Death by Jam

Immortality. That's what I wished for when I blew out the candles on my last birthday cake. Not just for me, but for everyone. My son, my friends and the rest. Even the bad people in this world deserve to live.

There is nothing worse than suffering the death of a loved one. I should know; I've had to bear four hard deaths in fifteen years. First, my mother, when I was nine. Next was one of my closest friends, Ginny Weasley, when I was sixteen. Then Daddy died two days before my twentieth birthday. But I think the worst loss was my beloved Harry. His death was short, sharp and sudden.

I can play the scene in my head over and over. Sometimes I wish it would go. But it won't. The worst memories never do.

Our little son Henry stood by the fridge, jam smeared on his chubby cheeks. I came in just in time to see it happen. Henry was trying to make himself a jam sandwich. Harry hurried over to help, before there was a sticky mess but it was too late. Henry held a large carving knife in his right hand, a large dollop of raspberry jam on the end. I remember watching as the jam dropped to the floor, as Harry slipped on it, his bare feet touching the cold tiles. I was paralyzed as I watched his head collide with the wooden cabinet, which I had begged him not to buy. I ran over too him, but I was too late. His head lay in a blob of raspberry jam, blood running down his cheeks, glasses splintered.

I grabbed his hand and felt for the pulse. Nothing. His chest rose, giving me one last ray of hope, but when it fell he did not breathe again. He was gone.

"Is Mr. Potter dead?" Henry asked solemnly. He's quite a serious little boy really, and after hearing so many people call Harry, 'Mr. Potter', he started doing it himself. Harry got rather irritated by it, but I think it's sweet.

"Henry, Daddy is going away for a while. Quite a long time, but don't worry. We'll see him again one day," I replied. Tears rolled down both of our cheeks.

"Dead. He's dead," Henry said as I pulled him onto my lap.

"Y…yes, he's dead. But the place he's going, he'll have a wonderful time," I choked. "He might even get to meet Mummy – your grandmother…and his own parents. Sirius, Dumbledore, Ginny. He'd like that."

"But he won't have us! Won't he miss us, Mummy?"

"He'll have us in his heart. He'll miss us lots and lots but he'll be watching over us to make sure we're ok."

"Mummy are there Snorkacks where he's going?"

I gave him a weak smile, "Yes Henry. Lots of Crumple Horned Snorkacks and Blibbering Humdingers. Heliopaths and Wrackspurts. Gnutbails and Wickapops. They even have strawberries!"

He was silent for some time and then said, "What about jam? Do they have jam?"

I blocked out his words and brushed the hair away from Harry's eyes. I lay down next to his body and rested my head on his shoulder. Henry cuddled up next to me. I clutched his hand. He was the only member of my family left and I wasn't going to lose him.

If everybody was immortal then this wouldn't have happened. My son wouldn't be fatherless and I would still have a husband. Henry would have a god-mother and two sets of grand-parents. I would have my friend, my parents and those in-laws that I've yet to meet.

Although, if we were all immortal then You-Know-Who would not have been defeated. The terror and destruction that killed so many would still be amongst us. Perhaps people wouldn't be dying, but there was bound to be torture and cruelty all the same. I suppose not everything can be perfect, least of all the world.

A few weeks after Harry's death, I took Henry too the forest a few kilometers away from our house. We soon came across two Thestrals, familiar to me although this was the first time Henry had seen them. I met those two at Hogwarts in the Forbidden Forest, during my first year, and when I left school they came with me, of their own accord.

Henry was gazing at them wide-eyed. The taller one flapped his bat-like wings and nuzzled my hand, looking for food. Some people might think them rather ugly, with their pupil-less eyes and skeletal bodies, but I love them.

"What are those things?" Henry whispered.

"Thestrals. Don't worry they won't harm you. You can only see them now, because you've-" I stopped and coughed, trying to get rid of the lump in my throat. "Witnessed death."

Henry eyed them warily. I pulled a small bottle of blood from my robes and poured a little on his palm. It was Harry's blood. I had saved a bit for this moment, thinking it would make it more momentous. But it just upset me more.

Immediately the two Thestrals approached him, licking off the blood. Henry smiled with childish pride.

"That one's Sootyhoof," I said, pointing to the bigger Thestral. "And she's called Daisybeam."

I patted them, liking the feel of their silky skin.

"Mummy are they like horses? Can you…ride them?"

I smiled, "Oh yes you can ride them, and listen too this-" I ruffled his hair, "they can fly!"

Henry's eyes widened even more and he looked at me.

"Yes, we can ride them," I said, understanding his unspoken question, and lifted him onto Daisybeam.

I wound his hand into Daisybeam's mane and slid easily onto Sootyhoof's back. I swung both legs over one side, riding side-saddle.

"Hold on tight; they can be quite fast," I warned Henry.

Sootyhoof extended his wings and crouched down. He shot upwards into the afternoon sunlight, a change after the dark enclosure named Ferndew Forest, which we had just come from.

I chanced a look behind me. Henry clutched onto his Thestral's mane; holding on for dear life. But he was safe and enjoying himself. His eyes expressed almost as much excitement as they had when he first heard of the Crumple Horned Snorkack.

We flew on for quite some time. The Thestral's pace became slower; it was wearing them out, although the same could not be said for my son. We were riding side by side then. I listened to the flapping of Sootyhoof's wings and leant closer in, as the breeze blew my hair about.

"Mummy can-" Henry broke off and suddenly he was falling, falling down into the greenery below.

"Fly! Down! Henry!" I screamed in panic. Sootyhoof immediately halted in mid-air, bared his fangs and hurtled downwards. We must have been quite high up, as I could still see his body falling. I gripped the Thestrals mane harder and hoped. If Henry died too then I might as well kill myself and joined them all.

Amazingly, we were no more than a metre behind Henry's zooming body. Never under estimate the speed of Thestral. Quickly, I pulled my wand from my robe pocket and pointed at Henry, although my hand was shaking.

"ACCIO HENRY!" I yelled, praying it would work. I'd never tried to summon a human before. Within thirty seconds, Henry was safely in my lap, as Sootyhoof rocketed to a land, Daisybeam close behind.

A single tear rolled down my cheek, but no more. You can only cry so much, before you use up all your tears.

"Thank-you," I whispered to no-one in particular. My son was alive and that was most definitely something to be thankful for.

The End