AN: Me reading old me's author notes and laughing at the lack of regard I now have for canon or timelines.
Timelines! *chuckles* That's some funny shit right there.
oOo
"I enjoyed the meetings, too. It was like having friends."
― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince
Chapter 11 - A Question of Love
Dear Mr. Lovegood,
Hi, I'm Luna's friend, Harry. I hope this letter finds you well
I wasn't really sure how to start this letter or how to ask this question but I don't know who else to ask. I think you've heard of the three Hallows from the Beedle the Bard story. I was curious about the Resurrection Stone. If I were to theoretically use it and if I were, theoretically, to see my loved ones, do you think it would really show me my loved ones? I mean do you think my parents or godfather would encourage me to walk to my death even if my death may lead to the Dark Lord's death?
I was wondering if you might have any thoughts on the matter. Thank you for reading and thank you for answering if you decide to.
Warmest Regards,
Harry Potter
oOo
Harry looked down at the letter he had written. It sounded crazy nor was it particularly subtle, and yes, it was probably a question better phrased to Sirius, but Sirius might lie to spare Harry's feelings.
He was betting that Xenophilius might be more interested in the metaphysical aspect of his question than the emotions behind it.
"Hedwig, this is a very dangerous time to be delivering mail, but I am not sure how else to send it," Harry told her as he petted her white feathered head.
She glared at him reproachfully, offended that he thought she couldn't deliver mail.
"Don't look at me like that," Harry chided. "You got injured in the last timeline. Umbridge went after you. You have to be careful."
She stuck her leg out at him. She hooted, demanding he give her the letter.
Harry sighed and tied the letter to her leg, "Be careful, Hedwig, you are beautiful and people can spot you easily. I'll never forgive myself if you get hurt coming back, again."
She nipped his finger, hooted her goodbye then flew out the window.
Harry watched her go, nerves clenching his stomach.
oOo
Father sent me a watercolor painting of a firebug underwater.
Orange and blue.
I sent him back a drawing of a goldfish I made in history class.
Orange and black.
He liked Harry's handwriting. He said that it looks like twigs. Good twigs.
1st of October 1995
L.L.
oOo
"Hermione, Ron, I need to talk to you about something," Harry started.
They were sitting in the common room and the conversation, predictably, didn't go well
Once Harry told them about his advancing into the upper year classes, Hermione ran up to her room.
"Why?" Ron asked sadly.
"I need a change," Harry said, his heart aching, he didn't want to lose Hermione's friendship.
"Why?" Ron repeated.
Harry thought about telling him the truth. Giving Ron the chance to be the good person Harry knew that he was. But Harry couldn't, he would rather have Ron and Hermione hate him than have them know the truth.
Because if they did know the truth and the distance remained between them it would kill something inside of him.
"Why can't you just be happy for me?" Harry asked instead of answering.
"Because the Harry I knew wouldn't blow off Quidditch practice or hurt Hermione's feelings," Ron said.
"If you are talking about this weekend it was because of Snape," Harry defended. This he could tell Ron.
"And what did Snape do to make flying a broom seem like not the best place to be? You were supposed to have time after your lesson with him."
Harry felt his jaw tighten, "He got inside my head and I remembered getting hit with the killing curse."
Ron's eyes widened, "What?"
"I saw it, I remembered, and I didn't live like everybody thinks. The killing curse did kill me, I just didn't stay dead."
"How?" Ron asked. "How is that even possible?"
"Magic?" Harry supplied, because he didn't have another answer.
"Not even magic can bring back the dead, Harry," Ron told him.
"Then how am I still alive?"
"Because you're Harry Potter."
But they both knew that wasn't an answer, Harry was nobody, he was only somebody because whatever his mother did had blown Voldemort apart and not allowed Harry to pass on to the other side.
oOo
Hermione didn't talk to Harry for the remainder of the week and though Ron wasn't mad at him, he stayed close to Hermione's side.
