SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1A/N's: Thank you so much for all of your kind reviews!! I'm getting really addicted to them, they're so wonderful and we're already up to the 80's. That's so wicked! I love you all so much; thank you, thank you, thank you! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!
Chapter 8: Death and Life
Harry Potter absently blew his fringe from his eyes. He was standing in the large room inside of the Department of Mysteries staring at the soft flowing fabric of the veil that killed Sirius. The air was still, almost stale, and it tasted bitter in his mouth. The veil was swaying faintly as if it were being blown by an unseen breeze. The fabric was moving delicately in such an innocent manner totally contradictory to its greater evil purpose. It was revolting and exhilarating at the same time. It was dark and light all together. It described both death and life. It was both atrocious and beautiful. Gentle ripples were cascading throughout the veil making it look like the calm waves of an ocean out in a vast sea of water—innocent but deadly.
The room was freezing cold and humid but to Harry it felt unbelievably comfortable. It felt like he had fluffy soft blankets wrapped around himself—like he was swimming in soft feathers.
He could hear the faint voices behind the veil; they were luring him to come forward. The voices were expressed in a soft incoherent whisper, but that just made them all the more enchanting. They were calling him—beckoning him forward. He was only mildly aware that he was moving. His head felt like it was filled with cotton; there was nothing to worry about, no pressure, no obligations, only the beautiful voices calling him forward. It was almost like being on the Imperius Curse. He was still moving forward, as if on wings, as if he were floating. He was weightless.
He was almost there—he stretched his fingers to touch the fabric. The fabric flowed between his fingers; his hand was almost engulfed in it. It was so cold, but inviting. Its texture was like that of mercury—like his father's Invisibility Cloak. It engulfed his fingers and hand but it didn't stick. It felt like water but it wasn't wet. The voices were still calling him in a soft whisper, so gentle, so warm, so inviting, beckoning him to take the final step forward. He wanted to—oh, how he wanted to. His mind still felt like it was surrounded by soft clouds, and he was only acting through his unconscious mind. A single final step was all he needed—just one. He lifted his foot off of the ground and...
Someone's voice screamed loudly, "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!"
Harry fell a great distance like you do when you have falling dreams, only he actually did fall. He landed on his mattress with a *thump*. His heart beat violently against his chest, threatening to rip his chest apart. His breath was labored and his lungs ached and stung painfully. He was breathing in air as though for the first time, gulping it down loudly in large amounts. His eyes were big and bright and he looked around himself wildly. Ron stood next to him, no longer screaming but deathly pale. His scream had attracted everyone in the house, and Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, and Hermione rushed into the door to see what the matter was. Ron jumped on Harry's bed and hugged him fiercely very uncharacteristically. Harry was still having trouble breathing and having Ron crush him wasn't helping at all. They both fell back on the bed, and Harry's vision was swimming. He was too weak to protest. He tried to move his arm, but all he managed was to move his fingertips. He tried to speak but his mouth was filled with molasses—no sound escaped his throat. He felt so heavy, like he was being weighed down with lead. The women in the room were looking on worriedly and confused. Ron was almost hysterical, sobbing but with no tears, babbling incoherent things to Harry. Harry couldn't stand the darkness pressing in on him any longer and promptly passed out.
~~~
When his eyes opened, the first thing he noticed was Mrs. Weasley sitting on the edge of the bed wiping his forehead with a cold washcloth, and mumbling soothing words. He noticed a shaken Ron in the background, as well as Hermione and Ginny.
"Wha–" his voice didn't seem to be working so he cleared his throat and tried again, "What happened?"
At this Mrs. Weasley turned around to glare at Ron, but her expression softened upon seeing her son's uncharacteristic distress. "Ron?"
"He hasn't said anything since you've passed out about five minutes ago." Ginny explained to Harry.
Ron breathed in deeply a few times and cleared his throat. "Well I came in here to wake up Harry like you told me, Mum." Ron started looking at his mother. "It looked like he was sleeping..." Ron drifted off. At his mother's encouraging nod, he continued. "He was so white. He looked like a vampire. No—worse. Definitely worse." Ron seemed to be rambling and he was even trembling a little. Mrs. Weasley laid a concerned hand on his arm and he stopped his rant and looked up at her. Her eyes were questioning and Ron swallowed, nodded and went on.
