White. Silent.
The last thing Harry remembered himself doing was admiring the Chudley Cannons poster that adorned the ceiling above his bed in Ron's room. Extremely tired and battered by the day's emotional fight Harry had found himself running various dark thoughts through his mind. As he ogled the familiar poster for what felt like the millionth time, he saw Ginny's face swim in front of him…in a reverberated voice, that was owned by Bellatrix Lestrange, he heard the terms to Voldemort and McKinnon's Unbreakable Vow… Then, as the Keeper dropped the Quaffle on top of one of the Chaser's heads Harry was enveloped into blackness. Asleep. Or so he thought. Now, he had no idea where he was.
Everything was white. There was no ceiling, no walls and no floor but everything was white. No beginning and no end, no top and no bottom. There were no colours where he was found, not even a streak of anything. Just pure, brilliant white all around him. Harry couldn't hear anything. There were no sounds. Nothing at all. Complete silence. Harry lifted his hand up and grasped nothing. He didn't feel anything, there was no air, no wind and no heat. He looked down at his hand, it was pale with not a single mark on it. Harry then decided to check out the rest of his body and it appeared that he was naked. He wasn't wearing anything, not even his glasses which was peculiar considering his sight was perfect. His body was unblemished, not even the scars on his head and stomach were visible. He was clean and without bruises and felt light like a feather. He decided to take a step forward but he didn't feel anything beneath his feet. They weren't cold and they were hot, just like the rest of him, he was unsure he felt any temperature around him at all. 'Where am I?', he thought.
He decided to spin on his heels and all around was nothingness, just white, all around him. Where was he? Was he dreaming? Harry assumed he was dreaming at first thought but now he was totally unsure. He remembered everything that had happened when he went to bed and even how he began to fall into his slumber. However he'd never experienced such a bizarre dream and when he awoke after a dream he didn't remember any kind of thought processes involved. Dreaming didn't involve thinking. It was something that just happened. Something that occurred in the brain when people were unconscious, images generated like a film that are usually related to whatever's been happening in the person's conscious activities. However, Harry had no memory of anything that he had done recently that would create such a strange world where he'd be naked and everything would be white. It couldn't be a dream, otherwise he wouldn't be thinking and the reasoning behind why his mind would create such a thing was beyond him. So Harry decided to settle on another possibility, one that seemed more likely but was much more frightening. He was dead. Possibly.
The last place that Harry had been too that resembled this was the King's Cross limbo he had shared with Dumbledore. After Harry had sacrificed his life in the Forbidden Forest to destroy the piece of Voldemort's soul attached to his, Harry found himself somewhere like this. While the Battle of Hogwarts was in intermission, Harry stood in King's Cross with Dumbledore and discussed his future, the Deathly Hallows and Dumbledore himself. This place was ghostly in a similar way. Harry again had found himself naked and alone but there wasn't a child-like creature under a bench and no train station. The place was empty. So, was he dead? Did he die? What happened whilst he slept? Did he die of natural circumstances caused by stress or grief? Or was he murdered? Harry shuddered physically at the thought that the Death Eaters had got to him. What if Voldemort had found the Burrow, broken the defences like he did at Hogwarts and slaughtered every single of one of them. All the Weasleys, Hermione and Luna. What if they were all dead? Did Voldemort finally succeed in delivering the Killing Curse? Or maybe it was McKinnon or Draco or Onya?! Harry didn't know. He didn't want to know. Even if the Weasleys had been thrown from their bedrooms like Ginny had fallen from the Azkaban corridor. Even if Hermione's mind had been wiped clean of him like her parents had been of her. Even if Luna was stabbed and beaten to death like her father was in front of her. Harry just didn't want to know. But he doubted he was dead. Surely he'd awake first before he died? If he'd been violently killed he'd wake as the knife slit his throat…the green light struck his forehead…
If he wasn't dreaming and he wasn't dead and it definitely wasn't reality then what was it? Where was he? How could he get back? Could he get back? Would he ever see Ron and Hermione again? But if he was dead he might see Ginny! And his mum and dad, Sirius, Remus, Dumbledore…! He hoped he was dead. Well, no, he didn't want to be dead. But, if he was dead then he'd be fine with that. More than fine. If he was dead then he'd see them all again. Though he did want to see them all again he didn't want to think about it. So, he became aware of his nakedness. Though he was alone in nowhere he didn't feel comfortable with it, he wanted to be clothed. Just some robes maybe, anything to cover him up. Then it happened. He was clothed. He now wore robes of white that brushed the floor and a white sash to match. Even the inside pockets and the lining of the robes were white. His undershirt and trousers were also white which matched his socks and pointed shoes. He realised he was now wearing glasses again, his sight exactly the same if not better with them than without them in his absurd world. He removed them from his face, they were white too; the nosepiece, the arms and the screws. There wasn't any tape in the middle where Harry rubbed his index finger, disappointed, he sighed. Everything was perfect here and though that should be considered such a beautiful, fantastic thing he couldn't help but be a little annoyed. He liked the imperfections of the real world but now, being in this place of tranquillity and perfection he couldn't help but want to get out. To escape. Back to reality.
