Harry Potter's Christmas Angel

"Harry Potter's Christmas Angel"
Chapter Three
"Angel Rising"

'So what's it like up in Heaven?" Harry asked.

Clarence looked at Harry and laughed. "I knew sooner or later you were going to ask me that! You know, that's the Number Two Question that mortals always ask angels when they encounter them. They always seem to want to know what Heaven is like?"

"It's a simple-enough question. What's it like?"

"What do you want me to tell you, Harry?" Clarence asked, shaking his head. "Do you want me to say that Heaven looks like the lobby of the Ritz-Carlton Hotel? It doesn't! It's not like any place here on Earth. And it's nothing like what you see in the movies. We don't stand on floating clouds. We don't streak around through outer space like shooting stars. I know this sounds like a cliché, but you would actually have to die and go to Heaven to see what it's really like."

They were walking down a snow-covered path through Bailey Park, surrounded by tall, gnarled beech trees. Harry had been here only once before, during a visit to Hogsmeade the previous October. He and Ron had been reluctant to visit the park, but Ginny and Hermione had practically dragged them to it. Once there, however, Harry and Ron both agreed that they were glad they had come. The trees in the park had been in their autumn foliage then, covered with red, yellow, orange, purple, and brown leaves. It had been so pleasant, Harry remembered, to walk through the park with Ginny on his arm, her flaming red hair and brown eyes blending perfectly with the fall colors.

Now, visiting the park in the wintertime, Harry found the trees covered not with leaves, but with deep frostings of snow and ice. The wind whistled sharply through the trees and scattered the snow across blinding white fields and shadowy hillocks. Other park visitors strolled past Harry and Clarence. Harry stopped a middle-aged couple to ask if they had seen an old woman in a red coat. The man, a wizard with graying dark hair, a beard, and horn-rimmed glasses, shook his head. But his wife, a plump witch with yellow hair, pointed down the path and said that she remembered seeing an elderly woman in a red coat walking down near the old bridge that crossed the river.

"You were saying about Heaven?" Harry asked, as they started down the path once more.

Clarence looked at the sky. The billowing clouds were swelling like overstuffed pillows, and turning the color of ripe plums.

"In Heaven," he said, "we exist free of our earthly bodies. It's our souls that keep on living after our mortal lives are ended, Harry. And souls in Heaven are shapeless, formless. They have no 'appearance,' no 'distinguishing features,' as human bodies do."

"Then how do you tell one soul from another?"

"Well, every soul is still unique in some way. They possess emotions, talents, memories that are all their own. And when one soul encounters another, it can sense all the qualities that make up the other soul. It even knows what that soul's name was when it lived on Earth."

"You keep talking about souls," Harry said. "But I thought you were all angels up in Heaven."

"Not exactly," Clarence replied. "You see, the word 'angel' is a human word. It comes from the ancient Greek word for 'agent' or 'messenger of God.' When we exist in Heaven, we exist as souls. It's only when we return to Earth on a Heavenly mission that we become angels. As I told you before, usually when we return to Earth, we're invisible to mortals. They can't see us or hear us. But once in a while, when we have a special mission, the folks up in Heaven give us a new body for the day, so we can walk among mortals without attracting attention."

"Wait a minute." Harry gestured to Clarence's rainbow-colored clothes. "You mean, this isn't your original body?"

Clarence grinned. "No, this is just a temporary human form that they lent me for the day. Think of it as an incarnation of my spirit. An embodiment of my true colors, you might say."

"Well, I think your true colors are very...colorful," Harry said, awkwardly.

Ahead of them, the path curved around a small clearing in the woods. There was a wizard family in the clearing, a mother and four children, all dressed in winter coats, hats, and scarves. They were making a snowman together. Two dark-haired boys, about nine and seven years old, were rolling an enormous snowball, about the size of a large boulder, to serve as the snowman's lower body. They pushed the huge snowball across the clearing together, picking up snow as they went. A girl with blond pigtails, about six years old, was rolling another snowball the size of a small boulder, to serve as the snowman's upper body.

The mother of the family, a thin, blonde woman in her mid-thirties, stood on the far side of the clearing. She was watching a little, towheaded girl, about four years old, who was rolling another snowball to serve as the snowman's head. The little child, dressed in a pink winter cloak, was eagerly pushing the pumpkin-sized snowball across the ground with her red-mittened hands

"Keep pushing it, Carolyn," the mother told her daughter. "Make sure you pick up plenty of snow, so it'll be nice and round,"

The six-year-old girl with the pigtails was having trouble pushing her snowball, which was now almost half the size of her body.

"Mummy!" she shouted. "Can you come help me?!"

The mother left her four-year-old and went to help the six-year-old girl. The little child in the pink winter cloak kept pushing the snowman's head across the far edge of the clearing, leaving a long furrow in the snow behind her.

