Canticum Novum

Harry shook himself and scanned the road. It didn't look like very smooth going--in fact, the road seemed to be broken.

He was sore, though that stood to reason as his uncle had beaten him bloody yet again. He wondered how badly he'd been hurt...and where he was. Perhaps Uncle Vernon had thought him dead, dumped him on the side of a road less travelled. In that case, how long had he been unconscious?

Slowly, gingerly, he stood up. Instantly, his aches seemed to disappear, giving a general sort of just-out-of-bed stiffness. He rolled his shoulders and looked up and down the road. Nothing in either direction. But it was a road.

"Well," Harry said aloud with a small sigh, "every road's got to lead somewhere." He stepped out onto the road and started heading along it. Clouds of dust swirled around his feet in some places. Tufted grass scratched his skin through his torn socks and slacks in others. Rocks and pebbles littered the road in still others. Several times he stumbled where the path was too rough. Twice he tripped and fell to the ground, but quickly got up and kept going. He didn't know why it was so important that he get up and keep going, but he did it quickly. It seemed to take him a little longer to get up the second time.

After a few minutes, he stumbled again and fell with a small cry to the ground. Momentarily dazed by the fall, his aches coming back in a sudden, sharp rush, he didn't move for a second.

"You okay, Sonny Jim?"

Harry raised his head and found himself staring at a young woman with light blonde-nearly-white hair and deep blue eyes. She looked mildly concerned. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." He stood up and brushed his hands off.

The woman smiled an easygoing sort of smile. "How long you been walking?"
"No idea," Harry admitted. "An hour or so."

"Hmm, you haven't been up here long then." She studied him sharply. "You sore?"

Harry nodded. "A little. My uncle--"

"Oh, it's old pain?"

"Not really old. I don't know how long I've been unconscious."

The woman shook her head. "Doesn't matter...or maybe it does. Anyway, it answers a pretty big question."

"What's that?"

"The question of whether or not you're dead."

Harry was thrown by the comment. "D-dead?" he stammered.

The woman nodded. "Don't worry, you aren't. You wouldn't be in pain or stiff or anything if you were."

Harry swallowed. "I...how do I get back?"

"You'll have to walk." The woman studied him sharply. "But you're in no condition to walk back to the gates now. You've got to be hungry."

"Well, I..."

"Come with me," the woman interrupted him. "Just tell yourself inside that you're going to go wherever Rowena Ravenclaw's going--that's me, by the way."

"You are?" Harry asked in surprise, at the same time telling himself inwardly to go wherever she was going. "I...no offence, but I thought you'd be older."

Rowena Ravenclaw laughed as they set off. "I was, when I died, but part of the magic up here is that you revert to your age at the happiest time in your life within seconds of arrival..

Harry hesitated. "If you don't mind my asking, Miss Ravenclaw...where are we going?"

"Call me Rowena, Sonny Jim. And we're going to Red House."

"Red...?"

"Well, that's what they call it anyhow. Built like their old place in the old world...I think you'll like them. Nice young couple, their best friend, and of course Godric and Helga and Salazar."

Harry frowned slightly. "Won't they mind me turning up?"

"Nah. It's not the first time I've brought someone along." Rowena pulled a face. "Godric's forever teasing me about my 'wayward souls'--he says I pick them up like seashells on the beach--but even he can't deny that the young man I brought along before has been a wonderful conversationalist." She studied Harry. "What's your name, Sonny Jim?"

"Harry. Harry Potter."

Rowena grinned. "Guess you're not a Sonny Jim then, are you?"

"I sort of am. My father's name was James."

"Was?"
"He's dead."

"Sorry about that. How's your mother taking it?"

"She's dead too."

Rowena shook her head. "I'm sorry...jeez, you can't get a break, can you?"

Harry's face twisted in a wry smile. "'Neither can live while the other survives'."

"What?"

"Nothing."

It wasn't a very long walk, but after a while Harry saw a house take form just ahead on the side of the road. It was a small white house with rosebushes under the windows. The whole house seemed to be a memory to Harry, but he couldn't remember where from.

"Here we are," Rowena said cheerfully, walking up to the front door. "Come on now."

Harry followed her up the path as she knocked smartly on the honey brown door. Voices could be heard inside.