He wondered if anyone else was there. Surely he couldn't be alone in such an infinite place. There had to be at least one person there.
"Hello?" his voice reverberated loudly, echoing against nothing. For a several moments there was no reply of any kind, not a single sound was made.
"Harry," the voice reverberated like Harry's, a delayed reply to Harry's question. The voice sounded familiar but it wasn't until it repeated Harry's name that it Harry recognised its familiarity. It sounded like his own. Its tone and accent. The voice sounded like both Harry's own voice mixed with a bit of Harry's father, James'. So the fact it resembled Harry's voice more confirmed it wasn't James, so the only way to identify the voice was to find its owner. So Harry turned around and there stood a man dressed identically to Harry excluding the glasses and that this man wore a large, pointed hat that was white too. He looked like Harry and James, he had jet black hair that was ruffled in places and shining blue eyes. His nose was rounded and his ears small, his mouth formed a smile to show white teeth which Harry was sure he shared in this place. The mysterious man was pallid in complexion too, the skin stretched over his skinny form, he appeared to be just an inch taller than Harry. He spoke again; "Harry."
"Who are you?" Harry asked as the man walked towards Harry.
"Me?" the man chuckled, "I seem familiar, yes?"
"You like me and my dad. I don't understand."
"My name is Ignotus Peverell."
Harry's brain whirred abruptly, his thoughts lit like wildfire. Ignotus Peverell! The third brother from the Tale of the Three Brothers taken out of the Beedle the Bard. The story about how the three brothers wanted to cross a river and used their magic to construct a bridge to cross to the over side. Having cheating death, Death himself rewarded them with gifts. Ignotus took Death's own Invisibility Cloak to hide from him for the rest of his life as Death killed the other two brothers. Ignotus then saw his cloak passed on, generation to generation. Harry was his ancestor and had received the cloak from his father. In a way Ignotus had helped Harry survive death to return and defeat Voldemort and end the Second Wizarding War. Ignotus' grave lay near James and Lily's in Godric's Hollow's cemetery. Harry had touched it himself. Ignotus had been real, that had confirmed. But Ignotus was long dead and if he was here now and talking to Harry, that meant he was dead too.
"Am I dead?"
"No, Harry."
"But you're dead. Hundreds of years ago, yeah? You are my ancestor? The third brother? The one who hid from death and passed the Cloak of Invisibility down to me and my dad? It is you?" Harry was in denial, shock. He couldn't believe he wasn't dead but Ignotus was here.
"Yes, its me." Ignotus laughed again.
"So, he exists? Death, I mean?"
"No, no. Death isn't a person, Harry. Don't be childish. It's a spirit."
"So, no-one gave you the Cloak? You and your brothers?"
"Something spoke to us. Some sort of force. Asked us what we wanted for rewards?" Ignotus explain casually, Harry eyed him, stunned, "We replied. They appeared. The rest is history, I guess."
"So there is such thing as Death?"
"Death is rather a force…the thing that takes us from life and punishes us when we disobey what he has planned for us. He tried to punish us for defying him but it backfired on my behalf. I outwitted it. And if I hadn't you wouldn't be here…alive!"
Harry didn't know what to say, his voice struggled to exit his mouth, "So I am alive?!"
"Didn't I already say."
"But you're still dead?"
"Yes. I remember it well. My last living moment. With my wife, my children and grandchildren all around me…one of the happiest and yet the saddest moment of my existence." Ignotus exhaled, a sad smile on his face.
"So…if you're dead and I'm not. How are we here? Together? Is it limbo?"
"It wasn't limbo last time you were here, Harry. Well, not technically anyway."
Harry was confused, completely and utterly lost, "I don't…"
"Dumbledore did what I'm doing now. Breaking from the Other Side and into your dreams…"
"Dreams?! And how do you know about Dumbledore?" Harry said exasperated.
"I spoke to Dumbledore myself on the Other Side. I had to correct him on some things, made sure he got his facts straight before he talked to you. I told him how to reach you, though I've never tried this before," Ignotus explained, "You dream I assume?"
Harry shook his head in disbelief, "Yes." He was a little agitated.
"Well, tonight was my best opportunity. You weren't dreaming. And when you're not dreaming, this is what it looks like. Think of it like a blank canvas."
"So this is what my mind looks like when I'm asleep and not dreaming?"
"Yes. The best place to meet. The unconscious place for imagination and thought. Your mind and my soul can fit in here. I apologise for not having the ability to create a setting. Dumbledore did seem more of an imaginative chap than myself. Plus I wasn't sure what you'd like." Ignotus chortled, he seemed continually joyous.
"So this is where I dream? And because my mind didn't choose to dream tonight you could come in and contact my unconscious mind?" Harry confirmed, making sure he understood it.
"Yes."
"Explain to me. What happened between mine and Dumbledore's souls? He said we were…connected?" Harry had always been puzzled by this and now he was guaranteed an answer.
"Ah…" Ignotus grinned, "Souls are funny things. When a person dies a soul has four options depending on the morality and content of someone's life. If they're morally evil they lose their soul. It's gone, nothing happens to do it, it just doesn't exist. If you're morally good and scared of death then you're given a half-life. The ability to have a form in the living form but you're not alive. A ghost…"
"Do ghosts…?" Harry interrupted to see Ignotus' intrigued look, "You know. Pass over?"