Harry and Clarence followed the path around the edge of the clearing. Just beyond the clearing, the ground dropped away into a hollow, where a branch of the Bedford River ran through the park. At this time of year, the river was half-frozen. A thick sheet of ice ran along the riverbank, like a veil of pure enamel guarding the shore. In the center of the stream, huge chunks of ice the size of concrete blocks floated past the banks of the river at terrific speeds, borne by the swift-moving current. A stone footbridge, about fifty feet long, spanned the river.

As they approached the river, Clarence pointed to the bridge. "Look, Harry! There she is!"

The old woman in the red coat stood alone on the footbridge. She was leaning over the side of the bridge, looking down at the fast-moving water ten feet below. Her black-gloved hands gripped the stone balustrade rail that ran along the side of the bridge.

Oh, God!

Harry thought. She's going to jump!

He broke into a run, and dashed onto the footbridge. "Ma'am? Excuse me? Ma'am?"

The old woman whirled, startled, as Harry came up to her. She had a guilty look on her face, as if she had just been caught doing something bad or shameful.

"Yes, what is it?" she asked, timidly.

"Er...um..." Harry stammered.

He stared at the old woman, not knowing what to say. Clarence came onto the bridge and stopped beside him. Harry looked down at the red scarf in his hands. He held it out to the old woman.

"You forgot your scarf. You dropped it at the Three Broomsticks, when those boys pushed you down."

The woman reached up and touched her bare neck in surprise. "Oh! Oh my goodness, I didn't even realize..."

She came forward and took the scarf from Harry. "Thank you. Thank you very much."

"I read the inscription on it," said Harry. "I figured it was something you wouldn't want to lose."

"Yes...well...thank you," the old woman said again. "Silly me. I'm always leaving this scarf in a restaurant, or on a park bench somewhere."

She turned from Harry and started across the bridge once more, heading for the opposite shore.

She WAS going to jump,

Harry thought. I didn't imagine it. If we'd come here one minute later, she'd be in the river by now.

"Ma'am, is anything wrong?"

The old woman turned to look at him again. Her eyes moved to the scar on Harry's forehead, and she blinked in recognition.

"Yes, I'm Harry Potter," Harry said, patiently. "Look, I'm sorry. Maybe it's none of my business. It just...seems as if you're in some kind of trouble. Is there any way I can help you...right now?"

The old woman continued to look at him for a moment. "Oh...well...I thank you for asking, Mr. Potter. I'm not in any trouble. I..."

She looked at the scarf she was holding. "This scarf...My husband gave it to me, years ago. It was a Christmas present. I forget how long I've had it. We were together for fifty-four years, you see. He died several years ago. And I've been alone since then. I always miss him most around Christmas time."

"Do you have any children?" Harry asked. "Or any relatives, Mrs...?"

"Granville," said the old woman. "My name is Mrs. Granville." She shook her head. "No children, no. I have a niece that I usually spend Christmas with. But...well...she's very sick at the moment, and I won't be able to see her this year."

The old woman moved to the side of the bridge and looked down into the river. "But it's a bit more than loneliness, I'm afraid. Lately, I've been waking up in the mornings and...trying to think of a reason that I should stay on this Earth."

She turned and smiled sadly at him. "And try as I might, I can't seem to think of one. I can't think of anyone who would really miss me if I were gone."

"What about your niece?"

"She's too sick to worry about me, right now," said Mrs. Granville. "And there's nothing I can think of that I really have left to do in this world before I die. I just can't think of any single thing in my life that's worth keeping myself here."

The wind was howling along the riverbank. Harry reached up and brushed his hair out of his eyes. He felt like an idiot, standing on this bridge, trying to give this old woman a reason not to throw herself into the icy stream below.

"Look," he said, finally, "I don't know what to say. I could give you a dozen reasons to stay on this Earth, but...they would be my reasons, not yours. I just don't think ending your life is the right thing to do."

Mrs. Granville's face suddenly flushed crimson. She looked guilty again. "Who...who said anything about ending my life?"

"No, I didn't mean..."

"I'm sorry!" The old woman turned away from Harry. "I really must go. Thank you for returning my scarf."

"Wait a minute," Harry said.

"I really have to go, I..."

Mrs. Granville moved to the opposite side of the bridge, and looked over the edge. Her eyes widened in horror. "Oh, my goodness!"

Harry looked over the stone rail. Directly below them, a tiny figure in a pink winter cloak was stumbling across the long sheet of ice that stretched out from the riverbank. It was the towheaded little girl that he and Clarence had seen building a snowman with her family up in the clearing a few minutes ago.

The large snowball that the little girl had been rolling -- the snowman's head -- was lying on the very edge of the sheet of ice about twenty feet from the shore. Harry looked back up the bank, and realized what had happened. The girl had been pushing her snowball along the top of the bank, when it had suddenly rolled down the slope and onto the ice. Now, she was trying to retrieve it.

"You there! Little girl!" Mrs. Granville yelled down at her.

