Of Life and Love

Chapter 7

Pain! The pain would start at the crown of his skull and move its way downward to his toes. Or it would stab him randomly at various points both on the surface, and within his body, a body that felt like an ice cube set on fire, his flesh seeming to burn while his bones seemed to be freezing. Only, instead of heat and cold cancelling each other out, they supplemented one another.

Slowly, he rolled over and was immediately punished by a sharp blast of agony in his left arm. For a split second, he just wanted to curl up into a foetal position and die! But he immediately shoved the idea away. He'd been in much worse agony before, and he wasn't about to let this stop him.

He was lying with his lower body still in the water, which wasn't helping him keep warm. So knowing he had to get up, he rolled onto his right side, doing his best to ignore the pain. Then he drew his legs inwards so that they rested against his torso, his ribs hurting tremendously, telling him that a couple of them were broken. He raised himself to his knees by pushing against a soft and squishy surface, and vaguely saw his blurry looking hand sink into mud.

Harry cursed inwardly. The Oculus Reparus Charm treatment he had undergone six months ago was starting to wear off. He should have reinforced it before starting this four-month tour of duty. He'd reckoned he would have it done in between missions, since they were to head back for debriefing and forty-eight hours of rest and recreation after this mission. He knew that within seven days, his eyes would be back to normal, which wasn't a good thing because he didn't have his glasses on him. And he was practically blind without them.

After struggling to his feet, he walked a couple of paces, each step inducing a new wave of pain and nausea. Just as he reached a more solid surface, his legs refused to move any more, and he sank onto a mossy patch, comforted by a peculiar scent emanating from it, making his absently wonder what kind of vegetation it was.

The scent made the fog in his mind lift, and only now did Harry realise that he was in a very strange place. The sky was a pinkish purple, and the clouds seemed a pastel yellow. The other strange thing was that there wasn't a single sound to be heard, except that of rushing water and his own laboured breathing.

Then his attention was drawn by something that sounded like the fluttering of wings, and his eyes searched the sky. He thought he saw a shadowy shape fly over him, and it looked like a raven, though he could be sure given his limited vision. He couldn't trust his sight, but he did trust his hearing, and he knew there was another creature nearby.

Certainty was granted as he heard light footsteps, and a shadow fell over him from behind. Before he could react, a hand settled on his shoulder and a warm feeling replaced the pain that plagued him. As his pain slipped away, so did consciousness, and a comfortable darkness settled on him.

That was the last thing he remembered, before opening his eyes once again. His sight was now they way it used to be without glasses so Harry deduced that he must have drifted in and out of consciousness for at least a week.

He saw a blurry image with long, jet-black hair, wearing a green dress, sitting next to him. "Who..."

"Shhh," she said, and started speaking to him in a strange language. It was Latin.

Harry's Latin had improved a lot during his stay in Concordia, and he was able to understand quite a lot, though not everything she was saying. He stirred and tried to sit up, but a very soft hand gently pressed him down, on what felt like a heap of animal skins. Then she bent down and touched her forehead to his, and Harry could feel a light tingling sensation in his brain.

"Is this how you form your words?"

Harry nodded feebly and wondered how she'd done that. One moment she was speaking Latin, and after what was obviously some kind of magic, she could speak English.

"Do not waste too much energy," she continued. "For a long time you only ingested the special drink I made you, but you are still weak."

"How long was I out?" Harry asked weakly.

"Ah, the concept of time...I had nearly forgotten about that. Time is of no importance, here, but I would guess your were out of consciousness for nineteen sunrises and sunsets."

"That long...where am I? Who are you?"

"You are...in another realm. Some call it umbra, others call it mirror realm. And I am simply one of its inhabitants."

"How did I get here?"

"I am not sure. Through a portal, but I do not know which."

"How do I get out?"

Her hand stroked his cheek softly. "Do not ponder this. You are too weak." She brought a bowl to his lips and he drank greedily.

"What's your name?"

"I have no name," the woman said. "I am simply known as the caretaker of the wildflowers."

