~*~*~ Chapter Twenty Four ~*~*~

Endings

An official looking owl swooped down to the table and Harry looked up in surprise when it halted in front of Catalina. She shared a worried look with him, and pulled the letter it was carrying from it. It immediately swooped into the air and out through the window.

"Whose it from?" he asked as she looked down at the hastily written address on the front.

She flipped it over and took in the seal, eyes widening slightly.

"St Mungo's," she said in an odd voice, before peeling it open.

Her fingers shook as she read the letter and Harry could feel the pain, fear and desperation coming off of her in waves, almost choking him. He knew what the letter was going to be about as soon as she told him where it was from, he knew she did as well - they all did. She laid the letter down on her plate, casting a panicked eye across the table immediately in front of her.

"What." began Hermione through a tight throat, "what did it say?"

Catalina closed her eyes and took a shaky sip of her water. Her hands were trembling that much she could hardly keep the glass steady and with a loud thunk, dropped it down onto the table. She gulped a few times before answering the question.

"She's dying."

Harry sucked in his breath, he knew it. He knew this was going to happen - they'd all known for so long, but now it was actually happening, he couldn't believe it.

"Catalina." began Harry, unsure of what to say, or what he could say.

"I'll go to see Dumbledore after breakfast," she told him, as if she were discussing something as simple as entertainment plans for the long nights in the common room.

Harry didn't say anything, he knew she wasn't listening. He knew her too well by now. He could feel the emotions, he knew what she was thinking, he always would know more than Ron and Hermione would. So it was a heavy and oppressive breakfast they had, no one spoke. They were all thinking about the news - how they would feel if it were them. Harry however, would never have to think these thoughts, he already knew, and he could tell that it had opened up the newly healed wounds Ron held over Percy.

They got up to go to their lessons, and unconsciously walked Catalina to Dumbledore's office. When they stopped outside, Ron and Hermione just kept on going, for which Harry was grateful, they turned the corner and Harry faced her.

"There's nothing I can do," she said quietly, raising her dry eyes to his, "is there?"

"You can be there," he said finally, when the words came to him.

She nodded and turned to the gargoyle and speaking the password. She waited a second.

"Could you.come up with me?" she asked him as she stared at the gargoyles smirking face.

"Of course."

They took the stairs to Dumbledore's office door, where he was waiting with a member of the Order. He had been expecting them, Harry could tell and he didn't seem surprised to see him with her. He motioned to them to sit down, and Harry took the chair next to Catalina.

"I assume you've heard the news Catalina?" he asked her gently, while she nodded dumbly, "I can't imagine how you're feeling right now.but I hope you can understand that there are people here who can help you."

His gaze slid over to Harry, who was watching Catalina closely. She was staring at a patch of carpet, not seemingly hearing anything.

"Can I go and see her?" she asked in a small voice, as if her request might be declined.

"Of course, Sylvia will take you to St. Mungo's for as long as you need," said Dumbledore softly, motioning to the awaiting Order member.

She nodded blankly, then suddenly looked across to Harry with pleading eyes. She looked at Dumbledore who seemed to sense her unspoken question.

"You may take whomever you need, for support," he said, his old eyes looking saddened.

She nodded and turned as if to ask Harry permission but he just nodded. She didn't really need to ask.

"Go and get your cloaks and bags, and you can take the floo to Newcastle Station," said Dumbledore, standing up while everyone followed, "but hurry, you haven't much time."

Harry and Catalina walked quickly down to Gryffindor Tower in silence, left alone with their thoughts. Harry just wished he could give her a hug, tell her how sorry he was, comfort her in some way, but he knew this was just going to make things a million times worse. They split off into their own dorms, retrieving cloaks and packing an overnight bag just in case. Harry scrawled a hurried note a put in onto Ron's bed, explaining where they had gone, as if they needed any clue.

He waited for Catalina in the common room, before finally going up to her dorm when she didn't show. He found her sitting on her trunk, bag in hand, cloak already wrapped her shoulders, but not moving. She was staring down at her old rag doll, which was lying lifeless in her hands.

"We haven't got long," Harry told her quietly.

"I know," she replied, squeezing her eyes shut painfully.

"We better go," he said, picking the bag up.

"I know," she repeated, squeezing the doll tightly in the middle.

"Are you ready?" he asked her softly.

"No," she said, getting up anyway.

He led the way down to Dumbledore's office, where the fire was already crackling in the grate. Sylvia stepped forward first, and disappeared into the flames. Catalina went next, and before Harry followed Dumbledore held out an arm gentle arm.

"This is going to be tough Harry," he told him seriously, "keep an especially close watch on her."

Harry nodded, "I will."

"Off you go, I'll keep in contact with the hospital, if you need anyone, then we'll come."

He merely just nodded again and stepped through the flames before emerging into the now familiar floo room of Newcastle Station, which was a hive of activity. Thankfully nobody noticed them and they walked across the courtyard in the howling gale, cloaks tossed around in the air.