The little girl stopped about two feet from the edge of the ice, and looked up at the bridge, startled.

"Don't move!" Mrs. Granville shouted. "Please, stay right where you are! You're in terrible danger! You're standing on ice!"

The child looked around, and seemed to realize for the first time that she was standing on ice. She looked up at Mrs. Granville with an expression of panic.

"No! Don't try to run!" Mrs. Granville said, forcefully. "Please listen to me, dear! Stay right where you are and don't move! If you try to run, you'll fall through the ice! Just stay right there! I'll be down in a second!"

Mrs. Granville, Harry, and Clarence ran to the edge of the bridge, and skidded down the snow-covered slope. As they reached the river's edge, Harry put out a hand and grabbed Mrs. Granville's shoulder, stopping her from running out onto the ice.

"No, wait!" he shouted. "If you run out there, you'll both fall through!"

Mrs. Granville looked at the little girl. "How do we get to her?"

Standing on the edge of the ice, the child was a forlorn figure. Her face was twisted in terror. Her lip quivered as she started to cry. The snowball that she had been rolling lay discarded next to her feet. She stood rigidly, trying very hard not to move. But Harry could see that any second now, she would panic and bolt for the shore.

Behind her, the river rushed by at a furious pace. The ice-choked water made a sound like a hungry monster as it roared underneath the stone bridge. It almost seemed to Harry as if the river current wanted the little girl, as if it was trying to pull her off the sheet of ice by sheer force, and into its freezing clutches.

Yes!

the current seemed to say. Give her to me!

"She's not that big," Harry said, looking at the child. "I can probably levitate her off the ice." He reached into his pocket for his wand --

And discovered that his wand wasn't there!

"Oh, my God!" Harry exclaimed. "My wand! I must have left it back at the Three Broomsticks! Do you have your--?"

Mrs. Granville shook her head, helplessly. "I-I left it at home today!"

And then, over the roar of the river current, Harry heard an unmistakable loud cracking sound!

The little girl in the pink cloak looked down in horror as long cracks appeared in the ice surrounding her feet. There was a loud "CRUNCH!" The snowball next to her feet dropped through a hole in the ice and disappeared.

The child looked up at Harry, pleading. The next second, the ice collapsed underneath her and she fell straight through into the river.

Before Harry knew what was happening, Mrs. Granville dashed out onto the ice. Harry started to follow her, but stopped himself just in time. He knew that the two of them together would be far too much weight for the ice to support.

He watched in amazement as the old woman in the red coat reached the edge of the sheet of ice and carefully lay down on her side, at the place where the child had disappeared. He expected the ice to collapse under Mrs. Granville's body at any moment, but it did not.

The child bobbed to the surface, sputtering and crying. The river current had caught her, and was starting to carry her downstream. She was already past the edge of the ice, well out of Mrs. Granville's reach.

But Mrs. Granville suddenly threw one end of her long red scarf out into the river. It landed next to the child's hands.

"Grab the scarf, dear!" Mrs. Granville shouted. "Oh, please, grab the scarf!"

The child grabbed the end of the red scarf. She held on as the current tried to drag her away, her legs dangling out behind her in the water. Her face was pale-white, and her eyes were wide with terror.

"That's it!" Mrs. Granville shouted to the girl. She clutched the other end of the scarf as it pulled tight. "Keep holding on! Don't let go!"

Very slowly, the old woman began to pull the child towards her, hand over hand, as if she were reeling in a fish on a line. The strain showed on Mrs. Granville's face as she dragged the little girl back towards the edge of the ice. It was taking all her strength to pull the child upstream against the rushing water. The child wailed in fear as the current attacked her small body, kicking up angry white foam around her as she clung desperately to her lifeline.

Harry's mind was racing. How do we get them off the ice? How do we get them back to shore without falling through the ice ourselves? Make a human chain! Isn't that how it's done? Make a human chain on the ice!

He vaguely remembered seeing an old movie somewhere, in which a boy had fallen through the ice while skating on a pond. His friends, who had been skating with him, had saved the boy by lying down on the ice and forming a human chain to pull him to safety.

"We need a human chain to bring them in! We need more people!" Harry said to Clarence. He turned and shouted back up the bank, towards the clearing. "HELP! ANYONE! WE NEED SOME HELP DOWN HERE!"

He waited, but no one appeared at the top of the slope in response to his call. Harry looked at Clarence, who seemed to be watching what was happening out on the river with a strange kind of detachment.

"You're supposed to be an angel!" Harry shouted, outraged. "Why don't you do something?"

Clarence pointed across the ice. "Look!"

Harry turned and saw that Mrs. Granville had pulled the child almost to the edge of the ice. The old woman was gasping for breath, her face white, as she reached out with one hand and caught the little girl by her wrist. She pulled the child closer, and shifted her weight on the ice so she could lean out past the edge and grab the little girl around her waist with one arm.