"You're a wood-nymph? Like a Veela?" Harry could vaguely see her shake her head. "Yes, and no. Long ago, the Veela decided to remain in your realm, while we limited ourselves to this one. Also, the Veela are only...female. Caretakers are both male and female."

"So you're immortal?"

"You could say that. But time does not mean anything here!" she said, stroking his bare chest, making Harry's heart rate quicken and his loins stir a bit. "Does this please you?"

"Er, please...I'm fine, you don't have to..."

"Do you not...appreciate my efforts?" she asked, and Harry thought he discerned a hint of disappointment in her voice.

"No, it...it 's just that..." Harry stammered.

"I saw your dreams. I saw your women." She reached back and ran her hands through her black hair, and they instantly transformed to fiery red. "Is this more pleasing?"

Harry was shocked. "How did you do that?"

"Magic."

"Obviously." Harry sighed. His chest felt tight, but it no longer hurt. "Hey, you healed me as well."

She nodded. "Caretakers are able healers," she said, tracing her fingers through Harry's hair seductively.

"Hey...stop that," he protested.

"But you like it!"

"That's not the point," Harry said. "It's been a while for me. Right now even Trelawney could excite me...well, maybe not Trelawney, but..."

"But the feeling you had in your dreams, about the girl with the red hair, you had this very pleasing feeling...I liked it...I want to experience it."

Harry had no idea what she was talking about. He didn't remember his dreams, and he knew two red-haired girls. So he decided to find out exactly what she meant. "First of all, how can you see my dreams?"

"It is something caretakers are capable of," she replied.

"Okay," Harry frowned, not completely satisfied with the answer. "...now about this feeling. I'm not sure what you're talking about. Was it love, or just lust?"

"Love...lust?" Harry could vaguely discern a troubled expression. "I do not understand. I was hoping you could explain these to me. Very few mortals ever come here. The ancient caretakers know these words, for they dwelt your realm but they could not explain them to me."

"So you're young?"

She nodded. "I am recent. I have only existed for one hundred of your solar cycles."

"Ah!" Harry sighed. "Well, to answer your question, first I have to find out who I've been dreaming about. This woman...did she have a large family, and brothers?"

The caretaker nodded enthusiastically. "Yes!" Then she frowned. "I felt a bad feeling when you thought about one of them."

'That would be Ron,' Harry thought, and sighed. "I imagine you did. Right then, the feeling you perceived was love, I think."

"It was nice, this love. Can you show me this love?"

Harry felt his face heat up. "No...and I think you're talking about lust and passion." He scratched his head. "How am I going to explain this to you? Many philosophers have spent a great deal of time pondering love. I'm only twenty years old, and I haven't experienced that much love. It isn't something I can explain quickly, and you just have to experience it to know it."

She nodded and straddled Harry. "Yes...show me."

Harry pushed her off with great difficulty. "No-no-no, this isn't love. It's called making love but...I can't show it to you just like that." He struggled to sit up. "Okay, let me begin by saying that love is one of the most carelessly and ill used words in history. I'm going to tell you about real love."

"There is false love, then?"

"I guess you could call it that." Harry sighed. "I'll start by talking about platonic love, all right?" He held up his hand to forestall the inevitable question. "It's non-romantic love." Again he held up his hand as she opened her mouth. "I'll explain what that is later!

"Okay, you know...in nature, usually with mammals, but sometimes other animals as well, mothers fight to the death to protect their offspring?"

The caretaker looked at him questioningly. "Is that love?"

Harry shrugged. "Some argue that they do so to ensure the continued existence of their species. More precisely, their specific essence in the species," he said, trying to avoid to subject of genetics with a being as ignorant and innocent as this caretaker. "But wouldn't it be more logical for them to run away in the face of overwhelming odds, to live and breed another day?"

"Logical?"

Harry groaned. This was going to be tougher than he'd imagined. "I meant, doesn't it make more sense for the mother to abandon her children to spare her own life, and have more offspring later, than to risk her own life?"