"Oh yes!" Ignotus said, "Ghosts are made when somebody's scared of death or they have some unsolved business in life. Once that problem's solved or they accept death their soul moves into the Other Side."
"So what's the other options?"
"A painting," Ignotus smiled at Harry's frown, "If somebody's a figure in society, somebody whose made a difference, somebody's whose important enough…their soul can be fashioned into a picture. It's like a ghost, just trapped in a frame. And when the portrait's destroyed the soul moves onto the Other Side. However paintings are tricky. Little more complicated than a ghost. Their soul's split. Half in the painting. Half in the Other Side. Their soul's 'conscious' only in the painting."
"So explain Dumbledore to me."
"Well, he was in painting form wasn't he?" Harry nodded, "However, he knew the dangers that you faced and needed to help you. He focussed his consciousness on the part of his soul in the Other Side to help you. That switch of consciousness to and back from the Other Side saw the painting's soul piece latch to the living Harry. By destroying Dumbledore's painting you ended the connection and Dumbledore's soul piece was released to join the other in the Other Side. Otherwise half of his soul would be stuck to yours for eternity."
Harry nodded again, understanding. Finally he had got the answers.
"So, I'm guessing the final option is for your soul to go straight to the Other Side? Like you, my parents and Sirius?"
"Yes. Me being here won't join our souls as I'm already on the Other Side."
"But surely you haven't made this meeting just to explain about souls and the afterlife?"
Ignotus' face fell sombre for the first time, "Souls in a way yes…but, Harry there is something I wish to address to you…I'm right in assuming you're aware of how Voldemort was resurrected?"
Harry hadn't heard the name aloud for months and it was strange to hear it come from Ignotus.
"The Hallows? That's why you're here. Because of them?" Harry conferred.
"Harry, I was there at their creation…I know everything there is to know."
"What I don't understand is how he can be back. People can only with souls right? I destroyed his. Didn't I?"
"Ah…that's an interesting one," Ignotus specified, "You know people can live without souls, Harry. Dementor victims? After a Dementor's kiss? But you're right. Voldemort couldn't possibly live without one."
"Then explain to me how he's back."
"Harry, did you ever think that the Hallows were designed to be a reward?"
Harry shook his head, 'Not in my case'.
"You're correct," Ignotus began, "From the moment we're conceived there is a plan for us all. Death is part of this plan. It sets out when we exit this world, when, why and how. However Death never considered the divide between Muggles and Wizards. He never understood the consequences of magic. And how it could be used to defy his plan. When me and my brothers constructed that bridge and avoided our inevitable fates we changed everything. We didn't die like we should of and in return Death wanted revenge. He wanted to punish both us and the rest of the two worlds."
Harry nodded, the things he heard rushed through his brain…confusing him…enlightening him…
Ignotus continued, "So, his new plan saw him falsify rewards for what we did. I was suspicious unlike my brothers. Death wanted us dead so why was he rewarding us for not doing so? For outsmarting him…"
"Though Death didn't have a form?" was all Harry could muster.
"Still, it's easier to refer to it as him. Even now, safe on the Other Side, he thought of it being a force still sends me insane. I prefer to give it an embodiment." Ignotus shuddered, Harry realised that this was better for his ancestor.
"I understand."
"So, Death asked us for what we wanted and his plan was for that we'd be so selfish and indulge ourselves in the most outrageous of gifts that would be designed to kill us and anyone who took them after us. My brothers fell for this wicked trick and asked for, as you know, the Elder Wand and the Resurrection Stone. The wand saw many wizards kill one another for its supposed immense power, my eldest brother being victim to it of course. The stone was designed to send its owners insane as it failed to bring back their loved ones completely and made the owner depressed enough to kill themselves. However, with my suspicions intact and Death unaware of those, I asked for his own Cloak of Invisibility. It meant me and my descendants could hide from Death until we were ready to go happily."
"I understand the Hallows were designed to kill, yes, but I still don't understand about the Master of Death. If the Hallows were supposed to kill their owners then why do they have the ability to give someone the ability to overcome death if Death wants everybody to die before their time?" Harry thought he made a good point here but his question didn't leave Ignotus clueless or unsure. Harry did want an answer to such a thing and he was confident Ignotus could give it to him.
"Ah, well the Master of Death isn't exactly what it seems, Harry," Ignotus creased his brow, a look of contemplation entered his expression, "Being Master of Death doesn't give you immortality."
"I didn't expect it too." Harry said as the wave of realisation crashed into him. He was still the Master of Death, the owner of the Hallows.
"Exactly. Death did design for this happen, the Master of Death I mean. But he would never see anyone become immortal. Never. Especially with his intention to end all life. Being owner of the Hallows sees you overcome death one time and one time only. You were lucky you became it in time. If Dumbledore hadn't planned everything so specifically there was a fifty-fifty chance you'd be dead or not."