And then Harry heard that all-too-familiar unmistakable cracking sound -- only it seemed louder and more urgent this time. He looked down and saw thick jagged cracks spreading through the ice in all directions, like tiny black caterpillars scurrying across a frozen arctic plain.

It's breaking up!

Harry thought. Oh, God, it's all breaking up! NOW what do I do?

As Mrs. Granville hauled the little girl up and out of the water, there was a gruesome, shattering "CRUNCH!" The entire sheet of ice along the riverbank broke into pieces at once, like a huge jigsaw puzzle. Clutching the child to her, Mrs. Granville looked back towards the shore, and was shocked to find that she was now completely surrounded by water. She lay on a slab of ice, barely four feet long, just large enough for her and the child.

The current caught the slab of ice and carried Mrs. Granville and the child away from the shore. Harry watched in disbelief. As the ice raft floated under the bridge, it tilted slightly in the water and he saw that it was about six inches thick. He wondered how long it could stay upright with an old woman and a little girl lying on it.

He turned and scrambled back up the snow-covered slope. At the top of the bank, he ran to the other side of the stone bridge, just as the ice raft with Mrs. Granville and the child emerged from underneath it. The old woman looked up at him helplessly as the current carried them downstream. The whole scene was incredibly, almost ridiculously surreal, like something out of a silent movie!

On the far side of the stone bridge was a wooded area that ran along the river's edge, over the top of a small hill. Harry dashed through the woods. The snow pounded under his feet as he dodged right and left through a maze of shadowy pine trees, trying to keep the river and the floating ice raft in sight. His legs collided with a tangle of gnarled branches, and Harry went down. As he landed face-first on the ground, his chin smacked painfully on the side of a rotten log, half-buried in the snow.

Harry jumped to his feet. His lower lip was throbbing. He touched his mouth and looked at his hand, but there was no blood. He kept running.

He came out of the woods at the top of a bluff overlooking the river. Just down the bluff, the river dropped sharply over the edge of a fifteen-foot precipice. It was a place known locally as "The Falls."

During his visit to the park the previous October, Harry had visited the lagoon at the bottom of The Falls, with Ginny, Ron, and Hermione. They had stood together for several minutes, watching in awe as the falling water pounded the rocks underneath the precipice like a jackhammer, sending up columns of steaming mist. It was not a high waterfall, Harry knew, but it was a dangerous one. The jagged rocks at the base of The Falls stuck out of the water like pointed teeth. Anyone who might be swept over The Falls would surely be impaled on the rocks below.

Now, Harry watched in terror as the ice raft bearing Mrs. Granville and the little girl was carried towards the edge of The Falls. There was a small sandbar at the top of the waterfall, about a foot long and tangled with branches and driftwood. It stuck out of the water like the nose of a sleeping giant. As the ice raft carrying the old woman and the small child was swept towards the brink, it suddenly shifted into the center of the stream. It crashed onto the sandbar, and the current drove it up onto the driftwood tangle.

The ice raft stopped at the very top of The Falls. Mrs. Granville and the small child looked around in horror, their arms wrapped around each other. They lay together frozen with fear on the bobbing ice raft, afraid to move. One wrong shift of their weight would dislodge them and send them over the waterfall. At the same time, the current was battering the ice raft mercilessly, trying to force it over the edge. But the ice raft remained lodged on the sandbar and refused to budge.

Harry slid down the bluff. He reached the edge of the river and stared helplessly at the ice raft, trapped in the center of the stream with two people on it. The raft wasn't far from the shore -- about twenty feet, he calculated. It would take maybe six large steps to reach it. But there was no way to get across. The stream was too deep, and the current was moving much too fast. He could hear the staccato pounding of the falling water as it slammed down on the rocks in the lagoon below. If he tried to reach the ice raft by wading through the stream, he would be swept over The Falls the instant he stepped into the river.

The ice raft was shaking violently as the current tried to shove it past the sandbar and over the precipice. Mrs. Granville hugged the child to her. She looked across the water at Harry. He could read the thoughts in her terror-stricken eyes. Please! Do something! Help us!

Six steps! Harry thought. Only six steps across to reach them! If I only had my wand!

"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?! GO HELP THEM!!"

Harry turned to see Clarence standing at the top of the bluff, looking down at him. The young man who claimed to be an angel had a furious expression on his face.

"I can't reach them!" Harry shouted back. "The current's too fast! And I don't have my wand!"

"You don't need your wand!" Clarence yelled. "Just step across the stream to them! It's easy! But you've got to do it now, before it's too late!"

Is he crazy!

Harry stared at the icy water as it rushed past him and tumbled over the brink of The Falls. He looked back at Clarence. "I can't do that! It's impossible!"

Clarence threw up his hands, impatiently. "What's impossible, Harry?! It is impossible for a boy to fly on a broomstick?! Is it impossible to pull a magic stone from a mirror?! Is it impossible to pull a sword from a hat and slay a basilisk?!"

