Even In Death

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters. It belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Chapter 2 – The Letter

Harry became a lonely man, but that did not matter to him; because his heart was solitary since long time already. Ginny really tried to help him and they grew kind of closer, but at times he still seemed distant.

He returned to the ordinary life, not wanting to lose his job as a Hogwarts teacher, that gave him certain feeling of sureness and peace despite the many students. No one knew about the thoughts and feelings he pushed away. Hermione's image, the sound of her voice, her laughter, the way she moved and the insane belief that one day she'd return – that everything stayed hidden somewhere deep in his mind, waiting for some sparks to ignite the flame so they can explode.

His friends, colleagues and students felt relieved that he got over and felt alive again. Ginny was happy for him too, even though sometimes she had slight doubts. But they were too tender to make her really worried. She was just unbelievably happy that the Harry she used to know when they were young and not tormented by countless tragedies was back.

They spent a lot of time together now. Ginny was happier and happier with every day. It seemed that Harry was, too. There was something like relationship building up between them. They both felt it, although none of them dared to say anything; for starting relationships are fragile things that could shatter easily if there are wrong words said or even right words said at wrong time.

Soon he invited Ginny to the Three Broomsticks for a date, danced with her at the Yule ball, and they spent whole Christmas holiday together at Hogwarts, going for long walks, leading long talks about everything and nothing, visiting Hogsmeade, just enjoying each other's company. It was during this time, when he finally said those three important words to her and she became the happiest woman in the whole world. Earlier she had never thought it would ever come true, that he would ever love her, still she had longed to hear him say so, since she got to know him. And so everything seemed perfect. But as we know, looks are often misleading.

One day after end of all classes, Harry was still sitting in the classroom when there was a knock on his window. Surprised, he looked up only to see a big brown owl with a letter in its peak. He opened the window, the owl flied in, let the letter fall on his head and flied away.

He was flabbergasted. Who could be the letter from? He didn't get a letter for a long time already and he couldn't think of anyone who would write him. He had also never seen this particular owl before.

He looked at the letter, there was only his name written on the top, no sender. He reluctantly opened it and began to read:

I can imagine that you must be pretty surprised now, Potter. I bet you thought there wasn't anyone that could send you a letter. Well, you were mistaken, as you can see now. Although if anyone told me that one day I'd send a letter to you few years before, I think I'd turn them into something rather ugly. I guess we have all changed. Things are not what they used to be once. Even my hate for you seems somewhat vague during these long days… And yet I know I hate you with passion. After all, you are the sole cause of me being here.

Harry averted his eyes at this point. He already knew who was the letter from. At first he wanted to throw it in the fireplace and let it burn, but then decided against it. He had always, even after so many bad things had happened to him, believed in second chances. And the one, who wrote this letter, should have the chance to say what he wanted, too. So he decided to listen to his words, even though they may just hurt him.

I guess that when you finally got it, who's this from, you wanted just to throw it away and not read anymore. Maybe you did. But I believe otherwise: you were always the one to believe in chances. I think you'd gave one even to me: to say what I want. You see how I got to know you after all these years of being enemies? At certain point, this could be an advantage for me. But you know many things about me too. Do you think of me sometimes? How it all happened that day? I do think of it a lot. There isn't many better things to do here in Azkaban. You think you know what it's like, Potter? You don't. You can even imagine and it gets worse and worse with every day. But one day, I'll be able to get out. And then...

But that is not the matter I wanted to write about now. I wonder how come you never gave another chance to her. Yes, I've heard of that what happened. What happened because of you. And I realise, just as good as you do, that it was truly your fault. You didn't deserve her, you never did. I, on the other hand...but she wasn't good enough for me, a muggle-born witch...that's not for keeps. Even though she was as close to me as one could get. You see all the years here had had a bad influence on me. I got so meek… yet even at my weakest point, I am so much stronger than you… I wouldn't ever do what you did. So self-righteous and arrogant as the ones you despise, you are the cause of her downfall after all, not me.

How strange. I think you are too weak to face it, even. Have you already forgotten all about her? I get the feeling that some of your friends always knew that you were not better than me. But if this were my fault, I would take actions to undo it. There are many ways, you know. I would do anything to get her back, were I in your place. But you never deserved her. I can imagine that now you think it cannot get worse anymore. But I'll get back and then you'll see…

D. M.

Just two plain letters, not even whole name, but that was more than enough. 'After all what he'd done, he had the guts to write words like this. He'll never change, the bloody bastard. How dares he? He'll never get out. If he ever comes here to speak of her, I'll kill him with my bare hands,' swore Harry. He threw the letter into flames immediately and let it burn.

But no matter how he tried to forget it, he found out that he remembered every single word of it. And the words etched in his mind kept repeating themselves, bringing him to confusion and doubt and misery.

What if Malfoy was right? Right in everything. Still more it bothered him, especially one part.

"I'd do anything to get her back."

Was that really possible? Could he do it? He started again to suffer nightmares, such ones where she still was alive, talked to him, laughed with him, walked with him, and then suddenly disappeared, or worse, left him on purpose, saying: "But you never deserved me, Harry. I'll be gone soon...I love Draco."

Or he saw Malfoy, laughing victoriously, telling him about his guilt, repeating words that were so familiar to Harry, yet he opposed to understand them. And then one day, when it became too much and he felt like dying, he went to the library, to the restricted section.

He walked among the shelves for a while, knowing too well what he was looking for, before finding the courage to grip the book and take it out. It was thick book in leather binding, with a name carved in its back.

It said simply: Dark Arts. Harry opened it slowly and flipped through the pages, until the words he was looking for caught his eyes: "Allanei – the spell of evanescent return."

A/N: so, you liked? Want to know what happens next? Yeah, me too :) Just joking, I already know, and I hope that I will be able to post it soon...