The Man Who Lived

by Luke1813

Harry Potter seems to have it all. So, then, why does he feel as if his life is missing something? Searching for answers, he visits his parents' gravesite, which sparks an investigation into a mystery. An investigation that takes him on a journey he never could have expected and forces him into the toughest decisions he'll ever have to face. Contains major Christian teachings.

10. Chapter 10

The Man Who Lived

Chapter 10

Author's Note: To all my fellow Americans, I wish you a happy Independence Day celebration this weekend. I feel so blessed to live in a country that – at least for the time being - recognizes its citizens' inalienable rights and freedoms, and I'm incredibly grateful to all of those who – like my father and my grandfather before him – served and sacrificed in our military to protect those freedoms. In the immortal words of that great, American philosopher, Jack Burton, "May the wings of liberty never lose a feather."

oOo

The previous week Harry had told Festus that he'd be traveling that upcoming weekend and, therefore, wouldn't be able to attend church on Sunday. Because of that and because Festus knew that Harry would be facing a seriously difficult decision with regards to his relationship with Ginny, the pastor had agreed to meet with Harry late Monday afternoon in his church office.

When Harry walked through the office door, Festus said, "I would ask you how you're doing, but I already know. I can see it on your face."

Harry sat down, nodded, and sighed.

"She left me," he said before then telling Festus everything – from their fight the previous Thursday night after the baptism to Ginny packing up all of her things and walking out that morning.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I truly am. How are you holding up?"

"I'm okay…now. This morning was pretty rough. And, unfortunately, I had the day off from work so I couldn't even distract myself with that. I'm still sad obviously but…I've just been trying to remind myself all day that God knows best. That's what I keep telling Him over and over, 'You know best. I trust You…because You know best.'"

"He does. He really does," encouraged Festus. "I know that what I'm about to say right now probably won't make you feel any better, but I do commend you for trusting Him and making the decision that you did. I truly believe that it was the right one."

"Even though it ended in disaster?"

Festus smiled.

"Yes. Because real Christian faith isn't simply believing in spite of the evidence – or, what the non-believing world would say is a lack thereof. No, true faith is obeying in spite of the consequences. And that's what you did. You trusted and obeyed God in spite of knowing what might happen. So, I commend you – especially given how early you are in your Christian walk. I know people who have been Christians for years – or, at least, claim to be - that probably wouldn't have made the choice you did. Plus, it wasn't simply the right decision because you obeyed God – though that is most important. It was also the right decision because I truly believe you saved yourself some serious trouble in the future. It was a situation of 'Cry a little now, or cry a lot later.'"

"So, you don't know of any mixed marriages – I mean, between believers and non-believers – that have lasted?"

"I do know of some couples that are still together. But I'm not sure that I'd necessarily call any of their marriages good or stable. Marriage is already difficult enough when it's between two believers who both want to live their lives in a way that honors Christ. Because, as I've mentioned before, even with Christ in our hearts, it's still in our sinful nature to be selfish, impatient, unforgiving people. And putting two people like that in the same house day after day inevitably leads to conflict. But when you have a Christian married to a non-believer? The division between them is immense. And by division, I mean, the division in values and goals. If you had married Ginny and had tried to lead your family in a way that exalted Christ, more than likely, she would have battled you every step of the way."

"Sounds exhausting."

"I agree."

Harry peered closely at Festus for a moment before continuing.

"You don't sound surprised by any of this. That my engagement ended."

"It's because I'm not. I've seen quite a few relationships end after a person decided to follow Christ – whether it was with their friends or lovers or even parents. As Jesus said – he didn't come to bring peace to the world but division."

"What? He said that? I thought He said that He came to bring peace."

"He did," said Festus with a nod. "He said both, and that's why context is key when interpreting Scripture. The Bible has been misquoted, mishandled, and misunderstood more than any book in history. And it's because people love to take verses out of context and twist them to mean whatever they want them to mean. And then they point to it and say, 'See? See? God's not trustworthy.' Or 'See? The Bible contradicts itself so how can you believe it?' So, when Jesus said that he didn't come to bring peace, we have to look at the context."

Harry lifted his Bible from his lap and said, "Where to?"

"Luke 12. I can't remember the exact verse, but it's in the second half."

A moment later, Harry found a section with the heading, 'Not Peace but Division.'

"Found it," he said.

"How about reading it out loud?"

"'I have come to bring fire on the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled. But I have a baptism to undergo, and what constraint I am under until it is completed. Do you think I came to bring peace on the earth? No, I tell you, but division. From now on there will be five in one family divided against each other, three against two and two against three. They will be divided, father against son and son against father, mother against daughter and daughter against mother, mother-in-law against daughter-in-law and daughter-in-law against mother-in-law.'"

"Huh," said Harry when he'd finished.

"So," said Festus, "when Jesus promises to bring peace, He is speaking to the individual person specifically about their soul. He is promising that, through His atoning sacrifice, He will first bring reconciliation – that is, peace between God and man - and then He'll bring the peace of God into that saved person's soul. But here, in these verses, He's not talking about the soul. He's talking about relationships – specifically those between believers and non-believers. You've read John, right?"

"Yes."

"Then, you may remember Jesus promising His disciples that the world would hate them, because it hated Him first. And when He said the 'world,' he was including – potentially - our non-believing spouses, friends, co-workers, parents, siblings, you name it. He was telling His followers, 'Be prepared. Be prepared to suffer for My sake.'"

Harry sighed. "I already am."

"Indeed, you are," said Festus with a nod. "Don't let anyone mislead you, Harry. While having a relationship with Christ brings us ultimate joy, when you became His follower, you were not stepping onto a playground. You were stepping into a war zone."

Harry immediately swallowed. For he'd been in a war – a real one. And, frankly, he didn't want to ever go through that again.

"What do mean exactly?"

"I told you last week that, in many ways, your life would become more difficult after you became a Christian. Do you remember?"

Harry nodded.

"Well, to be honest, though it does play a part, I wasn't even really talking about the push-back you'd get from the world around you."

"No?"

"No. I was talking about Satan and his demons."