Harry expected to die properly next time. Still, the revelation that he could of died in the Forbidden Forest after all if Dumbledore's planning had gone wrong. Harry tried imagine what things would be like if he hadn't disarmed Draco at Malfoy Manor. Harry would be dead and Voldemort would reign over the Wizarding world.
"That isn't all though, Harry. The main reason I'm here is to do with Voldemort's resurrection. Because with the Master of Death comes the Resurrector."
Harry spluttered; "The Resurrector?!"
"Yes. Even the Master of Death's ability to overcome death once cannot be an advantage of the Hallows. As I've said they're designed to kill," Ignotus emphasised, "Its prophesised that the circumstances in which the owner of the Hallows overcomes death that it will lead to the eventuality of a single person to resurrect another who will help them try to destroy the one who avoided certain death. In our situation, Harry you died in the Forbidden Forest just to come back and thwart Voldemort. Onya Lewis brought Voldemort back to kill and take the Muggle and Wizarding worlds!"
Though this was too much for Harry's brain to cope with he tried to remain as calm as he could and stared at Ignotus with a blank, emotionless expression.
"So, Onya's the Resurrector?"
"Yes."
"What's the significance of her then? What is the Resurrector? How is Voldemort back?!" Harry was becoming frantic in his questioning, "You said the Hallows were destined to kill?! So why have they brought back the Death Eaters?!"
"Good question," Ignotus started, "The Hallows were destined to have an owner and for them to thwart their enemy and return from the dead. With that in mind the Hallows were constructed to be able to bring back people likely of evil back from the dead. Assuming the Resurrector has immoral intentions then everyone they bring back is due to commit murder or assist in killing in some form. The Hallows are still designed to kill. They kill their owners and bring back the worst kind of humans to kill even more innocent victims."
"But what I don't get is, you said Death wanted everybody dead? But he's bringing back people?!"
"Eventually, Harry, there'll be a day when the only people left in these worlds are of evil. And then there will be a power struggle and they will kill each other until nobody is left but the Resurrector themselves!"
"Why does Death want everybody to die? It isn't all surely coming from what you did?"
"No, no…Death had been thwarted too many times by that point. We were the final piece in puzzle that put his plan into action. He'd had enough with wizards and witches cheating death so decided everybody should die before their time!" Ignotus' statement made Harry shiver slightly.
"You said something about the Resurrector being the only person left…?"
"Yes. That is until Death takes them personally after they've done his job for him."
"His job?" Harry exclaimed, even more bemused than ever.
"When the person who offers themselves as the Resurrector brings back their first person something begins. You see if the Resurrector kills the person they have brought back first they become Death's accomplice, this companion, his partner, his friend! The Disciple."
Harry didn't know what to do or say except collapse to the non-existent floor beneath him. He could feel nothing under his backside as he looked up at Ignotus who knelt down beside him with a sombre look. Ignotus had retained the youthful looks he owned before his death as an elderly man. As Harry glanced it him he again saw the resemblance of Ignotus with himself and James. How similar they all looked.
"Harry, the Resurrector has risked everything to forcibly take your Hallows and brought back either their loved one or a powerful being. By sacrificing such an important being sees Death grant the Resurrector a role in becoming his Disciple. From that point onwards every person the Disciple has killed or will kill will have their soul taken and stored in the Resurrection Stone. Eventually when the day comes that no one else is left but the Resurrector, that is the day when Death will grace the Earth and take his Disciple's collection of souls. This being because whoever the Disciple kills is supposed to be of some importance or power and the more of this a person has in their life then the more valuable their soul is. So, Death will then consume the souls and be able to destroy his Disciple and then consume everything that is left leaving it to be the most powerful force in existence."
"So…" Harry lost his wording, "If Onya kills Voldemort she becomes the Disciple? And everyone she's ever killed or will kill sees their soul collected inside the Resurrection Stone for Death to consume when the worlds are empty. Giving Death enough power to destroy Onya and take everything else for himself?"
Ignotus nodded.
"Something you didn't explain earlier…" Harry tried to forget what he had just been told so that it didn't plague his mind as he found out more, "How can Voldemort be back without a soul? And the Death Eaters too? Surely their souls were destroyed for the evil they committed?"
"Yes…" Ignotus looked anxious, he looked at Harry sadly as he continued, "They all lost their souls. The only reason they can all be back is because they took souls from other life forms."
"I'm sorry?"
"When you saw Voldemort come back, did anything die?"
As Ignotus asked this Harry remembered the rain of dead birds, "Yes!"
"Animal souls do not own morality or personality but just keep their hosts alive. Being much smaller than a human's the Resurrection Stone absorbs as many as it needs to fulfil that of a resurrected person who was evil in their former life…"
"But Voldemort remembers everything that happened to him! He's exactly the same as he was when I killed him! I thought animal souls didn't have morality or personality?!" Harry interrupted.
"The souls just keep them alive. Their personalities and memories and everything else is reanimated from where it left off when the person died. Nothing is changed, nothing is new."
"What about the bodies? All the Death Eaters' bodies were incinerated."
"The resurrection doesn't just reanimate memories and personality but the body too."
There was still something else bugging Harry, "Can the creation of the Disciple be stopped?"
