Chapter 13
Harry sat by the lake watching the slight breeze make ripples against the shore. It had been two weeks since his awakening in the infirmary. He'd been treated to frequent visits from Ron and the rest of his family, various members of the Order, and professors. He'd eaten more food in the past two weeks than the past two months. Today was the first day Harry had been released from Madame Pomphrey's care. Eager to be free of the confinement of the hospital bed, and to stretch his legs, he had taken a stroll around the grounds.
As he basked in the late afternoon sun, he thought about how perfect the past few weeks had been. People who cared were there almost ever minute of the day, house elves, under strict orders to feed him well, came up with what ever Harry wanted to eat, and his homework was finished to perfection. And Harry still couldn't stop being miserable.
The crushing grief that fell upon him every time he had free time to think was over whelming. Sirius was gone. That thought plagued him unmercifully. That it was all his fault simply added salt to his wounds. He lay back and let his thoughts stew while he watched the clouds float past.
Tears started to slip down the sides of his face. Harry hurriedly scrubbed them away as he heard the footsteps of someone trying to alert him of their presence. He looked at Professor Summers as she arranged herself on the grass next to him.
"Hi." She said.
"Hello." Those were the only words spoken for a while, and Harry found himself slipping back into his own thoughts. He saw in his mind, the flash of light from Bellatrix's wand and Sirius falling, in slow motion through the arch and behind the veil.
Buffy's voice broke his reverie. She knew the signs of a serious brood session. She also knew that Harry had been doing too much of it as of late.
"So, what'cha thinking about?"
Harry sighed. He had talked with Buffy during his recuperation and found her views on the wizarding world refreshing. She had told him she came from the muggle world, but she seemed to know endless stories about the Dark Arts.
" What do you think happens to people when they die?"
Buffy started. This was quite possibly the last question she had expected from the young man next to her.
"Did Dumbledore ask you to ask me that?"
Harry turned to look at the woman next to him, puzzled, "No, why?"
"Um, cause well, you see, I've died, twice as a matter of fact. The first time I don't remember anything, I guess it's cause I wasn't gone long enough, just a coupl'a seconds. But the second time, I was gone for like six months."
She now had Harry's complete attention, during her statement, he had raised himself off the grass and was now leaning eagerly toward her.
"How did you die, how did you come back, what was it like, did you go to heaven, hell, tell me!" As he spoke his voice got louder, almost to the point of yelling and he had grabbed her wrist, as if to pull the answers out of her.
Buffy raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly at his bony hand grasping her slim wrist. Harry looked at his hand a moment before snatching it away.
Abashedly, he said, "Sorry."
"S'okay. Um, first things first. Let's see, the first time I died, I was bitten by a vampire, and left to drown in a puddle of water. My friend performed CPR and revived me."
She tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear and turned to stare out across the lake.
"The second time, I jumped from a hundred-foot tower to save the world from being over-run by demons from a hell dimension."
"Wow, but, um, how did you jumping from a tower, stop demons?"
"My blood closed a portal to the hell dimension, that was opened by an insane goddess from that dimension."
"So err, where did the portal take you?"
"Nowhere, the portal closed and I slammed into the ground. I died."
"Then what?"
"I was buried, next to my mom, I went to…heaven." The last part was almost a whisper.
"Heaven? Really heaven? As in harps and wings and the whole deal?"
"No," Buffy was whispering now, as if the memories almost couldn't bear to be spoken aloud. "There weren't wings, or harps, but there was no pain, or worry, I didn't have to fight, there was just peace, and happiness. I was loved, my mother was there, I knew I could rest, my part was done in the world…"
She trailed off as tears now flowed down her cheeks.
Harry didn't know what to say or do. When he had demanded answers, he hadn't thought that she might not want to leave where ever she had been. He spoke aloud and told her so.
"Hah," The bitter sharp laugh was a harsh contrast to her previous dreamy tone. "You're not the only one. You wanted to know how I came back. Well, my friends couldn't cope without me. In particular, my one friend Willow, she researched major dark arts, and called up some major mojo. It ripped me out of heaven, and put me back in my body. They thought the spell had failed at first, 'cause they forgot one thing. I was back in my body but my body was still six feet under. I don't recommend digging your way out of a coffin for fun on a Friday night."
"Oh."