Harry knew that anyone else might scoff at the idea of evil spiritual forces, but given that, over the years, he'd experienced horcruxes, ghosts, Dementors, and Inferi, he had no problem believing that such things existed.

"I read about that," he said softly. "In Ephesians, I think. Something about – putting on the full armor of God."

"That's exactly right, Harry. Our real enemy – besides the sin still residing within us – isn't the world around us. It's not the world that we can see. Though, make no mistake, it is definitely antagonist towards Christ and His followers. No, our real enemy is in the spiritual realm. Once you declared your allegiance to Jesus, you put yourself in the cross-hairs of Satan and his demons. Before, when you were wallowing in a life of sin, Satan had no need to target you. Why would he? But now – you are his enemy. That's what Paul, in Ephesians, was talking about – putting on the metaphorical armor of God in order to protect you from their attacks. Because, make no mistake, they're going to do everything in their power to harm you. To tempt you into sin. And why? Is it so that you will lose your salvation?"

Harry furrowed his brows. "No…because you said that's not possible."

Festus smiled. "That's right. I was just checking to see if you remembered. So, no, they can't sever our relationship with Christ, but they do want to lead us into sin. In order to ruin the joy of our relationship with Him. To destroy our Christian witness to those around us. To hinder our usefulness for His kingdom. To bring shame upon the name of Jesus. And that's what you've stepped into."

Harry didn't say anything.

"But the great news is that Christ is stronger, and it's not even close. He's stronger than Satan, his demons, our sin, the gates of Hell, and even death itself. As John said - greater is He that is in me than the one who is in the world. So, we should definitely be aware of our enemies. And we should definitely be cognizant of their power and schemes. But we don't have to fear them. Though, we do have to definitely use the weapons that God has given us – like the power of His Holy Spirit and His Word – to fight the battle."

Harry nodded. "Anything else?"

"Well, I did prepare a short lesson regarding your Christian walk, but, after everything you've already been through today, I'm not sure if you want to hear it."

"No, I definitely do. I've been recently reminded of just how little I know about God and the Bible," answered Harry, thinking of his argument with Ron and Hermione that past weekend. "So, whatever you want to teach, I'd love to hear."

"Excellent," said Festus before opening up his Bible. "My mentor once said to me that the Christian's walk is really only comprised of three things: becoming a disciple, growing as a disciple, and making other disciples. And last week, you and I already talked a bit about the first two. So, today I want to discuss the last aspect – making other disciples. So, let's turn to the last verses in the book of Matthew."

"Alright, I found it," said Harry a few moments later.

"The verses that we're about to read are often referred to as 'The Great Commission.'"

Harry saw that, sure enough, the heading for that section in his Bible stated that exact thing.

"But let me give you the setting before we read Jesus' final commands. At this point, Jesus has done His Father's will and fulfilled His earthly ministry. He spent roughly three years preaching in Jerusalem and the surrounding regions that He is the Christ – God's holy, anointed One. He was crucified on a Roman cross, taking His Father's just wrath against sin upon Himself in order to save us and redeem us. On the third day, God resurrected Him from the dead, and He then spent the next fifty days or so with His followers before He ascended back into Heaven, where He is to this day, seated at the Father's right hand. Here, we're about to read His last recorded words in Matthew's letter. He's speaking to His inner circle, His eleven apostles and He says, 'All authority in Heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore, go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely, I am with you always, to the very end of the age.'

"For your homework, you can read the first two chapters of the book of Acts, which describes this conversation – and its aftermath - in a bit more detail. But these verses will be sufficient for today."

"Okay."

"So, Jesus' final command was for His eleven apostles – which means, 'one who is sent forth' – to go out into all the world and make disciples – that is, learners and followers of Christ. And though He specifically gave this command to those eleven, it's understood -based upon other Scripture - that we current-day disciples are to do the same. We are to tell others about Jesus. As one pastor once put it, 'The Gospel of Christ should not terminate on you. It came to you on its way to someone else.'"

Harry swallowed. "When…when am I supposed to do this? I wouldn't even know what to say. I mean, I've only read a couple of the books in the Bible. I don't think I'm qualified to tell anyone anything."

"And that's where you're wrong, Harry. You don't have to go to seminary and hold a Masters of Divinity degree to share the Gospel with others. And certainly not your own personal testimony. That's what you did last week at your baptism, right? You shared your testimony with your friends. You told them what your life was like without Christ. And, then, you told them how much it had changed with Him. So, anybody - even a brand-new Christian - can share their testimony. And, afterwards, if that person wants to know more, then you can share the Gospel with them, as well. And if you're not sure how to share the Gospel – specifically what to say – that's okay. That's why you're here. To learn. I can tell by the look on your face that you have a question."

"Yeah, I do. Why? Why would God choose us – choose me – to speak to others about Jesus. That seems like a really faulty plan. To put it in our hands."

Festus laughed.

"I agree. He certainly doesn't need us. He could rain down Bibles from Heaven – right into the hands of the lost - if He wanted to. Or simply speak to us through angels or a burning bush or in dreams. There's even a story in the Old Testament about Him speaking to a man named Balaam through his donkey."

"Really?" asked Harry with a laugh.

"Yes. So, again, God doesn't need us. At all. For anything. But for whatever reason, He has ordained that we – His children – empowered by the Holy Spirit, would be the means by which the Gospel – His plan for salvation, through His Son's sacrifice – would go out to the unbelieving world. And as much as the Christian church has failed Him – because, let's be honest, we have – His plan has succeeded. Think about it. The story of Jesus started out with only eleven men in – compared to the Roman Empire - a tiny, backwater nation in the middle of nowhere. And, now, His name is known throughout the world. That just proves, once again, that God and His plans – no matter how impossible they may seem to us - they cannot be thwarted."

"That's a comforting thought," said Harry, a small smile on his face. "God cannot be thwarted."

"Amen, brother."

oOo

"Faster!" yelled Teddy.

Harry sent a surge of his magic into the broom and slightly increased the speed as he held his godson tightly to his chest with his left arm. A moment later, he said, "Get ready for the Wronski Feint, Teddy."

"Yay!"