"Yes. There's two options. A before and an after option," Ignotus explained, "Before the Resurrector kills the first person they resurrected you either kill that person first or just the Resurrector. Killing the Resurrector would sever all connections and everyone ever brought back by the Hallows returns to their previous state. Dead or non-existent. Killing the first resurrected person sees the opportunity to become the Disciple disappear for the Resurrector and nothing else happens apart from the Resurrector can't bring anyone else back and all their previous resurrected stay alive. Now the after option is when the Resurrector becomes the Disciple. Killing their first resurrected sees the same effects as before they are the Disciple. That and the souls collected move onto the Other Side."
"Wait….?! Voldemort will be dead? Onya only becomes the Disciple with his death. How can I kill him if he's already dead?"
"Voldemort's body is the only one out of them all whose hasn't been incinerated. His reanimated animal soul will simply divert to the original body and form where he died."
"So he doesn't die then?"
"There will be an incantation in Onya's head that will channel through her wand and obliterate the soul and the body permanently. You'd only have seconds to beat her to it."
Harry nodded glumly for Ignotus to continue.
"If you kill the Disciple then everyone resurrected by them returns to their previous state. Also, you're given the opportunity to decide what to do with all of the souls collected. Either return them to life or let them progress onto the Other Side."
Abruptly a thought whizzed into Harry's mind. If he let Onya become the Disciple and then killed her it would mean he could bring back Ginny as she had fallen victim to Onya herself.
"What happens then? After she's defeated, Onya…What happens to Death? Does he try again?" Harry put the thought about Ginny at the back of his mind, he must know all the answers first.
"Whatever you do to Onya Death will give up. He will realise that the plan isn't full-proof and that such a thing can't be attempted again. So he reverts back to his original plans for everybody. He doesn't try to consume everything alive and instead resorts to remain as an escort for the dead to the afterlife. If he's outsmarted or beaten he will realise he'll never overpower wizardry and leave the two worlds alone." Ignotus exhaled.
Harry adjusted his white glasses as he said in a tremulous voice, "So, I've got to decide haven't I? Who to kill and when to kill them? Yes?"
"Yes. Though it'd be advisable to such a thing as soon as possible it is entirely up to you, Harry."
He'd met a dilemma, "I can't let anybody's souls be collected in case things go wrong. Because if she discovers I know about any of this she'll have me killed. It'd be better to stop her becoming the Disciple but…"
"But what, Harry?" Ignotus grilled him with a piercing look as to ask him what on earth he was thinking.
"If I let Onya become the Disciple first then kill her then I save the souls of the people she's killed! But, wait, where are they now? With her as the Resurrector and due to become the Disciple?"
"Stuck in eternal limbo."
Harry gulped, "I can't let them stay like that."
"So you're going to let Onya become the Disciple?!" Ignotus cried.
"I can't let people's souls stay trapped! If I let her become the Disciple there's the possibility I can let them into the Other Side or bring them back!"
"Harry whatever decision you make for one of them affects them all. I know about Ginny. I know you want to bring her back but that'll mean everybody else too!"
"Life is better than being stuck in limbo!" Harry shouted. His voice echoed loudly around him.
"So, who do you kill Harry? Killing Voldemort takes the souls to the Other Side. Killing Onya brings them back. Make the decision!"
Ignotus' voice rung in Harry's ears as Harry put his head into his hands. He had to kill either Voldemort or Onya after taking the risk of letting Onya become the Disciple. But could he defeat Voldemort in combat and let Ginny move onto the Other Side? But could he really kill Onya and bring back everybody she killed? Ginny, Xenophilius…
"What are you going to do, Harry?" Ignotus asked him.
"I don't know…" Harry sighed.
"At the moment luck's on our side. Onya's unaware of what she has to do to gain her powers…"
"Powers?!"
"Yes. With the responsibility of collecting souls for him, Death rewards her services with ultimate powers that can be channelled through the stolen Hallows." Ignotus explained to the agape mouthed Harry.
"So she'll be powerful?"
"Yes," Ignotus acknowledged Harry's defeated look, "Still want to her to become the Disciple?"
"Maybe."
"I know about the war, Harry. She's most likely to become the Disciple when that begins. There she'll have the best opportunity to collect as many souls as she can."
"Will she know what she's doing? Collecting the souls, I mean."
Ignotus shook his head, "No. Not really. She'll be sent insane with power, desperate to cause as much death and destruction as possible. She'll feel empowered but have no idea what she's doing."
Harry decided to remain head-strong as possible as he clambered to his feet, Ignotus copied him so that they both faced one another.
"Do you know when the war will begin?" Harry asked him.
"Time will tell. My knowledge is expansive but not that like that. I can't read the future."
"How do you all of this though?"
Ignotus gave his first laugh in a while, "Being there at the Hallows' creation. Ancient prophecies that are long gone. Dumbledore did his best to copy up everything into readable scripture. That's what the documents Onya and Draco have are. Dumbledore's translations. The only thing stopping Onya from knowing what to do is because of an ink mark. Once she gets rid of that she'll kill Voldemort."
Harry nodded thoroughly.