Sylvia led the way into the hospital, and they were led down the intensive care ward Catalina had been in, met by the familiar face of Dr Rahn.

"Catalina, Harry, it's good to see you again, though not under these circumstances of course," he said with a sad look in his eyes.

"Yes, hello doctor," said Harry, speaking for Catalina who was looking around the place with haunted, reminiscent eyes.

"Follow me," he said leading them in a quick pace down the endless corridors.

He spoke quickly as they hurried down the echoing tunnels, as if he knew there wasn't much time, and the thought worried Harry even more.

"I'm sorry to tell you you're mother is very ill Catalina," he said with a sorrowful look towards her, "and you must understand that there is nothing we can do now.only wait. But there isn't much time."

She nodded heavily, and Harry felt his own heart constrict with pain for this person he'd never met before. The doctor explained about her mothers condition - how she had refused to eat for the past two weeks, how she was gradually wasting away into nothing and Harry felt sick. It wasn't as of it wasn't curable, Catalina's mother was killing herself.

"She did ask to see you before.before the end," said the doctor, "please try not be shocked by her appearance."

Harry nodded and Catalina stumbled along the corridor, her teeth chewing onto her lips so much they left bright red spots. She walked very slowly after Dr Rahn now, as if wanting to put off the moment so long that it would never happen. He led them to a room much like Catalina's old one and Harry moved in front of the window, his heart jumping into his throat at the sight. A young looking woman was lying on the large white bed, looking impossibly small and fragile.

Harry took in the sight with a thumping heart, a muggle-looking oxygen mask over her mouth, as her chest rose and fell in small shallow breaths. The face that was so much like Catalina's it was hard to see the difference, was shrunken and had a dark yellow tinge. Her black hair was limp and dull and there was large patches where it had fallen out. Her eyes were a dull brown and were ringed by dark shadows and lines that deceived her youthful appearance.

"Mama," choked Catalina beside him, raising her hand to the glass.

Harry was unpleasantly reminded of Catalina when she was at her trial, and her subsequent hospitalisation. They had both acquired the same horrible skin tone, look of ulitmate exhaustion and illness. Her similarity to her mother was almost uncanny to the point where Harry thought he was back visiting Catalina in hospital.

"Come in Catalina," said Dr Rahn, holding the door open, "hurry."

She walked through and Harry held back, feeling that this was something she had to do on her own. However she turned to him, begging for him to follow. He walked in with her hesitantly and she walked towards her mother's bed, visibly shaking.

"Mama?" she asked in a cracked voice.

Her mother pulled open her eyes groggily, and fixed them on her daughter. A heavy hand pulled away the mask.

"Beti," she rasped, her voice sounding coarse as sandpaper and caused Catalina to give another shudder.

"Oh mama," she moaned, running forwards and giving the woman a fierce kiss on her forehead.

Catalina hugged the woman tightly, as she merely lay on the bed, unable to return the emotions. Catalina straightened up, and brushed the hair off her mother's face as she pulled in a rattling breath. Harry recognised the sound and knew now why people called it the 'death rattle'. It sounded as if the air were whistling through the branches of an ancient, dry tree - creaking and groaning as if each one was the last. He shuddered on the inside to see what the woman had become compared to the photo's he had seen of her.

"The doctor say's you're going to be fine," rambled Catalina, eyes never leaving the face of her mother, "just fine they say.right as rain - just like the English say!"

She gave another deep rattling breath, and winced slightly, as if in pain.

"You're..right," she croaked, "I'll be.fine soon beti."

Harry winced at the woman's words and Catalina gave a huge gulp, fighting the tears of grief that were building up. She had promised herself not to cry in front of her mother, not to acknowledge what was happening.

"I'm going to take care of you from now on," said Catalina in a choked voice, "me and Harry will, and you can get better. And we'll get a new house, a be a family again.Everything's going to be better then."

The woman looked across to Harry slowly who tried to give her a comforting, reassuring smile, but what came out was nothing more than a grimace. Catalina beckoned him over with a shaking hand and he stumbled over, not sure of what to do or say. He sat down on the left-hand side of the bed, trying not to betray the situation and let her know how serious it was.

The dying woman lifted a heavy arm and brushed Harry's cheek affectionately, he could feel the bones of her finger's through her translucent skin, the freezing cold digits that seemed dead already.

"Ah beti.you take care.of my little girl." she managed to say, pleading with her eyes that seemed the only thing of her alive, "she's so young.she doesn't deserve.this life.we have created for her."

Catalina gave a small sob and Harry nodded.

"I will, I promise," he told her, his own voice feeling weak.

She screwed her eyes up, obviously in pain, causing Catalina to contain a shuddering sob. Her mother turned her eyes towards her, and gave a fond smile, twisted by another grimace of pain half way through.

"You're so beautiful." she managed to croak out, "and I know you'll fight.you always have. One day you'll.understand.why.I did it.this..."

"No mama," she sobbed, "I wont."

Catalina leaned forward and pulled her mother's unresisting body into her arms pleading with her eyes screwed tight as her mother's cold hand gripped Harry's hand.

