A/N: Justin Hayward wrote a lot of the Moodies' most heartfelt ballads, many of which were never released as singles. Closing out the album Octave, this is a beautiful song to play for a special moment in our story. I hope I'm doing it justice. Be advised, tissues may come in handy.

Ch. 9 in which Harry reaches out…

– 9 –

The Day We Meet Again

The day we meet again
We will walk in peace
Through the garden down the road
Where the mist of time is lifting
See it rising in the air
Like the shadow I was chasing
When I looked it wasn't there
Oh, no

- The Moody Blues

o o
o

"Harry, how is this possible? Where are we?"

Harry could only stare at his godfather with longing. Ginny understood his dilemma and answered for him.

"We're in the Room of Requirement - that special room at Hogwarts we told you about."

"And it can bring people back from the other side?"

"No," said Hermione, "our Harry has apparently acquired all three of the Deathly Hallows from Beedle the Bard's Tale of the Three Brothers."

"And become 'The Master of Death!'" Ron added with a dramatic flair.

Sirius grinned, "So you needed another title to go with the Boy Who Lived, eh? Oh, just think of all the pranking opportunities you'll have now!"

"Pranks?" Harry groaned. "Really, Sirius?"

"Just trying to keep a positive spin on things," Sirius said, trying to sound reassuring. "Why did you call me first?"

"I wanted to see if the stone really worked," Harry said. "I was sort of hoping that it wouldn't, because then I could pretend that maybe you weren't -" He choked, unable to say the word.

"Sorry about that, but I am well and truly passed to the other side. The arch in the Department of Mysteries is some kind of one way portal. There's no going the other way - I asked."

"Was it awful?"

"No, not at all - just embarrassing to get beat in a straight duel with my deranged cousin. I was stunned as I went through, and when I woke up your mum and dad were alternating between hugging the stuffing out of me and slapping the stuffing out of me for being such a stupid arse. I reminded them that we all had our share of being stupid, they agreed and we've been great ever since."

"Mum… Dad… You've seen them?"

"Of course! I was with them just a few moments ago when James gives me this huge grin - like he does when a really big prank is about to happen - and he tells me to say 'hi' for them. I had no idea what was going on until I showed up here."

"They knew I was calling you?"

"I suppose they did. They can see you in this world better than I can - probably because they're your parents. They'd love to see you in person."

"They aren't disappointed in all the trouble I've gotten into? I actually used an unforgivable curse on Bellatrix after she… you know…"

"Harry, your parents are not like your aunt and uncle. They love you and are very proud of you. You are the farthest thing from a disappointment. They told me they were cheering you on through the whole ordeal at the Department of Mysteries, even when you cast that curse. They had mixed feelings about it, wishing you had been able to put more into it and at the same time relieved that your soul was pure enough that you couldn't. And remember that James and I were renowned for our trouble-making. Lily is so glad you don't act like us, despite what certain greasy-haired gits tell you."

Harry was having a hard time accepting the truth of his godfather's words. Ginny kept rubbing his back to give him the comfort he needed in the hug he could no longer get from the man himself.

"Thank you," he managed.

"A few things I wanted to tell you while I'm here," Sirius continued. "Mundungus is making off with things from Grimmauld Place - not that I care about any of the Black silver goblets and what-not, but some of it is valuable and it all is yours now."

"Okay," Harry said. "What can I do about that?"

"Call for Kreacher. He can set some enchantments to block him from entering the house."

"Will he listen to me?"

"You're his master now; he has to obey you. I met my brother Regulus and he said we've all been too hard on Kreacher, that he really is a loyal and powerful house elf. He's going to tell me the whole story sometime, but apparently he's some kind of unsung hero."

"Kreacher, a hero? But he betrayed you!"

"House-elf loyalties don't work like ours, Harry." said Hermione. "If some of the other Blacks had shown him kindness, it's likely he would obey them even if he knew it would be to his master's detriment."

"You mean like Dobby did?" said Harry.

"Yes, very much," Hermione said. "Dobby's admiration for you superseded his loyalty to the Malfoys. I know Kreacher isn't the friendliest, but you need to talk to him."

"I will," Harry said, unenthused. "Sirius, I wish you hadn't -"

"Harry, stop right there. There is nothing that I would have rather given my life doing and that is coming to help you. And there's one thing I've learned since I've been here that I want to pass on to you."