The caretaker's eyes widened. "Ah, I see what you mean. So you say that their determination to defend their offspring is love?"

"I think so." Harry nodded. "And it goes further than that. In nature, some animals protect members of their group, even though they are not related...though this doesn't happen so often. But it does with humans. They care about people who are not their relatives.

"Now, some people protect people on a constant basis because that is what they do for a living. They call it duty, and usually this isn't love. They get paid gold, so they can purchase material goods. With real love, you can't expect anything in return. You just do it for other people's happiness."

"Including those unknown to you?"

Harry nodded.

"Why?"

"I don't know. I do it because I believe it's the right thing to do." He blushed. "But maybe in my case it isn't real love either...because deep down...I hope that if I work hard enough, and save enough lives, the people I love will forgive me. So there is a bit of selfishness there."

"You fight for love? Real love?"

"Yes, you could say that."

"But why? The people you love hurt you. Why do you want to love them still?" the caretaker asked. Judging from her tone Harry determined that she was utterly confused.

"Why love if losing hurts so much?" Harry shook his head. "I have no answer to that...only the life I've lived. And that life taught me not to give up on those I love...to always hope that someday they might forgive me."

The caretaker took a minute to let it sink in, before asking, "Why do you hope?"

"Hope is better than despair." Harry shrugged. "It's all that keeps me going."

"Going where?"

"I don't know." Harry sighed. "But we mortals have a saying; ' The journey of life isn't about reaching the destination, but about the journey itself. You see; the destination is death. But it is the life you lead that matters. Do you understand?"

The caretaker twirled her red hair between her fingers pensively. "I believe I understand some of it. So that is real love?"

"To tell you the truth, that doesn't even begin to describe it. But it's the best I could do on such short notice."

"But love...why do it if it hurts?" she asked again.

It was clear that that part had been hard for her to understand, and Harry chuckled. "It doesn't always hurt, or...only in my case does it hurt most of the time." He smiled ruefully. "But the fact that it hurts is a good thing, because only the people you love can truly hurt you, and it's good to know that I'm still capable of love. Voldemort wasn't so lucky though."

The caretaker nodded. "I saw him in your dreams too. Bad dreams."

"I still have those from time to time."

"The feeling you felt..."

"Hate?" Harry frowned. "Yes, I used to hate Voldemort for what he did, and what he almost made me. But I know I have only myself to blame for what I almost became, because ultimately it is the choices we make that form our character. As for what he did...he too was a victim of evil. I understand his father abandoned his mother because of what she was. He never knew love either, and for that I pity him, really.

"I would be lying if I told you I no longer feel hate towards him, and his memory. But I'm not perfect either. All I can do is try to improve myself."

"Ah!" The caretaker exclaimed. "So love is the opposite of hate?"

"I'm not sure," Harry admitted. "I wouldn't call it the opposite. All I know is that hate thrives in the absence of love."

The caretaker brought the bowl to his lips, and again he drank greedily, realising that he must have been dehydrated pretty badly.

The caretaker wiped the excess fluid off his chin. "Now tell me about that other love."

"I really can't," Harry said, embarrassed. " I really don't know much about that. Ginny is the only person I've ever loved that way. I'm hardly an expert on the matter."

"But no one else here can tell me. I want to know," the caretaker complained, sounding like a little girl.

"Okay, okay!" Harry grinned. "Okay, I have no close blood relatives who care about me, right? But that doesn't mean I don't have a family. My best friend's family took me in as one of their own, and loved me as if I were.

"Ginny is his younger sister, and I didn't really notice her the first four years I knew her. Then Ron and Hermione got together and had less time for me, so Ginny filled the gap they left, and I got to know her better. She became my best friend, in a way. She was always there for me."

"You loved her platonic!" the caretaker interrupted.

"Very good, yes, I loved her platonically," Harry smiled. "You really did understand. But then, in my sixth year, I saw her being chatted up by another bloke, and for some reason I felt like decking him. Nothing fancy, no magic, I just wanted to beat the living daylights out of him." said Harry, remembering the feeling vividly. "It turns out I was in love with her."

