Actual POV

People started waking up shortly after, looking around in confusion. I didn't stick around to see what happened, just long enough to track down Ursiel's coin and find that it wasn't in the castle. Or the city. That prompted me to get Rowena to lead me to Salazar, where I engaged in a set of coin-related charades with him.

He didn't really elaborate, but he did give me his word, on his power, that it was secure and safe and no one had taken it up. Given the way he was entirely serious about it, I assumed he'd run into Denarians before.

My guess was, judging by the lack of corpse, that the basilisk had eaten Cerdic. And from the way I couldn't detect it or see the basilisk, it was currently in the Nevernever.

I considered going further, interrogating Salazar more, but I was just so tired. Moreover, in our current state, if Salazar wanted to do something hellishly evil there was absolutely nothing I or anyone else could do to stop him. I just had to trust this was another arranged coincidence on Uriel's part and that Ursiel wasn't a problem.

So instead, I had Rowena help me to an empty bedroom. Once there, I closed and magically locked the door, and just managed to take off my duster before falling prone on the bed. I felt like a herd of horses had trampled all over me, followed by a tractor, and even though I was blocking out much of the pain my body screamed for rest. But I didn't go to sleep just yet. There was still something I needed to do.

Maybe it wasn't the best idea to call him now. Or at all. But damn it, I wanted answers. And after tonight, I was tired of keeping the questions back.

I closed my eyes, steadied my breathing, and pictured a room in my mind. My laboratory. An ornate summoning circle cut into the wooden floor, candles lit at five equidistant points around it. The air smelled of sandalwood incense and burned wax. I didn't put much more effort into it than that. In my current state, there was no way I would be able to power a circle for more than a second if the being I called up decided he wanted out.

I imagined myself kneeling beside the circle. I closed it. I gathered the power. Then, in the faintest whisper, my voice barely working even in my mind, I called quietly, "Uriel, come forth."

There was no flash of light, no crack of thunder, no chorus of angels. One moment, the circle was empty. The next, a man was inside. He was tall and young, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt and a farmer's duck coat. His blond hair fell over his eyes, but they were blue and bright and guileless as he looked around the room. He stuck his hands into his coat pockets and nodded slowly. "I was wondering when I'd get this call."

I squinted at him. "Are you deliberately repeating yourself?"

"Hmm?"

"The last time I summoned you like this, before... you know, you looked the exact same down to the clothes, said the exact same thing," I said, suspicious.

"Ah. Well, it just seemed appropriate," Uriel said.

I stared at him, wondering what Uriel's game was. "Are you the same?"

"Perhaps. Perhaps not," he said. "I'm afraid I can't tell you."

"Why?" I demanded. "Can't I get some damn answers?"

"You can," he replied. "But not to that question. As you yourself wrote, you died. You went on to your judgment. And yet, here you are." Uriel waved a hand. "It is not for me to question His will."

I took a deep breath and clenched my hand.

"But I will elaborate as much as I am able. Consider the two possibilities: that I am the same Uriel, or that I am different, or an earlier one than you are used to."

"That's three," I said.

"The latter two are equivalent in this instance," he dismissed. "In the latter case, I don't know what happened to you, or why. I do not have the answers you seek. In the former case, you are familiar to me, and I do know what happened to you. But either way, regardless of the truth, I cannot tell you."

"But why?" I insisted. "Why do you have to leave me in suspense?"

"In the latter case, I must assume that your ignorance is the result of some deliberate action or choice, and that it is not my place to inform you of even that much. In the former case, your ignorance is part of what has been decreed. Your trial. Your judgment."

I was silent for a few moments. "You're suggesting this is the afterlife?"

"Isn't it, in some senses? You died, thus it is after your life," Uriel said. "Perhaps this is what the afterlife is, past all the pretty words and imagery: a dream. Or perhaps these are the last gasps of a hallucinating, oxygen-deprived mind as your real body drowns."

"Why would I dream or hallucinate this?" I asked. "Something so far out of my past, so far out of my experience, so… bizarre, wrong."

Uriel shrugged.

I sighed and looked away in anger. "Fine. You can't tell me. Whatever. Can you answer the rest of my questions?"

"Perhaps. Some, certainly," he said.

