Chapter XVIII: The Protectors
"Come in," Dumbledore said as he lurked his eyes above his glasses.
Harry slowly walked up to his desk as his heart pumped more blood than usual. It had been several long weeks since the Halloween Festival occurred. The following day was the first day of Christmas Break. Ever since Harry returned, homework from teachers was little to none. Even in NEWT level courses, tests were much easier. However, questions still tortured Harry's mind. He needed answers and could not wait any longer.
"Professor Dumbledore," said Harry and clutched his left hand in his right. He took a seat in front of the elderly wizard's desk and gulped. "I need help."
"You've come to the right place. What can I do for you?" Dumbledore asked as if he knew Harry would be coming to him soon.
"I need to look into my past. I have to know where I was. If I don't, I'm afraid I will go mad."
"The past cannot harm you. However, if you truly need the answers you seek, I cannot give them to you if I do not have them."
"I know, I thought, maybe," Harry said as his eyes wandered over to a glass object sitting in the corner of the room.
"That will give you a glimpse of what you wish to see. But, you may not want to know," Dumbledore cautioned, knowing that if the truth was painful, it could hurt Harry more than any physical scar ever could.
Harry nodded and walked over to the glass object. He stared into it and placed his hands on the round edges. Concentrating hard, he tried to remember his battle with Salazar as clearly as possible.
Darkness fell over his eyes, and Harry's body felt numb and boneless. Dumbledore's office swirled away and was gone. Where was he? This was not the Forbidden Forest nor was the place barren like his mind.
A staircase of white spiraled toward a sunlit sky and clouds of fluff engulfed Harry's feet. Far off in the distance there was a castle much like Hogwarts… It was Hogwarts, but much more lighter. The bricks were pale, and there were no trees anywhere.
Harry turned his head to see a young man lying motionless on top of the white surface. At a closer glimpse, it was himself! What was this world he was in? Who was that? Harry looked over to the far left to spot a man with dark hair and a dark robe to match… He leaned over the body of the other Harry and wept.
"Oh, no… It can't be… Sirius?" Harry asked, but it seemed that in this reality, he could not be heard, only could watch.
"This isn't your time," Sirius said in a shaken voice. "I won't let you leave now. You're too young," Sirius mumbled as he hugged the lifeless body.
Harry stepped back to witness two other figures approach. It was a beautiful woman with brown looking hair and a handsome man in glasses whom he knew he had seen before… No, it couldn't be…
"He's not ready to join us," the woman said.
"No, this isn't right at all. Should we awaken him?"
Sirius shook his head. "He can't see us. If he remembered this at all, it could damage his mind more than we know. He shall remain with us until we can send him back."
"That could take forever! We don't know the condition of his physical body. He could be chopped—" the man paused and choked on his own saliva.
"We'll do everything we can to bring him back to his reality," the woman said calmly and kissed the other Harry's head. "My baby needs to live his life as he was meant to."
Harry watched, baffled and felt as if his body were being pulled away. Everything was becoming distant and faded. No, I don't want to leave, Harry thought to himself. I want to see them again! No!
"Welcome back, Harry," Dumbledore said. The old wizard stood over Harry's body. He was still in Dumbledore's office, his body trembling.
"I, I… I was—"
"It seems you have gotten the answers you needed."
"Yes," Harry responded and sighed.
For a few seconds he saw them, all together and protecting him once again. His mother, his father and his godfather were all there waiting for him. Perhaps it was the afterlife, or maybe it was something else. Harry never would know this answer until it was truly his time.
After the Christmas break, Harry found himself lying on his bed, staring up the grand ceiling. Ron walked in and sat beside him, wearing an ugly maroon sweater with his name stitched into it with gold lettering. He patted Harry on the back and then rubbed it slightly.
"Don't ever do that again, disappearing like that," said Ron.
"I wish I could see them," Harry said as he blocked out Ron's voice.
"See who?"
Harry never told anyone that he saw Sirius and his parents, not even Ron or Hermione. It was something very deep and very mysterious that even if he thought he could tell someone, he wouldn't. Some things were best left in silence and in secret.
For the following month, Harry barely spoke to anyone. He got the usual stares and glares in the corridors as he passed from class to class. Sometimes, he would get a comment here or there but it was nothing that Harry couldn't handle. In fact, Harry welcomed being talked to; it made him feel alive again.
Part of Harry could not remember the horrible things he did. It was like a dream you had; you wake up in the morning and can remember clearly at first, but as the day goes on, it becomes faded and distant. Only parts of the dream he could remember, but nothing fit together or made sense.
The one thing Harry did remember was Fly and his body falling into the luscious grass below. He could remember the screams of Elise Wings as she ran onto the field and hugged his broken body. And he could remember how everyone stared at him as if he were a murderer. In some wicked, strange way he was. It was his broomstick and his curiosity when taking the locket that killed Fly. Murder is something you cannot forget.
It wasn't until finals were approaching until Harry finally mentioned to Hermione about where he was. Of course, he didn't explain much or even have to say anything profound. All he told her during lunch one afternoon under the weeping trees was,
"Some things are meant to be. I know I was protected, and it was not my time. I don't know what I'm supposed to do now, but I can't sit around pretending I didn't have control of my actions. I did. I can't change that, but I can change my future."
Hermione didn't exactly understand Harry's words, but she did not one thing was true. Harry was meant for great things, and it was not his time yet. She knew because she loved him.
THE END