Harry looked up eagerly. "What's that?"

"Don't dwell on regrets. Resolve your past and move on."

o o o

They visited for a while longer, enjoying the companionship that none of them thought would ever be possible. Eventually, Sirius said he needed to return to his proper place and Harry reluctantly let him go.

He sat staring at the empty spot his godfather had just left. Ginny could tell his emotions were wrung out so she decided to steer him back from the edge.

"Harry, he's still so stuck on pranks, I think you need to come up with a good one for him next time you call."

Harry returned to himself, eyes brightening. "I can call him again, can't I?"

"Of course you can," Ginny said. "I don't know about the rest of you, but that was exhausting. I think we need some lunch."

"I'm all for that!" Ron agreed.

"Of course you are," said Hermione.

"Can we eat here?" Harry said. "I'd rather not go to the Great Hall right now."

"The room doesn't provide food," Hermione reminded him.

"I know," said Harry, "but I know someone who can. Dobby!"

After a short moment, the house-elf in question popped in place before them. "What can Dobby do for the great Harry Potter?" he said eagerly, bouncing in place which made his big ears flop comically about.

"The great Harry Potter is hungry," said Ginny with a smirk. "And his friends are too. Can you bring us whatever is being served from the kitchens?"

"Dobby is happy to serve the great Harry Potter's friends," he said with a bow, before popping away as suddenly as he arrived.

"Don't encourage him," Harry said, grinning wryly. "I don't need any more titles."

They all laughed, and the mood lifted.

Dobby returned after only a few minutes with a platter full of sandwiches, crisps, and other snacks. There was another tray with glasses and a pitcher of pumpkin juice.

They all thanked him until he was suitably embarrassed, but obviously pleased.

"Dobby," Harry asked, "is Kreacher still working in the kitchens here?"

"Dobby is sorry to say yes, Kreacher is here, but he is not a good elf. Kreacher grumbles all the time and says terrible things about Harry Potter. Good elves don't talk about their masters that way. It upsets the other elves, it does."

"Don't worry, Dobby, I'll talk to him."

As they ate, various possible scenarios of Kreacher as a heroic house-elf were discussed, none of which were very convincing.

"I thought Sirius said his brother was a Death Eater…"

"Didn't he have a change of heart, and that's why he was killed?"

"So Kreacher was running missions against You-Know-Who?"

When lunch was finally completed, Harry called for the house-elf who served the "Noble and Most Ancient House of Black" - whatever that meant.

"Kreacher!"

The old elf appeared with a crack, none too pleased at being summoned.

"Nasty half-blood master calls Kreacher…" he mumbled, his voice as ugly as his withered appearance.

"Kreacher," said Harry, "have you found suitable work to do here at Hogwarts?"

"Master talks to Kreacher as if he cares…"

"I do care, Kreacher," Harry said, looking at the others in bemusement, "I have heard that you have served the House of Black well over the years, especially Regulus."

His change in demeanor was immediate, his face lifting in wonder. "Half-blood master knows good master Regulus?"

"I did not know him personally, but I learned that he was very pleased with you."

To everyone's astonishment, the house-elf began to wail. "Kreacher is not a good elf! Kreacher failed his last mission for good master Regulus!" He began to beat his fists against his head.

"Kreacher, stop!" Harry said in a commanding voice. "You are not to punish yourself!"

Kreacher stopped moving and remained sobbing with his head bent to the floor.

Harry dropped to his knees in front of the elf. "Kreacher, take some deep breaths. Now, tell me about this last mission for Regulus."

Kreacher slowly gathered himself and began by saying how pleased Regulus had been to become a part of the Dark Lord's mission. One day he had the need for Kreacher's services - a great honor - but what followed was the stuff of nightmares.

The Dark Lord took the elf to a remote cavern that contained an inferi-infested lake surrounding a small island. On the island was a stone basin that contained a horrible potion that Kreacher was forced to drink, reducing him to anguished cries for help that never came. When the potion was gone, the Dark Lord placed a golden locket into the basin, refilled the potion and left Kreacher to die with the inferi.

"How did you escape?" Harry asked, incredulous.

"Master Regulus told Kreacher to do the Dark Lord's bidding, and then come home, so Kreacher came home."

