"Where are you taking me?" asked Harry.
Yehudiah stopped and turned his beautiful eyes on Harry. "A place where only very few can go," he said. "A place where Fate itself roams."
"Fate itself..." repeated Harry. "What will I have to do there?"
"You will see," said Yehudiah. "Do not speak unless it asks you something. You can never predict how such a meeting will be like. But dinna fash yourself; ye ken, wee Fate's bin a bit moody lately," he added in such a perfect Scots accent that Harry stopped dead, startled. Yehudiah smiled, and Harry could have sworn that his deep, warm eyes were sparkling. "Don't think that angels have no sense of humor," he said.
"Uh-huh." Harry just couldn't think of a more intelligent answer.
Now again serious, Yehudiah said, "Don't be afraid. It cannot hurt you, and it never would. It cannot break its own rules. Fate is not cruel, Harry, it's neither good nor evil. It's way beyond such categories. Man's knowledge is too limited to really understand the nature of Fate. Its decisions may sometimes seem cruel, but they can be coped with. Only in cases such as yours does it condescend to make itself perceptible for men."
"What... what does it look like?" asked Harry.
"Fate has no shape or body," said Yehudiah calmly. "And yet it can take every form it wants. I do not know how you will perceive it. It could look like the person you have lost. It could look like your worst enemy. It could take the form of an animal or a plant. It could be the puddle on the floor, the moss on the walls or the heat in the air. It could be the knowledge inside your head or the feeling in your heart. Either way, you'll know it when you meet it."
"Is it... scary?" Harry hadn't meant to ask that, but once the words were out, he could not take them back.
"It is furious," said Yehudiah. "Furious at this woman who killed, regardless of what it had planned. And it might indeed be scary in its fury. But you must never forget that it will not hurt you."
Harry did not feel calmed. On the contrary; if it was at all possible, he felt even less calm than before. Maybe Yehudiah shouldn't have told him about Fate's fury... Harry could instantly imagine a hundred things he would rather do than face an angry force he might not even be able to look at.
Harry tried to shake the thoughts off and caught up with Yehudiah, who had been several feet ahead of him. They walked in silence for a while, past a group of trees that were unbelievably green and healthy, then they turned right and reached the beach, where they continued walking. On their right side was the sea, on their left side were cliffs. The sea was of this extremely clear blue that Harry only knew from Petunia's books about the Caribbean. He wondered how this could be, for they must be way up North. And from what he knew, the Caribbean was somewhere else. But then he remembered that this was not a normal island. It probably did not necessarily have to look like any island in the North.
Yehudiah slowed down his pace. "It is not far from here," he said. "You can already see it."
Harry looked in the direction Yehudiah indicated and saw nothing. Everything that was further than thirty feet away disappeared behind the haze that lay over the coastline.
"That is what you are supposed to see," said Yehudiah, slightly amused. "No one can find the entrance to Fate's lair, unless accompanied by me. If you were here on your own, you could stand right before it and still see nothing but the outlines of the cliff through the haze."
"Sure," said Harry, who felt very nervous. "Fate doesn't like to be disturbed, does it?"
"Not without a good reason," corrected Yehudiah. "Fate despises people who try to challenge it because they feel they have been treated unfair. Fairness does not exist for Fate. Only its decisions do. And they are neither fair nor unfair."
"But rightful," said Harry.
Yehudiah smiled. "You begin to understand," he said. "And now take my hand. We are going to pass the threshold."
Harry obeyed. Yehudiah's grip was firm but tender. Without breaking his stride, he went forward with Harry stumbling along at his side. The veil of haze drew closer, but as they approached, it suddenly faded. They went through, and Harry stopped dead. They had been on the beach, but now they were suddenly standing on top of the cliff. When Harry turned around, he saw that the haze was back. He could not see the other side, but when he thought it over, maybe there was no other side. The cliff was incredibly high. Harry did not dare look over the edge. He was already nervous enough, and a touch of vertigo would certainly not make him feel better. He turned around again and now saw the entrance to a cave.
"This way?" He asked.
Yehudiah nodded.
"Do I... are you..." The words got stuck in Harry's throat, but Yehudiah guessed what he was about to ask.
"I am not coming with you," he said. "I will be waiting for you right here. Be confident, Harry. It will not hurt you."
Harry nodded. Then he took a deep breath, turned around and entered the cave.
xxx
The first thing he noticed was the smell in the air, or better: the absence of any smell. Harry panicked for a moment because it felt like there was no air at all. He took another deep breath, and although his lungs signaled that everything was alright, he breathed faster to make sure he really wasn't going to suffocate.
Behind the entrance was a short corridor that led to the cave. When Harry emerged from the corridor, he stopped dead in surprise. The cave seemed to be the size of a cathedral. The ceiling was so high it was barely perceptible. There was a flickering light that seemed to come from nowhere but illuminated the whole cave in a light that Harry could not describe. He couldn't even say if it was warm or cold, dim or bright, soft or blinding. It was beyond anything he had ever seen.