Harry dipped the tip of his broomstick toward the ground, which caused the little boy to shout in excitement. Given that the two of them weren't that high in the air, they only plummeted downward for a couple of seconds before Harry casually pulled the broomstick back to parallel and continued flying around the property.

After leaving his meeting with Festus, Harry had decided to visit Teddy instead of going back to Grimmauld Place. He hadn't seen his godson since his baptism. That was the main reason for the visit. But, if he was completely honest with himself, he also hadn't wanted to be alone and certainly not in a house that would have done nothing but remind him of Ginny. It was also good to be with someone who didn't treat him any differently because of his new-found faith in Christ. Because of Teddy's age, the little boy didn't truly understand what Harry's decision to follow Jesus even meant and, therefore, he didn't care. Teddy was treating him just like he always had, and that felt nice to Harry.

An hour later, after having put Teddy to bed, Harry walked down the stairs and into the den.

"You okay, Harry?" asked Andromeda sitting in her favorite chair.

"Yeah. I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

"I don't know. You've just seemed a little down tonight. Which is especially strange given what you just accomplished yesterday. I figured that you'd be ecstatic about your latest win."

He paused for a moment, unsure of whether he should say anything. Finally, he took a seat on the couch.

"I might as well tell you," he said after a sigh. "You're going to find out soon enough anyway. The wedding is off."

"Oh, Harry. I'm so sorry." After a moment, she continued. "Does it…does it have anything to do with you becoming religious?"

A part of him wanted to immediately argue – to tell her that Christianity was not a religion. That it was a relationship. But he didn't say anything. He simply nodded instead. He knew what she meant, and frankly he didn't want any more arguments in his life at the moment.

"Yeah. It seems like my decision is affecting almost all of my relationships. Clearly with Ginny, and even with Ron and Hermione. I had a fight with them a few nights ago about it. Some of my teammates were also acting differently around me this weekend."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Harry. I really am because…I kind of know what you're going through."

"You do?"

She nodded.

"When I decided to marry Ted – a Muggle-born – I was completely disowned by my family and virtually all of my friends. Or, at least, my Slytherin friends. Our relationship ran completely counter to their pure-blood bigotry. They couldn't understand – or simply just refused to understand – why I didn't believe the same thing they did. My hope is that things will turn out differently for you. That you'll be able to reconcile with them."

"Did you ever regret it? Your decision. It cost you a lot."

"Never. Not once," she answered with total conviction. "As much as I cared for my family – even despite all their flaws - I chose the better path. I chose love, which was more than worth whatever sacrifices I had to make."

Harry sighed and nodded his head. "Yeah."

"Harry, I don't believe what you believe…about Jesus. But that's okay. You and I don't have to believe the same things about him in order to have a friendship. And I just want you to know – to assure you - that, as long as you continue to love Teddy like you have, then you'll always have a place in his life, okay?"

Harry swallowed hard because he immediately felt a lump in his throat.

"Thanks, Andromeda," he finally said after exhaling slowly. "That means a lot to me. Especially right now."

oOo

As Harry walked through the front gate of Azkaban, he thought that, even without the Dementors, it was still a dreary, depressing place. A cold, wet, North Sea wind whipped and whistled around the small island, and dark clouds blocked out the setting sun. The stone-walled fortress seemed to be covered in a dark shroud of despair. He couldn't see them – and, honesty, he wasn't even sure if they were present - but Harry could almost sense Satan's demons perched atop the parapets and spires of the prison. He couldn't imagine what the fortress must have been like back when hundreds of Dementors roamed the hallways searching for souls upon which to feed, and thinking of those foul creatures sent a small shiver up his spine. As the thick, metal doors clanged and locked shut behind him, he reminded himself that he had God – the Holy Spirit - living inside of him. Therefore, there was nothing to fear.

This wasn't Harry's first trip to the prison. He'd visited it once before – back when he'd been an Auror working a case. Therefore, he knew both the layout of the fortress and the routine for gaining entry – though, it was now a bit stricter for him since he was no longer an official member of the DMLE.

He made his way towards the interview room, but the trip took much longer than usual, for every guard stopped him – shaking his hand and wishing him well on the upcoming World Cup match that would be taking place in about ten days. Eventually, though, he arrived at his destination, and, after the guard unlocked the door, he took a seat at a table with a thick, magically protected piece of glass in the middle. As he waited, he once again pondered on just what exactly had brought him there.

After Sunday's match against Thailand, Harry had fortunately found Ron and Hermione and had apologized to them for losing his temper with them the night before. They had graciously accepted his apology – for which he was grateful – but he'd also noticed that neither of them had offered an apology to him for implying that he was a fool for following Christ. He'd decided, though, to let that go for, honestly, he hadn't apologized simply in order to get one back from them. He'd done it because he'd felt the Holy Spirit poking his conscience. He knew that he'd sinned by acting out in anger, and though he'd already repented of that sin with God, he also knew that he had to make things right with his friends. It had been a convicting experience and had reinforced Festus' teaching that, even though he was now a Christian, he was still a sinner. And, clearly, one of the sins that he struggled with was anger.

As the days passed and he thought more about his history of losing his temper, one episode in particular kept coming back to him – the day many years ago that he'd used the Cruciatus curse on Amycus Carrow. His memory of using it on Bellatrix Lestrange had also come to mind, but given that the woman was now dead, there wasn't much he could do about that. However, Carrow was still alive, rotting in a cell within Azkaban.

And, then, sometime in the middle of the week, he'd felt the Holy Spirit once again convicting him. At first, he hadn't even known what exactly God wanted him to do until he came across Psalm 107 while reading his Bible. It was a long psalm – over forty verses – and the writer repeatedly spoke of giving thanks to the Lord for who He is and for all that He'd done, giving one example after another of God's saving grace and mercy. Towards the middle, the psalmist wrote, 'Some sat in darkness, in utter darkness, prisoners suffering in iron chains, because they rebelled against God's commands and despised the plans of the Most High.' When he'd read that, Harry had immediately thought of Carrow, but he'd also thought of himself because, honestly, that's how he viewed himself – at least spiritually – before Christ had come into his life. As someone lost in darkness and enslaved to his sinful nature with no way, in and of himself, to find freedom. Two verses later, the psalmist continued with, 'Then they cried to the LORD in their trouble, and He saved them from their distress. He brought them out of darkness, the utter darkness, and broke away their chains.'