"This is different!" Harry yelled, gesturing to the stream. "I can't walk across water! I'm not a god!"

"You don't have to be a god! Saint Peter wasn't a god when he walked on the Sea of Galilee! He wasn't even a saint when he did it! He was just a fisherman! But he could walk on water because he believed! And that's what you've got to do, Harry! There's a way across! All you have to do is find it!"

Harry felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He shook his head, helplessly. "I don't have that kind of faith."

"Then find what you do have faith in, and use that!" Clarence shouted. "Anyone can use faith, Harry! You just have to find it within yourself, no matter how small it is! Whatever it is you believe in, now's the time to use it! So find it and use it...NOW!"

Harry looked across the stream at the old woman and the young child, still clinging to each other on the ice raft at the edge of The Falls. He closed his eyes.

What do I believe in?

Do I believe that there is good and evil in this world? Do I believe that the good path is the right path? The just path? Do I believe that the good in the world is stronger than the evil and will eventually overcome it?

Yes, I do!

Do I believe that those we love stay with us, even after they are gone? Do I believe that they watch over us and guide us, even after they leave this Earth?

Yes, I do!

Do I believe that my father's spirit exists within me? And that that spirit is so strong, so powerful, that I can use it to conjure a Patronus bright enough to drive away all the Dementors of Azkaban?

Yes, I believe that!

Do I believe that my mother's love exists within my blood? A love so strong that she was willing to sacrifice her own life to save me? A love so powerful that it protected me from the deadliest wizard and the deadliest spell on Earth? Do I believe that that love exists within me and protects me even today?

Oh, yes, I believe that!

Do I believe that I am the embodiment of my father and my mother? My father's face and my mother's eyes? My mother's heart and my father's spirit? Do I believe that what they have given me is so strong, so powerful that it can guide me through the trials that lie ahead, whatever they may be?

Harry opened his eyes.

DAMN STRAIGHT I DO!

Mrs. Granville and the small child were staring back at him from across the stream, still clutching each other. The ice raft they were lying on was trembling even more violently. Any second now, it would break apart, or become dislodged from the sandbar and topple over The Falls.

Six steps!

Harry thought. That's all it would take! Six large steps to reach the center of the stream! There's a way across! All I have to do is find it!

He looked downstream, but saw only the rushing, icy water plunging over the brink of The Falls, and the steam rising up from the pool below. There was no way across there that he could see.

He looked upstream. Small chunks of ice were still rushing past him, being carried past the sandbar and over The Falls by the swift current. Here came a chunk now, a flat chunk about the size of a dinner plate. It was moving very close to the riverbank. In a few seconds, it would pass by the shore just a few feet in front of him.

And without even thinking about it, Harry stepped off the shore and landed on the plate-sized chunk of ice!

To his amazement, the chunk of ice stopped dead in the water underneath his feet! Harry stared down in complete shock. When he had stepped off the shore, he had put the entire weight of his body down on this tiny chunk of ice. By all the laws of physics, it should have been too small to hold him up. The chunk of ice should have sunk beneath him when he'd stepped on it, or slipped out from under his feet and sent him crashing into the stream and tumbling over the Falls.

But it was floating! The chunk of ice was standing perfectly still in the stream with the water rushing by all around, and Harry standing on top of it!

It's not moving!

Harry thought. It's standing still in the river! And it's supporting my weight! I don't believe--!

The chunk of ice wobbled suddenly under his foot! Harry tottered dangerously, arms pinwheeling. He felt his shoes sink into the icy stream and then bob back up again as the chunk of ice steadied itself in the current.

Don't THINK about it!

he commanded himself. Don't question it! Don't ask how it's being done! Just go with it! Look for a way across!

He looked up the stream, and saw another chunk of ice, just barely large enough for him to stand on, being carried downstream by the current. In another few seconds, it would pass him in the stream, right in front of him.

THAT'S how to do it! It's like stepping stones! Five steps to the center of the stream! Here it comes! NOW!

As the second chunk of ice passed in front of him, Harry jumped. The moment his feet left the first chunk of ice, it was suddenly swept away and carried over The Falls by the current. The moment Harry's feet landed on the second chunk of ice, it too came to a dead stop and floated unmoving in the fast-running stream, just as the first chunk of ice had done. Harry stood precariously on the second chunk of ice, swaying like a man on a tightrope, his arms out at his sides to balance himself,.

Keep going! Keep going! Four steps to the center of the stream! Here it comes!

Another chunk of ice was floating downstream towards him! When the third chunk of ice passed in front of him, Harry jumped onto it. Once again, the chunk of ice stopped, and stood perfectly still in the current, with Harry bobbing on it. The second chunk of ice, the one that he had just left, was instantly swept over The Falls.

Keep going!

Harry told himself. Three steps to go! Look for the next chunk of ice! Where is it?

