THROUGH A SILVER MIST

WARNING: ORDER OF THE PHOENIX SPOILERS!!!!

CHAPTER TWO- BEYOND THE VEIL

It was late. Very, very late. Harry sat on the couch in the Wealseys' living room, surrounded by several people who'd arrived via Flu and through apparation over the course of the past four hours.

On his left was Ron, who beamed from ear to ear as he sat beside his girlfriend, a very blond witch about their age whose personality reminded Harry drastically of Hermione. To Cecilia's left Ginny was leaning comfortably in a chair, her husband Dean at her side. Across the room on another couch were Fred and George, looking just as mischievous as always but now sporting goatees. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were squeezed next to the twins.

They'd had a pleasant night, Harry had to admit. It had suddenly occurred to Ron, about midway through dinner, that it was Harry's birthday. An impromptu celebration had been arranged shortly thereafter, hence, the gathering in the living area. The twins had been so happy to see Harry again that they gave him a free sample of just about everything in their joke shop as a present.

Harry had enjoyed the many happy reminisces about Hogwarts; the Quidditch team, the ball in fourth year, when Fred and George had made their grand exit in fifth year, to name a few. But the night was growing old, and Harry felt his head pounding.

At the next break in conversation, Harry yawned for effect and said, "Well, it's been fun everyone, but we really should get to bed. Most of you've got work in the morning."

The others looked dejected but knew Harry had a point, so they all slowly began to stand from their seats. Ron whispered with Ginny a few moments as he and Dean helped her up, and she nodded once just before Ron turned to his mother.

"Mum, I think I'll stay around here tonight. I'm going to take tomorrow off and catch up with Harry."

"Of course," Mrs. Weasley said. "And Cecilia, will you be staying?"

"Oh, no thank you Mrs. Weasley," she said politely. "I've got to get to sleep if I want to finish up my paperwork tomorrow."

"Of course, dear, of course," Mrs. Weasley patted her on the arm. "Well, off to bed then."

With a chorus of good-byes and see-you-laters, the Weasleys slowly departed. Ron and Harry climbed the rickety staircase to Ron's old room, which looked just the way he left it. Some things never changed.

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An hour later Ron was snoring peacefully in his bed, a satisfied look on his sleeping face. Harry glanced at his friend as he eased himself slowly off the bunk bed and down the ladder, wishing not to hurt him again but at the same time not baring the thought of causing more damage by waking him as he left.

Harry walked softly over to the window, easing it open gently and looking down the side of the rickety old house to the ground below. There were enough twists and turns in the house that Harry was sure he'd be able to slide almost unharmed to the grass below. It was a crazy idea, but then again, Harry Potter often had such ideas. It'd be a lot easier with his wand, though.

He was easing one foot out the window and onto a ledge when Ron gave a loud snore and sat bolt upright in bed.

"Just where do you think you're off to?" he asked Harry angrily, grabbing his wand off his bedside table and pointing it at Harry. Harry rolled his eyes and pulled his leg back into the room.

"Home, where I can't hurt anyone," Harry said simply. Ron's face was turning red, a sure sign that he was angry.

"And just who gave you permission to decide what's safest for all of us? If we thought you were dangerous we'd have chucked you right back into that flu when you got into this house. In fact, I would never have invited you back!"

"That's because you all don't know better, Ron!" Harry, too, was becoming angry. "I'm no good in the magical world, I cause trouble wherever I go! Ron, I KILLED people!"

"You only fulfilled your prophecy, Harry, and we're all very glad that YOU were the one that survived! I don't think many of us would fancy living under Voldemort's rule right now!"

"But what about Hermione, Ron?" Harry's voice was loud now, shaking with emotion.

"Come OFF IT!" Ron shouted, touchy as always at the subject of Hermione. "IT WASN'T YOUR FAULT SHE DIED, I WAS THERE, I SAW IT! IT WAS HER OWN FAULT FOR BEING SO HEROIC!"

"HEROIC! You see! She was trying to save my arse, I SHOULDN'T HAVE LET HER!"