At that point, Harry had known without a doubt what the Holy Spirit was telling him to do. He had to go to Azkaban and talk to Amycus Carrow – asking him for forgiveness for casting an Unforgivable curse on him and also telling him of the salvation and freedom that comes through Christ. To, as Festus had said, make disciples for Jesus – or, at the very least, to attempt it.

"Really, Lord?" he'd asked, after an incredulous laugh had escaped from his throat. "Are You serious? This is what You want me to do?"

Harry told himself that the chances of a Death Eater granting him – the Boy Who Lived and the man who had killed his Dark Lord – forgiveness had to be less than one in a million. And the likelihood of Carrow receiving Jesus as his new Lord had to be even less than that. But no matter what arguments Harry used with God, the Holy Spirit wouldn't stop pricking his conscience. So, finally, he'd accepted God's prompting and had pulled some strings with Minister Shacklebolt in order to get inside Azkaban.

Harry was suddenly pulled from his thoughts by the screeching sound of the metal door opening on the other side of the interview room. A moment later, two guards escorted in a squat man who had to shuffle his feet along the floor due to the manacles around his ankles. The chain between the manacles was connected to another one that was wrapped around his waist, where his shackled wrists were also chained. Set deep within Carrow's pudgy, pallid face were beady eyes, and when they landed on Harry, they turned hard and cold.

Carrow sat down in the chair across from Harry, and once the two guards had left the room, he growled out, "What the bloody hell do you want, boy?"

Harry was about to answer, but before he could respond, a short laugh came out instead. He shook his head slightly and smiled at the complete absurdity of the situation.

"Well, Carrow," he stated, "believe it or not, I'm actually here to ask for your forgiveness."

The Death Eater immediately furrowed his brows, and then his beady eyes quickly scanned around the room before landing back on Harry.

"What are you on about, Potter? Is this some kind of ploughing joke?"

"I don't blame you for being suspicious. I still can't believe I'm here either, but, no, this is not a practical joke. My life's too busy right now for that. And, even if it wasn't, I certainly wouldn't play one that would bring me to this place. So, no, I'm serious. I'm here to ask for your forgiveness."

Carrow didn't immediately respond. The man just stared into Harry's eyes, who stared straight back, never once even blinking. After everything he'd been through in his life, Harry wasn't intimidated by a man like Carrow even in the slightest – especially given that he was chained-up. Eventually, Harry thought that he saw a sliver of the hostility and suspicion on the Death Eater's face be replaced with curiosity.

"For what?" he finally asked.

Harry gave a slight nod of his head.

"About four years ago – at Hogwarts – I struck you with…a particularly nasty curse. And I -"

"That's right. You did," interrupted Carrow. "And you're lucky that memories viewed in a pensieve aren't admissible in court. Otherwise, you'd be in here with me. Wouldn't you, blood-traitor?"

"Possibly," he said with a nod. Though, the truth was that he was quite sure, given the circumstances at the time, that the Ministry would have let him off with nothing more than a warning. "Regardless…I cast it out of anger. I did it not to incapacitate you or to stop you from harming someone else. I did it strictly because I wanted to hurt you. That was wrong of me, and…I ask for your forgiveness."

Even though he honestly thought that he was wasting his time, Harry had actually been sincere with his words.

The confused look was momentarily back in Carrow's eyes, but a second later, he roared in laughter.

"What are you – some kind of pansy? 'Oh, boo-hoo, I cast a mean curse,'" he mocked. "'I was a bad boy. Please forgive me.' You're pathetic, Potter. I still have no idea how someone like you defeated the Dark Lord. It had to have been pure, blind luck."

"You're probably right," he agreed, not bothered by the Death Eater's attitude. "So, is that a yes or a no on the forgiveness?"

He honestly wasn't even sure why he'd just asked the question. God had told him to apologize and that's what he'd done. Frankly, whether or not Carrow actually forgave him was a bit irrelevant - for that was something that was completely out of his control.

Carrow quickly narrowed his eyes.

"I don't know. Maybe. But it'll cost you."

This time it was Harry's turn to laugh.

"Carrow, I know that forgiveness is probably a completely foreign concept to you, so I'll just go ahead and let you know – that's not how forgiveness works. Forgiveness can only be granted. It's not something to be bartered or earned. Because if I have to earn it – to do something in order to get it - then it's no longer forgiveness. It's justice."

The Death Eater didn't immediately respond, and Harry could tell from his shifty eyes that the man's mind was working at top speed, trying his best to turn the situation to his favor. Finally, Harry saw a small smile come to Carrow's fat lips.

"Let me ask you a question, Potter – have you forgiven me?"

Harry furrowed his brow for a second before answering.

"For what? You never did anything to me – only to my friends. So, if anyone is going to forgive you, it'll have to be them."

Harry suddenly saw his opening to talk about Jesus and, specifically, the forgiveness and freedom that comes through him, but before he could say another word, Carrow cut him off.

"Then, what bloody good are you, Potter!?" he shouted, suddenly straining against his chains. He looked like he was trying to come out of his chair and across the table. "You can take your apology and stick it, boy. Not only do I not accept your apology…but I wish you ill." Harry's answer had clearly not fallen in line with Carrow's scheme – whatever it may have been. After a moment, the Death Eater sat back down and glared at Harry. "Know this, boy," he said coldly and barely above a whisper. "I'll get out of here one day. One way or another. And when I do, I'll come for you. I'm going to kill you and all your loved ones, but not before I torture you first."

Immediately, Harry felt his blood boil. It was one thing to threaten him, but to threaten his friends was unacceptable.

"You'll never get out of here, Carrow," Harry snarled. "But if you do, I'll be waiting. I defeated Voldemort. I'll have no problem with you."

Carrow sneered and cursed Harry before shouting for the guards. After the Death Eater was escorted out of the room, Harry remained in his chair for a couple of minutes, trying his best to calm down. Eventually, he lifted his eyes heavenward and sighed.