Harry looked at the others and they all came to the same conclusion - Voldemort underestimated the powers of house-elves, beings below his notice. It was a known weakness that might be exploited.

When asked to continue, Kreacher told how he was hidden by Regulus after he learned what happened and Kreacher was forbidden to speak to the family about it. Regulus eventually had Kreacher take him back to the cave with another locket. Regulus then drank the potion himself, ordering Kreacher to switch the lockets, leave him and return home to destroy the Dark Lord's locket. Kreacher followed Regulus' orders, including watching his master get dragged into the lake to die.

"But Kreacher could not destroy the locket," he wailed again, bloodshot eyes streaming tears. "Kreacher thought he could open it to get past the spells on the casing, but nothing worked - magics were too strong for Kreacher to break, and Kreacher has failed to obey…"

He sank to the floor, wracked in sobs. The others weren't much better off, deeply moved by the tragic tale of house-elf loyalty and the staggering sacrifice of Regulus himself.

They were both unsung heroes.

"Kreacher," Harry said quietly, "where is the locket now?"

"Kreacher managed to save it from nasty rummaging wizard who steals."

"Mundungus," muttered Ron.

"Kreacher, bring the locket to me," said Harry. "We may be able to help you."

The elf looked up, a faint glimmer of hope shining in his eyes, then he was gone with a crack.

The four of them stared at each other for a long moment.

"Can we really help him?" Ron said. "If a house-elf can't do it -"

"Then we take it to Dumbledore," Ginny said.

At the moment, Kreacher returned, startling the four teens. In his hands was the golden locket Harry had just seen the night before in a memory from years ago.

Harry stood up. "That's the Gaunt locket!" he said, realizing that there was a puzzle taking shape, not just because of the connection to Voldemort's family, but because the Elder Wand was screeching almost the same angry note that came from his own curse scar.

o o o

It was some time before Kreacher was reassured enough to leave the locket with the teens. After instructing him to lock down the old Black residence, Harry told him to go back to whatever he was doing before.

"I recognize this," said Hermione. "It was at Grimmauld Place. Sirius tried to throw it out even then."

"If it's cursed," said Ginny, "we should probably be very careful with it."

"If it was like that ring," agreed Ron, "it might be the same withering curse that Dumbledore got."

"Possibly," said Harry. "But the Elder Wand is giving me the same sound as my scar, with a little something else mixed in."

"That was caused by the killing curse!" said Hermione. "Opening it might be the last thing that person ever does."

"That sounds about right," snarked Ron. "You Know Who wouldn't want you bragging about undoing his protections."

"I think Dumbledore needs to know," said Harry, "but he's away for some time. He wasn't sure how long it would be. This thing needs to be kept someplace safe in the meantime."

"Would the room provide a safe storage place?"

"Good idea, Hermione," said Harry. "There's only one way to find out." He closed his eyes and thought 'I need a place to hide this locket.'

The sitting room dissolved into a cavernous space - a lofty-windowed cathedral piled high with the detritus of untold generations as far as the eye could see. Broken furniture, cast-off clothing, tattered texts, remains of magical endeavors such as hazardous-looking potions still bubbling ominously - with alleyways to navigate through endless rows piled twice as high as they could reach.

"Oh, my…" breathed Hermione.

"Who did this? And how?" marveled Ginny.

"It's a thousand years of throw-aways," said Ron. "This must be where the house-elves take everything the students leave behind."

"Excellent reasoning, Ron," said Hermione, "except this would probably reflect the age of the castle, so much more than that."

"Then how old is the castle?" asked Ron, "Binns only said it was over a thousand years."

"That's the infuriating thing about Hogwarts, a History - it's very sparse on dates. However, we know that Merlin was a student here and the school was built as a castle to defend itself against the Saxons, so the most likely time was around the fifth or sixth century, but no one knows for sure."

"So fifteen hundred years of refuse?" Ginny said. "There's no telling what we could find here, and some might even be useful. Just look at all the books, Hermione!"

"I see them," she replied, even as she thumbed through an ancient charms textbook with a crumbling spine.

As they wandered through the narrow aisles, Harry remained quiet, searching for a secluded niche to drop the locket where no one would suspect to find it.

They passed a large boxy shape that Harry recognized. "Huh. That's the vanishing cabinet that your brothers shoved Montague into last year."

"Served the git right," said Ron. "He was a terror all round."