"I called your name," Ron was now looking at Harry while speaking, "and you didn't wake up. I started shaking you, and you were just so...limp. And you still didn't wake up. I thought you were just playing around and I started tickling you so you'd wake up. You didn't even move though. I didn't know what was wrong with you; I know how ticklish you are." He added as an afterthought with a fond smile on his face. A moment later though, the smile was erased and his eyes held a pained expression.
"Then I noticed you weren't even breathing," at this everyone in the room gasped, including Harry. "I thought I must have been mistaken or something, so I felt for a pulse." Ron paused. "Nothing." Ron paused again and it seemed like everyone in the room was holding their breath. "You were just laying there. You weren't moving, you were so white, and limp, and dead. It was so scary." Ron paused again. "Then all of a sudden, you started...floating. Merlin, it was so weird. You just started floating up in the air. You must have been five feet up and I just panicked. I screamed. That's when you all came in here, and you fell down and started breathing again."
Everyone just stayed silent after that for a long time, each wrapped up in their own thoughts. Harry remembered the dream. It was so weird. He'd never had a dream like that before. It felt so real, but at the same time just—not.
Eventually Mrs. Weasley excused herself to fire-call Dumbledore, Ginny went to go with her, and Hermione left mumbling something about looking something up in her books.
Ron looked at Harry uneasily as if expecting him to break at any instant. Harry noticed and rolled his eyes. "Honestly Ron, I'm fine. I'm not made of glass." Ron just laughed nervously at that.
"I'm sorry mate. It was just so scary. I've never imagined what it'd be like if you were dead, and then, boom, you literally freakin' die on me. It just all came crashing down on me, all of the things we've been through together. You're my best friend, I could never lose you." Ron told Harry quietly. After a few moments of silence he added as if to lighten the mood, "If you weren't here, who would help make fun of Hermione with me? I'd join you in a grave next to you just as quickly, the way she'd kill me with her study schedules." Harry laughed feebly at this, but with no trace of humor.
After roughly a half hour of small talk, Ron eventually went to go off to only Merlin knows where, and left Harry alone.
He thought Ron made a horrible attempt at lightening the mood with his little joke before, but he didn't blame him. He had never really imagined what it be like without Ron. Sure, when he ran away, he thought he'd never see him again, but somehow he had a feeling that wasn't true. He just never dwelled on it back then, in fear of changing his mind and endangering his friends. Now though, it felt like an all too real possibility. He still hadn't told any of his friends about the prophecy and he intended to keep it that way. It just didn't seem right to tell them then, and it certainly didn't seem right to tell them now. They'd never let him out of their sight.
What was weird was that he had almost died. Hell, he had died. All of his life, he'd been hidden away from others at the Dursley's and protected with uncountable wards and charms. He didn't even know he'd been protected like that. Protected from the man—if you could call him that—that wanted to kill him since he was a baby. Voldemort tried so hard to kill him in so many different situations. Harry even had to fight him. And then this morning, everything almost ended with a simple dream. It wasn't Voldemort, or even a Death Eater. It was a simple dream—not even a nightmare, just a dream. It was actually quite amusing if he thought about it. Harry snorted. 'Yeah, I'm sure Voldemort would have loved that.' he thought sarcastically.
But still, his life had almost ended. He'd never see any of his friends again—Ron's goofy grin, Hermione's bossy tone and determined will, Hagrid's bone-crushing hugs (those alone will be the death of him one of these days). Hell, he'd even miss Snape's bitter comments. He paused for a moment in thought. 'Nah...I don't think I'd miss those.' Harry thought scrunching up his nose in disgust just thinking about the greasy git.
The point though, was that he'd almost ended everything. The pain, the confusion, the stress, the expectations, everything. Perhaps he would have seen Sirius and his parents again. Maybe he'd be eating with his parents, and later enjoyed a 'guys night out' at a Quidditch game, like his father said in his dream on the bus a while back.
Harry sighed. He had never considered ending his life himself. And he knew he would never consider it in the future. Harry's face hardened. Contrary to Dumledore's beliefs, he had never forgotten his mother's sacrifice. Just wasting it and committing suicide was just unthinkable. He didn't quite understand why people committed suicide in the first place. Why? It just didn't make sense to him. Life can never be so bad that someone would have to rely on such extremes, could it? 'Well life can't exactly get worse than this' Harry thought wryly.