I took a deep breath and unclenched my hands. "My voice. Will it come back?"

"In a few days, yes. You strained that part of yourself by haphazardly channeling magic and soulfire through it, but you did not cause any permanent damage. I would not recommend trying to speak during your recovery however, some of the trauma is physical as well as spiritual and will be exacerbated."

I sighed and nodded. "Okay. Good. Now, why me, for this? For Cerdic?"

Uriel arched an eyebrow. "Were you not the right man for the job?"

"You had most of a month," I said. "You could have gotten a Knight here in at least a dozen different ways. He could have made a better attempt at pulling Cerdic back, could have worked with the people already here to contain Ursiel, could've done better than me."

"I did not force you to come here. And the Knights cannot be everywhere at every time."

"Then what was the book?" I asked. "Sheer, random coincidence?"

Uriel smiled faintly. "Yes. Now as to your suitability, consider what actually happened. No one perished. Cerdic was provided a chance at redemption, the best that could be managed under the circumstances. Chaos and war was prevented. Power and valor was demonstrated. Strife between siblings reduced."

"And now the Leanansidhe is pissed at me," I said.

"Again, a choice you made. I did not force you to attack her. You could have negotiated a withdrawal, a passage."

"Really?" I asked skeptically. "Seemed to me like she was only interested in an ultimatum. Come with her of my own free will, or have her drag me off and suffer in the process."

"Despite the role you imagine for me, Harry, I am not in the habit of lying or exaggerating," he said. "You had options. You chose not to exercise them."

"I'm not omniscient," I said with a snort.

"Neither am I," he replied. "But I look upon events with a measured, calm view. It provides me a wider perspective. You could benefit from such an approach."

"Easy for you to say," I muttered. I took a deep breath. "Lasciel. Is she aware of me?"

"That touches on the reasons why I could not tell you what I may or may not know."

"Touches on," I noted.

Uriel nodded. "Yes. And different reasons as well. I cannot tell you, Harry. It approaches imbalance, sharing information about the Fallen. The most I can do, the most I can recommend, is to carefully consider your memories. Perhaps you will find your answer there. Perhaps not."

"And in the meantime, suffer through a bunch of headaches, and maybe an aneurysm."

"That too would be your choice."

I sighed.

"Now, if you have any other worldly questions, I would ask that you not waste time for the both of us by asking them. I wouldn't be able to answer."

"Like what the hell that city in the Ways was?" I asked.

Uriel nodded.

"Alright." I shifted around, wondering what to ask. I worked my way through the simple questions, the ones that didn't really matter, until I got to the one I had really been dreading.

"Do you still owe me seven words?"

"You misunderstand. I do not owe you seven words," Uriel said. "You were manipulated. And before you take that as a sign that I am your Uriel, allow me to say that the imbalance is etched upon your very soul, an intervention so grave I could not miss it even were I to lack my full faculties. You are owed seven words to correct that imbalance. I need not be the one to say them."

"But… that's what you do. So the answer is yes."

Uriel sighed. "If you wish to put it so simply."

"Me big thug. Me need simple words."

Uriel snorted in a very human way. "Is that all?" he asked.

I thought about it for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah. That's it."

"Then allow me to provide you some parting advice. A broadening of perspective, as it were," Uriel said. "You think that your current life is a punishment. That you were whisked away from everything and everyone you ever knew and loved, and forced to suffer in isolation."

"Kind of hard not to think that, considering everything that's happened," I replied, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice.

"Perhaps. But while Heaven and Hell are real places, they are also states of mind. Perhaps the punishment is only in your head. Perhaps this is a second chance, with opportunities for new friends, new relationships, new happiness."

"And all the pain and fighting? All the shittiness?" I asked.

"Would you truly be satisfied with an eternity of peace? Or do you need to act, to help? Do you need to learn how to let go?"

I didn't have a response to that.

"Good night, Harry Dresden." Uriel vanished from the circle, leaving me alone in my own mind. I stayed there for a bit, considering what Uriel had said. After a few minutes, I decided I was too damn tired.

I stopped holding back the pain, and let it drag me down into darkness and slumber.

Author's Note: As the title might suggest, this is from Harry's actual POV. It's also not included in his journals, and so is numbered differently.