They turned a corner and the Elder Wand, which had been making an unholy chorus of both pleasant and unpleasant sounds, began screeching again with the now familiar angry tone that he'd heard from both the locket and his curse scar. Harry pointed it this way and that, eventually settling on an ancient tiara in a battered cupboard.

"Don't touch that," he warned. "It seems to have the same curse as the locket."

"Merlin," said Ginny, "another one? Are you thinking it might blast us with killing curses too?"

"I'd rather not find out. But since they have the same type of curse, it makes sense to leave them together where we can find them."

They all agreed, slipping the locket into a dark corner of the same cupboard. They placed a dusty wig on an old bust of an unknown wizard and set the assembly atop the cupboard to help mark it.

"When we've the time," Ron said, "we need to search this place thoroughly."

"I agree," said Harry, "but that will take ages, and I'm not up for starting today." He gave a thought and the comfortable sitting room formed around them once again.

"The magic in this room is incredible," whispered Hermione.

"Harry?" said Ginny. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he said, breaking out of his thoughts. "This, I think, is going to be the hardest."

"We're all here for you," Ginny comforted, embracing his arm once more.

"Same for us," chorused Ron and Hermione, resuming their positions as well.

"Thanks, all of you." Harry took a deep breath. "So, here goes…"

He turned the ring containing the Resurrection Stone once, twice… three times.

Two glimmering figures in pale robes appeared before the spellbound teens.

Harry stood and stepped towards them, the one almost like a mirror of himself, the woman shorter but standing proudly, both of them wearing expectant smiles full of love and a brimming joyfulness.

"Hi," he said, clearing his throat. "I'm Harry."

The teens gaped at their friend while the woman - covering her mouth with one hand - grabbed her husband's arm with the other, causing him to let out an undignified snort.

James began chuckling, and then everyone was laughing, followed by streams of mirthful tears as they dissolved together into puddles of giddiness.

Finally, they settled enough for James to respond. "Since we're doing introductions, I'm your father, Harry, and this wonderful lady is your mum."

"Harry, my dear Harry," said Lily, "we've missed you so much. This is such a delight to see you in person - and how tall and handsome you've become!"

Harry stood staring at them for a few moments when he felt Ginny's elbow in his ribs. "Oh, Mum and Dad, these are my friends - Ginny, Ron and Hermione."

"Yes, hello, all three of you…" Lily said with warmth.

"We cannot thank you enough," James said, "for being such good friends to our Harry and caring for him when we could not. We owe you a great debt…"

Lily added, "And I wish we could just hug all of you right now!"

The three teens mumbled their thanks; Ron was particularly embarrassed being complimented by the beautiful woman with long auburn hair who looked more like Harry's older sister than his mum.

"Mum, Dad," Harry pleaded, "there's so much I want to say… to ask you… I don't know where to begin…"

"We understand," said Lily. "We're just happy being here."

"We could start with something safe," suggested James, "say the Hallows?"

"Yeah, I reckon that would be okay. Dumbledore said he knew a little, but -"

"He doesn't have the sources we do," said James. "The cloak, for instance, is a Potter family secret. Since you three seem to do everything together with Harry, you are allowed to know this but can never speak of it to anyone. Agreed?"

Ron, Ginny and Hermione all nodded, eager to learn anything they could.

"Harry, I would have told you all this when you turned eleven just as my dad did. You now know that we are descended from Ignotus Peverell, the youngest of the three brothers made famous in that story by Beedle the Bard. Albus was correct in his assumption that Death appearing before them was a fabrication of the Bard. The brothers were, in fact, very talented with magic, especially in charms. They were also very competitive and set up a challenge between them to create their own unique item for the ages. They designed the symbol for their combined projects, which was eventually engraved on the stone. Ignotus was the last to complete his and the other two brothers did not live to see the finished invisibility cloak."

"What happened?"

"They had a small herd of thestrals - the ancestors of those here at Hogwarts - and it took decades for him to harvest enough thestral hair to weave a full-size cloak."

"Thestral hair… of course," murmured Hermione.

"Since we've been on this side, we've met all three - the others are family too - and learned a bit about the other Hallows as well."

"Really? What are they like?"

"Ignotus is a quiet sort, as you might imagine. Antioch is brash, bigger than life - the type who might want a super-powerful wand. He loves to tell about how foolish he was back then, having lost the one thing he spent the best years of his life on just because he couldn't keep his mouth shut."