"Mama don't go, please don't go.don't leave me, please mama, please, please," she whispered.

"Its my...time, beti," she managed to whisper, "I love.you."

"I love you," Catalina told her with such passion in her voice that Harry had never heard before.

The woman closed her eyes and Catalina lay her back onto the pillows. They watched in silence as her breathing got shallower while Catalina continually smoothed down her mother's sheets, stroked her cheek, kissed her head. Anything to let her mother know that in her last few minutes of her life, her daughter was there, and she had forgiven her for everything that gone before this moment. Harry could feel a lump in his own throat as he watched the unfolding scene, silent tears poured down Catalina's face as she grasped hold of her mothers other hand.

Her mother gave it a gentle squeeze, before taking in another rattling breath. Then she relaxed, and let out a small sigh - her last. Catalina gave another choked sob, and shook her mothers hand slightly.

"Mama?" she pleaded, "mama? Not yet! Wake up mama, wake up, please wake up."

But she never would. Harry knew before the doctors rushed in and began casting their charms and spells they wouldn't be able to revive her. Mary Firelight had given up, she had brought about her death on her own terms, and she was never going to wake for anyone. Not even for Catalina who kept shaking her mother and pleading with her desperately, making Harry's heart break. She seemed to truly believe she could wake up her mother, and ignored the commands of the doctors to move out of the way.

Harry however backed away until his back hit the back wall, watching the unfolding scene feeling completely detached. Catalina's shrieks of grief mingling with the hurried conversations between doctors into an unbearable sound he just wanted to block out. She finally moved away from the bed, standing in the middle of the room begging the doctors to wake her up.

"Just another minute!" she was crying, "another minute, please! I didn't tell her everything I wanted to say! Please, anything, a few seconds! Anything!"

But the doctors merely shook their heads in resignation.

Catalina would never get her last chance, her last few more seconds with her mother.

When they finally gave up her howls of grief filled the room and Harry wanted to walk over to her, to let her know that he was there for her somehow, but his legs felt like lead. She turned around to him and he watched helplessly as the furious, grief filled tears poured down her face.

In one movement she screwed up her face in agony and walked forward towards him quickly. She reached out and wrapped her arms around Harry desperately, burying her head into his robes. After a brief moment of confusion he wrapped his own arms around her tightly, rocking her slightly as he listened to her sobs of grief.

He placed his chin on top of her head and watched the doctors in silence as they pulled the white sheet over her mothers head, shaking their own as they left the room quietly on Dr Rahn's orders. Harry could feel her fists clenching the material of his robes tightly and the way she had buried her face deep into the shoulder of his robes, trying to block out the world around them.

"I should have.done.something," she said in a low, fierce voice.

"There was nothing anyone could do," he whispered to her calmly, eyes fixated on what lay underneath the white sheet.

"It's not true," she cried angrily, "it's not! All this magic! All this power that everyone's so desperate to get their hands on.and we can't do anything! Nothing at all! We're the powerless ones aren't we?"

"Not even magic can cheat death," he told her as she took a deep gulp of air.

She laid her head on the side of his shoulder, and looked in front of her with furiously blinking eyes as the tears carved tracks down her cheeks, splashing off her chin and leaving a bitter salty taste on her lips. She knew that if she'd just had the chance she could have done something. As she nearly got her tears under control the image of her mothers pain creased face flashed into her mind. She had suffered for such a long time, and even the end wasn't painless for her.

Harry had no idea how long they stood there, swaying with the force of emotion that could be felt from the loss of the person in front of them. In a way Harry was almost glad his parents had died when he was so young, so he never had to go through this. Her pain was so suffocating, so all encompassing that he didn't know how she could continue to breathe. She was holding onto him so tightly, as if she thought if she let go anymore, he would leave her as well.

Eventually however, even Catalina ran out of the mindless energy that had possessed her and her sobs quietened. He smoothed her hair down as her breathing returned to an even pace, noticing more and more how he was holding her up.

He realised she had fallen asleep, and when Dr Rahn returned, he motioned for Harry to follow him. He picked up Catalina carefully, trying not to wake her and followed the doctor, who led him to a small room, with a low bed. He stretched her out and pulled the white sheets up the her chin, to try and block out the cold that was causing her to shiver violently, even in her sleep.

He followed the doctor out, nodding to the Order guard who was standing beside the door, as Dr Rahn led the way to the office and snapped the doors shut.

"She will benefit from the sleep," said Dr Rahn heavily, his eyes looked saddened and downcast.

Harry nodded silently, and rubbed his face tiredly with his hands, he could feel his own track marks of salt down his cheeks.

"I realise that this is not the best time Harry, but there are some papers to sign. Things to organise." began the doctor looking awkward at his request, "I don't want to trouble Catalina."

"I'll sort them out," said Harry leaning forward, "what needs to be done?"

"You need to confirm time of death on this sheet here, sign the release forms here, so her body can be put in the mortuary," began the doctor, pulling out a sheaf of parchment's and pushing them towards Harry, "also we need to sort out the funeral."