He looked upstream, expecting to see a new chunk of ice being carried towards him by the current. But nothing came.

Come on! Come on! Where the hell is it?!

He waited for what seemed like an eternity, and still no chunk of ice came floating downstream, although the current seemed to be moving faster now. He looked across the steam at Mrs. Granville. She lay on the shuddering ice raft at the brink of The Falls, still clutching the small child to her. She was staring at Harry in terror and wonder, as he stood motionless on the floating ice chunk.

Harry turned and looked over his shoulder at the riverbank, three steps behind him. He was trapped a quarter of the way across the river. He couldn't go forward or back. He looked upstream once more, but no new ice chunk came to save him. And to make matters worse, he felt the ice chunk that he was standing on slowly start to sink underneath his feet.

He looked up at the sky, where the purple clouds, thick with snow, seemed ready to burst!

All right! You got me halfway out here! Now what are You waiting for? What is it You want? Do You want me to ask for Your help? Is that what You want? All right, then! I'm ASKING! Now HELP me, dammit!

Harry looked upstream again. A new chunk of ice was now moving downstream, being carried toward him by the current. It was the smallest chunk of ice yet, barely the size of a teacup saucer. But Harry saw that this chunk of ice would pass behind him. To step on it, he would have to take one step back!

You're playing with me! Harry thought. You're LAUGHING at me! This is all a big bloody JOKE to You, isn't it?! We're all like Your playthings, that You can toy with and do as You please! There is NO WAY I'm going to--!

But his feet were slowly sinking into the freezing river as the chunk of ice he was standing on seemed to give out underneath him. With nowhere else to go, Harry took one step back towards the riverbank, landing on the fourth chunk of ice as it passed behind him. Once again, his new foothold stopped dead in the current, with the water rushing around it. The third chunk of ice, the one Harry had just been standing on, bobbed to the surface and was immediately carried over The Falls.

Harry swayed back and forth like a circus performer trying to balance on a large ball. The chunk of ice was barely large enough for both his feet to stand on. He squared his heels on the tiny ice chunk, his toes sticking dangerously out over the edge of it.

All right! I'm here! Four steps from the center of the stream! Now what?!

He looked upstream and saw a large block of ice the size and shape of an ironing board floating his way! Harry realized that once he stepped on this block of ice, he would be able to take two steps across. He also realized that if he had not taken one step back a moment ago, this new block of ice would have hit the chunk that he had been standing on before. It would have knocked him down like a tenpin and sent him over The Falls.

You're a real piece of work, You know that?

Harry thought, his teeth clenched. You're really ENJOYING this, aren't You?!

As the huge block of ice moved past him, he jumped on it. The small ice chunk that Harry had just been standing on disappeared over the waterfall. The block of ice stopped in midstream, as the others had done, but the current continued to rage against it, sweeping huge, foamy waves up over its frozen edge as it hovered in the stream. Harry took two quick steps across the ice block. He looked upriver.

Come on! Two steps to go! Don't make me wait for it!

The next ice chunk that came floating downstream was pitifully small. Harry thought that it looked like an ice cube that his Aunt Petunia might drop into his Uncle Vernon's glass when she fixed him a double Scotch-on-the-rocks after a long day at the office. It was barely large enough for Harry to put one foot down on, let alone two.

But it was enough.

As it swept past the ice block he was standing on, Harry stepped forward. His right foot came down on the small chunk of ice and it stopped momentarily in the stream. He kept going, swinging his left foot forward as if he were stepping across a mud puddle in the street on a rainy day. His right foot left the small chunk of ice, and it followed the large ice block over The Falls.

And Harry stood with both feet on the ice raft lodged on the sandbar, where Mrs. Granville was still clutching the small child. The old woman stared up at him in amazement. He held out his hand to her.

"Give me your hand!"

She shook her head, terrified.

"We've got to walk back across the river," Harry told her. "We don't have much time! Give me your hand!"

"I can't do it!" Mrs. Granville cried. "I'm too scared!"

"How can you be scared?" Harry shouted. "You just ran out onto the ice to save this kid!"

Mrs. Granville looked down at the little girl she was holding. The old woman seemed startled, as if she had momentarily forgotten that the child was there.

Harry noticed that Mrs. Granville was still clutching her red scarf -- the scarf that she had thrown to the child a few minutes ago to save her, the scarf that her husband had given her. He reached out, grabbed the scarf, and yanked it out of her hand. Grabbing Mrs. Granville's arm with his left hand, he quickly wound the red scarf around both their arms, tying their wrists together.

"You said your husband gave you this!" he yelled, above the roar of The Falls. "He must have loved you very much, for you to miss him as much as you do. Think about that love right now. Would he have wanted you to give up?"

Mrs. Granville shook her head. Harry held up their wrists, bound together by the red scarf.