"YOU COULDN'T HAVE STOPPED HER, IT WAS NOT YOUR FAU-"

An owl swooped suddenly through the open window, knocking over a lamp and startling Ron and Harry into silence. With a very scolding HOOT, it held out it's leg.

Ron was too angry to move towards the owl, so Harry stepped forward frustratedly and yanked the note off of the owl. Hooting at him, it ruffled its feathers indignantly. Harry glared and unfolded the letter, which, he noticed, was addressed to both him and Ron.

Harry read it once, twice, then looking up at Ron with less anger than before, said, "Here."

Ron read:

Dear Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter

I'm glad to see that Harry made it safely to Ron's, and I should hope that he is planning to stay for a while. [Here Ron glared up at Harry, but Harry waved his hand at the letter and Ron continued to read.] In any case, I have a bit of information I'd like to share with the both of you. At your soonest possible convenience, preferably within the next few hours, I should very much like you to pay me a visit.

Thank you,

Dumbledore.

Ron looked at Harry a long while, wondering just exactly what it was that Dumbledore wanted. He'd never received a letter from Dumbledore before, and he was right in assuming Harry hadn't, either. Recently, anyway.

"What do you 'spose this is all about?" Ron asked, waving the note around for effect. Harry shrugged.

"Got me."

Another moment of silence passed as their anger lessened, then Harry asked, "Well, shall we?"

"I don't see why not."

Ron led the way down several flights of stairs to the Weasley's living room, where the fire was now nearly died out. All light that remained in the dark, shadow-filled room was glowing from the embers.

With a flick of his wand, which Ron had carried downstairs with him, flames burst from the smoldering pile of logs, and Ron started towards the fire. He took a fistful of flu powder, and said clearly, "Dumbledore's Office."

He was gone in a whoosh of pale green flame. Harry reached into the pot of flu powder beside the fireplace and imitated Ron.

As he spun and twisted quickly through the flu system, Harry couldn't help but feel nervous at seeing Dumbledore again. True, Dumbledore was a wise wizard if there ever was one, but how had he known Harry'd returned? And what did he want to share with them that called for them to be at his office so early in the morning?

With a thud, he landed in the middle of Dumbledore's huge fireplace. Ron was dusting himself off and approaching Dumbledore's desk, where the wise and very old wizard sat regarding his former pupils.

For a moment Dumbledore simply looked at Harry, letting it sink in that the boy who lived, now the boy who conquered, had returned.

"Welcome back, Harry," Dumbledore said softly. Despite the fact that Harry had previously been in a bad temperament, he grinned at his old headmaster and friend.

"Hello, Professor."

"Well, I'm glad the two of you could put aside your differences and join me this evening," Dumbledore said briskly, leaving Harry and Ron to stare at each other in wonderment. How had Dumbledore known they'd had a row?

"I trust you'll find that it was a good decision, though a bit tiring that the hour is so late. However, I had to catch Harry before he made another mad dash to hide himself in the Muggle world. In any case, you're here now, and I've got a bit of information I'd like to share."

Standing from his desk, he walked over to his shelves and pulled from between two books what seemed to be a very thin, flat mirror. Carrying it back to his desk, he beckoned to Harry and Ron. As they joined the headmaster, he took his wand from the desk and tapped the mirror thrice, saying, "Ministry of Magic, Voile de Deces, Department of Mysteries."

Slowly, as though it were being etched into the mirror by an invisible hand, an image of the deepest room of the Department of Mysteries appeared. Hanging at the back of the room was a torn, shabby-looking curtain that hung limply from the ceiling. Harry's heart leapt, and without thinking, he backed away from the mirror.

"What?" Ron looked curiously at his friend, who'd shut his eyes and turned away.

"That's where he died," Harry said softly, the painful image that he'd relived in so many dreams, now drawn into the mirror's surface, burning a hole in his heart. He couldn't bare to look. "That's where Sirius died."

Ron looked at the picture, which Dumbledore was holding firmly, and then back at Harry.

"I'm sorry, mate," Ron apologized, taking another glance at the picture in the mirror. He'd been hexed that night, and much too giggly to notice when the fight turned ugly, and Sirius had fallen beyond the veil-

"Harry, if you would care to join us again, you may find something I have to say quite comforting for that particular memory," Dumbledore said kindly.