"That went about as well as I expected."

oOo

After his visit to Azkaban, Harry wondered if he had perhaps 'misheard' the Holy Spirit's leading with regards to meeting with Carrow. Because hadn't Festus said that God's plans could never be thwarted? Which meant that either he'd been wrong and had misinterpreted the Holy Spirit's prompting to visit the Death Eater in the first place, or Carrow's less-than-gracious response had actually been a part of God's plan all along. But, if that was the case, then that just confused him. If that was so, he honestly didn't see the point of the visit at all. However, he quickly decided not to worry too much about it. He figured that he'd simply talk to Festus about the situation the next time that the two of them met.

And when he woke the next morning, the entire fiasco with Carrow had been pushed to the back of his mind for, as usual, almost all of his thoughts - or, at least, his earthly thoughts - were focused on either Ginny or Quidditch. And that was pretty much his routine for the rest of the week – Quidditch practice during the day and spending time in God's Word at night while doing his best not to wallow in the sadness of his broken relationship. Of course, it didn't help his mood that his birthday was on Saturday. He knew that the original plan had been to have a celebration for him at the Burrow, but after his break up with Ginny, that had been cancelled. Which just reminded him that, similar to the last time they'd broken up, he'd lost more than his fiancée. He'd also lost his extended family. He knew that Ginny's parents, siblings, and in-laws would support her, and he didn't blame them. He understood that family stuck together – or, at least, they were supposed to - but that knowledge didn't lessen the sting.

Therefore, after practice on Saturday, not particularly wanting to be alone on his birthday – for he'd already had way too many lonely birthdays in his life - he went to see his godson. Andromeda cooked him dinner and even got him a cake, and Teddy had made him a homemade birthday card. He'd drawn a picture in crayon of the two of them on brooms playing Quidditch. After dinner, the rest of the evening was spent either flying with Teddy or with the three of them playing some Wizarding board games. Because it was Harry's birthday, Andromeda even let Teddy stay up a bit later than normal. Thus, the sun was already down by the time Harry got back home to Grimmauld Place.

Before heading to bed, Harry followed his normal routine of reading the Bible and praying. He'd just slipped under the sheets when he heard the doorbell softly ring. A few years ago, he'd replaced the obnoxious, loud clanging bell with one that wouldn't wake the dead. He got out of bed wondering who it could be, and for a moment, he hoped that it was Ginny. That she'd come back to tell him that she'd changed her mind about everything.

He hurriedly made his way to the front door, and he opened it to find Constance Goodbottie standing there. He noticed that her eyes widened slightly, and he assumed it was because he was wearing nothing but a pair of athletic shorts. He saw that she, however, was dressed quite nicely – in a skirt that showed off her shapely calves and a silk-like, sleeveless blouse. Her hair and make-up were done, and as usual, she looked stunningly beautiful.

"Hey, Harry," she said, lifting her gaze from his body and onto his face. "I'm sorry – did I wake you?"

"No, I'd just gone to bed, but I hadn't fallen asleep yet. So, no worries. Is everything okay?"

"Uh, yeah, I just…I came by earlier to give you this." At that point, she lifted her hand, which held a medium-sized, wrapped box. "You weren't home, but Kreacher said that you were supposed to be back later…so I thought I'd swing by again on my way home. Happy Birthday, by the way."

Harry smiled and took the present from her.

"You remembered. Thanks. Do you want to come in for a minute? It'd be rude for me to open this here on the doorstep."

After she said yes, Harry left her in the drawing room while he went to put on a t-shirt. When he came back, he had a couple of lemonades in hand.

"Let me know if you want something stronger," he said after handing her the drink. "Or you can get it yourself. You know where it is."

She'd spent a lot of nights at Grimmauld Place the previous year. He figured that she remembered where he kept the booze.

"No, this is perfect. I've already had enough tonight. The stubble suits you, by the way."

"You think so?"

"Definitely.

"Yeah, well, Ginny always preferred me clean shaven so…" He didn't finish his thought, and an awkward silence suddenly filled the room.

"Why don't you open your gift?" she said after a moment.

"Yeah, good idea."

Harry sat next to her on the couch and then grabbed the wrapped gift from the coffee table. He tore off the paper and opened the box to see a simple, silver picture frame. He smiled when he saw the magical photo that was in it. It had been taken a month ago, right after the Cannons had beaten Montrose for the BIQL championship. Whoever had snapped the picture had taken it from a distance. It showed Harry sitting on the team bench - his jersey covered in sweat and grass stains and a couple pieces of small, orange confetti stuck in his hair. Teddy was asleep beside him, his head resting on Harry's thigh. On his other side was his golden MVP trophy, and standing next to him was Constance. The two of them were staring at each other, and one of them must have just said something humorous because they were both smiling and laughing.

Harry looked at the photo for a few moments more – letting all the memories from that night replay through his mind - before turning his attention to the woman sitting next to him.

"Thanks, Constance. I love it."

"I'm glad. I was hoping it would make you smile…especially right now. I figure that you've been a bit down this week."

"So, you know then? About me and Ginny?"

She let out a small laugh.

"Harry, all of Wizarding Britain knows. Have you not seen the papers? The story has been on the front pages pretty much all week."

He shook his head.

"You know I don't read that rubbish."

"Yeah," she said with a smile. "I remember." Her face then turned serious. "How are you doing?"

"I'm okay. Sad but…I'll survive."

She nodded and looked away for just a moment before bringing her eyes back to his.

"Harry, I just want you to know that I'm here for you. I think you're an amazing person, and I've always considered you a friend - even after our romance ended. So, if there's anything you need – even if it's just someone to talk to – I'm here for you, okay?"

Harry didn't say anything. He just continued staring into her sparkling blue eyes. He could see so much kindness and compassion in them, and suddenly, out of nowhere, he felt the strongest desire to kiss her. To hold her in his arms. He'd felt so hurt and lonely all week, and here was someone who clearly thought he was special. And before he even realized what was happening, his lips were on hers. And though it started out as a soft, gentle kiss, it quickly turned into a frenzy. Their hands were roaming over each other's bodies, and passionate moans were escaping from their throats.

