much. Why can’t you see that?”
“I do,” he sighed. “This is my way of loving you back. I’m loving
you the only way I know how!”
Their eyes locked, he could see his words truly affected her.
“Fine. Then I’m coming too.”
“No!” His voice took on a slight edge of panic. “No. You have to
stay here. You need to take care of everyone else, make sure
they’re okay for me. I have to know you’re safe...Please.”
“You’re leaving. And there’s nothing I can do about it. I can’t
stop you and I can’t go with you. Is that right?”
“Yes.” He seemed relieved she wasn’t going to protest anymore.
“Then you’re at least telling Lupin. He’d want to know. It’s bad
enough everyone else is going to kill me. I’ll at least need some
backup.”
He stared, wide-eyed, at her.
“You owe him that much, Harry.”
He moved to dip the tips of his sneakers in the water. “I’ll be
there in a minute.” He noticed her hesitance. “I’ll come back in,
I swear. I just need a minute by myself.”
Nodding reluctantly, she started back to the house. Halfway
across the yard, she turned back.
He was on his knees at the bank of the creek, staring up at the
night sky. Following his eyes, she found the Dog Star shining
brightly back at them.
She quietly slipped back into the house.
Harry knelt in the mud letting the shallow water soak his jeans.
He watched the Dog Star twinkle merrily at him. A dark storm
cloud pushed across the sky, hiding the stars from view and
blanketing him in darkness.
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| A Logical Argument |
| The Ultimate Harry Potter Analysis Source |
| Choosing what is Right over what is Easy |
