Chapter 2 – The Parting

"Mum? Dad?" Harry gasped.

Looming above him were the faces of his parents, whom he'd lost at only a year and a half old.

His mother, Lily, with her thick, dark red hair and almond shaped eyes; and his father, James, with the same messy black hair as his son, but with wayfarer glasses and hazel eyes.

He wasn't certain if he was really seeing them or if this was just a dream. He did, however, no longer feel tired.

"Yes Harry," Lily confirmed. "It's us… You've come back to us."

Harry's mind felt a surge of happiness as he quickly leaned up and both parents pulled him into a tight family hug. His mother gently rubbed circles around his back and his father casually ruffled his hair.

"Oh, my boy…" James whispered. "My wonderful, brave boy…"

"I can't believe how you've grown," Lily cried.

"And we are both very, very proud of you," James added. "We have been watching you and everything you've achieved ever since we got here."

"Really?" Harry gasped with a sad smile.

"Really," James confirmed. "Imagine my son, the youngest seeker in a century!"

"And…" Lily interjected, a bit more sternly. "My son, taking on the whomping willow, every magical creature in Scamander's book, mastering the Patronus charm at only thirteen years old, and facing Voldemort four times in a row, and living to tell the tale!"

Naturally, the presence of his mother, Harry felt quite abashed by how she pointed out all that.

"Of course we're proud of you," Lily smiled. "Nothing happens to my son without me knowing…"

"Ahem," James interrupted, trying too hard to look cross.

"Yes, yes, James," Lily teased. "Your son too…"

She ruffled her husband's hair before he tried to tap her on the center of her nose. They stayed in their hug for quite some time before Lily and James stopped to get a good look at their son again.

They were still smiling, but Harry's smile began to falter a bit. He sensed that he didn't feel his mind's happiness trickle down and take over his body.

"What is it, sweetheart?" Lily asked.

Perhaps it was because he had quite a few questions for the both of them.

"Where exactly is 'here'?" He queried. "How are you both here? How did I get here? And… what is that?"

He pulled away from his parents and gestured to something curled into a ball, lying underneath a bench behind them. It looked exactly like Voldemort's remains before Pettigrew revived him.

"Let's walk," James suggested, pulling Harry to his feet. "It's probably the first time in awhile we get to do this as a family…"

He threw an arm around Harry's shoulder, Lily placed her hand into Harry's, as they led him over to the bench where the thing was suffering.

Harry crouched to his feet, poked his head under the bench, and reached out a hand for the thing.

"I'm afraid, you can't help it, darling," Lily interrupted.

"What is it?" Harry wondered.

"That appears to be another part of Voldemort sent here to die," James answered. "We've seen one of these enter this realm before…"

"This realm?" Harry repeated, pulling his head back out.

"Look around you, Harry," Lily suggested, dragging him back up. "Where do you think we are? Maybe someplace where parents say goodbye to their young witches and wizards? Some goodbyes we haven't been able to experience together?"

Harry glanced around. They were walking on some kind of platform supported by columns, between large crevices. But a large circular clock looming above them seemed to indicate the answer.

"This looks sort of like… King's Cross Station," Harry noted. "Only cleaner… and without all the trains."

"Exactly," Lily confirmed with a proud smile. "Although there are trains here…"

"But why are we all here?" Harry pressed. "And why don't I feel tired anymore?"

"They call this place The Parting…" James explained, with hesitation. "It's where people's souls come to when they've been severed from their bodies."

"You mean, we're all dead?" Harry presumed.

He'd wanted to be reunited with his parents, but not exactly parted from them until death.

"Your father and I are," Lily specified. "You aren't… not yet."

"Not yet?" Harry questioned, raising an eyebrow. "Has this got anything to do with… why Voldemort couldn't kill me? When Mum sacrificed herself for me?"

Harry paused, for he couldn't believe he'd thought to ask a question like that. Usually, some outside force would have compelled him to.

"Exactly, Prongslet," James confirmed, taking his son by the chin. "When he first tried to kill you, he'd transferred a bit of his soul to you."

"Wizards can do that?" Harry asked with a shocked expression. "I knew he transferred some of his powers to me, but his soul?"

"Yes dear," Lily confirmed with a sad nod. "Not intentionally, but in doing so, he turned you into something called a Horcrux."

Harry immediately took a glance back at the thing under the bench, like he was working something out faster than he would have before.

"Then, that's what that thing is?" he suggested. "A horcrux! But what is a Horcrux, exactly?"

"It's a nasty, dark form of magic, Harry," Lily explained gravely. "In which a Wizard fragments his soul and stores it in a valuable object."

"But why?" Harry insisted.