"Someone's at the door."

"It's probably Rowena."
"No! Don't answer it!"

"I heard that!" Rowena yelled.

"Good!" came the reply.

"Just open the door," said an exasperated-sounding woman.

"You get it."

"I let Salazar in."

"Don't look at me. I let Godric in."

"Oh, for goodness' sakes, I'll get it."

The door opened, and Harry felt his heart stop. A tall, dark-haired boy with handsome grey eyes stood just inside. He was wearing a yellow-and-black pullover and smiling warmly. "Rowena! Finally!"

"I picked up a guest," Rowena said with a smile.

"Really?" the boy said, raising his eyebrows. "Who?"

Rowena pushed Harry forward. The boy in the doorway held out his hand. "Hi, I'm..." He stopped and stared. "Harry?"

Harry swallowed. "Cedric?"

"Good, you two know each other," Rowena beamed. Noting the stricken look on Cedric's face, she added, "He's not dead, Cedric."

"Oh, good," Cedric said, sounding relieved. "Everyone'll be glad to hear that. Come on in... Oy!" he called into the room as Rowena pulled Harry into the house. "Set out an extra plate--Rowena's picked up another one!"

"Not again!" groaned a man sitting in a large, overstuffed red armchair.

"Shut up," Rowena said good-naturedly, boxing him on the ear. "Everyone, this is Harry."

The man in the red armchair looked up at Harry. "Nice to meet you...Hogwarts student?" Harry nodded. "What house?"

"Gryffindor," Harry answered. The man he was addressing had silvery blonde hair and dancing, mischievous green eyes; Harry took him for Godric Gryffindor.

"Really?" The man turned. "Oy, Godric, it's one of yours."

Harry blinked in surprise. Godric was skinny and gangly--though obviously Rowena's age, he seemed not yet to have outgrown the gangly teenage stage yet. Harry was firmly reminded of Ron; although Godric's eyes were a curious golden colour, his hair was bright red and looked as though it had been dressed by the cow with the crumpled horn from the house that Jack built. Harry was gradually coming to understand why the house colours were what they were and strongly suspected that if he looked at the other woman in the room she would have yellow-blonde hair and black eyes.

Godric stood up and held out his hand. "Godric Gryffindor. Nice to meet you, Harry. I guess you've met Rowena...this here is my best mate Salazar Slytherin, and the fine woman on your left is Helga Hufflepuff."

Harry was right; a woman with yellow-blonde hair and obsidian eyes came over to shake his hand. She had her hair drawn back in pigtails; Harry was reminded of Hannah Abbot. Slytherin reminded him a little of Malfoy and a little of Tom Riddle, which was a slightly disconcerting feeling. He tried to think of whom Rowena reminded him of and immediately thought of Luna.

Cedric grinned at him. "Remind you of Hogwarts students too, huh?" he said quietly. Harry nodded.

A woman's pure voice echoed out of the kitchen, singing what sounded like a hymn. Cedric glanced towards the kitchen door, then tapped Harry on the shoulder.

"Come here," he said quietly. "You need to talk to them before we eat."

Harry followed Cedric into the kitchen and froze. His mother was at the stove, stirring a pot of something. His father was mashing a pot of potatoes and laughing. Sirius was sitting backwards in a tall kitchen chair, laughing as well.

"Um...James? Lily?"

"Kind of busy here, Cedric," Lily said without turning around.

"No, it's...Rowena brought another guest by and you need to meet him."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Another one? If Rowena keeps this up, we're going to be..." He trailed off when he saw Harry, then went white as a sheet.

"Sirius?" James said in concern. "What's wrong?" He turned, saw Harry, did a double take, and froze, his hazel eyes widening.

Lily sighed as she turned. "Cedric, this had better be good. I'm trying to make--" She stopped and stared. "Harry?"

Harry swallowed. "M-Mum? Dad? Sirius?"

The tableau held for about two seconds. Suddenly, with a clatter as the high kitchen chair hit the ground, Sirius sprang across the kitchen floor to embrace Harry. Harry hugged him back fiercely. James dropped the masher into the potatoes and flew to hug his son. Even Lily abandoned her pot and joined them.

