Chapter Sixty Two

Harry took several deep breaths, slightly surprised that breathing was even still possible. He also wasn't on the forest floor, it wasn't the rough, damp leaves, mud and twigs at all.

Instead it was hard and cold, slightly rough in texture, like a road or footpath.

He was totally naked but there was no noise around him, something slightly unsettling in itself, and he wasn't in any pain. Which was another pleasant surprise.

Harry slowly reached his fingers out, wiggling them for a moment before stretching his legs and rotating his ankles.

Everything seemed to be working, or at least felt like it was working, as normal.

Harry felt his lips curl upwards into a smile at the thought of 'normal'. Normal wasn't something that existed any more. He was dead.

Dead but not gone, he had to be somewhere after all. Maybe he could find a new normal, where ever he was now.

Slowly, very slowly, Harry risked opening his eyes, scared of what he might see. Everything around him was very pale, almost completely white really, like a washed out photo caught in the rain, but he knew exactly where he was.

"Chester zoo." he said, softly looking around the familiar statues and pathways.

The steps down to the boat were nearby, the overhead monorail over in the other direction. Harry became aware of a noise nearby and wished he wasn't so exposed.

Instantly a pile of robes appeared on a picnic bench, just within reach. Harry grabbed them and pulled them on, running a hand through his hair before pulling himself to his feet.

He felt normal, everything responded the way it had before. The only noticeable difference was the fact his bruises and bumps had vanished. He's skin was perfect, even the normal aches he had from passed battles and playing Quidditch all his childhood were gone.

Harry slowly reached his hand up to his forehead and felt over the smooth skin, his lightening scar was gone.

Harry might not have been in pain, but someone nearby was.

The noises of pain and a creature struggling to breath drifted over to where Harry was. He walked quickly over, the part of his mind that always wanted to help and sounded like his mother rushing to the front of his thoughts. Harry stopped suddenly and gasped.

A small, toddler sized, person was laying on the ground. It had no skin, specks of blood brightly dotting the ground it lay on.

Harry reached down towards the child like thing, wondering what one earth he could do to help it, when there was another rustle behind him.

"Hey Harry."

Harry spun round and felt his mouth fall open, "Dad…"

James smiled at him and opened his arms. Harry didn't hesitate before running into them, feeling his father's warm chest against his own for the first time in nearly sixteen years, as a sob rose in his throat.

"Shh." James said softly, "Now really isn't the time for tears."

Harry let out a strange mix between a sob and a laugh, wiping his nose on his sleeve as he pulled away from his father.

James was dressed very much like Harry was, in simple, dark red robes. Harry wondered if his father had the same tastes as he did in other things as well.

"What are you…" Harry didn't know where to start.

"I imagine you have a lot of questions, I know I would. I can try and answer as many as I can." James smiled and guided Harry over to a picnic bench, sitting down next to one another, "There was quite a scuffle over who would come and see you. Dumbledore thought he should have the honour but… well, I wasn't so sure you'd want to see him."

Harry's face hardened, "No I wouldn't."

"Are you glad to see me?" James asked.

"Of course." Harry said quickly, seeing the seriousness in his father's face.

James smoothed his son's hair down, "You're a sweet boy Harry, I wish I could take credit. And while I'd happily spend forever sitting, talking with you…"

"We don't have so long." Harry finished, suddenly knowing it to be the case, the knowledge settling heavily on his shoulders.

"Yes." James confirmed, "You have a choice to make, but first we have a few things to discuss."

"Did Sirius want to come?" Harry asked.

James looked at Harry in confusion for a moment, before smiling, "Harry, Sirius isn't dead…"

"But he's not woken up." Harry said, a sudden panic filling him, "Where is he?"

James lay a kind hand on Harry's arm, "Hush… it's nothing so awful. Besides, that is one of the things I wanted to talk to you about. I wanted to tell you have the key to waking Sirius."

This time it was Harry's turn to look confused, "We've tried everything…"

"Dumbledore gave you the key." James explained, "Oh I highly doubt he meant for saving Sirius to be its use, but you have it none the less."

Harry thought back, wondering what Dumbledore had given him, "The snitch? How on earth will that help? I couldn't even get it open."

"It will open for you after this." James assured him, "'I open at the close' Dumbledore meant for that to mean the close of your life, but Miss Davis walked with you, you didn't need what Dumbledore had planned for you."

"I don't think I needed anything Dumbledore had planned for me." Harry muttered.

James laughed, "You should tell that to your mother, I'm sure she'd agree with you."

Harry gave him a sad smile, "You're talking like I'm not dead. Like I can talk to mum again."

"That's for later." James said, with a twinkle of mischief in his eye.