Their amorous display had only been going on for a few seconds though when Harry, suddenly, jumped up from the couch and hurried to the other side of the room.

"Whoa…whoa, whoa, whoa…just whoa," he said between deep breaths.

He was amazed at just how quickly his sexual desire for Constance had almost overwhelmed him. He looked at her to see that she, too, was flushed and breathing heavily.

"What is it?" she asked. "What's wrong?"

"Constance, I'm sorry but we…I…I can't do this."

A small smirk came to her face.

"Harry, you're clearly wrong about that," she said, nodding toward the front of his shorts. "You definitely can."

He glanced down to see the very unmistakable evidence of his attraction to her. He looked back up and gave her a smirk of his own before stepping behind a nearby, high-backed chair.

"Yeah, well," he said after giving a cough, "obviously I'm attracted to you."

"Obviously."

"But that's not the issue."

"Then, what is it?"

"Look, bed was always easy for us."

"I remember. We were fantastic together."

"And I agree but…" He then sighed, anticipating what her upcoming response was going to be. "…I, uh, I don't have sex outside of marriage anymore."

The smile slowly fell from her face.

"Are you serious?"

He nodded.

"So, it's true."

"What is?"

"You know how small the Quidditch community is, how fast gossip travels. I heard this week that you had turned religious. But I didn't believe it. So, it's true?"

"Well, my definition of religion is probably different than yours, so I would normally say no. But for the sake of this conversation, yeah, it's true."

Her eyes widened.

"How, Harry? How did that happen?"

"So…you're not upset. About us not having sex?"

He saw a look of tenderness suddenly come to her face.

"Harry, of course not. I'm not going to lie. When I came over here, I thought it might happen. Was even hoping that it would, but, no, I'm not upset. I respect you too much to ever want to knowingly tempt you into something that would make you go against your religious beliefs. So, how did it happen?"

"You're really want to know?"

"Of course."

Harry stepped out from behind the chair, grabbed the picture frame that had fallen on the floor and then sat in the chair across from Constance. He held up the photo and said, "It actually all started the night this was taken."

And over the next hour, he shared with her everything that had happened to him in the past four weeks.

oOo

The next morning Harry woke up alone, looking forward to the day ahead. Coach Barker had given the team the day off from practice so Harry got dressed and headed to Grace Bible Church to hear Festus preach. And right after the service started, Harry was amazed to discover something new about himself – he absolutely loved singing to God. During the previous two times that he'd attended a church service, while he had carefully read the words on the screen, he had never once opened his mouth to sing. He'd had zero desire to. But, now, it was almost as if he couldn't help himself. When the music started, the words just came tumbling out. More than that, though, there were a couple of times that, while singing of God's grace and of Christ's sacrifice, he felt completely overwhelmed with gratitude and began tearing up. He didn't really know how to explain his change in attitude toward singing other than by simply recognizing that he now had God – the Holy Spirit – living inside of him.

After the service was over, Festus surprised Harry by inviting him home for lunch. He'd spoken with Festus' family several times over the previous couple of weeks so he was getting more comfortable being around them, and as he sat around the kitchen table having a meal with people who spoke to him and not at him, with people who smiled at him instead of frowned, who laughed instead of yelled, he realized that, without a doubt, his aunt and uncle were not followers of Christ. The Gold and Dursley families couldn't have been more different if they tried.

Once lunch was over, Festus and Harry went out on the back porch and sat in some chairs looking out onto a small backyard with a tiny garden.

"I haven't talked to you since Monday," said Festus. "How have you been holding up?"

"It hurts a little less each day," answered Harry. "I think I'm actually doing alright."

And then he changed the subject and told the pastor about his visit to the prison earlier in the week – omitting the magical parts of the tale.

"It makes no sense," said Harry after finishing the story. "Why would God send me to talk to that man, when He knew it was going to end the way it did? Assuming, of course, that the Holy Spirit actually was telling me go and that it wasn't me just misunderstanding."

"When you felt your conscience being pricked, did you pray about it?"

"Yeah," said Harry with a laugh. "A lot. Because I didn't want to do it. I thought that if I kept on talking to God about it, He'd eventually change His mind."

Festus laughed.

"Yeah, well, good luck with that. In all seriousness, though, Harry, I would recommend that you not get too caught up in results or outcomes."

"What do you mean?"

"You think that your conversation with that man ended in failure. And if you're judging it by whether or not you led him to Christ right then and there, then, yes, it did. But truthfully, we don't know what God's plans are. And every time we presume to know, we usually get it wrong. And it's because we humans have a very limited perspective. Essentially, we can only see what's right in front of us. But God's plans are eternal and beyond anything that we can imagine. As He says in Isaiah, 'As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts higher than your thoughts.' So, perhaps, He has something planned for next week or next year or next decade that is going to bring Him greater glory, and your conversation this week was simply one tiny piece of the grander puzzle. Or maybe that conversation had absolutely nothing to do with that man. Maybe God was simply testing your faith with that incident, making it stronger so that you'll be better equipped to face some more difficult trial in the future.

"But I've learned this – obeying God doesn't always lead to success. Or, at least, not short-term success. And certainly not success by how the world defines it. I mean, Jesus is the perfect example. He obeyed His Father perfectly and wound up tortured and crucified. If we could have talked to the apostles that day while Jesus was hanging on that cross, they would have said the entire situation was disaster. That Jesus had failed in His mission. But, again, they only had limited perspective. At that time, they didn't see that God had greater plans and that Jesus' death was necessary."

"Yeah," said Harry nodding his head.

"The most important thing is that we simply trust and obey Him. The results, ultimately, are in His hands. Remember – you couldn't even save yourself. So, you certainly can't save anyone else. So, just keep spreading the seeds of the Gospel, and God will make them sprout when and where He wants. But I do want to commend you."

"For what?"

"For once again being obedient. For heeding the Holy Spirit's leading even when you didn't really understand it and when a part of you didn't want to do it. You don't know just how rare that is."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Yeah, well, don't commend me too much."

"Why's that?"

"Because I almost had sex last night."

"With Ginny?"

"No. An ex-girlfriend."

