Harry raised his arm and the bird flew off, hovering in the air. His
mother reached out to touch his face, and she smiled quietly. "Harry."
Harry bit back his tears and turned away. "What are you doing here? Are you alive?" He asked when he turned back.
"No Harry, we are not alive, but we are not dead either."
"Then you can come back?" Harry said hopefully.
"No sweet, but we cannot die either. We will not rest until Voldemort is destroyed." His mother smiled sadly.
"But, if you're here now, I mean, can't you just leave, and we'll be like a real family?" Even as Harry spoke he knew his question was in vain.
"We are jerked from place to place, our souls follow Voldemort. That's why it's dangerous for you to be here. For you to follow us."
"But we had to see you, even just once." His mother reached out to touch his face, but even as her fingers were brushing his cheek, she was disappearing.
"We love you Harry. Be strong." And his father disappeared, his mother seconds later.
Harry turned to the phoenix, tears in his eyes. "Ready to go Pen?"
The phoenix leaned its head on Harry's shoulder and wept with him, but all the phoenix tears in the world could not mend his broken heart.
*~*~*~*~*~
"So what happened to you?" Harry asked, when he finished telling Hermione about what happened in the forest.
"Well Snape took me to Dumbledore's office, and he told me somewhat of what you told me just now. He also said that-Oh Harry, he said I can't go home again."
"What?"
"He said they, he said that I, oh Harry! I can't go home!"
Harry didn't press her for details, only took her in his arms and let her weep. She cried herself to sleep and Harry left her on the chesterfield and went to talk to Snape.
"You should be in bed Potter." Snape said, not looking up.
"Why can't she go home?" Harry asked, ignoring Snape.
"It's not safe to send you home. Any of you. Not Ron, not Hermione and most definitely not you." It was the first time Snape had allowed himself to use anything other than their last names.
"Why?"
"Because they're after you, and consequently Potter, they're after the people who know where you are. It isn't safe."
"So why can't we just not tell them where I am?"
"Sounds like a good idea Potter. In fact, we'll send envoys to the Dark Lord and let him know they have no idea where you are too. Perhaps he'll even believe us. Oh yes Potter, it sounds very good indeed."
Harry took a deep breath to keep himself from throttling Snape. "I just wanted to see if there were any other options for them. They shouldn't be punished just because they're my friends."
"The headmaster has thought about this for a long time, he decided this was the only entirely safe option."
"Screw the headmaster." Harry said under his breath, then in a louder voice, "I suppose he considered what will happen should Voldemort never be destroyed? He can't keep us here forever."
"Trust me Potter, I have done everything possible to give you three your freedom. I want you here even less than you want to be here."
"I've grown quite fond of you too." Harry said, and walked back into the common room.
~*~*~*~*~
Ron arrived first thing the next morning to find Hermione sleeping on the chesterfield and Harry sprawled out on the floor. "Rough night?" He asked, rousing Harry.
"Shut up."
"There are beds upstairs unless I'm mistaken."
"I was really tired. And I was trying to study." As if to prove his point Harry peeled a page from his book off his face.
"Oh yeah," Ron said, lifting the book up. "Postman Pat Goes To Spain" Yeah, looks like you were studying hard."
Harry looked at the book and raised his eyebrows. "Postman Pat's cool. He like has this cat and stuff. And he delivers the post."
"No shit Sherlock. So what happened while I was gone?"
Harry told Ron the whole story, and when he was done they both looked at Hermione. "Should we wake her up?"
"What's the point?" Harry asked. "It's not like we have anything to do today. Or any day. You know, if Voldemort's planning to do anything to us, I wish that he would hurry up and start. But they won't let me go after him, so we have to wait for him to do something."
"Maybe he won't ever start a war." Ron said, voicing everyone's greatest fear. "Maybe he'll just strike randomly forever, and we'll be stuck here until we graduate."
Harry looked at his best friend. "Do you think that will actually happen?"
"There wasn't a war last time." Ron said carefully. "There's always a possibility."
Harry sighed. "But there is a possibility we'll get out of here before then right?"
"You-Know-Who will probably just wait until we graduate to kill you. He's waited fourteen years already."
Harry sighed again. "I'm going to go talk to Seamus."
Ron shrugged. "Seamus?"
"Sure. That way, if someone tortures him for information, no one will care."
Harry got up and walked over to Seamus, who was sitting in a corner, frantically trying to finish his summer homework.
"Hey Finnigan."
"Hello Harry. What's the matter?"
"I'm putting people in danger just by being their friends." Harry said hollowly.
"So what are you going to do about it?" Seamus asked, suddenly turning and attacking the parchment with force, scrawling down a paragraph in twenty seconds.
Harry shrugged. "Leave. I suppose. Just leave one day, and not tell anyone where I'm going or what I'm going to do. I'll just leave."
"Oh yeah, that would be clever Harry, uh huh, really clever. Besides, there's a certain glory in being the hunted," Seamus stopped for a moment, put several large slashes through his paper and turned back to Harry calmly. "What would Weasley do if he didn't have that," Seamus paused with a sophisticated flourish. "Stigma?"