"I really… I don't know you." Harry said suddenly.

James looked sadly at Harry, "I know. And it will forever be one of my biggest regrets, no matter how full and happy your life was and will be without me. I've watched you though, I've watched you grow and learn and change. You have a baby sister, I believe."

Harry nodded, "Yeah… Danica. Dad if you know about… you know about Mum and Severus right?"

James laughed, a sound Harry loved, "Yes. Yes I know. And don't worry; I'm happy for them, and you. They're happy and that it the most important thing."

"He loves her." Harry said seriously, "He's always been really good to her, to both of us."

"I'm glad she's loved." James said thoughtfully, leaning back against the table part of the picnic table, "Harry, I need to apologise."

"For what?" Harry asked.

"I was such a bully, truly horrid to Severus, and to your Mum for a while." James said, tears forming in his eyes at the shame of the memories.

Harry looked up and saw the tears running down his father's face, "Dad it's OK… it was years ago."

"That doesn't make it OK Harry, not even one little bit." James put simply, "And while… while for the years after we left school I wanted to make amends, I didn't, which is also not alright."

"Voldemort killed Tracy for walking with me." Harry mumbled, shaking his head, "She hated me for years, and there were many times we were both awful to one another but she walked with me. She must have known that there was a risk, she tried to do the right thing though. She made amends… but I'm not sure I did… and now I'll never have a chance."

"Oh Harry…" James said, knowing that no words could help how Harry was now feeling.

A particularly loud gasp from the suffering thing dragged Harry's attention back to it, rather than his guilt. The thing repulsed him, in such a violent way it made him feel ashamed, another thing to add to the list. It was clearly in pain, its eyes welded shut like a kittens' and fresh specks of blood hitting the ground every time it moved, even slightly.

"Dad… what is that?" Harry asked, walking towards it, "Or, who is that?"

James pulled Harry back slightly, "It's Voldemort, well part of him. You were a Horcrux, he tried to kill you, and as a result, he killed his own Horcrux. There's some irony in that."

"Irony… I was a Horcrux and you get irony?" Harry laughed, the thoughts crashing around in his mind.

James joined in Harry's laughter and pulled him into a hug, "Well, I was always good at finding the funny in things."

"How was I a Horcrux?" Harry asked, "I've read every inch of that horrific book that tells you how to make Horcruxes in great detail and I have no memory of being involved with any of that."

"The night I died." James told him.

"That's when, not how." Harry pointed out.

James nodded and sighed, "Yes, well spotted. You certainly got your mother's brains. When Voldemort tried to kill you, your mother's love, her willing to suffer and die for you, it saved your life, as you know. Well, the rebound from that curse managed to break off a small piece of his soul, which found it's home in you. His soul was so damaged, it didn't take much force to shatter it further."

"That's… so creepy." Harry said, shaking his head and wrinkling his nose, "I never even knew. Dumbledore did though, didn't he?"

James nodded, "I think he suspected for a while, probably even before you went to Hogwarts. Then with your scar hurting, and the Parseltongue abilities and then in your fifth year…"

"When I could see inside Voldemort's head." Harry sighed, everything falling painfully into place, "Why didn't he tell me?"

"Tell a fifteen year old that he was going to have to die?" James asked, "I'm glad he didn't. I have to say I don't like most of the things Dumbledore did, interfering with your life the way he did, but I'm glad he didn't tell you you were going to have to die without getting to live even a fifth of your life."

"Didn't stop it from happening though did it?" Harry said, the reality pushing down on him again, "Although am I dead? I don't think we really cleared that up."

"Things are never really straight forward," James grinned mischievously, "but for simplicities sake, no Harry, you're not yet dead. This is… limbo, is the best word for it I suppose."

Harry nodded thoughtfully, trying to take it all in, "I don't understand why I'm not fully dead. Not that I'm complaining, I think. Is it because of him?" he asked, pointed to the fragment of Voldemort.

James shook his head, "No… well, not that bit of Voldemort. Instead it's due to the living part of Voldemort."

"He didn't really want me dead?" Harry asked with a grin, "He thought that we could be best pals really?"

James laughed, a loud, happy noise that filled Harry with the pain of never hearing it in real life. It struck Harry that he was going to have to either leave his mother, or leave his father. Both of which seemed completely unfair.

"Your mother's gift, the way she was so willing to sacrifice herself… it was ever lasting, and filled every inch of your being." James explained, trying not to react to how upset Harry had suddenly become.

"Voldemort… he took my blood, to bring himself back." Harry said, trying to put the pieces together, "Was that really enough to stop me from dying? Wait does this mean I have a Horcrux?" he gasped.

