Contains quotes from and references to Harry Potter and "The Cretan" by Dionysios Solomos.

She stands hesitantly in the doorway.

("Who has seen the one whose beauty hallows the Vale?")

There he is.

.

("No, not cremated, no."

"Ah, good for you. Now-"

"No. Not 'now'. Nothing 'now'. First I need to see him"

"Well-"

"I'll do anything you want afterwards, but now, your bloody paperwork can wait. I know he's here".)

.

The elderly couple looks at each other for a moment of eternity.

("She was but now before us, making haste; this way and that she looks and someone seeks")

Then they spring into an embrace with a force and speed that tramps on their white hair and wrinkles and seems to recall a wild youthful energy, now long since gone.

They lose themselves into it, cling onto each other like it's the end of the world. It is, in a way.

"How long? How long for you?"

"Five years", she chokes out. "For you?"

.

(Hm, there's a deep bond here, keeps asking about her. Plus, one hell of a willpower.

Better not make the offer yet, he probably won't accept…But there's always the "watching the poor loved one suffer" card.

Still, could be problematic…Meh, one in a thousand, who cares!

Ah, he's one of his friends, isn't he?

Oh, what the hell, let's have some fun. Put him in stasis. Let him wait; I know his type.

Definitely the "poor loved ones" card.

Oh, and –ha! - let him not accept! That will be just delicious!

Leave you to it….)

.

"I…I don't know. Feels like a day".

OoO

"So…so we are both dead now".

"Yep".

"Oh, God…"

"It's alright". She glares at him. "Okay, it is not alright, but…"

Sit down together on the sofa, look out the window at the colorful darkness. Stroke her arm soothingly.

"Someone I greatly I admire once said: 'To the well organized mind, death is but the next great adventure.'"

A smile.

"Now you are just looking for an excuse to quote Dumbledore."

A chuckle.

"Yeah, I know".

"You should have grown a beard. You'd look wise and all".

"Did that once, in the 70s, looks rubbish!"

"I know!"

OoO

She's angry. Great.

"I think you were a bit hard on the man. He is only doing his job".

"With what he said? I let him off nicely."

"You- you didn't have to go all Scottish on him…"

She turns and faces him, grabbing his hand, says his name slowly and deliberately.

"I-I don't like this. I have a bad feeling about this place".

"I know but-"

"But 'it's only a feeling?'"

"…Yeah".

"And you have it too". She smiles just a little. Because of course he does.

(There was a time, years ago and years ahead, when they would risk the whole world on that feeling:

"Glorious, precious, amazing human instincts!" Wildly gesticulating hands, now resting on each of their shoulders, intense green eyes leaning in close. "Always trust them, trust them only, if nothing else. 20 billion years worth of evolution, don't waste it!" A shrug and a nod to the smoking remains of a particularly vicious monster, lying nearby. "And, ah, well, since especially yours in particular always seem to be spot on…bravo! Keep at it, both of you, very cool!" A –relieved- hug and a smile. "Come along, next stop the moon of-")

"Do you remember this?" she asks.

"What do you mean?"

"Look, I'm sorry to bring it up, but you've died before. Do you remember anything about this place?"

He hesitates. He has never thought about it before.

"No".

"Well, doesn't this seem strange to you? Try to remember something, anything."

"I think…well, maybe a bit, I don't know…"

"Well? Only that?"

"Well," he blurts out, "I came back and those were really weird and special circumstances, suppose I wasn't really dead in the first place?"

The patented glare again. It has only gotten more searing with age. "Oh come on, that makes no sense. There would be something."

"So…what are you saying?"

"I'm saying you either went to some other place or someone is screwing with your head".

"Maybe it's a natural process", he protests. "Maybe we are not meant to remember"

"Yes, but then wouldn't you immediately remember it completely when you came back here? And you don't. This doesn't seem natural. So you either never came here and you are forgetting the real thing because you are not there right now, which is bad, or…"

"What?"

She lowers her voice slightly.

"Or they are evil. Which is also bad. Obviously".

"Why-why would they be evil?"

"Well, the last people we encountered who were erasing people's memories weren't exactly saints now, were they?"

Well, when you put it like that…

"Okay, point taken." She nods.

"But. We still don't know if your theory's correct. It's only a theory. And I suck at metaphysics. And they are the only source we've got." She nods.

(Oh, just a day, but her eyes, how he's missed them.)

"Yes. But it doesn't hurt to be a bit suspicious of what they tell us."

"Okay. But I think I know why you want that. Because you do want that" And he looks away with that wistful expression she remembers so well.

"Why?"

"It's the same whenever something weird happens."

"Why?"

"Because it reminds you of… those days." And now he's smiling kindly at her, the soft light folding back his years and it's as if his youth returns for only a moment. "It might be a trick. It might be aliens! Everything might not really be the way it seems. You still miss that sometimes, I know."

"Don't you?"

OoO

He storms out –as much as a reasonably healthy man in his eighties can- and she goes after him, catching up easily. He stops and faces her, that ancient lightning burning in his eyes.

"No. I'm not doing this."

"Ro-"

"I am not deleting my emotions. I don't care what happens."

She looks at the anguished, despairing face, frowning, darkened and creased with those emotions he so valued.

"Are you sure?"

"There was a time when I wasn't human. When I was forced not to love you. Never again."

She grasps the withered, wrinkled hand in hers.

"Together; or not at all".

tbc...