So Harry had to spend the next half an hour filling out forms he didn't know half the answers to, and writing owls to funeral parlours, trying to make sense of the hastily written will completed only the day before. He was left in Dr Rahns office and conducted everything in silence, seeing only the look on the woman's face when she accepted the fate she had created for herself. How could she have done it, was all he could think. How could she put everyone through that trauma so selfishly, how could she have done that to her only daughter?

It was so unnecessary he thought bitterly. Mary Firelight could have lived for years and years, she could have seen Catalina grow up, been at her graduation, wish her luck on her first day of work, sit in the front pew and cry at her wedding, hold her grandchild in her arms.But she'd thrown it all away and died of a broken heart instead.

Harry could only feel a minuscule amount of what Catalina must have been, but it was still choking him. All he could think about was what if he was in her position. What if his mother hadn't sacrificed her life to save him, what if she'd committed suicide? How would it plague him for years - what did he do wrong, could he have prevented it?

But he knew no one could have prevented Mary Firelight's decision, she had believed it was her time and that was it.

"All finished Harry?" asked Dr Rahn slipping into the seat next to him.

"Yeah, I think so," he sighed, rubbing his itchy eyes tiresomely, "is Catalina ok?"

"She's still asleep," he told him, "is there anyone we should call?"

Harry racked his brains, the only people he could think about was Mary's estranged parents, who had never seemed to particularly care about her. They had never visited her in hospital, or took Catalina to see her. Harry told Dr Rahn anyway, they needed to know.

"Catalina needs to identify the body before she leaves," Dr Rahn told him, and Harry was surprised to see how emotional he looked about this particular case - he must see it every day.

"Why, you know it's hers," said Harry, his eyes feeling even itchier now, as all he wanted to do was sleep.

"Hospital regulations," said the doctor with a frown, "to make sure no potions have been used to disguise the person, you understand I'm sure. It's also sometimes good for the relative.one last goodbye."

Harry nodded heavily, feeling slightly lost and overwhelmed by all the paperwork and rules - why wasn't anyone here to help them? They were sixteen years old for Christsakes and they were doing it alone.

"You must understand that we did everything we could to save her Harry," said the doctor in a strained voice.

"But some people don't want to be saved," finished Harry, staring at the wall with unseeing eyes, "I just, I just don't understand."

Dr Rahn nodded, as if he understood Harry's statement that could have applied to anything. He gave a few consoling words that Harry realised he must have said many times before, they had that recycled quality about them, before standing up to go. He offered Harry the use of the muggle telephone that was unexplainably sitting on his desk, before striding out of the room.

He picked it up hesitantly, biting his lip with indecision before he dialled Remus's house number he had committed to memory in case of emergency.

It rang five times before Harry heard the suspicious voice of Sirius answer.

"Sirius, it's me," said Harry though his dry throat.

"Harry?" asked Sirius in alarm, "where are you?"

"St Mungo's," he said wearily.

"Why? What's happened? Are you ok?" demanded Sirius, fear coating his voice.

"I'm fine. It's Catalina's mum," he said in a shaking voice, "she just.died."

"Sweet Merlin," breathed Sirius, sounding deeply shocked, "I'm coming right now-"

"No," cut in Harry quickly, "it's ok, I've got it under control. It'll only make things worse."

"Are you sure?" he asked, sensing that Harry was probably right.

"Yeah," he replied, "I guess I just needed to tell you.sorry for scaring you."

"Don't be," said Sirius, "I'll speak to Dumbledore, find out what's going to happen."

"Ok," was all Harry could say, before pinching the bridge of his nose.

"What happened?" asked Sirius hesitantly.

Harry waited a long time before replying, which he did in a choked voice.

"I don't know.Catalina got a letter this morning, and we came." he began, before furiously wiping his eyes, "she just died Sirius, right in front of us.and there was nothing we could do. She just.died."

"Harry, I don't know what to say," said Sirius in a low voice, "only that at least now she's been put out of her suffering."

"Death's ok for her though," said Harry bitterly, "but what about Catalina?"

"Death is always hardest for those left behind," was all Sirius could say.

Harry was pacing in front of the table as he cradled the phone, wiping his face again. Sirius seemed to understand the silence and after a few moments asked, "How's Catalina?"

"Asleep."

Harry knew it wasn't the answer Sirius was questioning, but what could he say? She was fine?

"Are you sure you don't want me to come down?"

"No," said Harry fiercely, "I can take care of this."

Sirius seemed to recognise the no-nonsense tone in Harry's voice - taking out his confusion and conflicting thoughts out on the only person he could.

"Yes," said Sirius heavily, "I learned a long time ago that if there's anyone that can take care of something like this, it's you."

"Yeah whatever, listen, I've got to go. See you Sirius," said Harry, dropping down the phone effectively cutting off his Godfather.

He rubbed his face again before walking back down to the room Catalina was in. The Order member was still on guard at the door, and let Harry in without a word.