"In love?"

"Yes, romantic love," Harry explained. "You see, the feeling I felt was jealousy. A kind of anger if you see something you want, about to be taken away from you. Actually, there is more to it than that, but I can't really explain. See, there is also envy, but that's different."

"You were in jealousy?"

Harry laughed. "I was jealous, yes! I realised then, that I loved her both romantically and platonically." He frowned as he finished the sentence. Could one love someone else both romantically and platonically, or were the two mutually exclusive? Maybe it had been neither. Maybe his love for Ginny transformed right then and there into some higher form of love. True love.... "Well, it took a couple of months actually...I was pretty dense," he continued. It was like finding a new and secret drawer in a cupboard you've had all your life. Like a bright blaze, kindled by an unexpected spark. It was like...powerful magic...the Cruciatus in reverse."

His face fell. "Then I realised that I couldn't tell her...make my feelings for her known. Because I knew Voldemort would make an extra effort to harm her if I did. He was already trying very hard to kill the Weasleys in particular, apart from his other opponents. Had I confessed my love and made it public, word would have reached Voldemort...it would have made things worse."

"And she ceased to love you when you harmed her brother," the caretaker summarised.

"How did you know?" Harry asked, surprised.

"I saw it in your dream," she said gloomily.

"Right, I forgot about that!" He smiled ruefully and slapped his forehead theatrically, trying the hide the mounting pain that was surging up from the depths of his soul. He'd tried to put his feelings for Ginny behind him for so long. It had been impossible, but he'd thought he'd managed to bury them deeper than this. Having to discuss them now was like tearing the scab off an old wound, and the pain was just as raw as when the wound had been fresh. Even worse, it felt like someone was prodding that reopened wound viciously. "So then I realised there was no use in telling her...even after I'd defeated Voldemort. I thought people would rejoice when that happened, and they would forgive me, but their fear of Voldemort was replaced by a fear of me. I wanted to redeem myself, so I became an Auror. I worked hard and became the best. But they still didn't trust me, and they worked me harder than the others. I was angry with them at first, but I realised in time that anger and resentment had caused me to do the very thing that had got me into that mess. So I swallowed my pride and endured it. They nearly broke me. Then the Rangers contacted me. I'm glad they did...it saved me a lot of hurt."

"And you still love her...Ginny?"

"I would die a thousand horrible deaths for her, if that were possible. She's the only one for me. I tried to forget her, but I failed miserably. Even if she finds another, I'll still love her. I just want her to be happy.

"Even if you can't have her for yourself?" The caretaker frowned.

"It'll hurt, of course. I don't know how I'll feel if she marries another. If she does, my heart will never be mended, because she still holds half of it. I don't know who I'll be, then. But I guess I'll just have to get my strength from the fact that she's happy," he said, knowing it was a downright lie. When Ginny had told him she never wanted to see him again...it had been worse than anything he'd ever experienced before. Worse than anything Voldemort could have done with him. He was genuinely afraid that if Ginny gave her heart to another, his would be lost forever.

It was as if an icy hand had reached into his chest and had started squeezing it, and his hurt was nearly a physical pain. He closed his eyes in an effort to hold back his tears, but they streamed out under the tightly shut eyelids anyway.

The caretaker reached over and with surprising strength she pulled him towards her and cradled his head in her lap. She wiped his tears off his face, and as Harry opened his eyes again, a searing pain shot through his soul again for he was instantly reminded of Ginny at the sight of the fiery red locks that dangled across his face.

Strangely enough, all his emotional anguish drained away as she touched her hand to his forehead.

Before he had time to ponder exactly how she'd done this, a shadow fell across them, and as Harry looked he saw a stooping figure standing over them. A raven sat on his shoulder. "Good, you are awake."

"Are you a caretaker as well?"

"Yes." The figure nodded. "I was concerned. You were seriously injured when we found you. You have beaten the odds by surviving."

"It was that bad, huh?"