"Well gee Seamus, when you put it THAT way, Ron and Hermione should be grateful that they can never see their families again."
"Exactly."
"You are so full of crap Seamus, it isn't even funny."
"I am NOT full of crap. I am an optimist."
"Everyone loves an optimist." Harry replied sarcastically.
"I know, but it's strange. People have an absurd tendency to threaten my life."
"Are you going to help me or not?"
"Help you do what?" Seamus asked, puzzeled.
Harry threw his hands in the air and made to stand up. "Never mind! I should have known I'd never get help from you."
"Hey! Get back here and sit down. Ask me to help and then leave. Christ...What do you want help with?"
"Oh I don't know! I just can't talk to Ron and Hermione about it."
Seamus sighed. "My da's family were all Muggles. They made their living fishing. They never had much money, but they got by, but my da always wanted something better. Across the bay, there was a man named Gideon Kelleher. He had the nicest boat you could want." Harry had no idea where Seamus was going with this, but he thought it was better to just let him run off his steam. "All my da ever wanted was a boat like Gideons, but he never had the money. Eventually he married my mam, and fishing was forgot in favour other enterprises. All legitimate of course." Seamus said firmly, eyeing Harry sharply. "But every year, when the big ships set off for the beginning of the season, da would take his mug and go and stand outside, waiting for the boats to go by, and every year he'd come back in and tell my mam, 'Ye know Mary, I'd be happy if I could only have a boat like old Gideon.' Of course mam and I couldn't ken why he'd want a boat, he's a politician, not a fisherman, but finally mam got sick and tired of hearing da whine about his wee trawler and she went to Cork and bought him a boat like old Gideons. Da's used it once, maybe twice, but he's happier than he's ever been in his life."
Harry sat in silence for a while. "So, you mean that maybe I want to leave, for no other reason than to leave?"
"What? No, I never said that. I just thought it was a funny story."
Harry's jaw dropped. "There was no reason for that story then?"
"No."
"Seamus! You are completely mad!"
"You know I get that a lot. It doesn't matter Harry, where you go. You could move to the States, become a Yankee and wear one of those horrible belt buckles, you could move to Canada and freeze your ass of ten months of the year, you could go to Holland and smoke it up legally or you can stay in England and marry a man. Wherever you go, no matter what their laws are, they'll find you and they'll kill you. The luckier you are, the faster you'll die." Seamus smiled brightly. "This Transfiguration homework was quite easy, don't you think?"
Harry looked at Seamus' summer homework, worn, shredded and soaked with ink. "Yeah. Really easy." One more thing to add to his mystery list. Seamus Finnigan.
Harry bit back his tears and turned away. "What are you doing here? Are you alive?" He asked when he turned back.
"No Harry, we are not alive, but we are not dead either."
"Then you can come back?" Harry said hopefully.
"No sweet, but we cannot die either. We will not rest until Voldemort is destroyed." His mother smiled sadly.
"But, if you're here now, I mean, can't you just leave, and we'll be like a real family?" Even as Harry spoke he knew his question was in vain.
"We are jerked from place to place, our souls follow Voldemort. That's why it's dangerous for you to be here. For you to follow us."
"But we had to see you, even just once." His mother reached out to touch his face, but even as her fingers were brushing his cheek, she was disappearing.
"We love you Harry. Be strong." And his father disappeared, his mother seconds later.
Harry turned to the phoenix, tears in his eyes. "Ready to go Pen?"
The phoenix leaned its head on Harry's shoulder and wept with him, but all the phoenix tears in the world could not mend his broken heart.
*~*~*~*~*~
"So what happened to you?" Harry asked, when he finished telling Hermione about what happened in the forest.
"Well Snape took me to Dumbledore's office, and he told me somewhat of what you told me just now. He also said that-Oh Harry, he said I can't go home again."
"What?"
"He said they, he said that I, oh Harry! I can't go home!"
Harry didn't press her for details, only took her in his arms and let her weep. She cried herself to sleep and Harry left her on the chesterfield and went to talk to Snape.
"You should be in bed Potter." Snape said, not looking up.
"Why can't she go home?" Harry asked, ignoring Snape.
"It's not safe to send you home. Any of you. Not Ron, not Hermione and most definitely not you." It was the first time Snape had allowed himself to use anything other than their last names.
"Why?"
"Because they're after you, and consequently Potter, they're after the people who know where you are. It isn't safe."
"So why can't we just not tell them where I am?"
"Sounds like a good idea Potter. In fact, we'll send envoys to the Dark Lord and let him know they have no idea where you are too. Perhaps he'll even believe us. Oh yes Potter, it sounds very good indeed."
Harry took a deep breath to keep himself from throttling Snape. "I just wanted to see if there were any other options for them. They shouldn't be punished just because they're my friends."
"The headmaster has thought about this for a long time, he decided this was the only entirely safe option."
"Screw the headmaster." Harry said under his breath, then in a louder voice, "I suppose he considered what will happen should Voldemort never be destroyed? He can't keep us here forever."
"Trust me Potter, I have done everything possible to give you three your freedom. I want you here even less than you want to be here."
