33. Admission
Harry walked through the nearly empty halls of the castle in the early morning. Droplets pelted the muddy grounds surrounding Hogwarts. It was a nearly perfect backdrop to the symphony of Harry's life. He cringed at the depressive thoughts.
It came as little surprise that rumors of his drastic reaction towards the Dementors, the robed figures on the train, had spread throughout the student body. Harry was more upset over his lashing out than the rumors really. That was the core issue.
Harry paused and rejected the notion. That was not the main issue whatsoever. The boy had foolishly thought that he could rise over his transgression, but the Dementor reached into the abyss he had plunged those feelings and dragged them kicking and screaming.
Stalking slowly, but unsteadily, was a dog that seemed to blend with the bleeding night that was being casted away by the tip of the Sun. Its coat, once proud, was a mess of twigs and mud. Harry knew that it wasn't an ordinary dog. If the magic wasn't enough of a clue, there was something intelligent in the eyes. A sea of sorrow and hatred poured out of them and mixed with the rain.
Slowly, he gestured for the dog to come closer. When it failed to move, seemingly lost in its own mind, Harry walked towards it. Taking care to cover them both underneath his umbrella, together they continued their walk.
The two not too dissimilar beings made their way to the lake that stretched before the school. No form of contact was made between the pair. Harry felt that the dog was too much to be a pet.
As they reached the edge of the river, Harry caught sight of the Pale Lady. No reality distortion was felt by the boy. It was puzzling, but not unexpected. Who could truly be prepared for her?
A thick log provided her a resting spot. Four decorative pillows served as support beneath her form. By her side were three equally luxurious pillows piled on each other. On the ground was a pile of two. In the center of the log was a beach umbrella that extended several feet above her dark hair.
The Pale Lady drank from a steaming tea cup. Harry noticed a slight change of wardrobe. On top of her typical clothes, there was a thick furred coat. His mind told him it was freely given from a beast beyond his comprehension. Still he felt it suited her quite nicely.
Following additional steam trails, he saw that there were two tea cups on a platter next to a bowl of hearty soup.
Taking the soup and a cup, he placed it beside the pillows on the ground, which the dog gladly took. Smiling lightly at the dog, he took his own cup and seat.
No words were spoken between them, only the rhythmic sound of falling rain into the lake prevented total silence. Sipping the green tea, he found it especially bitter to the tongue. A fine distraction from his thoughts. Her presence had changed from a dazzling warmth to an intoxicating flare as of late. Her figure and mannerism set his blood on fire. It ached pleasantly and more often than not brought him to a tingling bliss he couldn't quite fathom.
Clearing his throat, he broke the veil of silence, "Was I wrong?" There was no need to explain himself to one such as her. She who had her fingers in a little of everything. Harry expected her to be fully aware of the topic he spoke of.
The thin dog seemed to watch him from the corner of its eyes.
The Pale Lady placed the cup on the saucer in her other hand. "Yes. In your panic, you chose a permanent solution. I cannot absolve you of your guilt. It gnaws at you for the simple reason that you have morals you felt were broken."
Her words felt stronger than the tea itself and far less palpable. "Andre could've died", he said hoarsely.
"And the woman is surely dead", she rebutted. "Whatever your intentions were, you created her. While I understand your dislike of the type of research your friend Hermione so enjoys, you can't afford constant ignorance", her voice was steady and firm, "That spell you used based the being on the experience of the technology. Something old that was to be thrown away would of course hold attachments towards the owner. It was there at the very beginning of that business and experienced so much. Then when life flowed through it, the woman was not prepared for the influx of emotions."
"But I just ended her", Harry said morosely. "But I can fix this, can't I? Maybe if I do the spell again?"
She shook her head, "When you nulled it, you wiped the experiences as well. Even if you do the spell again, a new being would be created. There is no take backs in this case. Now you have to decide what to do with this guilt. Some dwell on it and drown, others reject it and justify themselves, and then there are those who feel that they must make up for it."
None of the stated options sounded pleasant to him. "I can't stop seeing her. I wish I could just go back and stop myself", he uttered.
"You wouldn't be the first to wish to undo their mistakes. You can only move forwards from here. But if it eases your pain, she didn't blame you. She just didn't want to lose her home. As her existence ended, she had remorse for the position she put you in and forgives you", the Pale Lady said kindly.
As the Sun fully rose, Harry Potter cried deeply in resignation and appreciation.
Beneath him the dog seemed to whimper in understanding and sympathy. So the odd trio simply mulled their thoughts as the Sun illuminated the surface of the dark waters.