He let his eyes adjust to the dark first, before feeling towards the bed she was asleep on, curled up in an awkward ball, still shivering. He felt her forehead, which was freezing cold, as were hands so he pulled some thick blankets from the cupboard and laid them over her, for all the good they did. He had promised her mother he would look after her, and it would start right that second.

He finally sat down on a small plastic chair next to the bed and leaned his head against the wall. Pounding thoughts were running through his mind - would her father know, what did he think, did he feel anything? But most of all, what would happen to Catalina now. She had no home, except the unwelcome one in Ireland, she had no money, she could never receive her inheritance with Charles Firelight still alive to claim it. At least Harry had Sirius and Remus, and even Hagrid and Dumbledore he knew he could always rely on - who did Catalina have?

He looked down at her wearily, and reached out to stroke her long black hair that had formed a shield for her face. She had him and Ron and Hermione and that was it - what sort of life could they provide her with? He heard her give a slight moan and he looked down in alarm as he felt the light rush of emotions waking up provided for them. She seemed confused to her whereabouts and then the realisation hit her, hit both of them, with the force of ten tons of bricks.

"It wasn't a dream," she said hoarsely.

"No," he replied, not bothering to wonder how she knew he was in there with her.

"Oh Harry," she said painfully, taking a shuddering gasp.

He climbed off his chair and sat on the side of the bed and wrapped a slightly fearful arm around her, but she didn't push him away anymore and merely sank into his robes. They sat there for a long time, as she relived every last second of her mothers life, knowing of all the things she should have said, could have told her - but didn't.

How could she have sat and finished breakfast first? That was another ten minutes she could have had with her mother, and wallow around in her room instead of packing, that was another ten minutes.that was twenty minutes extra she could have had and didn't because she was too stupid and scared to come here again. Too busy thinking of herself and not her mother. She cursed herself over and over again in her head, forgetting where she was and who with for a few minutes.

Harry had violent pins and needles in his legs and a horrible crick in his neck developing as he saw the last rays of pale sunlight fall behind the houses through the crack in the blind. He couldn't believe that this morning they had been in Gryffindor Tower, and now they were here. Catalina wasn't crying anymore, only staring off into the distance in front of her as he smoothed down her hair with a dead arm.

"I didn't think she was actually going to go," she said in a hollow voice a few hours later.

Harry nodded, only half-awake, "We never do."

"I always thought she was going to get better," she said digging her nails into his robes, "I always did, even when I said I didn't.I always did."

Harry didn't know what to say, he knew nothing could console her, so he kept quiet, just hugging her so she knew at least, that he hadn't left her yet.

"I didn't want her to suffer," she managed to croak out, "she was supposed to die an old lady, in her sleep, had a long life."

"If you believe it, she's gone to a better place," said Harry quietly, "somewhere where she doesn't have the cares she carried here."

She nodded into his robes and he wondered what Catalina believed in, he certainly knew her mother had believed in something.

"I don't understand," she whispered.

"What?"

"I don't understand how she can be here one moment." she said her voice breaking.

Harry merely pulled towards her tighter, he really couldn't understand. How could somebody be alive one moment, and gone the next.all in a second. How could you loose a lifetime of memories, thoughts and feeling just like that?

Harry had known about death for a long time, seen and felt its devastating effects for himself, but he never understood it.

He never thought he would.

"Why," she whispered, "why did she leave me.did she not love me?"

"Of course she did Catalina," he sighed, pulling her to him tighter.

"Then why would she leave me?" she choked out, "why?"

"I don't know," he told her truthfully, "sometimes, we just don't have control over a situation.and sometimes we do. Your mum.she had the choice, and she thought she was doing the right thing."

Catalina nodded and the dull light of dusk finally faded into pitch black, and Harry carefully lit a candle, which cast dancing shadows on the wall. Harry continued to smooth down her long black hair and they sat in silence, hearing the dim sounds of the hospital all around them. He tried to concentrate on these sounds, and block out the images from his head, and the all-consuming sorrow and grief that was flooding through Catalina's very veins, making it impossible to even breathe sometimes.

A while later Dr Rahn came in, holding a small vial of potion. Catalina didn't make a move and the doctor turned to Harry instead.

"Make sure she drinks this," he told him, placing it onto the table next to them, "she can sleep in here tonight, for as long as she needs."

"Right thanks doctor," said Harry, turning his stiff neck to watch the doctor deposit the bottle.

"We'll find a room for you too," he added as he clicked the door shut again - Harry caught a flash of robe that told him their guard was still at her post.

"You hear that?" Harry asked her a while later.

She nodded slightly and he passed her the potion, "well have this and get some rest."

He passed her the potion, which she drank in one go, eyes drooping almost immediately until she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep - what the potion had aimed to do. He half climbed, half fell off the bed and after flexing his limbs and trying to massage some life back into them he looked down at her. She had tear tracks running down her face and the lines of worry had now smoothed out with the potions effects.