"I've grown quite fond of you too." Harry said, and walked back into the common room.
~*~*~*~*~
Ron arrived first thing the next morning to find Hermione sleeping on the chesterfield and Harry sprawled out on the floor. "Rough night?" He asked, rousing Harry.
"Shut up."
"There are beds upstairs unless I'm mistaken."
"I was really tired. And I was trying to study." As if to prove his point Harry peeled a page from his book off his face.
"Oh yeah," Ron said, lifting the book up. "Postman Pat Goes To Spain" Yeah, looks like you were studying hard."
Harry looked at the book and raised his eyebrows. "Postman Pat's cool. He like has this cat and stuff. And he delivers the post."
"No shit Sherlock. So what happened while I was gone?"
Harry told Ron the whole story, and when he was done they both looked at Hermione. "Should we wake her up?"
"What's the point?" Harry asked. "It's not like we have anything to do today. Or any day. You know, if Voldemort's planning to do anything to us, I wish that he would hurry up and start. But they won't let me go after him, so we have to wait for him to do something."
"Maybe he won't ever start a war." Ron said, voicing everyone's greatest fear. "Maybe he'll just strike randomly forever, and we'll be stuck here until we graduate."
Harry looked at his best friend. "Do you think that will actually happen?"
"There wasn't a war last time." Ron said carefully. "There's always a possibility."
Harry sighed. "But there is a possibility we'll get out of here before then right?"
"You-Know-Who will probably just wait until we graduate to kill you. He's waited fourteen years already."
Harry sighed again. "I'm going to go talk to Seamus."
Ron shrugged. "Seamus?"
"Sure. That way, if someone tortures him for information, no one will care."
Harry got up and walked over to Seamus, who was sitting in a corner, frantically trying to finish his summer homework.
"Hey Finnigan."
"Hello Harry. What's the matter?"
"I'm putting people in danger just by being their friends." Harry said hollowly.
"So what are you going to do about it?" Seamus asked, suddenly turning and attacking the parchment with force, scrawling down a paragraph in twenty seconds.
Harry shrugged. "Leave. I suppose. Just leave one day, and not tell anyone where I'm going or what I'm going to do. I'll just leave."
"Oh yeah, that would be clever Harry, uh huh, really clever. Besides, there's a certain glory in being the hunted," Seamus stopped for a moment, put several large slashes through his paper and turned back to Harry calmly. "What would Weasley do if he didn't have that," Seamus paused with a sophisticated flourish. "Stigma?"
"Well gee Seamus, when you put it THAT way, Ron and Hermione should be grateful that they can never see their families again."
"Exactly."
"You are so full of crap Seamus, it isn't even funny."
"I am NOT full of crap. I am an optimist."
"Everyone loves an optimist." Harry replied sarcastically.
"I know, but it's strange. People have an absurd tendency to threaten my life."
"Are you going to help me or not?"
"Help you do what?" Seamus asked, puzzeled.
Harry threw his hands in the air and made to stand up. "Never mind! I should have known I'd never get help from you."
"Hey! Get back here and sit down. Ask me to help and then leave. Christ...What do you want help with?"
"Oh I don't know! I just can't talk to Ron and Hermione about it."
Seamus sighed. "My da's family were all Muggles. They made their living fishing. They never had much money, but they got by, but my da always wanted something better. Across the bay, there was a man named Gideon Kelleher. He had the nicest boat you could want." Harry had no idea where Seamus was going with this, but he thought it was better to just let him run off his steam. "All my da ever wanted was a boat like Gideons, but he never had the money. Eventually he married my mam, and fishing was forgot in favour other enterprises. All legitimate of course." Seamus said firmly, eyeing Harry sharply. "But every year, when the big ships set off for the beginning of the season, da would take his mug and go and stand outside, waiting for the boats to go by, and every year he'd come back in and tell my mam, 'Ye know Mary, I'd be happy if I could only have a boat like old Gideon.' Of course mam and I couldn't ken why he'd want a boat, he's a politician, not a fisherman, but finally mam got sick and tired of hearing da whine about his wee trawler and she went to Cork and bought him a boat like old Gideons. Da's used it once, maybe twice, but he's happier than he's ever been in his life."
Harry sat in silence for a while. "So, you mean that maybe I want to leave, for no other reason than to leave?"
"What? No, I never said that. I just thought it was a funny story."
Harry's jaw dropped. "There was no reason for that story then?"
"No."
"Seamus! You are completely mad!"
"You know I get that a lot. It doesn't matter Harry, where you go. You could move to the States, become a Yankee and wear one of those horrible belt buckles, you could move to Canada and freeze your ass of ten months of the year, you could go to Holland and smoke it up legally or you can stay in England and marry a man. Wherever you go, no matter what their laws are, they'll find you and they'll kill you. The luckier you are, the faster you'll die." Seamus smiled brightly. "This Transfiguration homework was quite easy, don't you think?"
Harry looked at Seamus' summer homework, worn, shredded and soaked with ink. "Yeah. Really easy." One more thing to add to his mystery list. Seamus Finnigan.