Hello all! I haven't written fanfiction in quite some time, but I had some free time on my hands and decided I would take another shot at it. This is a chapter that sets up the rest of the story to come. Enjoy!
Dinner Party for the Dead
Harry's eyes flashed open. The first thing he registered was that he was staring up at a great dark blue sky glittering with nighttime stars. Slowly, he sat upright. He was not staring up at the gorgeous sky from a spot on the fresh, soft grass outside; rather, he was seated on a shiny polished floor, gazing up at the enchanted ceiling of the room he knew to be the Great Hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Though he knew instinctively that he must be sitting in the Great Hall, Harry was struck by the unfamiliar furniture adorning the room. He had never seen the Great Hall look quite like this before. The four immense house tables, banners, and points hourglasses were nowhere to be found. Instead, one lonely, traditional looking dining room table sat in the center of the room. The table was far smaller than even half of a house table, but also distinctively larger than any table you'd find in a typical dining room. It sat six on each side and just one at the end of the table closest to where the professors' table once stood. This set up of the Great Hall was not unlike how it was during the Christmas holidays, except that there was a stark lack of twelve enormous pine trees and numerous enchanted Christmas bulbs.
Absently, Harry thought about how long it had been since he had spent a Christmas at Hogwarts. As he counted on his fingers, he found that it had been much longer than he remembered. He had not spent a Christmas at Hogwarts since the Yule Ball his fourth year, and that had been nearly five years ago now. It was presently June, almost two years since the Battle at Hogwarts, the battle that ended it all. Harry's mind gave a start. He realized that today on the dot would actually mark the two year anniversary of the battle, of the victory, but most pressingly in Harry's mind, of all of the lives that were lost.
A sudden grief washed over Harry, making his bones feel like lead beneath his skin. This feeling was not strange to Harry; he felt it nearly daily. It was a mixture of grief, guilt, and nostalgia for the time when all those who had passed were still alive and well. Though part of him knew that it was not his fault, that they all died fighting voluntarily for a cause that they truly believed in, the other part of him couldn't shake the feeling that he was responsible for their deaths because he was the one who had drawn Voldemort and the Death Eaters to Hogwarts in the first place, he was the one who had asked people to fight. This grief that weighed on him now was not only that surrounding the deaths that occurred at the Battle at Hogwarts, but also those that had happened before for his sake. Those including, but not limited to, his parents, Sirius, Dobby and Mad Eye. Though the one part of him knew that he was not at fault, or at least not entirely at fault, for their deaths, he knew that the other part of him would never be able to relinquish the feeling of grave responsibility that plagued him. But that was okay. That feeling of immense grief meant that there had once been, and still was, great love for those people in his heart. It was that love that kept him going day in and day out.
Thinking of day in and day out, Harry wondered what time of day it was. The last thing he had consciously remembered was falling asleep in his bed at the flat he shared with Ron and Hermione. So, he thought, this must be a dream. But, stretching his fingers out in front of him and wiggling his toes, Harry recognized that this did not feel quite like a dream. He was more substantive, more aware than he ever was in his subconscious. Yet, it did not feel quite like reality either. Though on the outside he felt more substantial, on the inside he felt somehow airier and lighter than he was in real life. Wherever he was right now hung somewhere between the realms of reality and illusion, and it was a particularly strange place to be, especially considering the fact that he was all alone.
And of course, just as Harry was having this thought, a tall figure with billowing robes entered the room. Harry knew who it was before the figure turned toward him but did not dare say his name aloud before seeing his face full on. It was impossible that Harry could be seeing him here; he hadn't seen this man in the flesh in nearly three years. It was impossible that Harry could be seeing him here and now in the place that they had both used to frequent on the daily. Yet, in this strange realm, who knew what was possible?
After several tension filled moments in which the shadowy figure glanced serenely around the hall, his head revolved to face Harry directly, and his features were illuminated by the dazzling stars of the night. Piercing blue eyes stared directly into Harry's emerald green ones, and a broad grin swept across the old man's face.
"Ah Harry, so glad you could make it!"
Next Chapter to come soon! Very soon, I hope. Hope you like it so far! Thanks for reading!