"Well," James continued. "As you know, if a wizard dies, his soul is severed from his body completely… But if he had an extra fragment stored somewhere…"

Harry started to think, but suddenly he recalled the end of his first year, when Dumbledore visited him in the Hogwarts infirmary. After the Philosopher's Stone had been destroyed, he'd asked Dumbledore if Voldemort was gone for good.

"He is still out there somewhere, perhaps looking for another body to share… not being truly alive, he cannot be killed," Dumbledore had answered.

"…he could return somehow!" Harry reasoned.

"Precisely, darling," Lily complimented. "And the only way one can destroy a Horcrux is to destroy the object holding it."

"So, it's dead, then?" He reiterated. "The horcrux in me?"

"It is, son," James confirmed. "Voldemort destroyed it the minute you were hit with the killing curse."

Harry felt an incredible ease sweep over his mind, but throughout this whole moment, his body had been completely in that state. He ran his hand over his forehead to see how his scar felt. But to his surprise, he barely felt it there.

"Is that why my scar's kept hurting all my life?" Harry asked.

"We expect so," Lily replied. "But I'm afraid don't know the full extent of it, darling."

Harry shrugged, feeling only a trifle of disappointment. He was sure he'd find the answer to this on his own, but he still had other questions.

He took another peek back at the dead horcrux under the bench.

"You said you saw another horcrux come through here?" Harry noted.

"Just two years ago, Prongslet," James explained. "When you destroyed Tom Riddle's diary."

"Anymore?" Harry requested.

"None we haven't seen yet," Lily replied. "We're sure there might be more. Although what you did then was incredibly brave… and incredibly foolish, even compared to your father… had we been alive, I would have considered punishing you for it."

"Considered?" Harry teased, without a hint of disbelief.

"Never mind, Prongslet," James dismissed.

He pulled his son into another hug, before Lily pulled Harry away, like he belonged to her alone. When she loosened her grip, Harry pulled out of her hug.

"Anyway," she began. "You said you thought this place looked like King's Cross, and I said there were trains here."

"Yes," Harry confirmed cautiously. "And where would they take you?"

"On," James replied. "Onto the next great adventure, where all other souls travel when their owners meet their end."

"Is that where we're going?" Harry asked.

"We are, your father and I," Lily answered. "We'd love for you to join us… We came to see you again when you were hit with the curse."

They were interrupted by the blowing of a train whistle. To their left, Harry noticed a silhouette in the shape of a steam engine approaching them, rolling up the left crevice. Hanging from a post on the edge was a sign, reading ON.

But over his right shoulder, Harry noticed another signpost facing the other crevice, which was suspiciously blank. Until the word BACK suddenly faded upon it.

"What about that one?" He asked, gesturing to the sign.

His parents took a glance at the sign, looking quite furrowed at its appearance.

"How curious," Lily commented almost innocently. "That wasn't there when we arrived here."

"Where do you suppose it goes?" James suggested, giving his son a teasing look.

Harry opened his mouth but stopped himself from answering. He knew what the answer had to be, but he didn't want to give it out loud. He had quite an idea of what his parents were goading him into but didn't want to go through with it.

When they wouldn't let go of their expressions, Harry exhaled.

"If one goes on, then the other must go back," he resolved. "But why do I need to? I got hit by the killing curse, my family's waiting for me, lots of people probably go through this…"

James placed another arm around his son's shoulders and shrugged.

"Well, that's definitely true," He agreed. "But it seems to me, there are others out there who care about you…"

"Like your friends, Ron and Hermione," Lily pointed out. "Fred and George, Ginny, Cedric, your godbrother, Neville…"

"Wait, Neville's my godbrother?" Harry gasped.

"He is," James confirmed. "And let's not forget your godfather, Sirius, he could do with your help. Not to mention Remus and your other professors…"

"And there are even more people you haven't seen since you were a baby," Lily concluded. "We would have loved for them to take care of you, after what happened to us and Sirius."

Harry was about to ask who those others were, until another train whistle blew. It must have been for the BACK train, since its silhouette was pulling down the other crevice in the opposite direction to the ON train.

Both trains stopped simultaneously, the doors on the passenger cars opening by themselves. Harry glanced down both tracks at each train, but strangely he spotted no conductors or baggage handlers or even passengers stepping off.

In fact, there was no sign of life anywhere on either of these trains.

He took one last look at his parents, who merely grinned in return.

"The choice is yours, Harry," James reminded him. "Go ahead."

"But just remember," Lily added. "That whichever choice you make, we're still your parents… we love you, we respect your decision, and we'll always be watching you…"

Harry smiled nervously; his mind was overjoyed that his parents would tell him that. Too many parents he knew on the other side were unsupportive, and he was afraid that he'd let his parents down.

But all of a sudden, another question he asked Dumbledore in the infirmary popped into his head.

