THROUGH A SILVER MIST

CHAPTER 3 - THE KEEPER OF THE CROSSROADS

The last time Harry had seen Nymphadora Tonks she'd been pink-haired and very pale. It came as a surprise, then, when he, Ron, and Dumbledore met a woman with long red hair and freckles at the entrance to the Department of Mysteries as the sun came up that morning. Apparently she still enjoyed toying with her Metamorphmagus powers.

"Harry!" Tonks walked quickly forward and gave Harry a hug, who blushed at Ron over Tonks's shoulder. Ron laughed.

"About time you decided to come back," she said, and Harry could hear the energetic enthusiasm in her voice that had always been there. It was comforting to know she hadn't changed too much.

Harry smiled as she pulled away and turned to Dumbledore, saying, "Well, it's a bit early in the morning to be setting off beyond the veil, but it won't make a difference once you enter. Everything's on it's own time schedule past the veil. We can't figure it out."

Dumbledore smiled serenely and said, "That is all good and well, but I believe you are under the impression that I am going to assist Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley on their journey."

"You-you're not?" A shadow of doubt crossed Tonks's face, but she quickly brightened up and said, "Oh well, Fudge will never notice anyway. These days he's too busy taking vacations to keep an eye on things. He'd probably feel better if someone assisted them, but there really isn't anyone to do it. Of course, I'd love to go with you two," she turned to Harry and Ron. "But I've got paperwork due. I'm supposed to be after this old death eater in Rome, but it seems pointless now that You-kno- er, that Voldemort is gone." As she said the dark lord's name, an expression crossed her face as though she'd swallowed a bug.

"Okay," she said after a second or two, turning business-like and leading them into the Department of Mysteries with a muttered password and flick of her wand. As they stepped into the old circular room, the doorways spun around them in a whirl of shadows, so that they did not know which way was out. Harry's stomach dropped as he observed this; too well did he remember that night that he, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny and Luna had come to save Sirius. He was tempted to run for the way out, but he had no idea which direction it was. Tonks rolled her eyes.

"All this secrecy stuff is so irritating," she said, pulling out her wand. "Department of Afterworld Studies."

Immediately her wand swung around to face the door farthest north, and she grinned satisfactorily.

"This way."

She led them through the heavy wooden door, down a series of steps and finally onto the cold rock floor of a dais. Harry shuddered, stumbling several times as he fought the urge to turn around. He couldn't look at the room without instantly remembering the horrors of his fifth year- he'd fallen down those stairs, he'd seen Neville tortured with an unforgivable curse just over there, he'd almost surrendered his prophecy five feet that way- it was all quite traumatic.

He looked up. There, in front of him, was the archway. The very same one he'd seen Sirius fall behind so many years ago, thinking for sure that his godfather would return, that he could pull back he curtain and see him walking back out-

"Harry." Dumbledore put a hand on Harry's shoulder, and Tonks looked down at the ground. They'd been there too; they knew how Harry had reacted.

Harry continued to stair at the limp, patched veil as Dumbledore said, "With luck, Harry, you shall see him quite soon."

Ron who'd been watching from the background until now, stepped forward and said, "Well then, what are we waiting for? Tonks, have you got those - Owdeela things?"

Tonks laughed and produced a small box from her pocket, saying, "It's 'Oh-Dell-Uh,' Ron, not 'owdeela.'"

Opening the box carefully, she pulled two Audelas out by their thin silver cords. They resembled golden coins, like those that Pirates buried in Muggle stories, Harry thought, with the exception that they were glowing quite brightly.

Tonks held them out as Ron and Harry reached for the warm, glowing coins. As Harry took his and saw it closer up, he noticed that a very difficult-looking spell was etched around the outsides of the golden metal, which was where the glowing was coming from.

"I should warn you," Tonks said, as the boys slipped the silver cords over their heads and around their necks, "that those MUST stay on at all times. Tuck them behind your robes, or something, so that they don't catch on anything. If you were to lose it, you'll die instantly."