"Yeah, oh. Listen, Harry, am I correct in thinking this is about your godfather?"
"Yeah, kinda."
"Well, I don't claim to know the whole story, but I will tell you that in my experience, death happens. It's horrible for those left behind, but there's really nothing you can do about it. Trying to bring someone back, it never works. It hurts losing someone, but eventually the pain goes away, and you remember the good things about that person. "
"You don't understand, he was the last of my family, and it's my fault he died."
"Harry, stop, first off, do you think it's simply blood, or a title that makes people family? After my mom died I realized, most of my family isn't related to me. But they are the people who are there for me when I'm in need. They're the people who share my happiness, my pain, my sadness. My birth father couldn't give two figs for me or my sister, but there is a man who shares no blood ties with me that I would happily call my father, and him call me daughter. There's the family you're born with and the family that you choose."
"I guess Ron and Hermione are kinda like the brother and sister I never had, and the rest of the Weasley's too. And…and Professor Dumbledore, well don't tell him, but he's always seemed like a grandfather to me."
"See there you go. These are the people you love and who love you. And remember, you can go to any of these people if you need to talk to someone. Or me, I'm always a good listener."
"Thanks, I'll remember that."
"And well you should Harry." A new voice made the pair turn.
"Professor Dumbledore, I was just asking Buffy…err, Professor Summers about um…the afterlife."
"I know, I heard some of your conversation. I was simply waiting for a good time to interrupt. Buffy, Professor Flitwick is having trouble laying the Impervious Charm on your clothing, something about not being able to reach them."
"Can't he just get a step-stool?"
"Ah, no, I believe the problem is more that Bert is preventing him from reaching your clothes, he seems to think he's meant to be guarding your property."
"Oh…Oh! Shoot, okay, I'll be right in." She got up and dusted off her sweat pants.
"Harry, you gonna be okay?"
"Yeah," The smile he gave her was genuine, he truly did feel better for having talked to her, "yeah, I'm better, thanks."
"Well, don't forget what I said, if you ever need someone to talk to, come see me."
"I will."
And with those parting words, Buffy left the boy sitting on the shore as she followed the headmaster up to the castle.
End Chapter 13
Harry sat by the lake watching the slight breeze make ripples against the shore. It had been two weeks since his awakening in the infirmary. He'd been treated to frequent visits from Ron and the rest of his family, various members of the Order, and professors. He'd eaten more food in the past two weeks than the past two months. Today was the first day Harry had been released from Madame Pomphrey's care. Eager to be free of the confinement of the hospital bed, and to stretch his legs, he had taken a stroll around the grounds.
As he basked in the late afternoon sun, he thought about how perfect the past few weeks had been. People who cared were there almost ever minute of the day, house elves, under strict orders to feed him well, came up with what ever Harry wanted to eat, and his homework was finished to perfection. And Harry still couldn't stop being miserable.
The crushing grief that fell upon him every time he had free time to think was over whelming. Sirius was gone. That thought plagued him unmercifully. That it was all his fault simply added salt to his wounds. He lay back and let his thoughts stew while he watched the clouds float past.
Tears started to slip down the sides of his face. Harry hurriedly scrubbed them away as he heard the footsteps of someone trying to alert him of their presence. He looked at Professor Summers as she arranged herself on the grass next to him.
"Hi." She said.
"Hello." Those were the only words spoken for a while, and Harry found himself slipping back into his own thoughts. He saw in his mind, the flash of light from Bellatrix's wand and Sirius falling, in slow motion through the arch and behind the veil.
Buffy's voice broke his reverie. She knew the signs of a serious brood session. She also knew that Harry had been doing too much of it as of late.
"So, what'cha thinking about?"
Harry sighed. He had talked with Buffy during his recuperation and found her views on the wizarding world refreshing. She had told him she came from the muggle world, but she seemed to know endless stories about the Dark Arts.
" What do you think happens to people when they die?"
Buffy started. This was quite possibly the last question she had expected from the young man next to her.
"Did Dumbledore ask you to ask me that?"
Harry turned to look at the woman next to him, puzzled, "No, why?"
"Um, cause well, you see, I've died, twice as a matter of fact. The first time I don't remember anything, I guess it's cause I wasn't gone long enough, just a coupl'a seconds. But the second time, I was gone for like six months."