Harry sighed once more and laid back on his fluffy sheets. 'Why does life have to be so complicating?' He knew it was a futile question, and the voices in his head were rolling around the floor in hysterical laughter at the mere thought of it.
His mind was overflowing with thoughts and it just gave him a migraine. A sudden idea struck him and he sat up. Looking around his room he noticed something was missing. He slumped against the headboard of his bed in defeat. He had wanted to use his new Pensieve to get rid of some of the thoughts swimming around his head, but he just remembered his trunk was still at Gringotts. As if reading his mind, a voice yelled from somewhere below, "Kids, get dressed and ready, we're going to Diagon Alley today." Harry just laughed in amusement at the timing while getting off his bed to get ready for the already eventful day.
~*~*~*~
Forty minutes later had Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley leaving the Leaky Cauldron and walking into the colorful lane that was Diagon Alley. Harry breathed in the air deeply and relished the familiar sight before him. Shops of all different sorts adorned the alley on each side, and happy families walked in and out of them laughing as if they had not a care in the world. Sure he'd been to Diagon Alley this summer already, but it was almost totally empty and he'd been trying to keep his head down as to not be recognized. He had never gotten a feel of the familiar alley at that time. Harry had a huge smile plastered on his face, and the Weasley's and Hermione were looking at him concerned due to the joy he displayed over a simple trip to Diagon Alley.
They just didn't understand. This—this felt right. At this instant he could never imagine having been away from the wizarding world. He had no idea why he had run away at this moment. Despite its faults—like Voldemort, its corrupted ministry, Voldemort, the biased community, Voldemort, the gullible people that listened to anything the press printed, oh and of course Voldemort—the wizarding world was still Harry's home. No Dursleys looking at him in disgust, no neighbors looking at Harry as if he were the spawn of the Devil, and no Dudley and company teasing him and beating up little ten year olds. This—this was right.
Aware of the still concerned gazes directed at him from the Hermione and the Weasleys, Harry's happiness faded somewhat. He rolled his eyes, and pushed past them roughly not caring whether he was being rude, and started walking toward Gringotts. Of course, everyone was still worried sick about him, and he'd never seen Ron act like such a mother hen. Ron, of all people. He rolled his eyes again. They nearly didn't let him go to Diagon Alley.
Yes, he was sure he was up for the trip. Yes, he'd eaten all of his breakfast. Yes, he had drunk the Pepper-Up Potion just in case (he'd actually thrown it down the drain, but they didn't have to know that). Yes, he felt perfectly okay. Yes, he brought a jacket since it was supposed to rain today. Yes, he'd pronounce 'Diagon Alley' correctly in the fireplace. Yes, he was definitely sure he was 100 percent well enough to go.
Harry ignored the Weasleys and Hermione who were trying to catch up to him, and walked faster toward the nearest Goblin behind the counter.
~*~*~*~
The ride down to his vault was...unique, as always. He chose to go down alone despite Mrs. Weasley's protest. She'd probably thought he'd fall off the wagon or something. Harry snorted out loud while the Goblin just ignored him.
Harry chose to keep his Muggle money left over from what he now called his 'little vacation' in his trunk just in case. 'Vacation' was definitely not the right term for it but he had named it as such because of the reaction he received from everyone upon his return. When Dumbledore had found him, he thought Harry had just run away for fun. Harry's face hardened at just thinking about that conversation. Most of the Order members glared at Harry upon seeing him. They thought he'd done it just to gain attention, and that they totally wasted their time just looking for him. 'Well I certainly hadn't asked them to come looking for me' Harry thought in a somewhat harsh tone. So since everyone thought he had so much 'fun' running away, it was now appropriately called his summer vacation. 'Hey who wouldn't enjoy a vacation consisting of senile old ladies trying to make conversation, sleeping in hay for a day (and discovering despite its appearance, hay is not the most comfortable substance in the world), getting chased by hit wizards and Death Eaters, getting slobbered on for a few hours by a dog, and having the dog then blow up while it and its master were being just purely kind and waiting for you while you were in the loo, and then to top it all off having an emotional breakdown while screaming profanities at your school headmaster.' Harry thought sarcastically. 'Sure, I can now see all of the fun I had. Probably enough fun to rival Disneyland.'
