Something From the Other Side
Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me.
To say that Harry Potter was surprised would have been an understatement. No, better, that would've been the understatement of the year.
"Excuse me?" Harry asked, his eyebrows hiding under his fringe.
The Boy Who Lived tried to search for any signs of fun or amusement on the scrawny boy's face to prove he was being pranked, but he could find none. The only thing Harry could see was absolute resolution, as if the little boy didn't mean anything else other than exactly what he had said. The boy was still pretty much terrified, if his shaking hands were anything to go by, but his eyes were set.
"I have a message. To you, from your father James." He said again, staring deep into Harry's eyes, apparently unaware of his incredulity. "He wanted me to..."
As Harry stood up quickly, the boy stopped talking and took one step backwards. Harry's temper raised so fast he didn't even notice he had stood and had closed his hands into fists, his eyes narrowed and fixed on the little boy, whose courage was then gone for good. His face, once filled with certainty, now showed fear, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly open.
"What THE HELL do you think you're joking about?" Harry shouted, his nails digging into his palms. Little Edward didn't say or do anything, but his lower lip started trembling. Harry couldn't care less, though. Of all days to be pranked or something, today, after what happened in the train, was certainly the worst day for that.
"Yo-your father... he-" the boy stuttered. Harry growled.
"Get away from me before I force you to!" He said, sharply.
"B-but-" Edward said, his confidence long gone.
Harry took another step forward, threateningly. He didn't care if was acting like a jerk, or if the boy was visibly shivering in front of him. He wouldn't be pranked, principally if it was something related to his parents.
After another quick glance towards the same point over the lake, the little boy looked again at Harry with his blue eyes already filled with tears, hurt evident in them. Then, in a matter of seconds, he turned around and ran away.
Harry couldn't help but feel a bit worse than he had been before, but at least the blond boy was gone, leaving the green-eyed teenager to dwell on his own misery a little bit more. At least now he didn't feel sad but rather angry.
It was already getting dark when Harry finally made it to the Common Room. He wasn't exactly happy, but at least he wasn't feeling very whiny, which was good enough for him. He had decided to call it a day nonetheless, so he started to make his way up to go to bed. What he didn't count on, though, was to be stopped by a girl with bushy brown hair and a tall red-haired boy full of freckles. He sighed deeply when he saw them blocking the way to the stairs, both of them looking annoyed.
"Harry!" Hermione said. "Where have you been all day?" She had her hands on her hips, and an angry expression on her face. Harry didn't see it, though, as he had barely looked up to properly acknowledge his friends.
"Yeah, mate, we've been worried sick!" Ron didn't seem angry at all, but a little bit relieved and tired.
As soon as his two friends took a better look at him, their expressions changed to worry.
"Harry, are you okay?" Hermione said, closing the distance between themselves and putting a hand on his shoulder. She had seen Harry brooding many times before; this time, however, she could see her friend was completely worn out, something that scared her a little, as she had never seen him in such a condition before. Ron seemed to be feeling the same, but apparently he believed much more on silent support.
"'mm okay, Mione." Harry said, his gaze still down. "I just wanted to be alone, that's all." He then turned and made his way into the dormitory.
The brown-haired witch bit her lower lip. It was obvious to her that her friend was far from okay. Sharing a quick glance with Ron, they followed their friend inside.
It was probably a good thing there wasn't anybody inside. Harry changed into his pajamas (Hermione had the decency of looking elsewhere, not that Harry seemed to even notice she was there) and climbed his bed.
"Mate." Ron tried, only barely saying the word. "Dinner hasn't even been served yet..."
"I don't care, I'm not hungry." Harry mumbled.
"Harry, have you eaten anything the whole day?" Hermione asked softly. She didn't get an answer, which, of course, was one nonetheless. "Listen, Harry, you can't keep on feeling down because of what happened-"
"Because what happened, Hermione?" Harry finally snapped, sitting on his bed. His face was contorted in anger, which made both his friends slightly and absently go backwards. "Are you talking about the fact that I fainted because of the dementor thing or that my parents died to save me?" *
"Chill, mate, we are just trying to be by your side-" Ron intervened.
"Well, I don't want you by my side now. I want to be ALONE, as I have ALWAYS BEEN!" Harry shouted, and with a strong pull, he closed the curtains around his bed, leaving his friends stunned on the other side.
Harry's spirits didn't get much higher the following day. He didn't act angry anymore though, and had acted civil towards his friends, even if he hadn't mentioned anything from the previous day. Of course Ron and Hermione knew better than to try to make him open up, but they still stayed around, giving their, albeit silent, unwavering support.
Deep inside, Harry just wanted to go through the day without giving too much of a thought about his parents or the incident on the train, but every time he had nothing in his mind, his thoughts seemed to wander back to those specific topics. Classes were a blissful break of the idleness he felt during the day, so Harry, for the first time, paid all his attention to the professor, no matter what class it was.