"Anyway, it's time to wake up, Harry." Ignotus said.
"Really?"
"Yes. You know when you fall asleep and wake up or dream it feels like you haven't been unconscious for hours but seconds. Well, think of this like an extended dream. No matter how long you think you've been here, Harry you've been asleep a normal amount. I best go."
Harry didn't want him to leave. Though the things that Harry had learnt here had scared him, worried him, annoyed him, confused him…he didn't want to wake up. If he did he'd have the face his dilemma in reality. Whether to let Onya become the Disciple or not? Whether to kill her or Voldemort before or after this? What to do with souls? Let them move on or return them to life? That's if he could save them. Would Onya or Voldemort kill him first? It was all going to happen at the war. He just knew it.
"Well…" Harry garbled, his voice hoarse, "Thank you…for everything…"
"Goodbye, Harry." Ignotus said with a weak smile before his body faded into nothingness and Harry was left grabbling nothing as he rushed forward. For a moment he was alone in the white abyss then he woke up.
When Harry awoke there was a thin strip of sunlight beaming through a gap in the curtains, lighting up the floor near Harry's bed. When he flicked open his eyes, wide awaken yet both mentally and physically exhausted, he jumped out of his bed immediately. From the watch Mrs Weasley had given him on his seventeenth birthday originally owned by her murdered brother Fabian Prewett, Harry saw it had only turned six in the morning. Snoring in the opposite bed was Ron who Harry shook awake.
"Whaa?!" Ron groaned as Harry shook him violently.
"Wake up! I need to tell you and Hermione something! I had a dream! Well, it wasn't a dream but…RON!" Ron realising something was wrong forced himself out of bed and told Harry to remain calm in their room as he went to wake Hermione. Wide awake Hermione followed Ron back into the bedroom where Harry sat perched at the end of his bed, shuddering.
"Harry, what's wrong? Ron said you had a dream?" Hermione was sincerely concerned. Then, Harry launched into the full story of what had happened to him. How he had met Ignotus in the Dream World and then everything that Ignotus knew and had told him about the Hallows…the Resurrector…the Disciple…Death…As Harry explained everything he had learnt Ron and Hermione sat on Ron's bed transfixed, expressions of horror and worry and paranoia mixed on their faces. Eventually, when Harry finished, Hermione threw her arms around Harry and squeezed him tightly. Ron sat aback with a blank look.
"I…I don't know what to say…" Hermione gasped as she released Harry, her face contorted with anxiety, "Harry…what do we do?"
"Nothing." Harry replied.
"Are you mad?!" Ron injected, "You've got to make a decision, Harry!"
"I know. I either let Onya become the Disciple or not. I kill her or Voldemort. I don't know what to do."
"If you let her become the Disciple you can let the trapped souls go onto the Other Side or be brought back?" Hermione queried.
"Yeah…I can't stop her before she becomes the Disciple. I don't mind taking the risk if it means I can save Ginny and all the others' souls."
Ron gave a heavy exhale, "Fine, I understand that. We can save Ginny's soul. But what do we chose? Voldemort or Onya? Letting them pass over or bringing them back?"
"No idea…what do you think is best for them?" Harry wondered. Ron and Hermione sat in silence for a moment before replying.
"If you were to let them pass over that would mean fighting Voldemort," Hermione began, "He isn't exactly as strong as he was, is he? But do you want them all to pass over?"
"And do you think you can kill Onya? I mean, I'd try to bring back Ginny but…she'll be powerful after becoming the Disciple won't she?" Ron stated.
Harry didn't know what to do. He gave a half-hearted shrug and with his head in his heads he produced a muffled moan. His head hurt with everything that he'd learnt and with his new dilemma. Confused, annoyed, upset, scared…his mind was racing…his heart beating faster…
"Everybody's probably up now," Ron interrupted Harry's train of thought, "Let's get breakfast, yeah?"
Ron's offer seemed reasonable so Harry and Hermione followed him down into the kitchen where the Weasleys and Luna were in and out of getting their breakfast. The trio didn't share anything with the others and ate in silence. Nothing else of importance happened for the rest of the morning and well into the afternoon. The Weasleys, Luna and Harry moped around the house and garden almost in silence. With the organisation of troops ready and waiting for the outbreak of war, they had nothing to do but wait and worry. When was the war going to start? Where would they defend? Harry didn't want to ponder on such a thing so busied himself de-gnoming the garden. Seeing that the abundance of gnomes were flung to the back of the garden. As Harry did this he was watched by Ron and Hermione who tried their best to get a normal conversation out of him. They failed.
Eventually the day ended with a silent dinner and they all went to bed early. Harry didn't fall asleep immediately though he was more than tired. Instead he plagued his mind with various dark thoughts and was distracted by the moans of Fleur in Mr and Mrs Weasley's room. With her pregnancy coming to an end the baby was expected anytime soon and on that night Fleur seemed in some pain. Though Harry wondered whether she was nearing the time to give birth, he was too wound up in his own delusions. After lots of tossing and turning Harry fell into a restless, nightmare filled slumber. Images flickered by of many things…random events that were all somehow linked…as these images past Harry's conversation with Ignotus could be heard pounding inside his head. As Harry heard the mentioning of the Resurrector, the Disciple and Death he could see flashes of green light…Dumbledore toppled off the Astronomy Tower…Voldemort stood with his wand raised in the clearing in the Forbidden Forest…Harry saw his own hand wipe away snow from Ignotus' grave…a hooded witch which was Onya tore out Xenophilius' throat…Harry pulled out Ginny's corpse from the depths of the sea…
What would he do?! Voldemort or Onya?! Taking the souls to the Other Side or bringing them back to life?! When would the war start…?!
