Disclaimer: Anything that is in any way affiliated with Harry Potter (I'm talking characters, setting etc.) belongs to JKR. I just like to play with her ideas.
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I'm staring out into the night, trying to hide the pain.
I'm going to the place where love and feeling good don't ever cost a thing.
And the pain you feel's a different kind of pain.
Well I'm going home, back to the place where I belong,
And where your love has always been enough for me,
I'm not running from, no, I think you got me all wrong.
I don't regret this life I chose for me.
But these places and these faces are getting old,
So I'm going home.
- Home. Chris Dauntry
Death for the Inaccessible
8th February 2003Really, when you thought about it, life was simply an arrival, just as death was simply a departure. Harry Potter gazed into the fluttering fabric that covered the old stone archway thoughtfully. Although not an Unspeakable, being an Auror certainly had its perks. Or, rather, being Harry Potter had its perks. Which, more or less, meant that the Unspeakables let him into this chamber without question or argument: it had surrendered its secrets to him long ago, and there was nothing more for them to protect from him.
The cavernous amphitheatre that Harry had first stumbled across at the age of fifteen seemed to have shrunken over the years. The great rows of stone benches which ran around the walls seemed a little less cold and oppressive: and the great archway, whilst no less impressive, did not seem half so fearsome, anymore. The air did not seem so cold and empty, the shadows less menacing, the ambiance more calming.
Harry often came here, just to think. He would sit upon the stone benches and stare at the spot where Sirius had died, simply... drifted away... and he would just… be. Just to be was a gift, when you were Harry Potter.
Over the years Harry had become quite well acquainted with the old archway: so much so that he no longer heard the distant, incoherent whispers and screams. Instead, he heard snatches of laughter, and occasionally, conversation. Some days, he could even pick the voices: Sirius would remark something completely inappropriate, a man would laugh, and a female voice would chastise him. Sometimes, the man had Lupin's laugh, and the woman Tonks' wry amusement. More often than not, though, Harry suspected the voices were those of his parents: his father deeply amused by his old friend, and his mother fondly disapproving.
Once, several years ago, Ginny had accompanied him. He had watched as the woman he loved approached the great arch, hands stretched out timidly, eyes widening with fright as she drew closer. This place held nothing but dark memories for her: of pain and loss and fear. He had not asked what she had heard, for the tears running down her face had been knowledge enough, and her evident distress had quickly ended their visit. Ginny knew that this place was his sanctuary: she knew of the voices, and of the love he felt present in that great room, and she understood his compulsion to return, even though she herself did not feel it. Ginny Potter heard screams when she approached the Veil, just as he himself had heard them, once.
She had not accompanied him again. Instead, she kissed him soundly and reminded him to be home in time for tea.
Sometimes, Harry would talk to the Veil, and he fancied that he heard the voices pause to listen. He had visited scarce days after defeating Voldemort; and once again when he had been planning to propose to Ginny. Although the voices never responded, it was an odd comfort to know that just maybe, they could hear his voice, just as he heard them. And Harry Potter needed comfort.
"Ginny's pregnant," he whispered to the Veil, watching it flutter as the voices paused. "She's pregnant, and I'm happy, I really truly am happy…"
He imagined the emotions that would filter across their faces. Lily, pleased but concerned, and James, gripping her hands proudly, eyes filled with longing; Sirius beaming, and Lupin and Tonks exchanging grins of excitement…
"But I'm scared," Harry continued softly." I don't know how to be a father… to be in a family. Which isn't your fault," he added hurriedly. "I just… I need my family, and you're all I have."
It almost seemed cruel; that they could sit there, separated by a simple grey Veil, and yet be so far away.
Harry pressed his hands to the thin, fluttering Veil, feeling nothing but air. The Veil did not exist in life: only in death would he be able to examine its intricate folds.
This inaccessibility of death was its cruelest blow by far.
"Harry?"
Harry jumped, glancing at the Veil ludicrously. Was it possible?
"No, you idiot, over here!"
And Harry registered it was the voice of his best friend and brother-in-law, who strolled down through the great amphitheatre to greet him. Ron's eyes were shining with glee and held none of their usual nervousness in relation to his proximity to the Veil, and as they met halfway, he embraced Harry. Harry patted his back awkwardly, confused.
Ron pulled away, his beam every bit as bright as Harry had imagined Sirius' to be, and suddenly he understood. A slow smile filtered across his face.
"A father, Harry!" Ron was saying, his eyes huge. "You, you and Gin… Merlin, I can't imagine it. That's fantastic news!"
Harry grinned, raking a hand through his hair. "It is. I can't believe it." His voice was a hoarse whisper, as though to speak his disbelief aloud would be to prove the whole situation a figment of his imagination.
"Hermione's going to be at me for kids, now, mind you, and honestly… You know how she is!"
Harry grinned. "Look, if I can be a father, I'm sure you'll do just fine. Family's important," he added softly.
Ron nodded sagely. "Oh yes – and speaking of family, Gin wants you home soon to help tackle Mum and Dad. You know how Mum was when Fleur fell pregnant, and since Ginny's her only daughter…"
Harry gave him a playful salute. "Right you are, I'd better hurry then - but I'll see you tonight, yeah? Dinner?"
Ron eyed the Veil apprehensively as Harry made his way back toward the entrance. Suddenly realising he was very nearly alone, Ron gave a shout, breaking into a run to catch up with his best friend.
Waiting by the doorway, Harry gave the Veil a reluctant smile. Sorry about the interruption, the smile seemed to say. I have to get back to living. But I'll come back soon, I promise…
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A/N: This is not the original chapter two. The original chapter two has now become a one-shot, Departure, because upon general consensus, it no longer fit with the story (or canon). I was planning this as a later chapter, but it also fits here quite nicely, I think. Anyway, as always I would love to hear your thoughts, so please leave me a review! (However, if you have already reviewed the previous chapter two you won't be able to do so again. Perhaps you might just add your thoughts to another review? I'd really appreciate the feedback!) Thanks for reading,
Lexie