Chapter Two
A Phoenix From the Ashes
With neither flourish nor fanfare, an impossible landscape appeared before him.
Even though he'd seen it many times before, the scene he beheld was still disconcerting. His mind — wrapped as it still was in purely physical notions of cause and effect, gravity, and unchanging laws of physics and magic — reeled at the impossibilities arrayed before him. Improbable rock formations overlooked exotic, patchwork meadows of multicolored grass. Waterfalls fell downward, upward and sideways in dizzying, swirling combinations of reds, greens, purples and other colors that he had no name for. Two brilliant suns adorned the deep purple sky and to his right, the world simply ended, falling away as a jewel-encrusted cliff face with the sky wrapping around below him. A third sun looked up from below. All of it was set against a backdrop of glittering red, yellow and white stars that should not have been visible in the daylight, and yet were.
Leave it to Albus Dumbledore to conjure such a fantastical background for his Space.
He looked up from the stone plinth, the entry point, that stood beside the edge of the world. High above him, built upon a jagged, glittering amethyst that floated above the perfectly still lake, was Albus' home. It, too, was as nonsensical as the landscape it was built upon. Seven stone towers arrayed in no recognizable pattern stood suspended over the jewel, each rising higher than the last — and only the lowest actually touched the crystalline foundation. Delicate stone buttresses and catwalks connected them together in ways that must surely collapse under their own weight.
They certainly would have in his Space. But Dumbledore's reputation for brilliance was well-deserved, and anyone who did not know better would have thought he had been living in the Afterverse for centuries, rather than just two decades.
He spared a glance at the spindly, delicate spiral staircase that climbed, from a precipice overlooking the lake, hundreds of feet to the base of the first tower. A staircase he had climbed only once. Never again.
With a thought, he rose into the air as though his body were weightless — which, of course, it really was. The body around him was mere perception and weighed whatever he wanted it to. One of the earliest lessons of the Afterverse. He bypassed the front door and rose even higher, settling at last onto the catwalk that connected to the highest room of the tallest tower. A few brief steps carried him to the solid purple door, which melted away at his touch. He was always welcome here.
Stepping inside, he felt the relief of more comfortable, sensible and familiar surroundings. It looked much like the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts. Larger, yes. More ornate, of course. But still comfortably familiar. There were even conjured illusions of the headmasters' portraits. Though Albus had made such great strides in freeing his mind of the constraints of the physical, he clearly nursed a lingering nostalgia for the life he'd had before.
Albus, standing behind a familiar desk, looked toward the door, and the others standing around it turned as well.
"Ahh, Severus."
Severus Snape ascended the steps to the raised platform at the center of the office. In the years since his own death, he had worked hard to let go of old hurts. Old anger. Still, as he joined their company, he had to force himself to greet the men before him kindly. He worked to hide his dislike for their familiar faces. They all looked much as they had when they attended Hogwarts together, when their rivalry and mutual hatred had been strongest.
He shook James Potter's hand first, meeting his gaze with a forced smile. James' smile seemed equally unconvincing. Oddly, civility between them had been established fastest — he supposed because they had been separated by death for so much longer. Sirius Black and Remus Lupin kept their handshakes brief, and spared him no smiles. Despite his pivotal role in bringing down the Dark Lord, forgiveness was still coming slowly. In truth, he felt identically. Fortunately, the last of Albus' guests greeted him with enthusiasm. Lily Potter threw her arms around him and squeezed him tightly.
"Thank you for coming, Sev."
He nodded. "Albus' summons seemed urgent."
"As urgent as anything can be when time has no meaning, Severus," Albus said. "I found him."
Their present company was instantly forgotten. He fixed his gaze on Albus. His beard was auburn, his face almost youthful. Severus had never seen him so young, at least not in life, but he was getting used to the man's customary appearance now.
"The Dark Lord?"
Albus nodded. "Yes. He's here, in the Afterverse. It appears that though he was unable to cross over on his own, his vengeful victims pulled him the rest of the way across for the purpose of punishing him."
"My mother mentioned some of her friends bragging about punishing him. We assumed they'd conjured some simulacrum."
"Yes, he's been here for some time," Albus said. "His soul is so weak, due to fragmentation, that he is completely powerless. His Space is precisely what his tormentors chose it to be and he is unable to alter it, or even to move about on his own."
"Fitting."
Albus hesitated a moment, keeping his eyes fixed on Severus. "I'm going to try and help him, Severus."
"What?" Such was his shock that, in his peripheral vision, he saw his hands, cloak and robes instantly turn white. A focused thought returned them to normal.
"I am going to try and locate the fragments of his soul and put him back together."
"Albus, he isn't worth the effort," Severus said. "He deserves the fate he made for himself."
Stepping forward, Lily placed her hands on the desk. Severus was learning to accept that she would never love him as she loved her husband, but their friendship was quickly returning. Her expression for Dumbledore was quite serious.
"You know that James and I will support you in whatever you decide, Albus," she said. "We trust your judgment, but regardless of whether you think he deserves a chance, is it even possible?"
"Just because no one ever tried, does not mean it is not possible," Dumbledore said. "It is possible in life for a split soul to be restored, even if the process itself can result in death. In that case, it should be possible here, after death."
"Only Harry has the right to decide whether this should be attempted," James Potter said. "We should wait for him."
Severus resisted the urge to argue against the man he had hated in life. Letting go of such things was still difficult. He reluctantly nodded agreement.
"Do you truly believe, after everything he accomplished and did, that Harry would be capable of the kind of hate required to condemn any man to that fate for eternity?" Albus replied. "I am certain, beyond a doubt, that Harry will agree that he should be given the chance. Witness their final confrontation. . . ."
He gestured, and the formless mist of the Afterverse rose up out of the desk and became a crisp vision of the youthful Harry Potter facing off against the Dark Lord. "It's your one last chance," The simulacrum of Potter said, "it's all you've got left. . . . I've seen what you'll be otherwise. . . . Be a man. . . . try. . . Try for some remorse. . . ." The scene dissolved back into white smoke as quickly as it had formed.
". . . .even then, Harry tried to convince him to repent."
"My question, Albus, is whether we can trust Riddle at all?" Lupin asked, leaning against one of the many pillars encircling the ornate office Dumbledore had created for himself. "He was one of the most brilliant and evil wizards in history. Restore him, make him whole, and suppose he finds a way to start a reign of terror, even here where such a thing has never been attempted!"
"No, Remus," Albus said. "The very nature of that restoration would require absolute and genuine repentance to be successful. The success of the endeavor would prove that he was worthy of the attempt. If he is unworthy or unrepentant, I will not succeed."
"We, Albus," Lily said. "You will not be alone in this. I will help you, even if none of the others will."
Potter and Lupin nodded, as did Black, but Severus took a step back. "I am sorry, Albus, but I am not ready for this. You will undertake this without my assistance. I do not have it in me to forgive him. I will not impede your attempt, though I am sure that others will try."
"I know that some will attempt to stop me," Albus said. "Which is why I'm trusting all present to keep this between ourselves."
Severus hesitated, then said, "Very well. I shall speak of this to no one."
He turned to leave, but made no attempt to hurry out.
"I move that the Order of the Phoenix be reborn, then," Albus said to the others. "It's new purpose, not to oppose Voldemort, but to restore Tom Riddle's soul."
As Severus touched again the purple door, which melted away, he heard the others agree. Reluctantly, perhaps, but they agreed.
"Where will you begin?" Lily asked.
"That. . . . is a very good question."
And then the door shut behind him. He stared at it briefly, hesitating. He wanted to reconsider. He wanted to agree. But he couldn't. With a thought, he instantly returned to his own Space.