Harry was currently looking around his vault since he hadn't done that since...well...ever. He had always just stuffed gold in his bag and left as quickly as possible. But now, on closer inspection, Harry realized there was more than just gold in his vault. In the far corner of the huge vault, stood a counter, and upon it, numerous bright and colorful and no doubt expensive jewels. Harry noticed a box a little larger than a Muggle shoe box next to the counter and curiously walked over to it and opened it. The only thing in the box were scrolls of parchment among more and more scrolls of parchment. Harry carefully unrolled the first scroll. The border was beautifully decorated and the top edge read 'England' in a gorgeous script. The parchment read:
11249865
Certificate of Death
Name James Alexander Potter
Sex M
Date of Death Oct 31, 1982
Place of Death Godric's Hollow
Age 23
Birthplace London, England
Residence England
Registration No. 1982 - 16 - 049715
Given under my hand at London, England,
Ursinus A. Denicalis
Director of Vital Statistics
This 15 day of Nov , 19 82
Harry dropped the scroll after reading it, and it flew right back into the box. He felt numb. He couldn't understand why though. He always knew his parents died at Godric's Hollow on October 31, 1982, but seeing it on paper was somehow different than just knowing. He took a deep breath and pulled out another piece of parchment from the box, hoping it wasn't his mother's death certificate. It was decorated in the same patterns as the death certificate, but while the death certificate was decorated in dark colors, this one was decorated in livelier colors. This parchment read:
11035899
Certificate of Birth
Name Harry James Potter
Sex M
Name of Father James Alexander Potter
Birthplace of Father London, England
Maiden Name Lily Marie Evans
of Mother
Birthplace of Mother Cambridge, England
Birth Date July 31, 1981
Birth Place London
Registration Date August 6, 1981
Registration No. 1981 - 16 - 078931
Given under my hand at London, England,
Ursinus A. Denicalis
Director of Vital Statistics
This 6 day of Aug , 19 81
Harry smiled sadly at this. He'd never seen his own birth certificate. It was incredible how a little piece of parchment could bring out so many emotions, and provide so much information. Just by reading the two pieces of parchment, Harry had realized how little he actually knew about his parents. He never even knew their middle names. He hadn't even known his real name, as pathetic as that sounds. Hermione, Ron, and he had placed bets about what his real name was. Hermione insisted it most probably was Harrison, while Ron figured it was probably Harold, and he himself always thought it was just Harry. 'Guess I won', he thought somewhat wryly. Harry was interrupted from his musings by someone clearing their throat nearby. Harry turned around surprised and saw the Goblin that had lead him down here looking rather impatient. Looking down at his watch, Harry noticed he had been in his vault for over twenty minutes. Harry hastily put the birth certificate back inside of the box and closed the lid.
Before he could take a step toward his trunk at the vault entrance, Harry noticed another box with his name on the cover of it. It was standing on the counter next to all of the bright jewels. It was a beautifully carved wooden box that could easily fit into his hand and on it the word 'Harry' was clearly engraved in a neat script. Harry looked back towards the Goblin whose face by now clearly showed undisguised annoyance. Deciding he didn't want to test his luck, Harry grabbed the little box and put it inside his trunk to look at later. Harry dragged his trunk to the cart while the Goblin closed the door to the vault and gave Harry his key back. The cart took off in what Harry thought was faster than usual and Harry had to hold on tight. 'I guess this is payback for taking so long' Harry thought miserably while holding on for dear life. He didn't need to die twice on the same day. 'Poor Ron would have kittens' Harry thought internally laughing.
A/N's: Okay, I hate to stop it here, but it's already average sized and if I go on now, I'd have to include the whole trip to Diagon Alley and it'll be way too long. Plus, I thought it'd be nice to have an update in before Thanksgiving, and if I would have posted the whole chapter, you guys would have to have waited till only God knows when.
Don't forget to review and let me know what you guys liked about this chapter, and what you guys absolutely hated. Any suggestions are welcome! Oh yeah, review responses will be in the next chapter, I promise!
P.S. Oh yeah, I almost forgot! Happy Thanksgiving everyone who lives in the US!! Enjoy your holiday & don't forget to eat lots of turkey and sweets!