On Thursday, Harry entered the Ravenclaw charms class and Cho descended on him. Fifteen minutes into the class Harry was immensely regretting sitting with Cho and Marietta. Marietta seemed to hate him still and Cho, well Cho would giggle at everything and anything he said. She also kept touching his arm.
Fate was cruel, when he was fifteen her very presence had made his stomach flutter. Now? All he wanted to do was shove her off her seat.
He wasn't sure of a polite way to get her to leave him alone. In fact, the more distant he got with her the more she persisted.
"Harry, you're so good-"
The bell cut her off and Harry made a break for the door. The class itself was enjoyable, he knew these spells but he had yet to perfect them. As Harry went to his Arithmancy he sighed in relief when he sat down at their table.
Astoria and Susan were already there.
"What happened to you?" Astoria asked, eyeing him warily.
More nicely, Susan commented, "You look ruffled."
Harry ran a hand through his hair in agitation, "Cho Chang."
"She's pretty," Susan remarked. "I can't believe she broke up with Cedric though."
Harry winced, "Did she break up with him or did Cedric break up with her?"
"Why would you ask that?" Astoria asked.
"Because," Harry said, "she is bloody annoying. I thought she was shy but noooo- she has to be nearly as clingy as Lavender Brown."
"Lavender isn't clingy and she hates you," Susan said smiling.
Harry bit his cheek, nobody had seen Lavender go out with Ron yet. "How do you get a girl to leave you alone without hurting their feelings?" he asked.
"Telling someone you want them to leave you alone does hurt people's feelings," Luna said as she took her seat across from Harry. "It implies loneliness."
"I don't want Cho to be hurt, I just want her to stop flirting with me," Harry mumbled.
"She can't be that hard to avoid," Astoria remarked. "You what, see her at meals, the halls, and BC? It's not like you have to share a full class with her."
He ducked his head, "I do now, actually."
"What do you mean?" Susan asked.
"I switched into Flitwick's sixth year charms class and into McGonagall's seventh year class."
"Congratulations!" Luna praised, smiling and not so much clapped as patted her hands together. It was an energetic gesture without the noise.
"Thanks, Luna," Harry said, a tightness in his chest easing.
Susan and Astoria followed Luna's lead.
"Yeah, Harry," Susan congratulated. "It is quite an achievement. Students rarely get to advance."
"I was advanced in Arithmancy," Astoria pointed out, "Of course, this is my favorite subject."
"Really?" Susan asked dryly. "You don't seem to enjoy yourself much."
"It's all butterflies and rainbows on the inside, Bones," Astoria replied stoically.
Susan rolled her eyes, "What did Hermione and Ron say to you about switching out of their classes to advance?"
"Ron thinks I am being selfish to hurt Hermione's feelings," Harry said.
Astoria and Susan snorted in unison.
"What?" he asked.
"Ron Weasley being emotionally sensitive?" Susan repeated.
"The irony runs deep, Potter," Astoria said.
"You don't even know him," Harry said to the younger Slytherin.
"Everyone knows Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger," Susan stated.
"You say it like they're the famous ones," Harry remarked.
"They are famous because you are," Luna said wistfully.
"They are also louder than you are," Susan pointed out.
Astoria answered Harry's confused expression, "You're so quiet but everyone is always watching and listening to you. Yet typically all we hear is what Granger and Weasley say or have to say about you. The whole school only knows you through them, well, aside from your performances on the Quidditch pitch and the end of year stories about the Dark Lord, dementors, and Basilisks. Last year with the dragon was the first time we as a group saw you in action, naturally, you were on a broom again."
Harry really wanted to say 'You should see what happens in the next three years,' but settled for, "You're saying the whole school just knows me through secondary sources."
"Sometimes 37th, some of the books they published before you got to Hogwarts were quite outrageous, Father published a few articles that discredited many of the books printed about you," Luna pronounced.
"Well if a Lovegood says a book is made up you know the thing is worthless," Astoria said, face set.
Harry couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic or not.
"Harry, the thing we are all trying to say is that you're famous but nobody knows you personally or even outwardly because you are pretty shy," Susan explained.