James pulled him into a hug, "No, you do not have a Horcrux, you don't need to worry about that."

Harry let out the deep breath he didn't realise he'd been holding, the idea of part of him living in Voldemort made him feel sick and violated even worse than the knowledge that a part of Voldemort had been residing in him.

"A Horcrux is part of a soul, Voldemort merely has part of your blood." James said dismissively, "The fact is, that blood saved your life, it has given you a chance. A choice."

Harry nodded and let out another deep breath.

He was suddenly very tired. Seven years suddenly seemed like a very long time to have been fighting. It had been a lot of responsibility on his very young shoulders. It would be nice to not have to worry for a while, to let someone else take that responsibility.

"I realise this must be a shock for you." James said gently, "I wish there was more I could do to help you… just, deal with all this."

"I'm just really glad you're here Dad." Harry smiled, giving his father another hug, trying to make up for all the hugs they'd missed.

"You don't have to go back you know." James said seriously, "We could get on the monorail, or the boat, it was always your favourite, and just go somewhere."

Harry laughed, he couldn't stop. His side hurt, he couldn't breath for a moment until the peals of laughter finally died down. James was laughing as well, enjoying the chance to laugh with his son.

"I couldn't not go back!" Harry said, gasping for breath, "I thought maybe… but once you'd said it…"

James ran a hand over his son's crazy hair, wondering what it would look like when it was older and grey, "I didn't think for a second you'd ever abandon everyone. I'm so proud of you, you know. You should have been a Gryffindor with how brave you are."

Harry smirked, "Na, Slytherin all the way. I literally died to get what I wanted."

"Touché" James grinned, matching Harry's smirk perfectly.

"What happens to him?" Harry asked, pointing to the still gasping sliver of Voldemort's soul.

"He can't move on." James said, turning away from the creature, "He's just stuck here."

"Could you take him?" Harry asked, pulling his father round to face him again, "With you I mean? Help him move on?"

James thought for a moment, "Do you really want that? After everything he's done? With everything you know he would do given the chance?"

"Will you hate me if I do?" Harry asked, trying to force a level of lightness into his voice that just wasn't there, "He killed you after all, nearly killed me and mum and… so many other people and then Mum married Severus who you hated because of him and we never got to know each other and…"

"Harry, Harry calm down." James said, holding his son's hands, "I could never hate you, and yes I missed seeing you grow up and… and I will always regret that I wasn't a part of your life, but if I'd not died, Danica wouldn't have been born, and I can see how much you love her. It makes you so happy, I'd never want to take away anything that made you happy. And that is just one example of the many good things that have happened because I died."

"So you don't hate me for wanting to save Voldemort, even after everything?" Harry asked, begging to be reassured.

"No. In fact I think… well, it would take a lot of disinterest or hatred to ignore someone in so much pain. Neither of which I'd wish for you. But I'm just not sure how much good it'll do. He's very lost." James explained.

"Maggie." Harry said quickly.

"Maggie?" James frowned, "I don't follow…"

"There's someone called Maggie, she… I think she's dead." Harry tried to explain, everything sounding like it was coming out wrong, "She can help him, she loved him, closest thing to a mother, to a family, he ever had."

James smiled and nodded, "I shall try and find this Maggie then."

Harry took a deep breath as a soft gust of wind blew over them, "We don't have long left do we?"

James shook his head, "No." he took a deep breath as tears dropped down his nose, "I wish we did, I have a million questions to ask you, as I'm sure you do for me. Cho seems nice."

Harry smiled, a glow warming him from the inside at the thought of Cho, "Yeah, she's great. Dad are you happy where you are?"

James thought for a moment, "Happy? I don't know. But I am at peace, it is very peaceful. And maybe that's better than just happy."

Harry nodded, "Yeah maybe."

He puffed his cheeks out and blew the air out at once, he thought of a soft, purple blanket that appeared just as quickly as his robes had. He walked over and wrapped the moaning Voldemort in the soft cloth and picked him up as carefully as he could, knowing he was causing him pain. He weighed less than a baby, Harry worried he would break the delicate bones he was carrying.

James took the bundle from him and smile, "I really am proud of you Harry."

"Thanks… thank you Dad." Harry said, not bothering to wipe away the tears, they were flowing too quickly anyway.

He watched his father walk away, climbing down the pale steps to the boat that sat waiting.

"Dad… is this really happening? Or is it just all in my head?" Harry asked.

James smirked, his face young and full of mischief like it was in all the pictures Harry had of him, when he was only a few years older than Harry was, "Yes."

Harry laughed, as his father faded from view, the air around him began to brighten, glowing so fiercely that he could see nothing else.