Sirius finally pulled back, his eyes full. "Harry, it's so good to see you again," he said brokenly. "But why...how did..."

"He isn't dead," Cedric spoke up. "At least not according to Rowena."

Lily looked at her son in concern. "Are you hurt?"

"A little." The hugging hadn't helped; all the aches and pains in his upper body had come back with a vengeance. But it was worth it, in his opinion.

"What happened?" James began, but Lily stopped him.

"Harry can wait until we've eaten," she said fiercely, hurrying back to her stove. "Dinner's ready now, so Cedric, if you'd call in everyone else..."

"Sure thing." Cedric stuck his head into the living room. "Oy, you lot! Dinner!"

Sirius nudged Harry into the seat next to him, opposite James. Lily ladled out the food, Cedric said a short prayer, and everyone fell to.

It had been some time since Harry felt properly hungry. He actually started enjoying it after a while, listening to the conversation going on around him without joining in. Halfway through dessert he suddenly thought of Hermione, of his Aunt Petunia and of Remus, and the food turned to ashes in his mouth.

"What's wrong?" Salazar asked him, studying his face carefully.

"N-nothing."

Harry returned to listening the conversation and tried to finish his dessert, but Godric, who was, as Rowena put it, a "human garbage disposal" and had already finished his cake, said cheerfully, "That was excellent, Lily, as usual. Where'd you get the recipe?"

"Thanks, Godric," Lily beamed. "Believe it or not, Petunia taught me that recipe...it was something she learned in a home economics class. She used to make it for pretty much every conceivable occasion that she felt called for cake."

Harry immediately put down his fork, feeling sick as he thought of his aunt again.

"Harry? Are you all right?" Godric asked in mild concern.

Sirius met Harry's eyes and seemed to understand. "If everyone else is done, maybe we should talk now."

"That all right with you, Harry?" James asked.

Harry nodded gratefully. "I...I should probably get going..."

"Well, that's the first question," Helga said, rising and beginning to clear the plates out of the way. "Do you want to stay here or go back?"

The question caught Harry entirely off-guard. "I...what?"

"She means," Lily said quietly, "that you can choose whether or not you want to just stay here. Your body back on Earth will just stay unconscious in a sort of suspended animation until someone kills it. Your soul will stay here, with us."

Harry heard the words between the lines--please stay, we don't want you to go back, we'd love to have you stay--but he shook his head. "No...I can't do that."

"Good, I--wait, what?" James stared at Harry in frank astonishment.

"I can't stay," Harry repeated, carefully keeping his voice steady. "I'm sorry, but...I just can't. I..." He groped helplessly for the words, trying to figure out how to explain it. "I'm sorry, I was never any good at explaining things..."

"Kid, name three things worth going back for," Rowena said from down the table.

"Remus," Harry said quietly. "Aunt Petunia...and Hermione."

"Three very good reasons," Sirius said softly.

"Who's Hermione?" Lily asked James, who shrugged and glanced at Sirius and Harry.

However, it was Cedric who answered. "Hermione's his best friend, and--" Cedric snapped off the sentence and looked guilty. "Never mind."

"No, what?" James insisted.

A slight grin crossed Sirius's face. "Ah, so you guessed too."

"Kind of hard not to...I thought it was kind of obvious."

"What?" Harry asked, looking from one to the other and back.

"Never mind," Sirius told Harry. "You'll figure it out for yourself."

Harry eyed them suspiciously. "If you say so."

James shook his head. "Anyway...Harry, if you're so anxious to get back, maybe we should take you back now. Are you ready to go?"

Harry nodded and started to stand, then winced as fresh pain shot through his wrist. It hurt a lot--sprained or broken, he suspected--and it sent fresh waves of pain through the bruises over the rest of his body.

"Are you okay?" Lily asked anxiously.

"Fine," Harry said through gritted teeth.

"Like hell you are," Sirius said a little sharply. "Sit down. You can wait a few more minutes before you go...it won't kill you."

Reluctantly, Harry sat. James stared at his friend in astonishment. "How the heck could you tell? He isn't too lousy a liar."

"Unlike his father," Lily shot. James grinned sheepishly.

"Maybe not, but I've known Harry long enough to know when he is lying and when he's telling the truth," Sirius said quietly. "I've also learned through experience that he doesn't like admitting when he's in pain."