Harry returned slowly and extremely skeptically to the desk, though he was careful to keep his eyes from falling on the image again.

"Though both of you have seen this before, you have not been properly introduced to it's name," Dumbledore began. "It is called 'le Voile de Deces,' French for the veil of death, or death's veil. It is the only known entrance to the afterworld."

He let this sink in a moment. Harry had very reluctantly gazed at the mirror again, now noticing that it was much more detailed than when it had first appeared. The veil hung from an archway now, which looked innocent enough. But Harry knew what fate lay in store for those beyond the veil. He'd seen it happen to his godfather years and years ago.

"A recent invention, developed by ministry wizards, has allowed a way into the veil that would eliminate any chances of dying in the process. They call it an Audela."

Harry glanced at Ron, a thought dawning on him as Dumbledore spoke. He felt sure he knew why Dumbledore had invited them here tonight, and judging by the way Ron's eyes had lit up, he had too.

"The Audela is a charm worn around one's neck, very similar to the Time-Turner that Miss Granger wore during her third year. The wearer will repel death as they enter the veil, though in no way will they be protected from harm once passed the entrance. It is believed to be a dangerous passage, due to the fact that exploration of it has been severely limited and it is not safe to assume otherwise.

To give you a brief summary, just beyond the veil is a sort of whirlwind tunnel of silver light- which, if you look closely enough, you might see is actually a thousand swirling prophecies fulfilled by those who have now passed on. Through the silver mist you will find a rather complex maze of different worlds and the witches or wizards whose spirits have settled in them.

"The Ministry has offered me a chance to give such a device a trial use; I, however, am much too old to take up the offer myself. I was thinking, then, that perhaps the two of you might like the chance."

Harry and Ron regarded each other carefully. It was the exact chance they'd both been waiting for, to finally see again those whom they'd loved long ago. To Ron, it was Hermione and Charlie, who'd died in service to the Order of the Phoenix years ago. Harry's list was longer, more emotional; his parents, his godfather, Hermione, friends from the Order, Cedric, a hundred others. But there was one spirit he did NOT wish to encounter.

"What about Voldemort?" Harry spoke his name as always, and for the first time in his life no one flinched at the name. Since Voldemort had been killed, it no longer seemed necessary to whisper his name, a threat to the peace. Instead it was now said with scorn and relief; relief that he'd gone on.

"As I've already mentioned, the afterworld has yet to be thoroughly explored, and no one is quite sure where Voldemort is, or if he is capable of returning. Although I should mention, in comfort, that no one has yet been brought back successfully."

"What do you mean- successfully? Have they tried?" Ron's thoughts, as they'd always been and always would be, were on Hermione.

"Yes," Dumbledore regarded Ron evenly, calmly, knowing that what he said may very well upset his former student. But Ron had a right to know. "Their spirits were demolished, a chance at an afterlife over."

"So- so where did they go?" Ron looked horrified at the thought. "Some other place?"

"There is no other place besides beyond the veil. They are just - gone."

Ron stared at the old headmaster, not wanting to believe what he'd just heard. He'd thought, for five wonderful, life-changing minutes, that he and Harry could retrieve Hermione from the place of no return. They could go back to being the three of them, just like things used to be. But now, if there was a chance that she could die yet again, this time at the hands of Ron and Harry, the two friends she had trusted most, then it wasn't worth it.

But he'd at least get to see her again. The idea was so pleasing that it over-rode all others.

With a quick glance at Harry to be sure his friend was thinking the same, Ron turned to Dumbledore with a determined look.

"We'll do it."

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A/N: hehe, I'm having fun writing this story! I hope it's being enjoyed, keep reading! I promise it won't be TOO emotional - but don't quote me on that! Anyways, be prepared, here's a list of people I'm considering they may meet: Maggie, Sirius, Lily, James, Heriome, Voldemort, Charlie, Neville, among others. Wanna know who Maggie is? Read the Girl with the Emerald Eyes! Review review review, thanks SO much to those who did!!

Luv, Cassi~