He pulled off her boots and pulled the blankets across her tightly. When he was fully satisfied she was comfy and safe, he slipped out of the room, giving a brief nod to the guard, which looked as alert as all those hours ago. He trudged down the corridor heavily as he headed downstairs, looking in surprise at the high moon outside - it was later than the thought.

He walked into the empty canteen, and an unimpressed man took his money for a cup of coffee. He personally hated the stuff, but nevertheless he felt he needed it. So he slipped into another hard, plastic chair and warmed his cold fingers on the coffee cup as he stared off into space. He wished Ron and Hermione were there, so he could tell them what had happened, so they could tell him what he was supposed to do. He had no clue. There he was filling out forms and writing letters not fully understanding what he was writing about and who to. Hermione would have known what to do, she'd know how to help.

He took a deep swig of the scalding liquid. Love had a lot to answer for he thought bitterly. It was always shown as being so nice, so good, but all it ever did was hurt people. All love ever caused was pain, just look at Mary Firelight, killing herself because of the love she had placed in a man who betrayed her, look at Catalina, spiralling into depression again because of hers.

"Penny for your thoughts," came a voice as a white robed figured slid into the seat next to him.

"That's a muggle saying," said Harry vaguely.

"Well, I'm muggle born," said Dr Rahn, "and old habits die hard."

Harry merely nodded, still staring at the stained patch of floor tile across the room. That explained the muggle telephone in his office at least. The doctor shrugged off his robe, a sign that he must have been off duty. He had his own cup of black coffee, which he drank with a grimace.

"It tastes like polystyrene doesn't it?" asked Harry.

"All hospital food does, it's genetic," said the man, "speaking of which, have you had anything to eat?"

"No," said Harry, "I'm not really hungry to be honest."

"Yes, I understand. All deaths, even the expected ones, come as a shock," he said heavily, "how is Catalina?"

"I'm not sure," said Harry awkwardly, "it's hard to judge her. But I think it's hit her hard, really hard."

"It will do I'm afraid," said the man, "how are you coping?"

"Me?" asked Harry blankly.

"Yes, it was a traumatic experience all round."

"I'm ok," lied Harry, not really knowing how to describe how he felt.

They both took a sip of their coffee, pondering their own thoughts.

"I envy you," said Harry, "at least at the end of the day you can go home and forget about what's happened here."

"Do you think we can ever really separate our work from our lives?" asked the man mildly, "this has been a tough case.Mary was a particular favourite of mine - we became good friends."

"I'm sorry," said Harry, looking abashed, "I didn't mean to sound so.you know."

"Don't worry Harry," said the man, "I understand completely. Even though I am surrounded by death and illness every day, I never get used to the feeling."

"No.I suppose not," he said in a faraway voice.

"The press are on their way here," said the man, straightening up, "my advice is to get to them, before they get to you, or Catalina."

"Can't you just throw them out?" asked Harry despairingly.

"We learned a long time ago that doesn't work. A short statement will do, we've given ours."

"Right.fine," sighed Harry, cultivating bitter thoughts against all paparazzi everywhere.

Harry finished the dregs of his coffee, grinding the horrible gritty goo at the bottom between his teeth.

"When will she wake up?" he asked the man, climbing to his feet.

"The potion wears off in four hours, but she will probably sleep her whole usual night," he said, also getting to his feet.

"Right, I better go," said Harry, already walking off.

"See you in the morning Harry," called the man as he rounded the corner.

He walked back into the room again, and dragged forward the plastic chair. He aimed to get at least a little sleep before the mornings trials. He cast a worried eye over the sleeping form of Catalina and settled down into the chair, battling for what seemed like ages to find a comfy piece of the plastic contraption.

His sleep that night was fitful at best, he woke up several times during the night, checking on Catalina before trying to get back to sleep. He soon found out the comfiest position on one of these chairs was to slouch down into them as far as you could go and hope for the best.

He awoke for real when a slit of light from a gap in the blinds was shining right into his eyes. He gave a groan of pain as he straightened up, fearing his spine would be forever curved into the shape of the chair. He looked down and gave a slight jolt to see Catalina staring at him with unreadable amber eyes. She took in a deep breath and pulled her blankets up to her chin.

"Morning," she said in a flat voice.

"How did you sleep?" he asked quietly.

She shrugged and Harry busied himself with stretching and cracking some life back into his muscles and bones. He gave a look at his watch, it was nine in the morning. Everyone would be sitting down to first lessons right about now - he should have been in Defence.

"Can I get you some breakfast?" he asked her, standing up and pushing his boots on.

"No. I'm not hungry."

"Ok," he said worriedly, "I'll be back in a moment."

He walked out of the room to find Sylvia slouched on her own chair. She was awake and alert, but looked a little worse for wear.

"How is she?" asked the woman in a kindly voice.

Harry shrugged, "I'm jut getting some coffee, want anything?"

"I'll have the same thanks," said the woman gratefully.