"ARGH!" the shrill scream rung through the entire house before reaching Harry's eardrums. As Harry jumped awake, ignoring the cold sweat that clung to his clammy skin, he recognised the owner of the scream. It was Fleur. And there could only be one possible reason for why she was screaming. It was time. She was giving birth. As Harry exited his bedroom, where Ron was absent, and vaulted downstairs he met the entire Weasley family, Luna and Hermione standing between the kitchen and living room. On the largest sofa in the living room Fleur was lay back, legs open, giving birth. Bill's hand was clasped tightly to hers. Mrs Weasley was knelt beside the sofa in order to deliver the baby. Mr Weasley stood near as the others were congregated in the doorway to the kitchen. As Harry came down the stairs he spotted Ron and Hermione and went to them.
"She's giving birth?!" Harry exclaimed, his voice a little strangled.
"Yeah!" Ron shouted over Fleur's screaming.
"Why didn't you wake me?"
"You were screaming just as much, Harry. We guessed you were having nightmares so Ron's dad slipped you a Sleeping Draught to help you. Obviously didn't work effectively enough." Hermione explained. Harry was left in shock. He'd be screaming in his sleep, again.
"Fleur you're nearly there! One final push!" Mrs Weasley hollered from the other side of the living room. Harry swung around his head to view the commotion, as did the others. Then, with one final, drawn out scream, Fleur stopped. Harry could hear a cry and then an exhausted laugh of relief from those who surrounded Fleur. Then with a squeal Mrs Weasley exclaimed, "It's a girl!"
As Mrs Weasley and Bill helped Fleur rid of the afterbirth and cut the umbilical cord, the rest of the Weasleys, Harry, Hermione and Luna all cheered and laughed and hugged and kissed in jubilation. The baby girl's crying had now ceased and from Harry was being jostled between the family he could see Bill hand over a body swaddled in blankets to Fleur. Both of them with wide smiles on their faces as Fleur tickled the nose of her the life she had just produced. Though Harry's head was filled with a multitude of frightening thoughts he tried to focus on being happy for once. Fleur had had a baby! There was a new Weasley! A new life! Harry was then too occupied with joy to think about what dangers this child now faced on first entering the world. There was a war coming and this baby would be so vulnerable, such an easy target…they could kill her.
"Now, Fleur, you're not in a fit state at the moment. It'd be best if you got some sleep first, yeah?" Mrs Weasley told Fleur who nodded, smiling but Harry could tell she was exhausted from labour…how long had she been through the agony of childbirth? Hours? The whole night? Harry didn't know. Mrs Weasley then ordered her husband to retrieve the same potion that was probably used on Harry the previous night. Fleur immediately fell into a deep sleep as Bill disposed of the afterbirth and umbilical cord with magic. The others including Harry moved into the kitchen to wait for Fleur to awake. Except Harry didn't want to be in vicinity of the others and so decided to move into the garden followed by Ron and Hermione.
"Wow…just…wow…" was all Hermione could manage. A beam plastered on her face.
"I'm an uncle?" Ron spluttered in shock.
"Yeah…" Harry sighed.
"It's wonderful isn't it? A brand new life?" Hermione said.
"I agree…I'm just worried about her already…" Ron's comment saw Harry turn to him so fast he cricked his neck.
"Me too." Harry confirmed his fears.
"And you don't think I am?" Hermione joined them, "There's a war coming. She's a baby…"
"Nobody deserves to be born into the middle of a war but…let's just hope she doesn't lose Bill and Fleur…I wouldn't have another kid losing their parents on behalf of You Know Who…" Ron stated for Harry to give him a slightly puzzled look, "In the first war you lost your mum and dad. In the last war Teddy lost Remus and Tonks…?"
Harry had forgotten about Teddy Lupin. His godson. With everything that had been happening in the previous months Harry realised he hadn't considered or given any thought to the little boy. Harry had been asleep when Andromeda Tonks took Teddy back to her home. He had been unable to say his goodbyes, never mind spend any quality time with his father's friend's child. Harry being his godfather should have done so much more…the time they could of spent together, Harry wasted…he felt guilty, like he'd let Teddy down.
"He'd be one by now, wouldn't he?" Hermione wondered for Harry to slowly nod. Teddy would have been one years of age by this point. Never mind Harry busying himself with other problems that might of not concerned him to waste potential bonding time with Teddy but he'd now missed his godson's first birthday. Who would have been there to celebrate it? With no grandfather Ted or mother and father Tonks and Remus respectively Teddy probably spent his birthday alone with his grandmother in her home…Would Remus be disappointed with Harry? Or would he understand what Harry had faced this past year?
