Death came smoothly, with all the familiarity of donning a warm cloak. Harry was surprised; he has expected it to hurt more. But no, there was merely the expected flash of a light as green as his own eyes, and then nothing but a comforting darkness. Harry reveled in the perfect quiet, the calm stillness, and the serene sense of peace that filled him. He smiled softly, feeling as though the burden of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. He laid there, eyes closed, anticipating the everlasting slumber he knew was to come. But instead of that final sleep, a strange restlessness seeped into his consciousness. Brow furrowed, he shifted slightly. Slowly, the quiet was filled with whispered disjointed phrases-
-"Yer a wizard, Harry…"
-"I will not pay for some crackpot old fool to teach him magic tricks!"
-"You've got your mother's eyes…"
-"Harry Potter…our newest celebrity…"
-Followed by vibrant memories that danced across his mind-
-The darkness of his cupboard, dust falling as Dudley stomped up the stairs…
-Olivander's expression as Harry's wand chose him…
-Molly Weasley loudly asking the platform number as she herded her brood through King's Cross Station…
("But wait," a little voice in the back of his mind whispered, "Didn't she attend Hogwarts herself for seven years, and then send her children off on the train every year for nine? Shouldn't she have already known the platform number?")
-The thick parchment his Hogwarts acceptance letter was written on…
("Ah," that little voice murmured, "Come to think of it, wasn't your letter addressed to the cupboard under the stairs?")
-The start of term feast in which Albus Dumbledore solemnly warned that the third year corridor was out of bounds to any student who did not wish to die a very painful death…
("Hmm…" the voice mused. "Bringing a troll, a three-headed dog, and a possessed professor into a school filled with children…")
-Hermione clutching him tightly as she and Harry rode Buckbeak to the north tower to rescue Sirius Black…
("An innocent man condemned to life in prison without a trial…")
-The grave ("But not surprised," the voice whispered) look on Dumbledore's face as Harry Potter's name came out of the Goblet of Fire…
-Blood seeping from the back of his hand as Harry was forced to carve "I must not tell lies" into his skin…
("Which was punishment from a teacher, no less…")
Harry's breathing became harsh and ragged as his memories assaulted him. No, he refused to believe it. The voice was lying. Everything that had happened to him was chance, nothing more. Dumbledore wouldn't orchestrate any of the hardships he had to go through. Dumbledore wouldn't…
"Wouldn't let your parents die?"
Harry stiffened.
"Oh, Harry…" the voice said sympathetically. "Albus Dumbledore sent your parents into hiding…he set up the Fidelius Charm himself. Your parents trusted him explicitly. Surely you don't believe they switched secret keepers without him knowing? "
Harry couldn't comprehend the implications of that; they sent his mind spinning and his stomach roiling. Dumbledore wasn't evil…
"Evil?" the voice said, amused. "Most certainly not. Albus Dumbledore was the greatest advocate for the Light side possible. He wanted to defeat the Dark…at any cost."
Harry shuddered. Death was nothing he had expected. Shouldn't there be a bright light, maybe his mother to greet him and explain things? Why was he worrying about all of this when it had already ended?
"Ah, young Harry," the voice chided, "absolutely nothing has ended. Quite the opposite, in fact. Everything is just beginning. As Albus Dumbledore himself once said, death is nothing but the next great adventure!"
Harry didn't think he particularly liked the sound of that. When it came to him, it seemed nothing was ever forthright and easy.
Not even Death.