Impossibilities
Chapter 2 - Of Shades and Shoes
"Death, be not proud, though some have called thee,
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me...
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell;
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well,
And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?
Once short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die."
~John Donne
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS OR THE MAJORITY OF THE SITUATIONS PRESENTED TO THEM! THEY ARE PROPERTY OF J. K. ROWLING, WARNER BROTHERS AND A BUNCH OF OTHER IMPORTANT PEOPLE. I MAKE NO MONEY (READ THAT: NO! NONE! ZIP! ZILCH! ZERO! NEGATIVE! NOT ANY!) FROM WRITING OR POSTING ANY OF THIS. I TAKE NO CREDIT FOR IT, I DON'T OWN IT! *stamps foot like a 3-year-old*
A/N: When is JKR gonna put out the 5th book, cuz honestly this is getting ridiculous. over 2 YEARS! sheesh. *more 3-year-old behavior* anywho: here goes nothing.
"You know you're obsessed when you have to read fanfiction for your Harry Potter fix." ~Kat Herspera
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James Andrew Potter sat dejectedly on a street curb, his chin in his hands, staring at the ground. Every time a car whizzed by dust and loose pebbles from the old road sprayed up in his face, but he didn't care. Dust and pebbles passed right through him, everything did.
Being a shade really wasn't fun.
No one could see him, no one could feel him, and no one could hear him. In fact he couldn't even properly sit on a curb: he floated just above it really...
At least before there had been other shades to keep him company, but now he didn't know where they were. Or where he was for that matter.
Everything seemed to have happened at once.
He vaguely remembered going into deep meditation several years back. Thinking was useless when you're trapped inside a wand. There was nothing to think about, nothing to do; conversation was pointless.
He and Lily had tried the first few years to keep themselves sane by telling stories, riddles, jokes, or anything that came to mind. (Thank Heavens he'd had Lily.) They'd spent weeks trying to figure out why Harry had never joined them, something that had never made sense. James had hoped against hope that Harry had survived, but deep down he knew that was impossible.
But even with these things to speak of, they'd eventually given up, letting go, just silently existing.
Now Lily was gone, gone with everyone else.
James silently scolded himself. He was NOT going to think about Lily, he'd thought about her nonstop for weeks and nothing had come of it but a broken heart and a fading hope.
Think of something else to think about, quick man! James yelled at his brain. Not Lily, anything but Lily. He thought desperately. Reluctantly his thoughts moved themselves back to the past:
It had been a long, long, long stretch of nothingness after James and Lily's deaths.
Several months back, maybe even a year ago (Being a shade made tracking time hard), a new witch had joined their midst inside that wand. He hadn't recognized her, she seemed disoriented, couldn't even remember her own name. They'd given up asking questions fairly quickly. The fact the wand was gathering more victims was a bad enough news in itself.
Then all too soon, another had come; a muggle, an old man by the name of Frank Bryce. He'd seemed nice enough, but once again information was hard to obtain from him. Being killed by something you hadn't believed existed since you were a toddler was enough to confuse many a bright fellows.
Another stretch of nothingness had instated until about two months ago: a young wizard had arrived. He'd been terrified, and was confusingly trying to explain himself when something had happened.
The fact in itself that something happened is amazing, and should not be taken lightly. Nothing ever happened in the land inside that wand... nothing except the addition of new shades, and that hardly counts.
Yet, against all odds, something HAD happened, something extraordinary.
First the whole area had been filled with a bright golden light, and glorious sound had echoed through out the sudden silence.
"Phoenix song," Lily had whispered, and of course Lily would know.
And then... then a sharp pull. A tug so hard it would have hurt had James not been so mystified. One at a time; the scared boy first, followed by Frank, then the confused young girl, then James himself, and Lily, they had each risen up to a large `O' in the sky-ish thing above them.
As they looked up a great golden tidal wave had come rushing towards them. Just before it looked like it would hit it dispersed into a fine mist. They'd each breathed in the mist and the outside situation had miraculously become known to them.
Harry Potter, James and Lily's son, was fighting Lord Voldemort....Priori Incantatem... the Third Task...it all smashed itself into their minds.
Then even weirder than ever, they were lifted higher, and rather forcibly pushed through the closing `O' one after the other...
The `O' had sealed itself shut behind Lily, leaving them standing near Harry, confusion thick upon the air.
They'd helped Harry; they'd helped him win! But after that things got fuzzy again. James had felt himself drift away... away from Lily...away from the frightened boy... away from Harry...away from everyone. Everything had faded into darkness.
The last thing he remembered was a sharp pain in his chest, like a bolt of lightning, then nothing.