Harry took a few hesitating steps and stopped again. What was he supposed to do now?
Suddenly there was a noise. It came from the ceiling, and Harry winced. His heart thudded against his ribs. Tiny stones came rolling down.
"Hello?" whispered Harry. "Er... I'm Harry Potter."
A loud caw! startled him. He jumped again and looked around. A large crow, black as soot, came fluttering down and perched on a boulder that sat right in the middle of the cave. It looked at Harry with its shiny yellow eyes and cawed again.
Harry approached. He was about to open his mouth when he remembered Yehudiah's warning not to speak unless he was asked. But how did he know that this crow was really the shape Fate had decided to take and not some completely normal bird that was nesting here?
Harry took a breath and wanted to say something, but the words got stuck in his throat. All of a sudden, he felt the presence of something ancient, neither good nor evil, that watched him. Furious. Harry did not know if he was the reason for its fury or something else, but he felt uneasy altogether. The air felt as if charged with electricity, and he half expected lightnings to flash or his hair to stand up on end or something. If this wasn't a room but the sea, he thought, there would probably be the most terrible hurricane ever, raging and howling, with ninety-foot waves.
Harry felt a strong urge to crouch down, hide his face behind his hands and remain as inconspicuous as possible. But he couldn't do that... he had come so far... he had to think of Sirius, hold on to the thought of bringing him back. He had not endured the long journey just to find that he was too much of a coward to end what he'd begun. So he remained where he was, standing straight, eyes fixed on the crow.
The bird cawed again, and this time Harry thought that he could hear words in the sounds. It was not that the bird spoke; the words seemed to emerge from the sound that lingered in the air after the bird had uttered it.
"Who are you to disturb me?"
Harry swallowed. "Er... my name is Harry Potter. I was brought here by Yehudiah, the Angel of Grief."
"Are you here to set things right?"
Harry squirmed. "Uhm... maybe... what are you talking about, exactly?"
The crow fluttered wildly, and suddenly it was no longer a crow. Where it had been sat now a gigantic eagle that spread its wings and folded them again. The sharp, crooked beak opened.
"I am talking about the major offense I have suffered. About how my plans were disturbed. About this woman who had the galls to kill the man who should have lived."
Sirius! "I am here to speak for this man," said Harry. Suddenly he felt more confident. "Yes, I am here to set things right."
"Who are you to plead for this man?"
"He was my godfather," said Harry very quietly. "But to me, he was a father, a brother and a friend."
"It was not his fate to die now."
Harry's heart beat very fast. He felt that the next minutes would decide over Sirius's return.
"So I can bring him back?" He asked eagerly, forgetting that Fate had not asked him a question.
The eagle fluttered. "Stupid little boy! You can't do anything about it. If you saw what lies beyond the veil, you would lose your mind. Your poor little head could even burst like a bubble. You do not have any power in this. It takes more than a wizard to resurrect the dead. But that is the problem with men - they think they know everything, can do everything, can interfere with me as they wish!"
Harry backed away. "I'm sorry... Please calm down... er... I mean... hold your wrath."
The eagle turned its cruel eyes directly on him. "Who are you to tell me what to do? I could crush you to pieces!"
"Forgive me," said Harry in humility. "I do not mean to offend you. I just want to know what I must do to set things right. Or was pleading for Sirius all I could do?"
The eagle now remained completely still, and to Harry it seemed that the rage in his eyes slowly vanished.
When he heard the words again, the tone had changed as well.
"I see true grief in your heart. I see the weight your soul has to bear. What has caused my fury has caused your pain. We are on the same side."
Harry remained silent, but hope was filling him from top to bottom.
"I want my fury to end. The matter needs to be settled. This man must not remain beyond the veil." The eagle took a few steps to the edge of the boulder. "Now listen, little man. You have done right in coming to me and pleading for this man. It was not his fate to die in the fight that night. His fate is to stay by your side and be you a father, a brother and a friend. He shall be your companion through the dark and dangerous times that lie ahead. Go now with the angel. He will do what is necessary. The one you have lost will return to you."
Harry's throat was so narrow that he could barely whisper. "I thank you."
The eagle rocked back its head, spread its wings and took off towards the shadows that lay under the ceiling. Harry did not wait for it to vanish out of sight. He turned on his heel and ran through the corridor back to the entrance.
Yehudiah was still sitting where Harry had left him.
"It worked!" Harry ran over to him, and only in the very last second could he restrain himself from simply hugging the angel as he would have hugged Sirius or Remus after such an encounter. Yehudiah smiled mildly. "I knew it would," he said.
"It said that you would do what is necessary..."
"That's true." Yehudiah stood up and turned to the sea. "Come here, Harry. We will do it now. Take my hand. We cannot do it from here."
Harry stepped at the angel's side and took his hand.