"A good lesson for all of us," said Ginny, looking pointedly at her brother.

"Cadmus has, I think, the saddest part of the story," continued James, "more so than even the Bard knew. He is intensely passionate and looked for a way to connect the two worlds. To create the Resurrection Stone, he decided it must be a piece broken off the archway that now stands in the Department of Mysteries -"

"The one that supports the Veil?" exclaimed Harry in horror. "Where Sirius died?"

"The very same," said James. "Sadly his wife was assisting, and she got too close. Her last words before being pulled through the Veil were, 'I love you - finish this so I can see you again!'"

"How awful," whispered Ginny, the others struck dumb at the tragic event.

"Again, it took him years to perfect the charms that allow the stone to do what it does. After he completed it and talked with his wife, he set it in that ring and gifted it to their daughter. Satisfied with his accomplishment, he stepped through the Veil himself to join his wife, where they've been happily together ever since."

"So you're saying all's well that ends well?"

"Yes, Harry, he is," said Lily. "The tragedies of the living realm are left behind in this world. That's the beauty of the afterlife - and the hope that it can bring for those living in horrific circumstances."

"But, what about their daughter?" said Harry. "How did she feel, stuck in this world after losing her parents?"

"I'm sure she was included in the discussion, Harry," said James. "She was an adult by then, probably had her own family. Besides, she had the stone and could visit any time."

"Oh, I reckon that makes it alright then," said Harry, becoming agitated. "It's not like seeing you this way is any different than having you in my life, not really, is it? It doesn't matter that I can't touch you, that I don't really know you at all - that it's only the stories from other people and one single memory that I hear whenever a dementor wants to get friendly?"

"Harry!" cried Hermione, "surely you don't mean that - your parents didn't ask to die!"

"We might as well have," said James darkly. "We left too much of our security to others, even when we knew that he would be coming after us. And so foolish in our overconfidence - we didn't even have our wands with us that night."

"I'm so sorry, Dad… Mum…" Harry said, sniffling. "It's just that most of my life I was led to believe you were worse than worthless, and there was no one there, would ever be there…"

"Harry, baby," soothed Lily, "it tore us apart that we had to let you suffer through all that, but even though you couldn't know it, we were there. Through every time they yelled at you, hit you, starved you, overworked you, lied to you, belittled you, locked you up - we were there trying to take it away from you. We cried with you and for you when you couldn't cry anymore."

"Oh, Mum…"

"Sirius and I have been making plans for when we meet anyone named Dursley again -"

"Hush, James," said Lily. "Harry, your father likes to pretend that there is such a thing as vengeance in our world, so don't listen to him. However, if I had the chance to talk to my dear sister again, I would make it very clear the consequences of her actions - just what it is that she has lost."

"What's that?"

"She has missed the opportunity to love - and be loved by - the amazing, wonderful person that is you, my beautiful son."

With his mother's tender words, Harry came to realize the enormity of what was lacking in his childhood - without love, a gaping wound in his very soul - and the weight of it fell upon him like torrents of sand. He slumped to the sofa, weeping in earnest, trying desperately not to break down completely in front of his parents, but his composure was in a losing battle with his rampant emotions.

The girls tried to rub his arms and back, reminding him that he was loved and worthy of love. Ron held on as well, hearing the realities of Harry's early life almost causing him to break down with his best mate.

Lily sank to the floor, kneeled in front of her son, and reached her arms out to him, desperately seeking the physical contact that they had both been missing for much too long. Her hands could only pass through him like a ghost, but both mother and son gasped at the tingling warmth of it.

'Harry," she caressed, "we will always love you, and we will always be with you, through everything you have to do. Will you remember that?"

Harry nodded, searching her eyes, almost like looking into his own, seeing the truth for himself for the very first time.

"Mum…" he choked out, "could you… sing for me… like you used to?"

Lily smiled, knowing exactly what he wanted. And while the others melted into the soothing tones of the lullaby, Harry's mother reprised the melody she hadn't sung since she'd held him in her arms all those years before.

Nights in white satin
Never reaching the end
Letters I've written
Never meaning to send

Beauty I'd always missed
With these eyes before
Just what the truth is
I can't say anymore

'Cause I love you
Yes I love you
Oh how I love you

o