"We can make it across!" Harry shouted. "But you've got to keep thinking of his love for you, and your love for him! It's strong enough to hold us both up!"

Mrs. Granville looked at the scarf that tied their wrists together, then looked at Harry again.

"Can you carry the child?" Harry asked.

The old woman nodded. "Yes."

Harry lifted his arm and pulled Mrs. Granville up. She stood up unsteadily on the ice raft. The little girl hugged the old woman tightly around the neck, her small face white with terror. Harry looked up the stream.

Six steps back to the shore!

he thought. Here it comes!

A chunk of ice, barely large enough for two people to stand on, was moving downstream towards them.

"We've got to step across the ice. Step only when I tell you to step. NOW!"

As the chunk of ice passed in front of the ice raft, Harry and Mrs. Granville both stepped forward. Harry put his left foot down on one side of the ice chunk, just as Mrs. Granville put her right foot down on the other side. The ice chunk came to a dead stop underneath their feet, and they stood together on it, balancing like a pair of Chinese acrobats on a teeter-totter.

The instant they stepped off the ice raft, the current gave a huge surge and pushed the ice raft up and over the sandbar. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw the ice raft disappear over The Falls. He heard it crash down on the rocks in the pool below with a sound like an exploding artillery shell. Somehow, he knew that if he, Mrs. Granville, and the child had stayed on the raft a moment longer, all three of them would now be at the bottom of The Falls.

Good thing I tied our wrists together,

Harry thought, dizzily. His left foot and Mrs. Granville's right foot were planted squarely in the center of the ice chunk that they stood on, while his right foot and Mrs. Granville's left dangled out over the water. With their wrists bound together, they could hold each other up and keep the balance. But if their wrists hadn't been tied together, Harry knew, they probably would have both toppled over sideways into the river by now.

"Oh, my!" cried Mrs. Granville.

"Don't think about it!" Harry shouted. "Just think about getting across!"

Another chunk of ice, this one slightly larger than the one they stood on, was moving downstream towards The Falls.

"Here we go!" Harry yelled. "Get ready! GO!"

He and Mrs. Granville both stepped forward onto the new chunk of ice. Again, it stopped dead under their feet, while the chunk of ice they had just been standing on was swept over the waterfall. Harry and Mrs. Granville stood very close, on tiptoe, their heels hanging over the edge of the ice chunk.

At the top of the bluff, a young boy suddenly appeared beside Clarence. Harry recognized the boy as one of the little girl's older brothers, who had been building the snowman in the clearing with the rest of the family.

The boy stared down at the stream in horror. Then he turned and shouted back through the woods. "Mum! Mum! Over here!"

"Don't pay any attention to him right now!" Harry told Mrs. Granville. "Here comes another stepping stone! GO!"

Harry and Mrs. Granville stepped forward, onto another chunk of ice as it headed downstream. Again, the ice chunk they had just been standing on was instantly swept away by the current.

Three steps to the shore!

Harry thought. Come on! Don't keep us waiting!

The little girl's older sister and other older brother appeared at the top of the bluff beside Clarence. They were joined by two more people, the middle-aged wizard with the graying beard, and his wife, the yellow-haired witch, that Harry and Clarence had spoken to earlier. Harry thought that perhaps the older couple had stopped to help the family in their search for the missing child.

The ice chunk that Harry and Mrs. Granville were standing on was being battered and shaken by the river current. Once again, Harry imagined that he heard the roar of a hungry monster coming out of the fast-moving water.

No!

it seemed to say. You can't have them! You can't take them from me! They are MINE!

"Like hell!" Harry growled, through his teeth.

"What?!" shouted Mrs. Granville, above the noise of the current.

"Never mind! Get ready to jump again! NOW!"

Another ice chunk came floating downstream. Harry wasn't sure, but these "stepping stones" seemed to be getting larger as he and Mrs. Granville got closer to the shore! They stepped forward onto the new chunk of ice. Again, it froze unmoving in the stream, while the ice chunk they had just been standing on went straight over The Falls.

The little girl's mother appeared at the top of the bluff. Her hand flew to her mouth and she gave a loud shriek as she looked down at the river.

"MUMMY!" the little girl screamed.

"Just hang on a minute longer, dear!" Mrs. Granville shouted to the child that she was holding. "We're almost safe now!"

Two steps to the shore!

Harry thought. Here it comes!

Another ice chunk, large enough for both of them to stand on easily, was heading downstream towards them.

"GO!" Harry shouted.

The people on the bluff watched in awe as Harry and Mrs. Granville took one step forward, onto another chunk of ice, which stopped underneath their feet. Then, Harry and Mrs. Granville took one more step forward -- and stood upon the riverbank. Behind them, the last two chunks of ice disappeared over The Falls.

And just like that, it was over.

Harry and Mrs. Granville stood together on the shore, looking down at their feet, hardly able to believe that they were once more standing on dry land. Even the child, still clutching Mrs. Granville's neck, was looking down at the ground in shock.