"Wait a minute," Harry requested. "Professor Dumbledore wouldn't tell me why Voldemort went after us… Do you know?"

As Harry expected, Lily's face became concerned by this particular question. She glanced at James, who nodded back, almost as if they were planning how to explain this.

"Harry…" she began. "I'm not even sure how Dumbledore would have explained this to you… but right before you were born, a prophecy was made… and she who made it is working as your Divination teacher…"

"Professor Trelawney?" Harry puzzled. "But she doesn't exactly have the knack for it."

"That's what we all thought," James admitted. "But apparently, when the prophecy seemed to come true, she was brought onto the school."

Harry couldn't help but wonder what Hermione would say about that. But he had no time to wonder too long.

"Exactly what did this prophecy say?" Harry asked urgently.

"I'll tell you the first half," Lily offered. "Voldemort only heard the first three lines. Your father will give you the second…"

She inhaled deeply, then cleared her throat, and spoke,

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…

Born to those who have thrice defied him,

Born as the seventh month dies…"

And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal,

She nodded at James, who scratched his head before continuing,

"But he must have the power the Dark Lord knows not…

And either must die at the hand of the other,

For neither can live while the other survives…

The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord…"

"Will be born as the seventh month dies," Lily finished with him.

She hung her head as she finished the last line, but perked up again when James took her by the hand.

Harry, however, was staring at the palms of his hands, trying to think of how Trelawney did it.

"So, he wanted to kill me because I was somehow destined to defeat him from the minute I was born?" He concluded.

"Mmm-hmm," Lily confirmed. "Besides us and Trelawney, only Professor Dumbledore know it's the whole thing."

"Your work isn't quite finished, you know," James added. "Even if you go back, you won't have to do it by yourself…"

Harry felt like an utter fool. His desire for a normal life or a normal year at Hogwarts was nothing more than wishful thinking

"Your choice will never disappoint us, Harry," Lily promised again. "But I do think it would disappoint all those others who love you, if you gave up a chance to live on with them…"

"There's a whole lot more you can accomplish with them…" James reminded him. "To become Quidditch Captain or a Prefect or even Head Boy… To finish Hogwarts… To have an exciting job… Maybe even to love and be loved?"

The last example James offered sounded quite broad. But again, Harry remembered yet another piece of advice Dumbledore had given him in his first year,

"It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live…"

"If I go back, can't you come with me?" Harry asked, although he could sense what the answer was.

"Once a soul is severed from its body, it can't re-enter, Harry," Lily sadly replied. "It wasn't your soul that was severed, remember. It was Voldemort's."

"We can only go as far as here," James added. "To welcome new souls on."

Harry was becoming quite irritated that Dumbledore and even his parents were dashing many of his hopes to pieces. But the whistle for the ON train blew again, and he was feeling tempted him to take it.

"We came here for you tonight, Harry, and if you go back, we'll still be waiting for you when your time comes…" James reminded him.

This was perhaps the first promise Harry had ever heard that someone could keep for him. As the whistle for the BACK train blew again, he had an idea of what he was going to do.

Harry took another glance at the BACK train, which seemed to give his parents the answer, when he faced them both one last time.

"You'll still be watching me?" He pleaded.

"Yes love," Lily answered softly. "Always…"

"It's what any parent does, Prongslet," James reminded him.

Harry's parents stood up and walked him over to the BACK train, which was ringing its bell. Just before he boarded, they pulled him into one last family hug.

"Give Padfoot our love, son," James requested. "Tell him we've missed him, and to find a girl and go back to living without us…"

"And Remus too," Lily requested. "He's spent too much time wallowing in self-pity."

"I will," Harry promised.

His mother kissed him upon the cheek, while his father did the same to his temple.

"We love you, Harry…" Lily told him.

"Both your mother and I," James finished.

Harry froze a bit before he opened his mouth; this was the first time he'd ever heard anyone tell him, personally and aloud, that they'd loved him.

His mind was overjoyed, but his eyes were generating no tears.

"I love you too," Harry softly replied.

As he stepped aboard the train, he chose the closest compartment to where his parents were standing. They were still standing in the same spot, waving to him, like they were sending him off to Hogwarts for the first time.

Harry pressed his nose against the windowpane, waving back as the train began puffing. He kept waving until they were out of sight; this more than made up for all of the times they'd missed taking him to Platform 9 ¾ to board the Hogwarts Express.

As he was losing sight of the station platform, things suddenly started to darken, like going through a tunnel.

If dying meant everything turned white, then this must have meant falling asleep. Particularly because Harry suddenly felt himself getting tired.

He'd forgotten to ask why his body didn't feel anything in the parting, but now he was too overtaken by his comfortable seat to care.