He looked at her disbelieving.
"What do you mean, have I mourned yet? What do you think I've been doing for the last month and a half, having a picnic?"
"No Harry, you've not been mourning, you've been blaming. Blaming yourself for getting Sirius killed and for getting your friends into danger."
He stared open mouthed at her. She went on.
"Harry, you don't get this many gray hairs from life without learning a lot about it. I know grieving. I've lost my two boys to Voldemort. And I've lost my husband to illness. Do you think I didn't blame myself for letting those boys go into such a dangerous life without regrets? Without blame?"
He didn't know what to say.
"I've always looked at you like a grandson. I've watched over you while your were out walking the streets, or sitting outside your home. Your lonely life here can only be described as desolate. What do you know of love besides what you have learned at school? Your loss of your parents is something you really never thought of possibly because you were so young. But the loss of your godfather is something that's real and now. You loved him like a father. Looked to him for guidance, wisdom and love. All of which he gave back willingly. He gave his life for you without question and would have done it a thousand times over. You miss him Harry, and you should let yourself grieve that loss."
Harry felt tears well up in his eyes threatening to let loose. He buried his face in his hands. Mrs. Figg's got up from her chair and walked over to him. She placed her hand on his shoulder.
"It's all right to grieve Harry. It's a natural process that everyone who suffers a loss must go through. You have to honour their memory and a good way to do that is to let yourself remember how much they meant to you."
This was all too much for him to bear. He began sobbing uncontrollably now. He couldn't help himself. He let it wash over him like a wall of water over a dam. She knelt beside him and gave him a great big hug which made him sob all the harder. After about five minutes, he regained himself.
"Now don't you feel better?" She stood up and sat in here chair again. "Holding all that in isn't doing you any good. Maybe you'd like to freshen up? You know where the bathroom is. There is a fresh washcloth in the side cupboard. I'll warm up the tea."
Harry got up and went to the bathroom. He took a washcloth and ran cold water over it. The coolness of the rag felt good on his puffed up face. He stood there holding it in place until the warmth from his face had transferred to the cloth and then he wet it again. He did a few more times and then he gave himself a look over in the mirror. Although some puffiness remained, his eyes weren't too red at all. His skin colour was a light pink. Actually, it was the first colour he had seen in his skin in a few weeks.
He marveled at how Mrs. Figg's was able to hit the nail right on the head as far as what he was thinking. He felt tremendous relief at letting out all the anguish he had been holding back, not wanting to forgive himself for his guilt. He washed his face one more time and went to rejoin Mrs. Figg out on the patio.
"Do you feel a bit more like yourself Harry?" She asked.
He nodded.
"I'm sorry I put you through that, but you really needed to let it go. Have a cup of tea." She switched topics.
"Are you going to go to Arthur and Molly's before school starts?"
"I dunno, they said they'd try to get me out of here as soon as they could, but I'm not sure if that meant the Burrow, or Headquarters."
"Well, I hope it's sooner for your sake. I mean really, a boy of your age and all you've been through should have the ones who cares about him and who he cares about, around him giving him all the support in the world."
Harry looked at his watch. After gazing at it for a few seconds, he remembered that it wasn't working. "Um… Mrs. Figg. Do you have the time?" he asked.
"It's 1:30 Harry, why?"
"Well, I told Dobby, that I'd be home for lunch and I'm running late. I want to thank you for tea and cookies. It was nice to be able to get a few things off my chest. And you were right about the release of some of my grief. I don't think Sirius would have wanted for me to act the way I have lately, nor my parents for that matter.
"Not a problem Harry, anytime." Mrs. Figg replied.
Harry let himself out the garden gate and proceeded to walk home. As he walked up the steps to #4 Privet Drive, he noticed that Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were just leaving the house.
"We are going out for a late lunch. There is soup in the pot on the stove and sandwiches in the fridge if you are hungry. Do not disturb any of our things while we are away." And with that, the Dursleys got into their shiny new car and drove away.
Harry walked into the house and straight up to his bedroom. Dobby was sitting on the trunk darning some of Harry's old socks.
"I'm sorry I'm late Dobby, I hope I didn't spoil the food by having it go cold."
"Not to worry Harry Potter. I have put a 'Tempesta Hora' charm on your bedside alarm clock. It tells me when you will be coming home, if you are in any danger, etc. etc. Every good wizarding house has them. They are very useful. They keep house elf's running on schedule. I knew you wouldn't be home soon so I didn't start lunch yet."
"Good, because, I'm not that hungry yet. I think I will go have a rest and think of what I have learned today."
"Very well, Dobby will bring you lunch when you are ready."
Harry went over to the comfy couch and sat down. So many revelations today had sent his mind racing: First with Endora, and just now with Mrs. Figg. His mental state lately had been frayed to say the least. But somehow, he felt a bit of a release. He swung his feet up onto the couch and laid his head on the pillow. He needed to regain his strength. He needed to be in control. The fight to the death with Lord Voldemort would not be too far in the distance and he needed to be ready. But how?
His mind drifted towards Sirius. Why couldn't Harry save him from the Veil? Someone behind it was whispering. Who was it? Why didn't anybody besides Luna hear it? What was that veil anyways? He would send Hermione a letter tomorrow asking about it. If Hermione new anything, it was how to find answers.
Harry lay on the couch for a while pondering these questions until he fell asleep. He was dreaming of being in the Ministry of Magic down in level 9: Department of Mysteries. He had walked through the different rooms that he had been in the previous school year; the room of brains, the time turner's room, the room of the prophecies. He had stopped though in the room where the Veil had been located. He walked down the steps closer and closer to the veil. The sounds of the voices were getting louder and louder as he approached. He was listening, straining almost to hear what it had to say, but to no avail. He was just reaching up to touch the veil when he was startled awake by the tap tap tapping at his window.