The Chosen One, Harry flinched at the thought, famous for my parents being murdered. Chosen for slaughter, to be the martyr so others might live on and win the day.
And nobody knew me, just the Boy Who Lived, and the martyr.
"Harry," Luna called softly, her voice bringing him out of his thoughts.
Susan touched his shoulder and he startled so hard he nearly fell off his cushion.
"Where is the Professor?" Harry asked, trying to cover up his reaction as he resettled in his seat. Harry looked around him, "And where are the rest of the students?"
"Class was canceled today," Astoria informed him.
"Professor Vector had to go see her sister for some reason," Susan added.
Harry blinked, "So what are we doing here?"
"The three of us thought it would be a good time to have our study group that you mentioned," Luna said, still focusing on him with the full weight of her awareness.
"Oh," Harry said. "Okay, um, guess it is as good a time as any. Where do you guys want to start? All three of you know more than me so I can't really teach this subject."
Astoria grinned, "The teacher shall become the pupil."
Harry narrowed his eyes at her, "Why does that sound like a threat?"
Luna giggled.
"Harry?" Susan interrupted, "What did Hermione say about you moving ahead of her?"
"She hasn't said anything yet," Harry answered.
"She doesn't know how else to be," Luna said gently.
"What are you babbling about?" Astoria snipped.
"Hermione, she doesn't know her worth other than to be the smartest, without the books she doesn't think she's worth much. She's wrong, she just doesn't know it yet," Luna explained.
"Hermione's brilliant," Harry defended.
"So are you," Susan said.
"Hermione has saved my life more than once."
"And in time she'll understand that your friendship means more to her than her abilities," Luna consoled, meeting Harry's gaze with a kindness that made Harry's heart clench.
A little strained, he said, "Guess we better get started with the Arithmancy homework?"
The three girls smiled -in Astoria's case smirked, and pulled out their books. The group of four did indeed get their homework, along with figuring out how to charge a numbered circle. At this rate, Professor Vector might have to advance all of them as the joint effort of a student from each house offered a potent measure of magical potential.
oOo
Dear, Dearest Mister Harry James Potter,
I cannot express how pleased I am to hear from you nor how happy I am that you are friends with my Luna.
As to your inquiries, there are many theories but I will share with you the one I feel to be most worthy of thought.
Say the Beedle the Bard is the complete tale.
The Elder Wand was powerful enough to defeat any but Death himself. Yet the way such a wand was passed on was through the murdering of the original owner. Humans, magical and non-magical alike are prone to killing each other, mostly out of greed. Unless the wielder of the Elder Wand could remain awake all the time and knew enough to use the wand, the owner would eventually be killed, as power without the means to use it is without purpose. So Death was able to guarantee the early demise of anyone who owns such a wand, hence why it is sometimes referred to as the Death Stick. Death, because it brings death, Stick because what is, a wand that cannot be wielded, leaving it a fancy stick. The power of the wand does not define the power of the wielder.
The Invisibility Cloak is by far the most usable of the Hallows, its safety in use relies on the factor that Death thought that no one would hide under a blanket for the rest of eternity just to escape him. Afterall, what is a life worth if you live it in hiding? It spared Ignotus from an early death but it never posed much of a concern for 'defeating' death. One way or another, death finds us in the end. Or we find Death ourselves.
The Resurrection Stone is in all likelihood the most twisted of the Hallows. It offers the promise of regaining what can never be regained, not in this life. Some say it brings back the dead, but I rather think it shows us a glimpse into Death's realm. Our loved ones may be waiting for us, but we know that they cannot be in our world again as they were once. Ghosts are mere shadows of the people they were in life. A ghost is little better than a painting.
Yet I believe that the Resurrection Stone cannot even do that much. The stone doesn't bring people back, not even as ghosts. The Stone uses our memories and our imaginations to create phantoms who will say and do anything to bring us to Death willingly. Like drinking deep of sweet poison, the second brother was made to kill himself. It was the price for asking the impossible and attempting to take from Death what can never be taken back.