The figure, Harry recognised the blurry image as that of an old and bald man, nodded. "The armour you were wearing saved your life. I examined it...Graphorn hide?"

Harry nodded.

"It was dented in several places," the man continued. "You were very lucky."

"What about my wand, and my goggles?"

"They are being kept in my dwelling," the old caretaker said, and then frowned. "It is unusual for a wizard to carry two wands. I saw an eleven-inch phoenix tail feather and holly, and a fourteen-inch dragon heartstring and ironwood. Both powerful, but very different. They can't both belong to you."

"They don't," Harry said, and proceeded to explain what happened in India. "So I knew my only chance to escape the cave in was to jump into the underground river with a Bubble-Head Charm to allow me to breathe."

The caretaker smiled. "So you killed Hannibal Skaras. I thank you for that. He was a menace to both our realms. And there were many tunnels, you say?"

"They criss-crossed the entire area. I reckon the vampires used them to get around in daytime."

"Perhaps." The old caretaker frowned. "I think he was digging to find the portal. This realm holds magic items that could have given him the power of a higher deity."

"Wow, that hadn't occurred to me," Harry said, and brief silence blanketed them, before he asked, "How do I get out of this realm? Not that I don't enjoy your hospitality."

"You have to wait for a full solar eclipse in your realm. The sky will turn blue in this realm. That is how you see that it is time to go. Then you can simply Apparate back into your realm."

Harry quickly ran the numbers through his head. "But the next eclipse won't be until half way through next year...in June 2001. I can't wait that long! There must be another way out of here. There are portals into this realm. There must be one that leads out of this realm."

"There isn't. You will have to wait," the old caretaker said.

"But I thought there was..." the young female caretaker began, but a stern look from the old caretaker silenced her.

"Yes?" Harry asked eagerly. "There is another portal isn't there?" He looked at the old caretaker accusingly. "Why did you lie to me?"

"Because the exit portal is far away from here. It is hardly worth the journey, and it is in the middle of the Forest of Reflections. Merlin, Circe, Lituolone, Tecumseh, Rama, Yamato Take, Godric Gryffindor, Ivan Tsarevich and most recently, Pecos Bill; they all decided it was worth the wait after we told them what dangers would await them in the Forest of Reflections."

Harry could believe the names he was hearing. Had Godric Gryffindor been there? Pecos Bill was a wizard? He'd read about him in Tall Tales of the Wild West, one of Dudley's many untouched books that had sat on the shelves in his room in no. 4 Privet Drive. He shook his head. "I have to get back. Didn't anyone ever try to get to the portal?"

"Yes, and none of them survived. You will be assaulted by hordes of Red Caps, clans of trolls, swarms of flesh eating Doxies that will strip your bones clean," the old caretaker warned. "And those are just the lesser dangers. It will be like nothing you have ever faced before."

"I have to try!" Harry repeated stubbornly.

The young caretaker placed her small and soft hand on his shoulder. "No! You do not know what you are saying! Just wait for the eclipse," she pleaded.

Harry looked at her and was almost swayed by the genuine fear and worry in her voice. He also noticed that her hair had gone back to its normal colour.

"At least wait until you have your strength back," the elder caretaker proposed.

Harry thought about it. The warning sounded serious, and it was stupid to attempt this when he wasn't at his full strength. "All right then." He nodded. " In the meantime, can I at least get out of bed and explore this place. I might as well learn about it while I'm here."

The old caretaker nodded at the young caretaker. "She will show you around." He turned and walked away, but stopped and turned around again in the doorway of the dwelling. "And come to see me the day after tomorrow. She will show you how to find me. We have some things to discuss," he said, before walking out of the dwelling.

"Tomorrow!" The young caretaker said carefully, as if tasting food for the first time. "That means after the next sunrise, right?"

"Yes, it does." Harry nodded.

She sighed happily. "It is nice that you are here. I can learn so much from you."

"I reckon I can learn much more from you," Harry said. "After all, you're five times older than me."

She laughed melodiously. "Perhaps! But come." She helped him up. "I will show you around."