He'd woken up with no idea of where he was. So he'd gotten up and started walking, well drifting really, kind of a floaty bouncing. Almost better than flying...
Anyway, two months later, James Andrew Potter was at a loss. No one could see him, no one could feel him, and no one could hear him. What was a shade to do?
James knew shades could possess other bodies, but he didn't really like that idea. He just wanted his Lily back, his life back, and Harry, what had happened to Harry? He just couldn't remember anything correctly. He'd learned about shades at Hogwarts... but never in relation to Avada Kadavra... what was going on?
For two months he had wandered and floated and drifted and moped. Finally he had come to the brilliant conclusion that being a shade was boring. Very, very boring.
With an inaudible sigh, James lifted his chin from his hands. He subconsciously ran his hand through his messy black hair, and pushed his glasses up his nose. Looking around randomly he happened to glance at a sign across the street.
THE SILMONT PRIVATE CEMETERY
Oh that's excitement for you, he thought sarcastically. Most people walking on the opposite side of the road didn't even glance at it. Their eyes slid across the space it occupied without a flicker of recognition. A shabby looking man probably in his mid 30's stopped by the sign, resting one hand on the gate it hung from. A bunch of flowers hung loosely in his other.
Curiously James drifted over, not even noticing as a car zoomed through his insubstancable body.
He followed the man into the cemetery trying to get another glimpse of his face. It had looked familiar... he was sure it had.
The man stopped to read a small plaque just within the gate and James followed suit.
In Silmont's Cemetery* the poppies grow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the spells* below.
We are the Dead, short days ago
We lived felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Silmont's Cemetery*
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Silmont's Cemetery
The man continued to walk into the heart of cemetery then paused in front of a tomb. James quickly glided around to the front of him so he could see his face properly. The man was graying, his eyes had both laughter and worry lines, his face was distant and sad...James knew that face, perhaps not all of the lines it held, but he knew it. If only he could place it...
Then it clicked.
Remus.
Duh.
Of course, his old friend, Remus Lupin. But why was Remus here, and why was he already going gray? His clothes seemed so shabby and...
James stopped his train of thought suddenly. He'd turned around while he'd been thinking and now before him stood the tombstone. The names upon it made his heart stop (well actually, in all technicality he can't have a heart, let alone have it stop, cause he's already dead or a shade or whatever... but you get the idea). He forgot Remus. He forgot everything. He just stared.
James Andrew Potter and Lily Marie Potter
Loving parents of Harry James Potter
They died the deaths of heroes
May their names be remembered always
The inscription continued... the dates of birth and death, a short sentimental poem reflecting the sorrow of their loss. James didn't move, he couldn't even think.
He'd known he was dead, he known that for years. Yet the concept of a gravesite with his name on it still seemed totally foreign.
This is way too strange... James thought distantly.
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~Earlier that day~
"Sirius!"
Remus Lupin stood at the bottom of the stairs waiting for his friend to respond. All he got was a loud thud followed by a string of curses.
"Sirius, what are you doing now?" A smile played on the edges of Remus' lips. Things had been decidedly less dull since Sirius had come to stay at Remus' a few months ago. "I've told you if you break anything, I WILL hex you!"
The response he got this time, sounded almost nervous, "Er... oh you know, just expanding my vocabulary with a few words I've.. uh... picked up... umm..."
Remus tapped his foot impatiently, "A likely tale, but I'm in bit of a rush, so can you please come down?"
"Oh yea, sure thing, right away," Sirius Black came bounding down the stairs stopped in front of Remus and bowed with exaggerated elegance, "How may I help you, your Moony-ness sir?" He straitened up grinning.
Remus eyed him suspiciously, "Might I ask why you are only wearing one shoe?"
Sirius glanced at his feet and shrugged. Waving his hand dismissively he said, "Oh come now Remus, you said you were in a rush. Where are you off to?"
"I'm going over to have a little chat with Mundungus Fletcher," Remus replied deciding to deal with Sirius' odd habits later.
Sirius looked at him curiously, "Why don't you just owl him, like you did Arabella and Doris and Rowan and the rest? Nope, wait a tick... he's scared of owls isn't he? After that whole incident." Sirius grinned wickedly.
"Padfoot, you know what you did was very naughty," but Remus was smiling despite himself.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm SO sorry. But you could just call him in the fire." Sirius responded, not looking the least bit remorseful.
"No, no, I've been wanting to visit that part of the world for a while now anyway. It's been too long..." Remus sighed looking sad.
"Oh. I see," Sirius replied quietly, his eyes acquiring a haunted look. He quickly jerked himself back to reality and asked, "When will you be back?"