And then Harry went on to tell Festus about Constance's visit. When he was finished, he half-expected for Festus to chastise him, but he didn't. He just warned him.

"It's good that you stopped it when you did. So, let this be a lesson for you, Harry. There's a reason that the apostle Paul instructed us to flee from sexual immorality. We're not supposed to play around with it. We're not supposed to go toe-to-toe with it. No, Paul wrote that we should simply run away from it. Because, while sexual desire is a wonderful gift, it can be like a wildfire. If we feed it – by allowing temptations into our minds - then, before we know it, it's out of control, and it'll consume us. And none of us are exempt. More pastors, deacons, and church leaders have destroyed their ministries because of sexual sin than from any other. So, I would just recommend that, in the future, you be very careful of the situations you put yourself in. But more than that, also be careful of the things – the images and thoughts – that you allow into your mind. Because we are what we think about. The mind is the root of all human behavior."

The two men spoke for a bit longer, and before Harry left, they arranged to meet up one evening later in the week.

Harry spent the rest of the afternoon back at Teddy's with much of that time out by the back pond – first fishing and then, when the fish didn't bite, swimming instead – with Harry casting the Bubble-Head charm on both of them.

When he got back to Grimmauld Place that evening, he was actually feeling pretty good. Probably the best he'd felt since Ginny had walked out a week past. He'd spent the morning worshipping God and the rest of the day with people who truly cared about him. Plus, he was really looking forward to the upcoming week. The World Cup final four would start on Saturday in the outback of Australia. England would be playing Egypt in one semifinal while Viktor Krum would be leading the Bulgarians against Argentina in the other. He wondered what the final would be like if he had to face off against his old Triwizard opponent, and a smile came to his face. Krum was considered the best seeker on the planet so the competitor in Harry really wanted to go up against him.

But, then, his smile slowly faded because Cedric Diggory came to mind. Every time he remembered the Triwizard tournament, he pictured Cedric's death, and then the guilt would return. Harry knew that, intellectually speaking, he wasn't to blame for the Hufflepuff's death but, just like when he recalled all of his friends who died during the Battle of Hogwarts, he still felt guilty. So, at that point, he did the only thing that he knew to do to deal with it. He stopped where he was and closed his eyes.

"Lord, I know that my guilty feelings aren't rational…I mean, since when are any emotions actually rational. So, I know in my mind that his death wasn't truly my fault, but, whether my feelings of guilt are rational or not, I still feel them. So…I just place them at Your feet, knowing that Your death has taken away my guilt – all of it. Please grant me Your peace, Lord…"

Harry spent the rest of the evening in constant prayer – as he was reading the Bible, as he was eating a sandwich for supper, and as he was brushing his teeth, getting ready for bed. He had just pulled back the sheets when he heard a knock on his bedroom door. He opened it to see Kreacher there.

"Pardon, Master Harry, but Mrs. Granger-Weasley is at the floo, asking to come through."

"Yeah, of course. Tell her that I'll meet her in the drawing room."

As he put on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, he wondered what Hermione could want. He thought it was a bit odd that she was visiting so late on a Sunday night, but maybe she was just coming by to wish him a belated birthday. She and Ron had sent him a birthday card yesterday – which was thoughtful – but he sure had missed seeing his two oldest friends in person.

By the time he got to the drawing room, Hermione was already there. She was pacing back and forth in the middle of the room, and when she turned to face him, Harry knew immediately that something was wrong. Her hair was frazzled even more than normal, and she had dark bags under her eyes.

"Hermione? Is everything alright?"

She shook her head.

"Did you and Ron have a fight? It's okay if you did. You can stay here if you need to."

"No, Harry, Ron and I are fine. I'm here because of this."

She held up her hand, and for the first time, Harry noticed that she was holding a Bible.

"Okay," he said with furrowed brows. "What about it?"

"After our argument last weekend, I went home and found the Bible that my grandparents gave me when I was little. As I told you, I'd never actually read the entire thing so I wanted to rectify that."

Harry suddenly narrowed his eyes.

"Why? So, you could come here and talk me out of my decision?"

"No, Harry. So that I could better understand your decision. I thought perhaps I had missed something when I read it all those years ago. Something that you knew that I didn't. Something that caused you to believe."

Upon hearing that, Harry softened his facial features.

"I'm sorry," he said, feeling a bit guilty for thinking poorly of his best friend's intentions. "I shouldn't have assumed. So, what's the problem?"

"Well, I started at the beginning, and at first, everything was fine. I mean, there were some things that the god of the Bible did that I didn't particularly agree with, but, whatever. I just made a note of it and moved on. But then I came across this verse. It was part of a long list of rules that he had given the Jews to follow."

At that point, she pulled a rolled-up piece of parchment out of the Bible. Harry could see that it was covered in Hermione's handwriting.

"It was in Leviticus 19, verse 26. It said, 'Do not practice divination or seek omens.' At the time, I thought that was strange. I mean, I happen to agree. I think divination is rubbish. I was just surprised that the Bible even talked about it. But then I kept reading, and I came across this in Deuteronomy 18: 'When you enter the land the LORD your God is giving you, do not learn to imitate the detestable ways of the nations there. Let no one be found among you who sacrifices their son or daughter in the fire…'"

Hermione paused there and looked up at Harry for just a moment, which gave him time to speak.

"Yeah? And? That sounds like a very moral command to me. What's the problem?"

He had no idea where this was going, but he saw her swallow hard before looking back down at her parchment.

"It goes on. '…nor one who practices divination or sorcery, interprets omens, engages in witchcraft, or casts spells, or who is a medium or spiritist or who consults the dead. Anyone who does these things is detestable to the LORD.'"

Harry didn't immediately respond, but he suddenly remembered his first fight with Ginny about the Bible all those weeks ago. 'Christians hate magic,' she'd claimed.

"Did you hear what I said, Harry?" asked Hermione, bringing him out of his thoughts. "Sorcerers and witches - people who cast spells - are detestable to your god."

Harry shook his head, remembering Festus' teaching.

"Hermione, what's the context of these verses? We've got to look at the context."

