Hello! This is my first fanfic, so a thank you to xX-Shadow-Moon-Pendant-Xx for getting me to write this, and Amelia Letter for being my beta. I got the PSI idea from Changeling by romantiscue (check it out if you have time, it's awesome), so I hope to do the idea justice, though the plot will be different and all mine. Reviews are welcomed. Enjoy XD
Prologue: Walking Shadow
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more; it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.
-William Shakespeare
The room was huge and rectangle shaped. Like a long and dark hall, starting from the door as large stone gray walls, and were slowly absorbed by the shadows. But the most noticeable feature about the room was that it felt cold.
That was the first thing that Harry noticed, as he walked into the dark room. It wasn't a cold that made you want to drink hot chocolate by a fire. No, this was a type of chill that was much more sinister. It pulled your gut in a way that made you sick with terror, numb with pain and had a stench of the deceased. But he wasn't affected by it, having been in the same room many times before.
Harry stood in the Death Chamber—looking around the dimly lit room—face blank and devoid of all emotion, his gleaming emerald eyes taking in the sight of the Veil in front of him.
He always did wonder what would happen if he went through with his thoughts of jumping in the Veil and finding his godfather. But this time was different, this time he didn't have anything binding him to this world. No Hermione or Ron to talk him out of it.
They were all living their lives, free from the war, a war that destroyed his past and future. But after the war, Harry still wasn't content, he had everything anyone could want, but yet it felt like he had nothing at all. He had no one and thus, he had no one to continue for. Ron and Hermione were on their third child, they were building their family. Ginny was married to Dean, Luna and Neville were also together. Teddy had his grandmother to take care of him. Even Draco and Blaise had settled down with their own respective wives.
After the war, everything was supposed to be fine and they were supposed to live happy long lives. Ron became a Quidditch player, and Hermione worked for the new Minister. For a while, everything was fine, but after a few months, Harry just couldn't take it anymore. He had nothing to do, from the fact that ever since he was 11, his time was occupied with staying alive. Now he just didn't know what to do with his life anymore.
He wasn't needed, and he was bored. Bored and tired of the same thing over and over again. He needed this; he needed to start again. Harry understood that there was only a 5% chance of going to another world, 95% of dying. But Harry was always an exception to every rule, and he would rather take his chance than to stay and live.
After the war, Harry had to occupy himself with other things. Boredom never was a good thing for him, and he constantly found himself bored with everything. He shut himself and read books, from fantasy and romance, to history and Philosophy. Nothing caught his attention though, and he was getting desperate, which lead him here, about to jump into the Veil looking for the next great adventure.
Harry took a long breath and slowly moved through the room, his footsteps the only sound in the freezing quiet. As he got closer he heard the ghostly whispers that came from the Veil. They were inviting him, their voices felt as if they were wrapped around his frame, giving him a feeling of soft calming confusion.
Harry stopped squeezing a hand tightly, not looking back. He knew he would just find another excuse if he looked back now, he took two steps forward and into the Veil.