"I need my wand," Harry said. "I have to perform an Oculus Reparus charm to restore my eyesight." He knew it wouldn't last half as long as it would if done by an expert, and that he wouldn't have 20/20 vision, but anything would be better than his current eyesight.

She nodded, and from the corner of his eye Harry saw a raven take off. "He will fetch your wand for you," she explained.

"So you use ravens to carry messages and the like?" Harry asked, guessing that ravens fulfilled the role that owls did in a large part of the wizarding world.

She shook her head. "Time has no meaning here, so we are never in haste. If we need something, we always go in person. I am sending him instead because I do not want to leave you alone."

"I'm not a little baby, you know," Harry said irritably. As he said that, his legs trembled under his own weight and he had to lean onto the caretaker. He blushed. "Then again, I see your point."

*

Two days later, the raven guided Harry to where the old caretaker lived. The caretaker of wildflowers told him that the old caretaker was called the caretaker of the winds, and that he lived on an island in the sky. The raven would take Harry to a Hippogriff, who would fly him up there.

After a one-hour walk at a leisurely pace, they arrived on a hilltop where a magnificent black Hippogriff awaited Harry. He bowed to the creature, and awaited its reply. It took a while, for the creature eyed him with some disdain, but it finally bowed back, and Harry moved closer. The Hippogriff bent down to allow him easier access, and Harry saw that a saddle had been strapped to it's back, and that two handles were added to the front of the saddle. He guessed that these additions allowed the rider a better grip than he'd otherwise get on the slick feathers of the beast's neck.

The creature took off after Harry had gotten a good grip, and it flew higher and higher, through the yellow clouds. In the distance, Harry discerned what looked like five Griffins flying in a V formation. He couldn't be sure, because he hadn't been able to fix his eyes completely, partly because the charm in question wasn't his speciality. But there was another reason that had him worried. His own wand wasn't terribly reliable in this place, and Wolfe's wand didn't work for him at all. It was as if some current in the realm interfered with the focussing properties of the wand.

They banked around a cloud and suddenly a floating island came into view. He saw the stooping figure of the caretaker of the winds waiting for him. The Hippogriff landed near the caretaker, and Harry carefully dismounted. He felt strangely drained after the journey, and realised that it would take a while before he would recover completely.

The caretaker walked over to him and steadied him with a surprisingly strong grip.

"Thanks." Harry mumbled, a bit embarrassed by his weakened state.

"Don't mention it." The caretaker said. "It has been a while since I had a conversation with a mortal. You can tell me all about recent developments. Pecos Bill told me about the steam engine. Fascinating really, what non-magical folk can think of. A pity that most of their antics harm nature."

Harry told him about recent developments and Muggle technology, and the Internet especially intrigued the caretaker. Harry didn't know too much about that, since the Internet became had become widespread after he went to Hogwarts, but he explained it as best he could, and the caretaker listened, intrigued. "So e-mails are much faster than owls, but e-mails can't find people like owls can," Harry summarised.

"Fascinating." The caretaker nodded, reminding Harry very much of Arthur Weasley and a pang of hurt flashed through his heart as the memory touched his mind.

"You miss your family, don't you? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry, but you were very transparent." The caretaker frowned.

"That's okay." Harry sighed. He had got used to it with the other caretaker, and he didn't really mind much anymore.

"I know someone who may be able to ease your mind. I will ask Windbeak to fly you down to where the caretaker of the ponds dwells. He is an excellent counsellor."

"I think I'll go see him then." Harry nodded. "But I've been meaning to ask you something."

"You may ask." The caretaker smiled.

"Well...Merlin, and Yamato Take and Rama and Gryffindor...they've been here?".

The caretaker nodded. "Yes, they have."

Harry was deeply awed by all the great names. "Amazing. Who would have thought..." He shook his head. "The only difference between them and me is that they probably came here by choice."

"And they had enough sense to heed our warnings," the caretaker added.

"Oh, quit it already," Harry said, annoyed.

