Free to Fly

Free

The fading autumn sunlight cast an eerie glow around the forest, turning the fallen and dying leaves into piles of gold. The lake shimmered like a ghost of the sun, before the light faded, leaving only black emptiness in its wake. From the well-worn path to the castle two people walked slowly, heads bowed, and hands clasped, both looking tired and run down. The shorter of the two sniffed, raising her head slightly to gaze at the vanishing sun. "The sun is out," she mused, her voice halting and broken, "the sun was never out when..." Her voice trailed off into quiet sobs.

Cool breeze and autumn leaves

Slow motion daylight

Her companion wrapped an arm around her, rubbing frantically at his own eyes.

"We didn't have to come here you know," he whispered softly, unwilling to begin crying himself. Why? His thoughts screamed at him. There should have been another way, one where we weren't left behind. There was only blackness then, why was it any different now?

One pair of watchful eyes

Oversee the living

The two reached the forest as the daylight faded altogether, both sitting on the ground in front of a shaped grey stone and giving way to desperate tears. The presence of the darkness was less threatening now, vanquished in exchange for the many lives it had claimed, and one in particular.

Feel the presence all around

A tortured soul

A wound unhealing

That life was watching them now, a faithful observing presence that the two were unaware of, except as a memory. It was less than a ghost, a shade, a wraith that existed only by the power of friendship that held it to earth. He watched the two who mourned him, and his mouth formed two words, unheard by all, but powerful in their meaning. "Ron...Hermione..." In a desperate attempt to gain their attention, he turned quickly, stirring a whirlwind of brightly colored leaves in the air. The two living turned at the sound of the leaves, hoping that somehow, someway, something that not even magic could change was about to be undone. But they hoped in vain.

No regrets or promises

The past is gone

But you can still be free

All the girl could think about was the fact that she would never see her friend again. Never again would she be frightened for him during a Quidditch match, only to rejoice with him at a victory. Never again would she watch him fly, always smiling, free and alive, soaring over everything, green eyes twinkling with exhilaration. Never again would she have his friendship, his steadfast courage, his loyalty. All was gone, and it was her fault. If she'd been better, gotten higher marks, learned more, knew more...this never could have happened. The thought made her break down completely, sobbing into Ron's shoulder as though her heart would break, or maybe it already had.

The boy too was watching the leaves. Normally he would have made some crack about leaves not playing Quidditch nearly as well as they, and Harry would have laughed, and joked that Hermione had no idea what they were talking about. They both would have laughed...not a care in the world, they just would have laughed as if it meant nothing...It was hard to laugh now, nearly impossible. Maybe he never would laugh again....why not? Harry couldn't. Harry could never do anything again, not laugh, not fly, not plot tricks to play on Malfoy or fake Divination homework. Never see his friends. And at that thought, Ron allowed himself to cry.

Time now to spread your wings

To take the flight, the life endeavor

The spirit watched. How many years ago had he thought there would be no one to mourn for him. Now he felt he would rather have that than watch these two, who were so dear to him, torture themselves. He would never be able to help....unless...

Reaching out a timid hand, the spirit placed it under Hermione's chin, lifting her head so he was looking into tearful brown eyes. She, through her tears, caught a glint of green, a shade she recognized instantly.

Aim for the brightest star

You're trapped inside

But you can still be free

If time will set you free

The girl reached out to the invisible hand and grasped it, feeling semi-solid flesh under her fingertips. She nudged her friend, voicing through her sobs: "Ron...Look!"

"Herm," Ron choked out, "There's nothing there." For a moment, he was sure that her grief had at last unhinged her, causing her mind to play horrible games with her, but then he felt it.

With a cheeky grin at defying the laws of nature, the spirit reached out and took Ron's hand, completing the circle of three friends. As the circle closed, the spirit bent the walls of time, twisted reality, and solidified, became reality, at least for the moment.

Sail through the wind and rain tonight

You're free to fly tonight

The three gaped at one another, all with tears still streaming down their faces, before Ron and Hermione threw themselves upon Harry, hugging him fiercely. "Hi," Harry said simply to the two of them, hugging them back as best he could, a he was still not completely solid, and still a shade of misty grey, except for his eyes.

"Harry...How on earth? You're not a ghost?" Hermione whispered, afraid he would disappear again if she spoke too loud.

"Relax. I'm not near a ghost," Harry said, his voice barely audible, and sounding as though he spoke from a great distance. "I just couldn't stand the two of you blaming yourselves for letting me go off and die. I know you were," he continued, glancing at Hermione. "What kind of friend would I be if I just left?"

He broke the hug, and the other two could see that he was fading, changing shades to lighter and lighter grey, his eyes morphing from emerald to pale green to grey. And then he was gone, leaving only the cold grey stone that sat as a silent remembrance to one who was missed. Ron and Hermione sat there still, comprehending and accepting, before picking themselves up and walking slowly back to the castle, neither speaking, but each understanding the peace left by the spirit.

The spirit they could sense. He was flying, soaring high above the air, unsupported, using no broomstick an sailing higher than anyone had flown before...yet he was sure that he would always be remembered, not as a hero, not as a savior, but as a simple friend, as one who had brought laughter and joy to a few people. For that, he was sure, he would be honored.

Fly higher than the mountaintops

Fly high like the wind don't stop

And fly high

Free to fly tonight

Free to fly tonight

The cold stone remains there still, a silent reminder of what was lost, in spite of what was gained:

Harry Potter

1980-1998