I am not sure if you have encountered the Hallows or not. I would advise that you not use the stone if you have it. But I shall not make assumptions of my daughter's friends, though I will end this letter with a final thought.
The symbols of the three Hallows; the triangle, the line, and the circle together is not a symbol of mastering Death as many have come to believe. Rather it is a symbol of overcoming the fear of death, overcoming the fear of physical pain, and overcoming the desire to live without loss. The Hallows serve as a lesson that we can never master Death, but that we may come to master ourselves.
I wish you all the very best, Harry. Do treat my daughter well.
Yours Truly,
Xenophilius Lovegood
P.S. Burn this letter so the Nargles don't get it.
oOo
Harry kissed the top of Hedwig's head. She was uninjured, Thank Merlin. Harry had nearly panicked when she had come to him in his Astronomy class.
He was currently cuddling her on his lap as he reread the letter for the dozenth time that night by the fireplace.
Harry hadn't known Hedwig liked to cuddle this much but since returning to the past Hedwig seemed to feel his need for closeness. Though thinking back to Susan's light touch on his arm and Cho's bothersome proximity in Charm's class, maybe closeness was a selective thing.
Harry wasn't sure what to make of Xenophilius's words. Though in all honesty, the man's reasoning was a hundred per cent more logical than Dumbledore's explanation of love when Harry had asked how he had survived the killing curse. It was extremely logical that the phrase "Master of Death" was a metaphor. Yet Harry wondered about his time travelling when he had technically owned all three Hallows and used none of them when the end had come.
End.
What end was there for Harry? He had died twice and his spirit/soul whatever had been brought back three years in the past after his second death to re-live everything. Though he wasn't exactly re-living, he was just living, everything was changing whether he was moving forward in 1998 or 1995. He was still moving forward.
It wasn't an answer exactly, but Harry felt better about the time travel with that thought, that yes he had and yes he was changing things that were beyond his knowledge. There was comfort in the unknown, as long as the unknown didn't include Voldemort coming back to full power or Death Eaters breaking out of prison.
Harry sighed and reread the letter.
If Xenophilius was right, then the people who had emerged from the stones were not his parents, not Sirius, they were reflections of Harry's deepest fears and desires.
Hadn't his boggart turned into his mother? His beautiful mother who he would never know, hadn't she beckoned him to join her, to die?
Was Harry afraid to die? Or was he afraid he wanted to die? Or was what he feared most of all was that the woman who had given her life for his, the mother who had loved him more than anything else in this world, wanted him dead too?
That was not an answer Xenophilius had kindly provided. Harry realised that no matter how many times he looked over the logical letter, there was nothing more Harry could glean from it. He wanted Hermione to read it, he wanted her opinion, but she had taken one look at him sitting in the common room and fled to her room. Even if Harry asked Ginny to go get her or even if he took his broom and went up himself, Harry doubted Hermione would want to help him right now.
With one last glance at the letter, he threw the parchment into the fire.
Hedwig hooted and hopped onto his shoulder, biting his ear before nuzzling his cheek.
Silly bird, Harry thought with a grin, as he lifted a hand to rub below her beak.
oOo
Remus Lupin was watching Sirius Black closely as the man re-read his godson's letter over and over again.
"Is it a very long letter?" Remus finally asked after nearly two hours.
"No," Sirius said, before turning and slamming the letter on the table. "No, it is not a very long letter, in fact, it is a very short letter." With one hand he pulled on his long curls.
"May I?" Remus asked.
"Go ahead," Sirius said. "There is nothing in it."
Remus pulled the letter forward, "Sirius, this is two full pages."
"I don't care if it were a hundred paged letter. There's nothing in it."
Remus read the first paragraph.
I talked with Dumbledore, he says I should make up with Ron and Hermione. We haven't hung out lately. I got moved up in Flitwick's sixth class and moved up two years in Transfiguration. However, I think I am stronger in Charms.
