9. Samhain Night

The bubbling of laughter and the scent of roasting pumpkins faded into silence and the damp scent of leaves as Harry climbed the mountain path. He walked alone, his heart as heavy as the rock he carried in both hands, and the metallic grey sky pressing down above him. On entering the shrouded clearing, he laid his rock on the cairn, and sat down on a mossy fallen tree, trying to think.

For the first time in two months he was alone. At times, those two months had seemed to speed by in a fast-forwarded sequence of lessons, Quidditch and homework. At other times, when his brain latched onto the image of Sirius's stormy eyes looking into his, those grey eyes reflecting surprise as he free-fell towards eternity...each second felt like a life sentence.

As the stillness of the shrine penetrated the confusion of Harry's exhausted mind, memories played through his head, as tangible as if he was watching the images of his own thoughts from within a pensieve. A jet black dog with gleaming pale eyes emerging from the darkness of a Muggle street...a wasted madman in the dusty Shrieking Shack, his sunken eyes blazing with intensity as he roared, 'then you should have died...died rather than betray your friends'...the smile that illuminated Sirius Black's gaunt face at the thought of sharing a home with his godson...grey eyes meeting his, before embracing the open sky, 'you are – truly your father's son'...Sirius's head regarding him from the fireplace, his haunted eyes full of concern...a muddy paw print on a folded piece of parchment...a strong hand gripping his shoulder as he spoke of what happened in the graveyard...Sirius sweeping his long dark hair from his eyes, bitterly cursing the spiteful image of his mother...laughing and singing, 'God rest ye merry Hippogriffs'...and that barking laugh again, taunting death before he fell...

The force of his memory was so strong, Harry felt as though he lived the moments he had spent with Sirius again...and they seemed to pass in no time at all, in a fraction of the years that stretched out endlessly behind and before him. Consumed for those fleeting instants by the past, Harry felt Sirius's presence so strongly that as his vision of his godfather faded into oblivion, he was stabbed by an intense shock of loss. Overwhelmed by hopelessness too suffocating for tears, he sat staring at the ground for a long time.

Soft footsteps disturbed the stillness. 'Harry...I just wanted to make sure you're okay...' Ginny shifted her feet hesitantly at the entrance to the clearing, twisting a strand of flaming hair. 'I'll go, if you want to be alone...we were just...worried about you.' Her brown eyes were shaded with concern.

Harry opened his mouth to say yes, he would rather be left alone. His mind played another memory. 'Excuse me, but I care what happens to Sirius as much as you do!' ...Ginny staring entranced at the fluttering veil...lying as if dead on the cold floor of the chamber of secrets. Ginny loved Sirius too...she knew death too...

He shrugged. 'I don't mind...stay if you want to.'

Ginny hesitated a moment longer, biting a fingernail. The breeze lifted her red hair from her shoulders, and she shivered slightly in the chill. The autumn leaves rustled softly under her feet as she crossed the clearing. She sat down beside Harry on the mossy log. Her hair curtained her face; it smelled like apples. Uncertainly, Ginny embraced Harry in a one-armed hug. 'I'm sorry this has to be so hard for you,' she said simply, in a soft voice.

Harry gave a half-smile in return. He was getting used to people trying to cheer him up, not accepting his misery for what it was. Ginny rested her head against his shoulder. Her empathy was tangible as she shared in his grief. Harry felt the iron clamp of pain around his heart released slightly. They sat like that for a long while, silent apart from the swaying of the wind through the trees, the whisper of falling autumn leaves.

It occurred to Harry that to be sitting like this with Cho or any other girl would seem strange, but somehow it felt completely natural and comforting. She's a good friend, he reflected, remembering Ginny's determination to save Sirius, the risk she had taken to help him break into Umbridge's office, the way she had stood up for Jade in front of Snape...However angry Harry got with Ron and Hermione, he had to admit he was lucky to have friends like them. And Ginny...she had always seemed much younger, and her childish infatuation had made Harry feel awkward in her company...but that was long ago...she was loyal and kind enough to give up her afternoon in Hogsmeade, where everyone was enjoying the Halloween festivities, to sit here with him. He had wanted to be alone...but it was nice not to be.

A distant call echoed through the steel grey sky. Harry and Ginny looked up to see an eagle overhead, soaring as a spirit set free. Harry thought of Sirius...incarcerated for twelve years...how he must have longed just to see the sky. The gunmetal sky above him reflected the moonlight in Sirius's eyes as he took off on that midnight flight to freedom. Harry could almost hear Sirius's gleeful laughter as Buckbeak flew off into the darkness; could almost see his eyes in the sky.

'It's weird...' Harry said slowly. 'He doesn't seem so...far away...right now.'

'Samhain night,' Ginny replied softly. 'The veil between us and the otherworld is hardly there. People believe it's possible to communicate with the dead. I've heard that the Unspeakables go into the amphitheatre, and people speak to them from behind the veil.'

Harry shivered slightly. Encouraged as he felt by the sense of Sirius's presence at the cairn that afternoon, hearing voices from behind a veil seemed...spooky. He couldn't help imagining Sirius laughing at the idea.

'I believe he'll always be with you...in his own way,' Ginny said, as if reading his thoughts.

A sudden gust of wind shook several tawny leaves from the trees, and heavy raindrops splashed down, filling the air with a fresh, earthy scent. Thunder drum-rolled in the distance.

'We'd better get back,' Ginny suggested. Harry nodded, and she set off at a run down the mountain path. Harry followed, his feet skidding on the slippery leaves.

They caught up with Ron and Hermione on the road back to Hogwarts. Hermione gave Ginny a questioning look, which she appeared not to notice, brushing tendrils of dripping red hair off her face as they slowed to a walk, too wet to run from the rain any more.

Harry dreamed about Sirius that night. He was talking to his godfather in the fireplace. The dream was so vivid he could feel the hard stone floor beneath his legs, the heat of the flickering tongues of flame on his face. He had gone to the fireplace to ask Sirius about the prophecy... 'born to those who have thrice defied him'...Sirius's face was alight with triumph as he regaled Harry with tales of how he had fought beside James and Lily, how he had defended his best friends against the forces of evil...three times. He grinned proudly at the memory of their bravery, their bold defiance. Sirius smiled wistfully as he spoke of James and Lily's love for their son. He chuckled as he recalled the happy moments they had shared; the instances where they had taken refuge from despair in laughter. Sirius's steel eyes blazed with anger as he spoke of their friend's betrayal, and sparked with determination as he swore that one day, vengeance would be executed. And those eyes melted with love as he spoke of meeting his godson after all those lost years. And Harry knew that within him, he held the strength to defy the Dark Lord once more. Strength that came not only from himself, but from the ones he had loved, whose power lived on in his heart.

Miles away in London, Jade woke as the child stirred and shifted within her. Tangled in the remnants of her dream – a dream of a fearless grey-eyed child – she felt Sirius's comforting warmth beside her, his breath soft and hot on her cheek. She tasted red wine on his lips in a sleepy kiss, and felt his strong hand resting protectively over her belly.

And Remus Lupin smiled as he slept. In his dream he was running, his paws drumming on the mossy forest floor, the scent of pine needles, earth and rain in his nostrils. He breathed the scent of freedom, heard the moon calling him onwards. His veins throbbed with power as he ran, his beast unchained and unafraid, Padfoot and Prongs beside him.