Harry nodded and marched off down the corridor. He bought two more large coffee's, and after a moments indecision, bought a muffin for Catalina and glass of orange juice. He knew she probably wouldn't eat it, but it would make him feel better to have tried something. He was just walking back down the corridor when he saw Dr Rahn motioning him into his office. Harry walked in, and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw who was waiting in the chair for him.

He took in the banana yellow robes, the blood red nail varnish and the acid grin quill that was hovering above the page expectantly. He nearly dropped his muffin in the shock of seeing the smiling face, peering out from under jewelled spectacles. The last time he'd seen this woman, she'd been about two inches long and inside an unbreakable jar surrounded by leaves and twigs.

"Harry, long time no see," she said, giving him a wide, reassuring smile.

"Yes." said Harry faintly, "long time."

"Harry, Miss Skeeter has been sent by the Daily Prophet, for the interview I told you about," said Dr Rahn, wringing his hands worriedly, looking apologetic.

Harry shook himself, and once he'd recovered from the shock of seeing his one-time tormentor he began to feel the anger building up.

"I'm not speaking to her," he said flatly, turning to leave.

"It's either me or Ruby Goldwing my boy," called Rita, "and I've kept your little friends promise - I write the truth now."

"Like I believe that," scoffed Harry, "and I am not your boy."

"Believe it or not Harry. I have turned over a new leaf," she stated, looking strangely sincere, "now if I could ask you a few short questions?"

"I'm only talking to you if I get to proof read your final draft," said Harry suddenly.

"Right." said Rita, looking slightly fazed, before hitching up her smile, "right.fine. I'm sure we can come to some arrangement."

"That is the arrangement, take it or leave it. Because I am seriously tired and have spent the night sleeping on a chair that deserves to be melted for crimes against humanity and I haven't got time to mess about with you at a time like this."

"Fine, I take it," snapped Rita, "my my Harry, how sensible you've grown since our last meeting. Well, let's do this then shall we."

The interview was quite painless Harry recalled later. She'd asked him predictable questions, steered clear of any mention of Charles Firelight. It was a bog standard obituary and Harry was very grateful for the fact, if not slightly surprised. When the interview was over, Harry stood up and gathered his now lukewarm coffees and breakfast together.

"Harry," interrupted Rita before he walked out, "I am very sorry for your loss, and for Catalina's. I understand this must be a difficult time for all involved, and you have my word that this article would be one for you to be proud of."

Harry had been so stunned by this that he could only stutter his thanks and walk out of the room in a daze. Could that really have been Rita Skeeter? The woman who had made his life a living hell throughout his fourth year? And not only his, but Hagrid's and Hermione's as well? Harry put it down to her being her usual conniving self, anything for a story as Hermione had once said. No doubt after this article was over a done with bother her and Ruby Goldwing would be jumping on the bandwagon with more horrible stories about them.

He handed Sylvia her coffee, and walked into the room to find Catalina sitting in the same position as when he'd left. He sat down in the torture instrument from hell (the plastic chair) and placed her muffin and juice on the small bedside table and sat back and drank the horrible, gritty, and now cold coffee.

They didn't speak as the seconds, minutes and hours crawled past, Harry felt like there wasn't anything you could say at a time like this. The only thing he could do was be there.

Eventually Dr Rahn walked into the room, and Harry knew the time had come they'd spoken of earlier. It was time for Catalina to go to identify the body, and to say her last goodbye. He had to explain to her what was happening, and she looked terrified at the possibility.

Harry and Catalina followed Dr Rahn as he led them down a few flights of stairs, until they were in the cool cellars of the building. He led them across to a wide metal door, and paused. He opened the door and there was a cool blast of air around their legs. He walked through and held it open for Catalina, who shuffled in silently.

Harry watched her walk in and over to a low table before the door snapped shut. He settled himself into the seat by the door, listening to the noises from within. He knew she needed to be alone now, this was her final goodbye in a way - the last time she would ever lay eyes on her mother.

Harry heard her burst into tears again, obviously trying to contain them but failing miserably.

"I can leave you alone if you'd like," he heard Dr Rahn say, "right, we'll be just outside."

The doctor came through the doors, and Harry could just see Catalina leaning over a white sheet on the table when the door closed again.

"I won't be long," said the doctor, "I'll be back in a moment."

And then he was gone, and Harry was left in the cold empty corridor with nothing but the sound of Catalina's muffled sobs for company. He eventually heard her quiet down, and the sound of her tears was finally replaced by that of her low voice.

"Mama, there was so much I wanted to tell you," she began, swallowing deeply, "so many things about me you didn't know, so many things I wanted you to tell me."

Harry closed his eyes and listened to her voice reverberate around the entire corridor, although she was only speaking quietly. She seemed to be talking to her mother as if she were still alive, in a silent, one-way conversation.

"You never knew about my hopes.my dreams. I never got a chance to tell you how much you meant to me. The life you and papa gave me before this.I enjoyed it. I never once felt angry at you for all the moves, the houses, the languages, the new friends - you made me special. And I never blamed you about papa, even though you thought I did."