"You still want to go, don't you?" The caretaker shook his head. "Did you not notice that your wand is nearly useless here? You cannot count on it to work at all times."

"I'll just have to be really careful then." Harry shrugged and got up. "I think I'll go find that other caretaker now. Does he like unexpected visitors?"

"He is expecting you," the caretaker said.

"How? You just suggested that I go see him, and you don't have a fire-connection or some other form of communication. Or are all you caretakers telepathic?"

The caretaker laughed. "I didn't mean that he knows you are coming now. I meant he knew you'd be visiting him eventually."

Harry grinned sheepishly. "Oh!"

So he mounted the Hippogriff and enjoyed the view as it flew him to wherever this caretaker lived. He recognised the small hill covered by wildflowers, which was where the caretaker of wildflowers lived, and he saw her tiny figure look up and wave at him. He didn't dare take one of his hands off the handles to wave back, so he just hoped she wouldn't be offended by a lack of response. He knew his fear of falling was quite ludicrous, but a Hippogriff wasn't a broom, so he decided it was better to be safe than sorry.

Half an hour later they were soaring over plains covered by tall grass, and they started losing altitude quickly.

This had to be the place, Harry thought, as he jumped off the Hippogriff. A pond surrounded by tall grass.

The pond was still, and reflected the purple sky, giving it and eerie look. Harry frowned and wondered how this caretaker would be able to help him.

The caretaker seemingly appeared out of nowhere and walked up to him through the tall grass. "On such a beautiful day, it must be difficult to stay so serious," he said, probably having noticed the look on Harry's face.

"Is it?" Harry frowned.

Watching the pond intently, the caretaker continued to walk. "Join me if you like." The caretaker walked to the edge of the still pond, framed by tall, willow-like trees, their leaves golden orange and fruits silvery white. "Please sit down," the caretaker invited, patting the ground next to him. Looking carefully before sitting, Harry brushed the ground to clear some leaves and make a space for himself.

"Now, find a small stone, please," the caretaker instructed.

"What?"

" A stone. Please find a small stone and throw it in the pond."

Searching around him, Harry grabbed a pebble and threw it as far as he could.

"Tell me what you see," the caretaker instructed.

Straining his imperfect eyes to not miss a single detail, Harry looked at the water's surface. He didn't know what he was supposed to see, so he opted just to say what he saw. "I see ripples."

"Where did the ripples come from?"

"From the pebble I threw in the pond."

"Please reach your hand into the water and stop the ripples," the caretaker asked.

Not understanding, Harry stuck his hand in the water as a ripple neared, only to cause more ripples. Harry was now completely baffled. Where was this going? Puzzled, the young man waited.

"Were you able to stop the ripples with your hands?" the caretaker asked.

"No, of course not."

"Could you have stopped the ripples, then?"

"No, I told you I only caused more ripples."

"What if you had stopped the pebble from entering the water to begin with?" The caretaker smiled such a beautiful smile; Harry couldn't be upset anymore. "Next time you are unhappy with your life, catch the stone before it hits the water. Do not spend time trying to undo what you have done. That is impossible. Rather, change what you are going to do before you do it." The caretaker looked kindly upon the young man.

"But caretaker, how will I know what I am going to do before I do it?"

"Take the responsibility for living your own life. If you're working with a doctor to treat an illness, then ask the doctor to help you understand what caused the illness. Do not just treat the ripples. Keep asking questions."

Harry sighed, his mind reeling. "Are you saying that I know the answers?"

"You may not know the answers right now, but if you ask the right questions, then you shall discover the answers."

"But what are the right questions, caretaker?"

"There are no wrong questions, only unasked ones. We must ask, for without asking, we cannot receive answers. But it is your responsibility to ask. No one else can do that for you."

Harry nodded and reflected on the caretaker's words, eyeing him curiously. He had a long white beard, and reminded Harry of Albus Dumbledore a bit.

"Did you understand what I explained just now?"