It wasn't until the following day that the Boy Who Lived started speaking normally to his friends, and it wouldn't be until the beginning of the following weekend when he was back to his normal/abnormal self.
Harry hadn't stopped to think about the little boy more than once or twice during these days, but, as the weekend got closer, his curiosity started showing up. He hadn't seen the boy around anymore (not that he had looked for him, anyway), and Harry still didn't have any clues about who he was. He could always ask someone, but he hadn't told anybody about that brief encounter, not even Hermione or Ron. Too many questions, he guessed.
After a while, though, he decided he didn't care. He just had to keep himself busy and he wouldn't think about any of those things. On Saturday, as he didn't have classes to focus on, he practiced Quidditch and played chess with Ron. Sunday finally arrived again, and Harry decided he wanted to go visit Hagrid.
"I'm going to help Ron with his Defense Against the Dark Arts homework." Hermione replied when Harry invited them to join him, and while Ron seemed tempted to go outside as well, a glare from the smart witch had him saying "Sorry, mate, Professor Lupin is the best ever, but his homework is surely a great pain in the-"
"Language, Ron!" Hermione snapped. Harry grinned, he couldn't agree any more. With both statements, by the way: while Professor Lupin's homework was indeed difficult, he was the best professor they had. He was not only excellent at teaching, like Prof. McGonagall and Prof. Flitwick, but he was as nice and gentle and funny as Hagrid. And he didn't show them potential killers like the latter, either (the hippogriff incident still sent shivers down Harry's spine).
While Harry got closer to Hagrid's Hut, feeling quite glad he had taken the opportunity to do all his homework while he didn't want to have free time, he finally saw the boy again, sitting alone behind one of the big stones of Sundial Garden, the stone circle close to the Covered Bridge. Harry barely noticed the boy, as he was quite hidden behind one of the biggest boulders, and because it was one of the farthest away.
Before stopping to think through about what he was doing, Harry walked up to the little boy, somehow not being noticed until he was just beside the blond lad. The boy jumped and hit himself hard against the big stone, his eyes filled with pain and fright. Harry recognized the misery, far too familiar not to, and despite wanting to keep angry because of the whole incident, Harry's heart seemed to have met the same destiny Draco's arm had, and now it was shredded as if a hippogriff had fought with it.
Sensing the boy was about to run away, Harry decided to say something.
"Hey, listen." He said with a calm voice that seemed to have no effect whatsoever on the little boy. "I'm sorry about the other day. I think you were making fun of me, as you were talking about..." Harry let his voice fade. The other boy seemed to relax a bit, but his uncertainty was still very palpable. With a sigh, Harry added. "Look, let's just start it all again." Harry reached for the little boy's hand, giving it a light shake. "I'm Harry Potter."
"E-Edward." The blond boy said, his voice barely higher than a whisper. Harry gave him a faint smile and moved to sit beside the place the boy had been sitting. After a couple of minutes, Edward sat again, still very uncomfortable and self-conscious.
"So, Edward. I see you are not wearing your robes again. What house do you belong to?" Harry decided that some light conversation would be better than talking about... that. Edward gave him a confused look again.
"I-I don't s-study here." Whichever answers Harry were expecting, that wasn't one. It took him almost a minute to recover from his surprise. He had never heard about a child who didn't study there wandering around Hogwarts. He was sure the boy had mentioned that before, though, but he hadn't given that specific fact enough attention.
"What are you doing here, then?" Harry asked, still slightly taken aback.
"Well..." Edward said. He looked at Harry, who could see the boy was afraid to say whatever he was going to say, before lowering his gaze again. "I came here because your father asked me to." He finished, barely audible.
Harry closed his eyes and took a deep, shaky breath.
"My father has been... gone for almost twelve years. You surely weren't even born when... it all happened." Harry tried to ignore the pain in his chest as he said that or the bubble of anger threatening to burst inside him. He finally looked back at the other boy and tried to catch his gaze. Edward seemed to be in an internal battle, as if he wanted to do something but didn't know if he should.
"This might be difficult to understand," Edward eventually said, after some seconds that felt like minutes to Harry. "But sometimes, when the person dies, they continue here."
"Are you talking about ghosts?" Harry asked. Was his father a ghost then? Harry almost snorted. He couldn't help but think about a taller version of himself wearing Nearly Headless Nick's clothes.
"No, no, not a ghost." Edward said, shaking his head. "Some... people believe they are called E-Earthbound Spirits."
Harry stared at the ground between his legs, thinking. He had never actually thought about what made a wizard or a witch become a ghost, much less about the possibility of existing other kinds of people in similar conditions. And listening to a kid like that one didn't help him believe it either. However, the certainty with which the boy said it made Harry wonder if it were true. Before voicing his doubts, though, Edward started talking again.
"I heard that ghosts were people who decided they wanted to stay behind, because they were afraid of moving on, or because, well, they just really didn't want to die." The boy said, matter-of-factly, but then, his expression got considerably darker. "And then, there are e-earthbound spirits. They always seem to be surprised by their dead. And they normally die in tragic or fast way, like being killed or in an accident."