The rest of the letter detailed his classes.
"Sirius," Remus slowly, "there is a lot of information in this letter."
"No," he said. "It's empty, impersonal."
"He talked to Dumbledore."
"Yes, and what did he write about it? What did he have to say about the old man who he was practically afraid of and seemed to detest this summer? That Dumbledore wanted him to be closer to his two best friends? What's wrong with them that Dumbledore felt the need to step in? What did Harry detail about his classes? The types of spells and the number of essays he's doing? Nothing about how he feels or his friends or anything of any substance. Something is wrong, Remus."
"Sirius," Remus cajoled, "You're reading too much into this."
"No, I'm not," Sirius growled.
"Harry is a strong-"
"He's Lily, Remus. Harry is exactly like his mother, if a bit more forgiving."
"I thought you had placed him as James's replacement."
"No one can replace James. And I thought you said he had Lil's kindness."
"He does but he's as prone to danger as James was," Remus reasoned.
"James sought out danger," Sirius corrected. "Harry doesn't, well not to make trouble like we did anyway. Besides, Lily was just as prone to danger."
"No, she wasn't. Lily always played it safe."
Sirius rolled his eyes, "She was a muggle-born whose best friend was a Death Eater. Safe my shaggy rear-end. She didn't get close to you until after James told her you were a werewolf."
"That's not true, she figured it out-"
"No, she didn't. We didn't just smuggle you out at night when it was the night of the full moon. Unlike your teaching miss adventures, in school, we were sneaking out all the time, not just for your time of the month."
"But my sickness-"
"James told her in our fourth year we used you to practice potions on you."
Remus blinked, "She believed you?"
"Did she believe James and I would do something so dangerous and stupid? Of course she did," Sirius said.
Remus shook his head, "What does any of this have to do with Harry?"
"James used to complain about Lily doing this all the time. When she was really upset she would hide behind work and research."
"She was in the Order right after Hogwarts and was a stay at home mom soon enough after that. She wouldn't have much time to research."
Sirius huffed a laugh, "Research was what Lily did for the Order, Moony. Apparently, before sixth year Snivellus showed her some pretty dark or at least ancient texts. She got a taste for it."
"I am good at research," Remus said quietly.
"You were also good in a fight and are a werewolf, Dumbledore has a soft spot for muggleborns, he was protective of her."
"Not as much as James was," Remus said.
"Of course not, and that was a part of Lily being reserved for research, James would have been useless if he had to worry about Lily on the battlefield, her skill with a wand aside."
"Lily and James were excellent duellists, yet Voldemort was able to tear them down."
Sirius's shoulders tightened to the point of aching, "They didn't have their wands, I don't know why but I didn't see them there. Yet it was Lily's magic that crippled the bastard."
"It was Harry-"
Sirius snorted, "Don't tell me you bought into that rubbish? The Dark Lord defeated by a baby? Please, plenty of mothers have died for their babes at wand point and the babes have died after them all the same. No, Lily was a master in Charms and in Arithmancy, whatever magic she used spared Harry and blew Voldemort to pieces."
Remus was quiet for a long while.
Sirius paced back and forth in front of the firelight.
"What do you think is wrong with Harry?" Remus asked finally.
Sirius sagged to the carpet and put his back against a wall of shelves. "I don't know, Moony, but I have to see him soon. I think he needs me."
"You need him," Remus said softly.
Sirius closed his eyes, images of Lily's towering temper and radiant warmth, James's boisterous laugh and his pleased yet nervous expression every time he held Harry in his arms appeared just out of reach in his mind's eye. And Harry, little Harry whose second word after Mamo had been Pad-oo; Padfoot. The child who Sirius had seen for the first time in thirteen years had been running away from home, whose fear never outweighed his compassion. The boy who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. Harry, who wanted to be loved as much as he was extraordinarily able to love others. The person who had pulled Sirius out of the darkness.
"Yeah, I do need him."
oOo
AN: Thoughts, spotted dolphins, or reactions, pretty please?