She now had Harry's complete attention, during her statement, he had raised himself off the grass and was now leaning eagerly toward her.
"How did you die, how did you come back, what was it like, did you go to heaven, hell, tell me!" As he spoke his voice got louder, almost to the point of yelling and he had grabbed her wrist, as if to pull the answers out of her.
Buffy raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly at his bony hand grasping her slim wrist. Harry looked at his hand a moment before snatching it away.
Abashedly, he said, "Sorry."
"S'okay. Um, first things first. Let's see, the first time I died, I was bitten by a vampire, and left to drown in a puddle of water. My friend performed CPR and revived me."
She tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear and turned to stare out across the lake.
"The second time, I jumped from a hundred-foot tower to save the world from being over-run by demons from a hell dimension."
"Wow, but, um, how did you jumping from a tower, stop demons?"
"My blood closed a portal to the hell dimension, that was opened by an insane goddess from that dimension."
"So err, where did the portal take you?"
"Nowhere, the portal closed and I slammed into the ground. I died."
"Then what?"
"I was buried, next to my mom, I went to…heaven." The last part was almost a whisper.
"Heaven? Really heaven? As in harps and wings and the whole deal?"
"No," Buffy was whispering now, as if the memories almost couldn't bear to be spoken aloud. "There weren't wings, or harps, but there was no pain, or worry, I didn't have to fight, there was just peace, and happiness. I was loved, my mother was there, I knew I could rest, my part was done in the world…"
She trailed off as tears now flowed down her cheeks.
Harry didn't know what to say or do. When he had demanded answers, he hadn't thought that she might not want to leave where ever she had been. He spoke aloud and told her so.
"Hah," The bitter sharp laugh was a harsh contrast to her previous dreamy tone. "You're not the only one. You wanted to know how I came back. Well, my friends couldn't cope without me. In particular, my one friend Willow, she researched major dark arts, and called up some major mojo. It ripped me out of heaven, and put me back in my body. They thought the spell had failed at first, 'cause they forgot one thing. I was back in my body but my body was still six feet under. I don't recommend digging your way out of a coffin for fun on a Friday night."
"Oh."
"Yeah, oh. Listen, Harry, am I correct in thinking this is about your godfather?"
"Yeah, kinda."
"Well, I don't claim to know the whole story, but I will tell you that in my experience, death happens. It's horrible for those left behind, but there's really nothing you can do about it. Trying to bring someone back, it never works. It hurts losing someone, but eventually the pain goes away, and you remember the good things about that person. "
"You don't understand, he was the last of my family, and it's my fault he died."
"Harry, stop, first off, do you think it's simply blood, or a title that makes people family? After my mom died I realized, most of my family isn't related to me. But they are the people who are there for me when I'm in need. They're the people who share my happiness, my pain, my sadness. My birth father couldn't give two figs for me or my sister, but there is a man who shares no blood ties with me that I would happily call my father, and him call me daughter. There's the family you're born with and the family that you choose."
"I guess Ron and Hermione are kinda like the brother and sister I never had, and the rest of the Weasley's too. And…and Professor Dumbledore, well don't tell him, but he's always seemed like a grandfather to me."
"See there you go. These are the people you love and who love you. And remember, you can go to any of these people if you need to talk to someone. Or me, I'm always a good listener."
"Thanks, I'll remember that."
"And well you should Harry." A new voice made the pair turn.
"Professor Dumbledore, I was just asking Buffy…err, Professor Summers about um…the afterlife."
"I know, I heard some of your conversation. I was simply waiting for a good time to interrupt. Buffy, Professor Flitwick is having trouble laying the Impervious Charm on your clothing, something about not being able to reach them."
"Can't he just get a step-stool?"
"Ah, no, I believe the problem is more that Bert is preventing him from reaching your clothes, he seems to think he's meant to be guarding your property."
"Oh…Oh! Shoot, okay, I'll be right in." She got up and dusted off her sweat pants.
"Harry, you gonna be okay?"
"Yeah," The smile he gave her was genuine, he truly did feel better for having talked to her, "yeah, I'm better, thanks."
"Well, don't forget what I said, if you ever need someone to talk to, come see me."
"I will."
And with those parting words, Buffy left the boy sitting on the shore as she followed the headmaster up to the castle.
End Chapter 13