A.N. warning: this chapter contains some more adult themes towards the end. Though I don't think it is enough for me to have to make my rating R, I think it is fair enough to warn you, so that you wouldn't flame me. And if you still feel like flaming me, I would appreciate it, if you signed it, so that I could explain to you in more depths my idea.
Chapter 21
He's coming back Beaky
Harry was sitting on the floor among a pile of dead rats. His shoulders felt stiff from sitting upright for so long, from the meeting Dumbledore had requested. He had since tucked himself in Buckbeak's room. He sat there, settled against the wall, trying to tempt Buckbeak with some very juicy fresh rats, disgusting though Harry thought they were. But the hippogriff would not stir.
Ever since Sirius had gone beyond the veil, the hippogriff barely touched his food. Hagrid was the only one who could still make the depressed beast eat anything. Buckbeak was lying on the floor, which was a bad sign. He opened one of his golden eyes and watched the boy. Even to the animal the boy did not look well.
Harry's usual grumpy mood had evaporated. Ever since he had seen Spica he had felt there was something special about her. However, nothing he had known of her had prepared him for today.
All last night he had thought over what had happened to her and her sister. Sitting on his bed, he had given Ron a detailed account of the recent days' events. He might have left out some parts about his last dreams but he tried not to leave out too much.
Seeing her at breakfast had been a big surprise. Now the surprise was even bigger.
Harry tried one more time to lure the hippogriff to take a bite out of a dead rat but to no avail. 'You miss Sirius, don't you?' he asked the animal. The huge beast turned his head around in order to study him better with his large golden eyes. The boy was smiling.
Harry was positively beaming at the hippogriff. He hadn't been this happy in a long time. This feeling was definitely good enough to fight of all the dementors in Azkaban. He had never hoped for something like this to happen. Ever since his talk with Nearly-Headless-Nick he had refused to think of the possibility of ever seeing Sirius again, while alive. What the ghost had told him made perfect sense. And Harry knew that Sirius was no coward--floating around and going through walls was not something Sirius would ever choose as a pastime.
But the talk with Dumbledore had made a huge difference. He still could not believe what those girls were capable of. Dumbledore himself had told him a few years ago that none could bring forth the dead. However, what he suggested them to do was the same thing.
At first, the girls had denied his plead, pointing out the dangers of such an act. But once Dumbledore explained the whole situation, Spica had had another one of her 'charming' outbursts. The girl could outdo him when it came to throwing tantrums, Harry considered with amusement.
From what she had said Harry understood that it was possible to bring Sirius back. What Dumbledore and the girls had discussed was difficult to comprehend. All Harry had managed to understand from their talk of incantations, rituals, and unveiling was that it was possible for them to bring Sirius back if there hadn't passed more then 40 days, for afterwards his spirit would leave for the other world. The 40 days ended tomorrow. Since his body had gone with his spirit there would be no trouble bringing him back just as he had been.
(Ok I'm not positive the 40 days end then, I'm probably about a day or two late, but never mind, you wait for the reviving, it's worth it.)
'He's coming back Beaky' Harry whispered to the hippogriff who appeared to understand him and appeared startled at the news. 'You don't believe me, just watch.' Harry murmured petting the feathery head of the beast.
After awhile, feeling confident, he left the room. Tomorrow would be a big day. They would first go to Diagon alley, for some purchases, for Spica and Charon. They hadn't yet received their letters from Hogwarts. There they would meet with Hermione. After that Dumbledore wanted him, the girls, and peculiarly Snape, to come with him to the Ministry. There were some things to be discussed with the minister Dumbledore said. Once finished there they would go to the Department of Mysteries to the room with the archway.
Harry did not know what to expect once there. He could not imagine what it would take to call a spirit back. Harry realised that the only way he could find out what would happen was to go and talk with Spica. He had been meaning to speak with her from the moment she had first set foot in this house, but there had not been time for it. It was late enough for her to have finished the talk with Dumbledore and Snape, Harry considered. He had been elegantly thrown out of the room once the subject of Sirius's return was finished. He wondered what was it that they did not want him to know.
He went looking for her in Ginny's room, where he knew the girls had been sent to sleep earlier. He only found Ginny chattering with Charon. It seemed they had gotten quite close in the short time and gave him a friendly wave as he entered and exited.
He tried the kitchen. The spirits were rather high as the Weasley twins demonstrated one of their latest discoveries.
Dumbledore noticed him and approached him. Despite the headmaster's habit to leave in a hurry, he was uncharacteristically still here. Harry thought it might have been related to the increased danger from Voldemort.
'Are you looking for Spica, Harry?' the headmaster asked him.
Harry looked surprised, but then when was the headmaster wrong? 'Yes'. He said.
'Would you mind if I help you locate her?' the headmaster asked him
Harry nodded, slightly puzzled and followed the headmaster to the drawing room. The headmaster opened the door and they both stepped in noiselessly.
Spica was sitting there on the window sill. Silent as death. The moonlight casting strange shadows. Her eyes were glassy; she was out in a world of her own--a dark world of her own. Harry could feel her pain and sorrow throughout the room. He could feel it through the whole house.
'I've felt this way before so insecure. Crawling in my skin, these wounds they will not heal"' she sang in a voice so unearthly that even Dumbledore was taken by surprise. He could see her looking intently at her wrist. There was bright light streaming through the window from a streetlamp. He clearly saw as slowly on her wrist formed a slim line. The skin went whiter. Then blood started to surface. Just as it began to flow, she took a small ornate dagger that had adorned one the walls only moments ago and slashed it across the cut. Instead of increasing the flow of blood, the wound disappeared completely.
It was amazing to see such a show of power, yet depressing to see it wasted like this, Dumbledore thought to himself. Harry stared on in amazement, unsure how to react. Noting Dumbledore did not seemed concerned, Harry held his position.
Spica turned to look at them, a sad smile playing on her lips, no life in her eyes. She wasn't in much mood for conversations, or for explanations. Too much had happened even for her. And she new there was much more ahead.
This night would prove to be a night of dreams that were about to come true.
A.N. see I put out a warning.
And sorry for not posting any new chapters sooner.