Remus grinned and answered, "Oh not too late I expect, don't wait up." Sirius laughed. Then Remus put on a mock serious expression, "Now you behave yourself young man, no mischief." He winked then pulled out his wand to disapparate.
Sirius grinned and winked back watching Remus disappear with a `pop.' Only after Remus was gone did he let the grin slowly fade off his face. He turned and trudged upstairs gloomily. He entered the room he'd been staying in ever since he decided to hide out at Remus'.
Sitting on the bed against one wall he glowered at the one opposite. A fairly good size hole now added to the decor. A small pile of powdery plaster lay crumbled on the ground below it. Still partially protruding was a wayward shoe accidentally shot from Sirius' foot...
What am I going to tell Remus, Sirius groaned. Behave yourself. Huh, you'd think I'd of grown up by now... no such luck.
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Remus appeared in an otherwise empty alleyway. He started to pocket his wand then laughed as his own mistake.
Are we trying to make ALL the muggles look at us, old boy? He admonished himself.
Quickly he transfigured his shabby robes into a pair of old slacks and a dark blue collared shirt. He then really did put his wand in one of his deep pockets. He proceeded out into the streets.
He stayed at Mundungus' long enough for a nice cup of tea and to discuss some current issues dealing with Dumbledore, Voldemort, Cornelius Fudge, and the `old crowds' latest plans.
It was nice to see Mundungus after so long. Ever since Gus became an Auror he hadn't been able to visit much.
Remus was happily whistling as he left, but he immediately ceased when he remembered the other reason he had come. Stopping at a corner florist, Remus bought a bunch of flowers with some spare muggle money he liked to keep with him for `just in case' moments.
He then walked dejectedly to the cemetery he usually avoided.
He stood before the grave of two of his best friends and gently laid the flowers on the ground. Slowly he traced a finger over the letter J at the beginning of his friend's name, thinking of times long past. Then he paused.
As a werewolf he was privileged to a type of sixth sense. Right now he could have sworn someone was staring right at him. He looked around wildly, but he couldn't see a thing.
There's nothing there, old boy. Calm down... Remus slowly released the breath he had subconsciously been holding. He could not, however, release the feeling that something was amiss.
Remus closed his eyes and tried to reason with himself. He was probably just jumpy because he was in a cemetery. It was logical; the dead often make people nervous. But Remus knew it was something else. Something, but what.
Completely depressed by memories of times past, and heart thumping furiously over something unknown, Remus turned to exit the cemetery half-thinking he stop at a pub for a drink to settle his nerves. Something he rarely did.
Preoccupied as he was, Remus did not hear the faint gasp come from somewhere beside him. Nor did he notice a thin crack running vertically on one side of his old friends' tomb.
No, Remus did not notice for he was in a bit of hurry to leave that cemetery hoping to leave memories behind as well.
He methodically cast a charm on to make the flowers last longer. Then he left, leaving the gate swinging behind him.
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~Back to where/when we left James~
Totally oblivious to the fact that one of his best friends was a whole 3 feet away from him, James stared at his tombstone again. Shock claimed his whole being.
He did not notice Remus' strange antics and wildly darting eyes. His attention was completely concentrated on a irresistible tugging coming from his chest, pulling him towards his tomb. The tugging began gradually, growing to be almost unbearable.
He was pulled unrelentingly towards the engraving before him. Then suddenly he was within the tomb wall itself. Briefly he marveled at the concept of being inside a wall, and then he was all the way in.
James immediate reaction was to shut his eyes. It was completely dark within the tomb, but he knew what was there. He did not want to see his dead body. Or that of Lily's.
His imagination had a field day even as the pulling continued. He could picture the two corpses: side by side, flesh rotted away. His Lily's beauty would be no more.
If he'd been able to, James was sure he would have thrown up. To take his mind away from thoughts of what their bodies must have become, James concentrated on exactly where the pulling was taking him.
It was like being led by a string tied around his heart. He felt himself be dragged down into a sleeping position. He tried to resist, but he had no control.
His mind was racing and confusion consumed him when something hit him hard, slamming against his body like a speeding train.
James sat up violently and gasped for air.
Ouch... he thought weakly. He lifted his arms gingerly to rub his aching head. He stopped mid-movement amazed.
He could move his arms again, and his hands, and fingers, and... wait a minute something wasn't right.
His head hurt and his chest hurt, but shades can't feel physical pain.
He was sitting on something hard. Something cold. Something solid. His hand couldn't pass through it, but shades have no substance.
He could hear his breathing, ragged and uneven. But shades cannot breath, or make any audible sound. They could converse with one another to a certain extent telepathically, but aloud? No.
