MetaFic

Perspectives on Mortality

Dean Thomas watched Harry Potter reappear with Cedric Diggory’s body as the third task of the Triwizard tournament ended. Like everyone else, he was surprised – no, shocked – at the turn of events. What was supposed to be a magical exhibition had turned into a horror event.

He stood and watched people scramble around, while he felt rooted to his position in the stands. Dean could hear several girls crying over the noise of everyone else, but even that did not make him get up. On the field, the Diggorys were grieving over their son and the Headmaster knelt beside them, trying to comfort them. A dazed and slightly bloody Potter was being led off the pitch by Professor Moody. There was no order; there seemed to be no sense to anything.

Dean sat back down in the stands and saw his best mate was still there. “Well?”

Seamus Finnegan looked back at him. “Well what? What can you say after that?” His Irish brogue seemed a little extra thick in the excitement of the moment.

What could you say after that? Dean just shrugged and the two boys turned their attention back to the chaos on the field. Each lost in their own thoughts.

Potter was gone from the field, but Dean knew he was the focus of all of this. It did not take a genius to see that. If something bad happened, you could count on Potter being nearby. But why? What was so special about him?

The Headmaster seemed to suddenly become very concerned about something as he stood and looked around with much worry on his face. It did not take long for him to make a decision, grab McGonagall attention, and hurry up to the castle for something.

Dean considered the Headmaster, the ultimate example of the “good guys”. He stood for good against the evil of the world. It was clear, and tonight was a good example, that even the Headmaster did not always make the right decision, but he still made decisions and carried on as best he could. Dean wondered if he needed to make any decisions.

He put his face in his hands and rubbed his temples as he thought. What did all of this mean to him? Was there going to be another war and would he be involved in it? Another war as there was around the time he was born?

That question brought him back to a question that had always nagged at him. Who was his father and why had his father left him and his mother? Was he really a Muggleborn like Granger? Or was his father a wizard and he was like Potter – a half-blood? But if he was a half-blood, why had his father left his family? Left him? Surely his father could tell that his son was magical.

He ran his fingers through his short hair as he considered those questions for what seemed like the millionth time; but no new answers came.

His preferred answer was that his father knew he was a wizard and had tried to defend them from Death Eaters, sacrificing himself so that his family might live, but his mother did not know. Bloody hell, she did not even know if the man had been a wizard or not. Dean’s Hogwarts letter had been a shock to her.

But what if that were true? What if his real father was a wizard and had died protecting them? Dean slowly shook his head trying to comprehend that action, that decision – the choice of choosing your own death so that others might live. If he were in the same place, could he make that same decision? Was this what it meant to be a Gryffindor?

As Dean watched people start to leave the field, he felt like he was about to leave something behind too – his childhood. His innocence had been taken from him tonight, just as surely as Diggory’s life had been taken from him. There was no denying it, as he had in past years: Hogwarts was not completely safe. And that was going to force him to make a decision. Could he make the right one?

“Come on, Dean, we better go in too.”

Dean slowly looked to his friend. “Seamus, I don’t think there is an ‘in’ anymore, I think there is only an ‘on’.” Leaving his friend behind, who had a perplexed expression, Dean walked towards the castle by himself, still somewhat lost in his own thoughts.

He would not leave this world behind; that was now a given. He was a wizard and this was his world. Whatever might come, he would deal with it and go on. If there was a way to help Potter without his getting hurt, he would do that too. But life went on and so he would too. He would just have to keep his eyes open a little wider.