Ron and Harry exchanged a nervous glance. Tonks smiled encouragingly at them.

"Don't worry," she said. "Things will go just fine. And um-" she looked up at the door, grateful for the fact that it was so early, and no wizards were bustling about and giving them a hard time. "Be careful. The department isn't exactly aware that you're going through." She straightened up. "And tell Sirius I say hello, won't you?"

"We will," Ron promised, noticing that Harry was looking quite pitiful again. He elbowed him in the side.

"Hey, cheer up, mate," Ron said. "Nothing's going to go wrong."

Harry looked at his friend and responded, "I hope not."

"Ready?" Tonks asked, throwing another glance at the door. It wasn't that they weren't supposed to be in here, it was just that she wasn't entirely sure that Ron and Harry would be permitted to go. Best send them on their way before anyone could come in and question them.

"Ready," Harry said, with a tone of finality in his voice. It was now or never. Ron grinned and said, "Wicked. Let's go."

"Good luck," Tonks said, and she pulled Dumbledore towards the stairs, saying, "Best back away, in case the tunnel's particularly windy today."

Taking a deep breath, Harry through another glance at Ron and determinedly pulled back the curtain. Together, they stepped inside.

All at once their ears were filled with a noise loud beyond belief. It was whispering, shouting, moaning, wailing, grunting, a million voices all swirled together and surrounding them as they stood in what Harry knew from Dumbledore must be the Tunnel of Prophecies.

Harry immediately felt a jolt at his body and found that his feet were not on any particular floor. He was floating, a fizzing feeling running through his veins as though he'd drunken too much pumpkin fizz, and he felt slightly sick from all the noise and moving shadows.

A silver light hung in the air around them, swirling in a not-so- perfect archway and occasionally drifting across the path, like a mist. It was quite frightening and completely exhilarating at the same time. Neither Ron nor Harry knew quite what to do, for they were standing on nothing. There was no floor, yet it seemed that somewhere in the space below them was a walkway that they were drifting over. They couldn't very well float through the tunnel, for neither had any experience at it. So, for lack of anything better, Harry stepped forward.

The fizzing feeling seemed to lessen as he glided softly forward, not quite walking and not quite drifting, as ghosts did. Ron looked startled, but followed Harry as he took another step through the mist.

The millions of voices shouting, whispering, muttering seemed to close in on them, and as Harry walked he noticed that if he tried to pay attention, he could not catch a single syllable that made sense. But if he just sort of let his mind wander, he could make out occasional phrases or words. It was very enchanting, and the boys glided through the tunnel feeling sleepy and at peace. Harry supposed somewhere in the back of his mind that this may help those who'd just had the shock of dying. It was comforting to hear so many voices when he'd thought that death left people so utterly alone.

It took three quarters of an hour for them to cross through the silver mist, for many prophecies had been made over the years and their subjects had passed on long ago. Harry was just thinking that he couldn't go on any farther when the mist began to thin, and they were abruptly deposited, as though they'd been dropped, on a black floor. The odd thing, Harry noticed, was that it wasn't so much of a floor as a big black space that they were hovering over.

Looking around, Harry and Ron were at loss of where to go. By talk of the worlds that had gone on, Harry had imagined a big maze of rooms which held many people, all enjoying themselves in their own space. But instead all that Harry saw was dark, empty space. It wasn't so black as the floor, and it seemed to fade into a lighter color in the far distance.

"Weird," Ron said, looking to the right and left of himself. "What do you suppose we're supposed to do?"

"I'm not sure," Harry said, looking about, for a doorway, or an entrance arch. Anything to show them which way to go.

"More ministry snoops, I see," a voice croaked from behind them. Harry and Ron jumped, turning to face the voice. Next to the end of the silver mist was a little old man that Harry found quite hard to see clearly. His face was blurred a bit as the mist drifted back and forth across him.