"Really? Because the context is going to somehow change the fact that this clearly says that the god of the Bible finds us detestable? And these aren't the only verses, Harry. After I read this, I decided to do an internet search." She then unrolled fully the parchment in her hand. It was over a foot long and had writing on both sides. "The Bible is full of passages that condemn magic users. In both the Old and New Testament. It puts us on the same level as murderers and says that we are destined for hell!"

"What? That can't be right."

She immediately returned to her scroll.

"Galatians 5:19 – 'The acts of the flesh are obvious: sexual immorality, impurity and debauchery, idolatry and witchcraft…' and then the list goes on and on until the writer says, 'I warn you, as I did before, that those who live like this will not inherit the kingdom of God.' Revelation 21:7 – 'Those who are victorious will inherit all this, and I will be their God and they will be my children. But the cowardly, the unbelieving, the vile, the murderers, the sexually immoral, those who practice magic arts, the idolaters and all liars – they will be consigned to the fiery lake of burning sulfur. This is the second death.'"

At that point, she looked up at him.

"I'm not making this up, Harry. Here, see for yourself," she said, holding out the parchment in her trembling hand.

Harry stared at his best friend. She didn't have any kind of triumphant look on her face. In fact, she appeared to be completely distressed. And, frankly, he understood because he was feeling the same. He swallowed hard before taking a couple steps forward to grab the parchment from her hands. He glanced down at it, his eyes scanning over the words. He knew that he was going to have to go to his Bible and look up the actual verses. To see the words in black and white for himself.

"I don't know how you can continue to believe that the Bible is true, Harry," said Hermione softly bringing his attention to her. "Not after finding this out."

He looked at her but didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say.

"The god of the Bible – the god you worship - says we're evil, Harry. Please don't tell me that you actually believe that." Before he could even respond to her, she continued on. "We were born magical, Harry. We didn't choose it. So - not that I agree that magic is evil - but if anyone is to blame for us being magical, it's him. So, how is it fair that we should go to hell over something we had absolutely no control over? Is that really the kind of god you want to worship?"

There were a thousand thoughts going through Harry's mind, but the predominant one was, 'This can't be right. This can't be right.'

"I…I can't answer your questions, Hermione…at least, not right now. I've got to look the verses up myself and…I'm not sure what…figure out what it all means before I can answer your questions or make any decisions. Okay?"

"Okay," she said with a nod of head. "I'm sorry, Harry. I truly am. I know that finding out about this is probably very difficult for you, but…I had to tell you once I saw it. I couldn't hide it from you."

She looked to be on the verge of tears so – even though he was internally freaking out - he stepped forward and wrapped her in a hug, hoping to calm her worries. Hoping that a hug would calm his, as well.

"It's okay, Hermione. You did the right thing. I'm glad you told me instead of keeping it from me," he said, suddenly thinking of Dumbledore. Maybe the old man had been right all along. Maybe the cliché, 'Ignorance is bliss' was true after all.

oOo

"This can't be happening," said Harry with his head in his hands. "This bloody can't be happening."

"Harry, I don't understand," said Festus. "Why are you so upset about what the Bible says about magic? You were calmer when you found out you couldn't marry Ginny."

Harry had barely slept the night before. After Hermione had left Grimmauld Place, he'd spent an hour verifying in his Bible that her notes were accurate. He was hoping that, for once in her life, her reading and note-taking skills were faulty, but that wasn't the case. He'd then spent time reading the entire passages that were surrounding the verses in question. He wanted to make sure that he understood the context of what had been written to the best of his ability. Unfortunately, he couldn't find any pretext or loop-hole that allowed him to interpret the verses differently than how Hermione had interpreted them. So, at that point, he'd grabbed some money and apparated to an all-night cyber-café. He'd emailed Festus, telling him that he had an emergency and needed to see him as soon as possible. He then had spent the rest of the night searching the internet, reading numerous articles by Bible teachers and pastors on the subject of what exactly the Scriptures say about using magic. They all agreed – God frowned upon it. Considered it a sin.

Somehow, despite being completely unfocused and working on no sleep, he'd made it through Quidditch practice without falling off his broom. Afterwards, he'd quickly changed and apparated to Festus' church office, and, once there, he'd asked the pastor what he believed the Bible said about magic. It was not good news.

"Why am I upset!?" he asked, looking up at Festus. "Why am I upset!? I'll tell you why - because I'm…" But he didn't finish his sentence. Instead, he got up from his chair and began pacing back and forth in the small office.

"Harry, if I'm going to help you, then you have to help me understand what's going on."

Harry looked at Festus but then quickly looked away, giving a small shake of his head.

"Harry, come have a seat, okay? Let me pray for us."

That got Harry's attention. He finally stopped pacing, slowly ran his hand through his hair and let out a very long breath. He nodded his head and, once he'd returned to his chair, Festus prayed.

"Father, I ask that You be with us now. That You calm our hearts and minds. That you grant us Your peace and wisdom. For Your glory and our good. In Christ's name we pray, amen."

"Amen," whispered Harry, and then he looked across the desk toward Festus and spoke as calmly and as slowly as he could.

"Since you're a pastor, if I tell you something in confidentiality, do you have to keep it private?"

"Well, there are a couple of exceptions."

"Like what?"

"If you tell me that you're going to harm yourself or someone else, then I'm duty bound to contact the proper authorities, but other than those two things, yes, everything you tell me is confidential."

"So, no matter what else I may say, you won't tell anyone? And I mean anyone – not even Susan?"

"Yes. I promise. Whatever you tell me is between me, you, and God."

Harry stared into Festus' eyes for the longest time. Finally, he swallowed and nodded, making his decision. If he couldn't trust the man sitting across from him, then there wasn't a soul on earth that he'd ever be able to trust.

"You want to know why I'm freaking out?" he asked as he pulled his wand from his arm-holster. "It's because of this."

And then he cast a spell, transforming the paper weight on the desk into a small snapping turtle. Immediately, Festus leapt back in his chair almost tipping over backwards. With wide eyes, he stared at the animal slowly walking across his desk for several seconds before eventually peering at Harry.

"What…what did you just do?" he stammered out.

"Magic. I'm a wizard."