So it's decided, something was wrong.
James immediately knew what it was, what it must be. Yet, it was impossible. It couldn't be true.
He was no longer a shade.
He was- alive?
Unfortunately tombs aren't designed for living residents. The oxygen, already old and stale, was quickly disappearing. James felt around frantically for a way out. His head was throbbing now, his muscles ached.
Well of course they're sore, they haven't been used in a while, have they? James thought wryly.
He was becoming more and more panicked. He felt around desperately for a way out and his hand brushed against something cold and stiff.
Lily!
Now James really panicked. He wanted out, and now! This wasn't his Lily. It couldn't be. Lily was laughter and sunshine. Rippling red hair, and dancing green eyes. Not something dead and gone.
Let me out! Please somebody, let me out! James begged silently. He backed himself up as far as he could against the wall. The palms of his hands pressed into the unrelenting stone. He pushed against it with all his strength, all his power, all his will and conscience. Let me OUT!
His muscles were screaming when something began to give. It was ever so slight that James almost didn't let himself believe it. He continued to push with everything he had: physically and mentally.
And then, then with a sound like the finale to a fireworks show the wall burst into pieces. Two big slabs crashed to the ground, causing James to fall backwards with them.
He hit the ground with a thud, the wind completely knocked out of him. Yet the pain seemed beautiful, he could feel! He was alive!
James lay on the ground trying to breathe normally. Well then, James-y boy, what now? He asked himself haphazardly.
Perhaps its time to stand up. James flipped over onto his stomach and tried to drag himself to his hands and knees. The again maybe I'll just lay here for a bit, James laughed to himself as his exhausted arms gave out and he was once again lying on the ground, getting up is probably over-rated anyway.
James didn't know what he had done inside that tomb, but he was sure that whatever it was, coupled with being dead, could probably explain why he was so spent.
Eventually however, James forced himself to stand up. Without thinking he reached up to his front pocket to pull out his glasses. It was where he had always kept them during the rare moments they weren't one his face or he wasn't sleeping.
It wasn't until he had pulled them out and slipped them on that it occurred to him just how odd it was that they were even there. Someone must know me too well, he thought wryly. Then he sobered; for someone to have put them in his pocket they would have had to be there when he was buried. He did not like thinking about his friends being at his funeral.
At the thought of friends, something occurred to James: Remus. He had seen him, here, at this cemetery.
James eyes wandered over the whole cemetery, looking everywhere but at the tomb he had come from. He did not want to see Lily's body. He wanted only to think of her as alive and laughing.
If James had willed himself to glance that way he would have been surprised. Lily looked the same as she had 15 years ago on that fateful Halloween night. Her body appeared untouched by time.
Yes, he would have been very perplexed indeed. But James did not want to look, instead he satisfied himself with searching the area for Remus. Having established the fact Remus was not there, James felt rather flustered.
One rarely (if ever) finds oneself in this particular position. For, honestly, what should one do when one has been dead for several years, woken up unexplainably, and has no idea what has occurred in the time they were gone.
So... James thought yet but again, now what?
He felt dazed and rather unsteady on his feet but he made for the cemetery entrance anyway, half hoping that Remus might still be around in the streets outside the gate.
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A/N: Well...well... didja like it, didja didja? I really hope you did. I made it longer than the others... do you think this length is better? It was originally two chapters, but I meshed the together. Tell me if it was better, worse, or roughly the same as the other. Tell me if anything doesn't work too... you know... technicalities dealing with the H.P. books that conflict greatly with my story and I'll try to fix them in a later chapter. Also PUH-LEASE forgive all spelling and grammar errors as I'm sure there are lots... even with spell check I'm hopeless. If anything is SO bad you can't read it, tell me, otherwise kindly pretend you didn't notice and I'll be much obliged. Oh and do review. You've no idea how much I LOVE reviews...
YES! Rowan strikes again... (lol don't mind me.)
I made up the Potter's middle names, so if you've heard they're something else don't kill me. I just thought Andrew fit, and Marie is about the most used middle name I have ever come across. (Elizabeth is the second) I thought if fit nicely inbetween Lily and Evans... so it was logical that it might have been her middle name... ok now i'm rambling
One more thing... the basic idea of this story is in my head but I've by no means planned it very extensively so if you would like anything in particular to happen just tell me, and I'll try to work them in.
Oh, and if your worried, don't be, I will be going back to Harry's life in short while... we have to find out about that watcher don't we, and those presents, and the Weasley's, and WOW I left a lot of loose ends didn't I?
What an incredibly long author's note...