The boy seemed lost in his thoughts for a few seconds. Harry didn't really know what to say, so he kept silent. He didn't know if he was more stunned by the hard-to-believe story, or by the maturity of the young boy. He was surely young, that much was obvious, but his words were filled with experience and feelings. However, the story was still too far-fechted, and it made Harry wonder if perhaps this is a Wizarding Fairy Tale he wasn't aware of.
"They seem to be stuck between moving on and staying behind, you know... They are always talking about having to do something, or that someone is waiting for them." The boy continued, snapping Harry out of his thoughts. "Your f... I have some friends who say they have 'u-unfinished business'." The boy semi-stuttered the last words, as if he didn't actually know what they meant.
"Why can you see them while I can't?" Harry asked, his head a little bit bent, staring down, while he pulled more and more pieces of grass off of the ground between his legs, his hesitance making it obvious he wasn't really sure about the whole thing. It didn't mean, though, that Harry Potter believed in anything brought up by the blond boy. He just didn't know what to think of it yet.
It took him some minutes to turn his head to the boy, wondering why Edward hadn't said anything. Harry saw two big round blue eyes, and the intensity of the boy's feelings make him shudder inside. He saw many emotions there, none of which he liked.
"I don't know, okay? I just see them. I haven't met other people who can see them, but I have always seen them. Since I was a little kid, they were around, desperately trying to make people talk to them, do what they wanted, or even screaming things or names." It seemed something had broken free. Edward's eyes visibly lost focus, and some small tears started forming, but the boy continued speaking, while Harry listened in horror, his mouth a bit gaped. "If they sense I can see them, they come and ask me to help them. If I can, they get happy and move on, sometimes only then knowing what happened to them. They don't understand they are dead. They never know they are, I mean, because if they focus enough, or if they get emotional enough, they can touch or even move things." the boy shuddered. "But then, if I can't help them, or if they stay alone for too long, they start getting... mad. Scary. They become less like a person. Until one day when they just... break. And then they become less like people and more like animals or monsters." Tears ran freely on Edward's face, while Harry's utter shock kept him silent, only absorbing painfully every word the other boy said. "They either scream or whisper things, hurt themselves and destroy their clothes. Sometimes they even try to h-hurt m-me,"
Edward hid his face in his hands, sobbing. Harry awkwardly tried to comfort him by putting a hand on his shoulder, making the boy flinch and snap his head up. He relaxed a bit after seeing it was just Harry. They gave each other silent support for sometime before the blond boy decided to speak again.
"Harry... What I need to tell you is... Some years ago, when I was living in a wizarding orphanage, I accidentally found another of those spirits." His voice lowered so much it became nothing more than a whisper. "He was desperately trying to find you, Harry. At first, I didn't know it was you, the famous Harry Potter. But that man was so, so sad, it hurt to see." Edward glanced a little over Harry's shoulder, which made the green eyed boy to feel an eerie sensation regarding that direction.
"That man, Harry, turned out to be your father. He looked terrible, completely worn out, and he seemed about to lose it. But he was still sane." The boy's blue eyes, now entirely dry of tears, still shone beautifully, while a shy smile began to form in his lips. "He just wanted to know where you were, how you were, if you were okay. As my moth- I told him what I had heard, the stories about your survival, he calmed down. And, after some time, he managed to convince me to come here and tell you this."
Harry let go a breath he didn't even know he had been holding. And then he made himself inhale sharply. Had he forgotten how to breathe properly?
"Is... Is my f-father... here?" He asked, almost breathless. His voice was shaky and he felt goosebumps all over his body. When had he started to believe?
What Harry couldn't see, on the side that wasn't occupied by Edward, was the tall, thin but muscled man, with hazel eyes and untidy hair, smiling and crying softly at the same time.
The blond boy smiled genuinely. "Yes. He's here."
"W-what... what is h-he d-doing?" Harry almost didn't hear himself, so low his voice was. A hurricane of emotions was roaring inside him, making it impossible for him to feel anything. He felt so many things that he ended up feeling nothing at all.
"Now, he's crying, but he's happy, I think, and he's raising his hand. Oh, I think he is going to..."
Harry didn't need Edward to finish whatever it was he was saying, because just as the blond boy was speaking, he felt the soft and strangely warm touch on his shoulder. His whole body felt numb, as if it concentrated everything on his shoulder to be able to feel that.
And then, Harry didn't feel anything anymore as darkness flooded him completely.
A.N.: There you go, guys. This is where this story is going. I hope you enjoyed it. Please, overlook the mistakes and errors, this chapter hasn't been beta-ed. There are some things that may seem strange or even incoherent, but I decided to make things this way. Many things are going to change, and remember that Edward might not be right about everything he said. Another thing is, as you can see, I changed some things from canon. Harry knew it was his mother screaming, okay? I changed that. Hope you don't mind too much. haha
See you later! ;)