"Why not?" Lily asked.

Harry swallowed. "Because...well, I've done enough complaining to last me the rest of my life, however long or short it may be. Besides, there are probably people out there who hurt a lot more than I do at any given time. I really don't have the right to complain."

"That came from your side of the family," James and Lily both said to one another in unison.

Sirius chuckled. Harry tried to manage a smile, or even a half smile, but it hurt a little too much, both physically and emotionally.

Concern swept over James's hazel eyes. "Harry, you haven't told us yet how you got in this state. What happened to you?"

Harry bit his lip. "I...I'm not entirely sure. Uncle Vernon came upstairs...I remember he was really mad about something that had happened at work--I think he lost a big order of drills or something. Whatever it was, it was somehow my fault and he decided he had to punish me for it."

"He hit you?" Sirius practically yelled, starting up in his chair.

Harry hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. "Yeah."

Sirius closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, then opened his eyes again. "How hard?"

"Hard enough. I hit my head on the corner of my bed at one point and started bleeding. At some point he hit me in the face and I could feel my glasses breaking...that's really the last thing I remember. I think I passed out at that point."

"How long ago was it?" Lily asked, white as a sheet.

"I don't know."

James stared at Harry in frank astonishment. "Harry...son...are you absolutely sure you want to go back to...to that?"

"Yes," Harry said firmly, so firmly it surprised everyone else. "Because I won't be going back to that. When I go back--when I wake up--I'll be going back to everything else I'm missing up here--to my friends and the D.A. and Quidditch and homework."

"Why would you want to go back to that?" Salazar asked, only half-joking.

"Because it's part of my life," Harry said simply. "It's part of who I am and what I do. I couldn't just leave it all behind."

A silence fell on the room. Abruptly, Sirius stood up. "You're probably right, Harry. You've been here long enough. I don't know how time passes on Earth, but it sure isn't the same way it passes here. And if you stay here too long you might get declared legally dead. If you're determined to go back...we should probably get going now."

Harry rose to his feet. "Okay."

James rose as well. "Let's go."

Harry gave his mother a hug, shook hands with the Hogwarts founders, and started to shake with Cedric--but Cedric pulled him into a hug. When they pulled apart, Harry thanked them all for their hospitality, said goodbye, and followed his father and godfather out of the house.

The three walked the broken road in silence. It seemed to take far less time than Harry's journey to the house had taken on his own, far less time than Harry would have wanted. Yes, he wanted to get back, but he didn't want to leave Sirius or James behind.

After walking for what seemed like forever, Harry saw a pair of golden gates up ahead. "Is that...?" he began.

"Yes," James said tightly, squeezing Harry's shoulder. "That's the way out." He looked down and hugged Harry tightly, as though he never wanted to let go. Harry hugged him back.

"Take care of yourself, son," James said quietly. "You make your mother and me very proud."

"I will," Harry answered, managing a smile. "Thanks, Dad."

Sirius approached Harry too, and hugged him even tighter than James had. Harry perhaps returned the hug a bit more enthusiastically too.

"I love you, Harry," Sirius whispered.

"I love you too," Harry choked out. "I'm sorry I never told you before...I always thought there'd be time later..."

"And that was your biggest mistake," Sirius told him, looking seriously into Harry's green eyes. "Mine too--I never told you how I felt because I assumed I'd be able to tell you the next time I saw you. Never assume there will be time later, because there may not be. Never put off till tomorrow what you could do today--like telling somebody that you love them--because tomorrow you may not get the chance. Never save anything for a special occasion because that occasion might wind up being your own funeral. Remember that and you should be all right."

"I'll remember," Harry said quietly. "Thanks, Sirius."

"No problem." Sirius gave him a very wet smile. "Now scoot before I refuse to let you go and drag you back to Red House by your hair."

Harry managed a smile. "Okay...goodbye, Dad, Sirius." He turned to face the golden gates, took a deep breath, and walked towards them. One step. Two steps. A little closer. Just keep moving. You can do it. One step closer. Another step closer. You'll be home in a few minutes...

Everything seemed to swirl around him as he passed through the gates...his foot met with nothing...he was falling...and then all was blackness for a while.