Harry cringed at the thought, that her mother went away thinking Catalina had hated her for the life she'd had. She had told Harry that herself, before she took one of her final last breathes, that she wanted Catalina to have a better life the one they'd created for her.

"And I wanted to thank you, for finally bringing me home. I never understood why you were so homesick about this tiny, rainy island, but I think I'm beginning to understand.I've finally realised it's a place I could finally belong. I wanted to thank you for that mama, for helping me see where I belonged."

Harry gave a weak smile, as he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. Catalina sounded so young, so lost, so unable to keep together the strength to say what she needed to say.

"Most of all though mama, I wanted to tell you about my future, and the plans I'd made. I'm tired of moving now, I've seen enough of the world to last me a lifetime. I'm going to stay right here, but I'm not going to be on my own anymore.Harry's here with me now," she said and he turned and watched the doors, "and you'd like him.He likes me mama, and he looks after me, and he doesn't think I notice him, but I do. I always do, I see every little thing. I love him mama and you never got a chance to see that.All the time you told me he was trouble and that I should stay away from him.when he was the only thing I could truly believe in."

Harry held his breath, watching the doors with a wide-eyed look. He felt like the world had taken a sudden lurch and changed his life forever.

"I'm sorry it had to end like this mama," she said sorrowfully, completely changing tack, "that you thought you were so alone that you couldn't stay with me anymore.But you'll be with Mikhail now, and I know you'll finally be happy. But I'm going to leave you Shebulba, so you won't be alone ever again, so you'll always have someone with you now.Lu Tze found her, all these years I thought she'd gone, and she was just waiting for us to come back."

"I'm going to go now mama, back to school and back to this life. And I wish I could say that I will see you soon, but I'm not going to.Not for a long time.I don't plan on joining you for many more years yet. So you're just going to have to wait for me, and tell me how you think I've lived my life then, because I want you to watch out for me, and Harry, and make sure we do ok."

Harry listened intently as seconds ticked past in silence.

"I love you mama, I always have.and I always will," she whispered before her voice finally did what it had been threatening to do since she started. She collapsed into heart-wrenching, spine-tingling wails of misery that froze his very heart and made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

He finally had enough of the noise, and silently slipped into the freezing cold room. He walked over to Catalina, who was sat on the chair in front of a low table where Mary Firelight lay, dressed in a plain white robe. Her yellow skin had become taut over time and made her features look tight and unrealistic. Harry dropped an arm onto her shoulder as his eyes were drawn to the rag doll, which had been forced into her hands and dangled like some ugly marionette whose strings had just been cut.

He couldn't say anything that she would want to hear, or that would comfort her, so he just stood there and hoped she knew that he would always be there for her. Catalina stood up suddenly, and Harry backed off a few paces, not wanting to crowd her on her last moment with her mum. She bent down and placed a kiss on her mothers forehead, smoothed her hair down one the last time, before whispering something in her ear.

When she straightened up Harry could see the silent tears that were running down her face. She cast one final lingering look at her mother, before turning around slowly. Harry regarded her nervously, not sure which way she would go - upset or angry.

"Harry," she said in a heavily choked voice, "you don't know how much it means to me.that you were here."

Out of everything she could have said or done he wasn't expecting that.

"It's the least I could do," he said quietly, "you didn't think I'd let you come alone?"

She shook her head, her hair flapping in front of her face as she temporarily lost the ability to speak. Harry was feeling crushed at the amount of feeling that could be hidden inside one person, especially at a time like this.

"I don't understand," she said painfully, as the tears flowed, "that she's gone."

Her face creased up in pain and she stamped her foot, almost in frustration at her reaction. She took a hesitant step forward, before striding across the room and for the second time that year, pulled Harry towards her. She wrapped her arms around him and held them by his neck, as he did the same, as she sucked in steadying breaths. She seemed determined not to cry this time and settled for furiously staring at the wall behind Harry's shoulder as she leant the side of her head against his.

As she tried desperately to forget, Harry tried to remember every detail of what was happening. He had spent so long being pushed away from Catalina and her violent reactions to anyone touching her, that he couldn't comprehend what was happening. It was as if the way she starved herself of this kind of contact, had finally got too much for her, and she had snapped. So as Catalina tried to recall the twelve uses of Dragon's blood to calm herself down, Harry tried to remember the way that she stood, the way she held her arms around him, the way she was only slightly shorter than him and the way her hair smelled of flowers.

"I'm going to miss her," she whispered, so quietly that it was only because her lips was by his ears that he heard her, he didn't think she even meant to say it out loud.

He pulled her closer, "I know."

*

AN/ So there you go you lucky little people, another dose of happiness for our intrepid heroes.Have you noticed how I seem to be on a one way course to psychologically shattering them recently?

Oh well, Hope you enjoyed as much as you could, and that you liked.THOUGHTS?

Teasre trailer: "I do! I hate her! I hate her for leaving me, for the way she put up with him, for dragging me around every sodding country in the world except the one I should have been in! I hate her for everything she did, for loving him! For leaving me for him!"