Harry nodded. Ron was like the pond, only instead of a pebble falling into it, a boulder weighing several tonnes had plunged in, not only causing ripples, but making the pond go dark with mud stirred from the bottom. It would take a long time for the water to become clear again, and the mud stirred up from the bottom by the huge impact, to settle down, and in a meantime there was nothing Harry could do about it.

"My reflection in the pond is the way my friend perceives me. The pond is like his soul...ravaged. There isn't anything I can do, is there?"

"Your friend must choose to forgive you."

"So what...are you saying that becoming a Ranger wasn't the right thing to do?"

"On the contrary. It kept you from throwing more pebbles."

"You think the others will forgive me?"

"What do you think?"

Harry shrugged and looked at the pond. "I reckon they might, now that you've given me this perspective on things."

The caretaker laughed. "It wasn't I who gave you this perspective, I just made you realise that you had it all along."

The strange answer prompted Harry to look at the caretaker, only to find that he had disappeared, making him wonder whether it had been a caretaker, or some powerful kind of mirror realm magic that animated and gave tangible shape to his own thoughts.

Three months passed, and Harry was as good as new. He suspected he might even be a little better. That potion the caretakers gave him induced vitality previously alien to him. And the caretakers hadn't only healed his body, but they had done their best to heal his mind as well.

He looked at the pretty caretaker of wildflowers, whom he had named Carey. She had wanted a name very badly, so he'd indulged her. She was curiously examining his magical Vision Enhancement Goggles.

"It is time for me to leave."

She didn't look up.

He knew it was because she was angry with him. She didn't want him to leave, and he suspected it was because she had developed feelings for him. He felt terrible, because it was entirely his fault. He shouldn't have given in to her when she kept asking him to show her more aspects of love. He should have resisted... he should have been strong. But he was only twenty years old, and not out of the uncontrollable hormone realm yet. It was Heidi all over again. He had taken advantage of a woman, again! But there was no harm done...right? And it wasn't as if he seduced her or anything...

He cursed himself. It was his fault! He couldn't try to rationalise it away. He shouldn't have slept with her...he should have had the foresight to predict the inevitable consequences of his actions. Because he didn't just sleep with her once, but over a dozen times over the last month. She had wanted him to, and she sure seemed to enjoy earthly pleasures, but he still should have refused. Now he had to deal with this, and he wasn't entirely unaffected by her hurt.

"You are abandoning me," she said tonelessly.

"I already told you..." Harry began, but her pained expression cut him off.

She crossed her arms. "Go then. I will tell the others you've left."

Not daring to meet her gaze, Harry took his goggles and placed them into his pouch. Then he donned his armour, and jammed Wolfe's wand into the special holster, next to his own wand.

He grabbed a bag Carey had made him. It was filled with food and drink that would sustain him on his journey, and miraculum weed, a weed that had become extinct in the earthly realm about 500 BC. If he brought that weed back Concordia, the botanists might be able to replant and grow it, and many people would be cured from previously incurable afflictions. Lilia had once told him that Wolfsbane potion was more of a rediscovery than a genuinely new discovery. She had read about it in an ancient scroll that contained many cures for all kinds of afflictions. Apparently, Carthaginian wizards had discovered Wolfsbane potion, and if miraculum weed was added to it, it would boost the potency so much that it could permanently cure a person bitten by a werewolf, provided that it was administered to him before the rise of the next full moon. So if someone was bitten, he or she had a whole lunar cycle to drink the potion and stood an excellent chance of being cured permanently. It wouldn't do Remus any good in that respect, but many others could be saved with it. And it also served to boost the potency of other restorative potions, so the potency of all kinds of magical medicines would be boosted.

Harry held the bag tightly, aware of its precious cargo. He couldn't lose that bag no matter what. He glanced at Carey one more time. "I won't forget you!"

She just turned away from him, silently crying. Harry turned and started his trek towards the hazardous Forest of Reflections.

*

Carey glanced over her shoulder and beheld his retreating form. She understood now, how love and pain were linked. "Goodbye Harry. Part of me will forever be yours," she sniffed quietly.

***