"We- we aren't snooping," Ron said, somewhat indignantly. It sounded quite funny as he said it, however, because his voice cracked from nerves. "We're coming to visit an old friend."

The old man regarded them quietly for some time from where he hovered cross-legged, as though searching them to be sure they weren't lying. Both Harry and Ron stood quite still, feeling as though if they moved then they would be deemed evil and sent back through the tunnel.

"Who are you?" he asked them after some time. "Who have you come to see?"

"I'm Harry Potter, and this is Ron Weasley," Harry said, looking at the man evenly. The man's eyes lit up at their names.

"Ah, Potter? Yes, I've heard of you. You caused quite a stir here a few years ago, when you sent the dark lord on to the afterlife. Scared people, you did. Mind you, it was me who had to assure them that Voldemort could not touch them in their worlds. Quite a lot of extra hours that took, and a lot of being away from the tunnel. Don't know how many poor, confused souls I found drifting around here when I got back, must have been near a thousand."

Harry turned quite red and muttered something to the effect of "sorry."

"Excuse me," Ron spoke up, impatient to see Hermione and not liking how this man was taking his time to tell stories. Come to think of it, they had no idea who this guy was. "Do you mind telling us who you are?"

"The Keeper of the Crossroads," the man said. "I direct those who've passed onto their next life. Doesn't really matter what my name is anyhow- people call me whatever they please. God. Allah. Old man." He chuckled.

"Could you tell us how to get to our friends?"

"Depends who you're looking for," the Keeper said. "And if I feel like allowing you to visit them." He gave them another searching look, as though he still didn't trust them.

"We're looking for Hermione Granger," Ron said. "Well, to start with, anyway."

"Ah, Ms. Granger," the Keeper nodded. "I remember everyone person who's ever crossed the Tunnel of Prophecies, and she sticks out quite a bit in my mind. Came in just before Voldemort, didn't she? She was very polite."

There was a moment of awkward silence, then Ron asked, "Well, can we see her then?"

The Keeper laughed quietly again. "I have a feeling you're here to see more than just Hermione Granger. It happened that way with those other ministry personnel who came through."

It seemed like a good sign that the Keeper wasn't referring to them as snoops anymore.

"Well, there are a few other people we'd like to see- if it's not too much trouble," Harry said, crossing his fingers in his robe pocket. The old man grinned. Then, clearing his throat, he stood and walked into the darkness. Unsure of whether or not to follow, Ron and Harry took a few steps after him, then stopped.

"I hope you realize that I won't have you disrupting my people," the Keeper's voice boomed from somewhere up ahead. There was a small creaking noise. "You do and I'll make sure the whole lot of you ministry folk are barred out of here. For good, you got me?"

Harry and Ron nodded, although they still could not see the man. As they stood in the darkness, they heard another creak and a slamming noise, and suddenly there was a shimmering doorway not ten feet off to the left.

"Go through there," the Keeper said, emerging from beside the door. "Visiting only. No trying to transport anything back."

Harry nodded, but Ron didn't seem too willing to comply with this last rule. Before he could make a scene, Harry grabbed his friend by the arm and led him towards the door.

"Thank you-" Harry called to the Keeper, but he was too busy greeting the next batch of souls that'd come through the tunnel. Ron reached for the door handle and turned it. A tingling feeling overtook them as they passed through, and Harry threw a quick glance back over his shoulder.

If he hadn't already had a foot through the door, which seemed to be pulling him in, he would have turned right around and run back to the keeper in shock- for Dumbledore, who had been very much alive not an hour ago when he'd spoken with Harry and Ron, was gliding serenely through the Tunnel of Prophecies.

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A/N: I had to change that a little because I'd originally planned for Hermione to be the last person they met up with, but when I changed it to her being the first person and tried to write chapter four, it did NOT work! So look for Chapter four, which includes a character from The Girl with the Emerald Eyes, Sirius, and maybe a few other old friends!

Luv, Cassi~