Across the Cauldron

Death

"Brave Gryffindor," indeed -- your daring is delightful. With that poison you've concocted, you summon me, to call me to account!

Shhh... Relax, I'm not angry with you. Lay your head back. It's my turn, remember?

I have so enjoyed this fencing match. The thrust: Voldemort comes for you. The parry: Voldemort is struck down. The lunge: the basilisk is skewered. The feint: you find yourself entered in the Triwizard Tournament. This riposte took me by surprise, though, and you have touched my heart. It has been quite a rivalry, but it is finished.

I indulge in contests like this from time to time, just to relieve the monotony of cold eternity. Even they get to be tedious because the end is never in doubt.

Then you blazed across my sky like that signature lightning bolt of yours. Of course I could have taken you any number of times, but the game was fascinating. You seemed to have such passion for life, but I was right -- I knew there were times when you were flirting with me. The bout amused me, dear heart, but your anguish does not. I got carried away, and I apologise.

You reach a hand up to cup my cheek, and then steal a quick kiss.

Mmph... Scamp! Am I forgiven, then? I catch a glimpse of the quirk of your lips just before they meet mine again for a chaste but lingering exploration.

Thank you, love. Now let me finish.

As you said, it is time for truth between us. There's a quote from Shakespeare, "Shall I believe that unsubstantial death is amorous and that the lean abhorred monster keeps thee here in dark to be his paramour?" Believe it, Harry, except for the monster part - that sounds more like a dementor. His Kiss devours the soul and destroys it, but my Kiss brings it peace.

You have endured so much, even more than the trials of our little duel. Orphaned, abused, maligned and frightened...

Rest now.

You will have peace.

And you will be loved.

And you will have a family.

The cure for your grief was in that potion, and it has done its work.

Harry, what happened in the graveyard is not your fault. You certainly were not helping Voldemort. What you have to accept is that you were helpless, and I know you hate that. When you take the blame, you're trying to convince yourself there's something you could have done. And while I'm on the subject, you are not a killer. It was never your intention to kill Quirrell, and Tom Riddle was only a projection, after all. Sirius is the real proof of it. If you were a killer, he wouldn't be out there watering bushes and begging for scraps.

Ah, was that a smile I saw?

To answer your question, Voldemort and I are not "mates." He just thinks he has beaten me. He and I have been engaging in something of a duel, too, and he has bound my blade. It's a rather unique accomplishment, I have to admit.

In his arrogance, he decided only your blood would do, and in that much at least, he was right. That viper is meddling in very old magic that no mortal fully comprehends. Even Dumbledore and Flamel were pushing their luck when they made the Elixir of Life. Voldemort is only thinking about reclaiming his own power, and he could be in for a very rude shock.

I'll tickle your ear with another secret truth -

You were the cauldron prepared for Voldemort.

Your stolen blood was a distillation of three magics, salted with phoenix tears, and stirred (quite literally) by the hand of one who owes you a life debt. That potion now steals through Voldemort's veins, and it puts him in your power. That is, if you meant it when you said you wanted to kill him.

"Wait a minute," you say. "I thought - "

Yes, what of my Kiss? How can he die at your hand if you're dead? Here's another secret - you're not the only one who tampered with your Potions assignment. There are deep magics at work here. The elixir you drank did bring you... um...very close to me, but it also gave you some protection.

Now you have three choices.

Look behind you. When you fell into my arms, you left your body collapsed there on the desk.

Oh, if you could see the look on your face!

Snape will return and find you there in a few moments.

With a little effort, I can overcome the grace your potion gave you, so if you choose, I can take you with another Kiss. There will be nothing Snape can do - you'll be gone. After awhile, the curse in Voldemort's veins will expire, and he will have his full strength back. You'll leave the world as it was when you entered it.

You'll be free of the war, free of everyone else's expectations. No more hatred. No more killing. And you'll have your heart's desire, to be with your parents.

Your other choice is to take up your body and your burdens again, healed in spirit, but all too prone to taking new wounds. Snape will use his bezoar stone just in time, so you'll wake in hospital, weak and sick, remembering nothing of our time together. Gryffindor will lose points because you sampled your potion before the professor examined it, but they'll never suspect it was no accident.

I hear Snape returning, so it's time to choose. I parry the question back to you - answer me, my love. Will you finally come with me?

You loosen our embrace just enough to tilt you head back and lock gazes with me. In your eyes is a simmering mixture of emotions. I see apprehension and desire, regret and anticipation. "You already know."

Suddenly, your left arm is wrapped around my shoulders, crushing our bodies back together, and your right hand is behind my head to pull my mouth down over yours. My tongue brushes your lips, and you part them for me, our tongues exploring each other. Just as suddenly, you have turned away, leaving me stunned.

Were you really that sure of me? I shake my head. You do like to live dangerously, but live you shall.

Returning across the cauldron to your body, you pause and look over your shoulder at me. "Hang on - what was my third choice?"

Snape enters the dungeon, but hasn't seen you yet. I can't resist a little smirk.

You can stay as a ghost and haunt him, I suggest.

You throw your head back in a joyous laugh. "Tempting, but I guess I'll stick with the plan."

Snape has seen your body, but his frantic Ennervate! charms are useless. He sniffs the cauldron tentatively as you peer over his shoulder. Snape then dashes towards his office to get the bezoar stone. You give me that impudent grin. I know your heart is lighter because you have to swoop into a dive in order to get back down into your body. It looked like you were closing in on the Snitch.

I step over to your unconscious form and tousle that black mop of hair. "Good choice. Your parents will wait, and so will I."

Fin