For the next two hours, Harry, Ron and Hermione sat, later accompanied by Luna, in deckchairs at the bottom of the garden admiring the blue sky. While they sat there in the early summer's morning sun they discussed potential baby names for the baby which saw an outbreak of laughter. As Luna wondered whether Fleur would accept her option of naming the baby girl Snorkack after her Luna's fascination with the mythical beasts; Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. This comment provided a fit of chuckles which Harry was more than glad to enjoy. His first group laugh for such a long time. Then, George bounced out of the kitchen door and into the garden where he told the four they could see Fleur with a warning that Mrs Weasley would murder them if they unsettled the baby. So one by one they re-entered the house and into the living room. Smiling widely and lay back on the sofa with her head propped up on a pillow was Fleur whose arms cradled her new baby still covered in blankets. Bill had used his wand to clear up any blood and now sat calmly with a grin upon a stool beside the sofa. Mrs Weasley sat on an opposite sofa. When Hermione and Luna saw the baby they gave out little whimpers of happiness, Ron issued a 'ha' as Harry just stood smiling at the baby whose eyes met his. The baby had some silvery, blonde hairs on her bald head, rosy cheeks and a small button nose underneath a pair of gleaming, hazel eyes.
"She's beautiful…" Harry whispered, Fleur and Bill gave him a thankful glance.
"What's her name?" Luna enquired.
Bill inclined his head for Fleur to tell them, "She eez called Victoire."
"That's adorable." Hermione giggled.
"Eet eez French for Victory." Fleur explained.
"Fleur thought it'd be suitable…a commemoration to our victory last year…a reminder to look on the bright side." Bill expanded.
It dawned on Harry…it was May the second nineteen ninety nine…one year since the Battle of Hogwarts…as Harry lost eye contact with the smiling Victoire he saw flashbacks of last year's events whizz by…breaking in and out of Gringotts…Griphook and the Dragon…Aberforth and Ariana…the Room of Requirement…Horcruxes and the Grey Lady…Snape's death and his memories…Fred, Colin, Tonks, Remus dead…the Forbidden Forest…limbo with Dumbledore…the Great Hall showdown…master of the Hallows…
There was an uneasy silence in the room as everybody realised how Harry had been disturbed by a reminder of the Battle. Bill and Fleur's happy faces now turned sour.
"I'm sorry, Harry…I didn't think…" Bill said.
"No…it's fine…" Harry lied.
"Eet isn't just a tribute to zee Battle either eet eez also an homage to our friend Viktor."
Viktor Krum, Fleur and Harry's competitor at the Tri-Wizard tournament. Harry remembered Fleur and Krum becoming good friends, he was even invited to the wedding. Now Fleur's child's name was a homage to her Bulgarian Seeker friend. Harry gave a slight chuckle. He didn't want to wallow in his own despair but concentrate on making the baby in front of him happy. Victoire Weasley. Born with a name to celebrate good's defeat of evil. With her eyes resembling her father's and hair that will be like her mother's…her whole life ahead of her. Harry just hoped it wouldn't turn out as badly as his did.
After Harry, Luna, Ron and Hermione admired Victoire she was moved upstairs along with Fleur who was very weak. Together they lay in Mr and Mrs Weasley's bed with Bill to accompany them. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Luna and Hermione relaxed in the living room with George and Charlie. Mr and Mrs Weasley prepared dinner in the kitchen. It was reaching one o'clock in the afternoon when Harry and the others were playing a game of Exploding Snap on the carpet. As Harry issued a triumphant cheer when one of Charlie's cards spat a cloud of soot into his face with a bang there was a sudden drop in the temperature of the room. As it was early summer it was a rather warm day but now the room felt much colder. And the temperature kept dropping. It must of hit freezing in seconds when Mr and Mrs Weasley ran into the living room shivering alike everyone in there already.
"What's going on?!" Mrs Weasley screamed at the teenagers who all shrugged before she ran up the staircase saying how with such temperatures Victoire must be kept heavily wrapped up. Harry stayed silent then as the Weasleys, Hermione and Luna exclaimed about the abrupt weather change. Harry looked around him and outside the window. Inside the living room the cold was increasing, frost began to creep onto the furniture and the floorboards began to become glazed in a thin layer of ice. Everybody's breath then became visible in little puffs of white. Outside, the sky had turned from brightest blue to a murky, iron grey filled with silver clouds which began to shower hailstone and bits of snow. As the weather worsened Harry felt his previous feeling of elation ebb away bit by bit until he was left flailing past his usual depressive thoughts until he felt completely miserable. Left reeling in despair and misery, the weather becoming more wintery and the temperature dropping below freezing Harry realised there could only be one single cause of such abnormal activity. Harry dashed out of the Burrow and into the back garden followed by Ron and Hermione and cries from the others. When Harry entered the garden with his wand aloft he spotted them floating like black angels in the dark sky. Their cloaks like ragged black cloth…a rotting orifice that was provided on what was probably supposed to be a head that was meant to be a mouth…for its Kiss…there were at least twenty of them…hanging in the air, absorbing all happiness and channelling misery back…
The Dementors.