Finally, Mrs. Granville looked at Harry. "My God!"

Harry smiled as he pulled his hand out of the scarf that had bound their wrists together. "No. Just one of His many loyal servants."

The little girl's mother came rushing down the bluff. "Carolyn! Oh, Carolyn!"

"Mummy!" shrieked the little girl.

Mrs. Granville held the child out as her mother reached the edge of the riverbank. The mother grabbed her child in a bear hug, sobbing. "Oh, thank you! Thank you!"

The child's brothers and sister came down the bluff to join their mother. Other wizards and witches, who had apparently been helping the family to search the park, were appearing at the top of the slope. Harry recognized two Hufflepuff seventh-years in the crowd. The middle-aged wizard and his wife, who had been standing at the top of the bluff, came down the bank. The wizard took off his heavy cloak and held it out to the sobbing mother.

"She soaking wet," he said, referring to the little girl. "Here. Wrap her up in this."

The mother took the cloak and wrapped her child in it. "I-I just turned my back for a minute, and she was gone! We followed her footprints down to the riverbank by the bridge! We were afraid she'd fallen through the ice into the river!"

"She did," Harry said. He put his hand on the shoulder of the old woman standing beside him. "But Mrs. Granville ran out onto the ice and pulled her out of the water. She's the one who saved your daughter's life."

Mrs. Granville looked at Harry, startled. Still holding her child, the mother stepped forward and threw her other arm around Mrs. Granville, pulling her close. "Oh, thank you so much! Thank you so much!"

The old woman seemed shaken by the sudden embrace. But she gently put her arms around the sobbing mother. "It's all right, dear. Everything's all right now."

As casually as he could, Harry backed out of the small crowd that had gathered by the river's edge. He looked around and suddenly realized that it was snowing! Big, puffy white flakes were falling from the sky. The purple clouds overhead had finally decided to give up their burden.

Clarence was standing alone at the top of the bluff. Legs shaking, Harry climbed up the slope. His heart was pounding and his face was flushed red.

When he reached the angel, he stopped and looked back at the brink of The Falls. The water was still rushing over the edge, as it had for centuries past, and would for centuries still to come. It almost seemed as if nothing had ever happened there.

"Did you do that?" Harry asked. "Were you the one holding me up?"

"No, Harry," replied Clarence. "It was you. I told you...all you had to do was find a way across. I just gave you a push in the right direction."

"Could I ever do that again?"

"You could try," Clarence said. He suddenly laughed. "But I wouldn't!"

Harry found he was laughing as well. "'Don't fuck around with the Infinite,' is that it?"

Clarence laughed even harder. "I think the Scriptures put it a bit more eloquently. Something like, 'Don't put Heaven to the test.'" He stopped laughing and looked at Harry. "Your lip's bleeding."

"Hmm?" Harry touched his mouth and looked at his glove. There was blood on his finger, and he realized now that his lower lip was quivering with pain. But he didn't care. The pain felt surprisingly good.

"What do you know about that? Must've happened when I took that fall in the woods a few minutes ago." He looked back at the rushing river once more. "I still can't believe I did that! I mean, I can't believe I just...stepped off the shore onto a moving chunk of ice like I did."

Clarence shrugged. "Well...sometimes angels rush in where fools fear to tread."

Mrs. Granville had extracted herself from the crowd and was walking up the bluff towards them. Her red scarf was around her neck once more.

"You see?" Clarence said, as the old woman reached the top of the slope. "You did have a reason to stay on this Earth."

Mrs. Granville looked at him, sheepishly. "Yes, I suppose I did. Thank you...both of you...for helping me to find it."

"We did nothing," Clarence told her. "You were the one who ran out onto the ice to save the child. You had the courage within you to do that."

"Did I?" The old woman shook her head in wonder. "In all my life, I never would have thought myself capable of being a hero."

"I know exactly how you feel," Harry said.

A sudden commotion sounded from the riverbank. The people who had gathered there were shouting in fear and alarm.

"What happened?!"

"Is she okay?"

"I don't know!"

"Ma'am, are you all right?"

"What on earth?" said Mrs. Granville. She walked back down the bluff towards the crowd. Curious, Harry followed her. At the bottom of the slope, he pushed his way through the mass of people -- and froze!

Mrs. Granville was lying on her back on the riverbank with her eyes closed. But that was completely impossible, because Mrs. Granville was also standing right beside him, looking down in terror at the figure lying on the ground!

"She just collapsed!" said a voice in the crowd. "Is she all right?"

Harry stared in shock and disbelief at the old woman lying in the snow. She had Mrs. Granville's wrinkled face and white hair. And she was wearing Mrs. Granville's red winter coat. He looked to his right at the old woman standing beside him. She had the exact same face, white hair, and red coat...but she wore a red scarf around her neck.

His eyes weren't playing tricks on him. There were TWO Mrs. Granvilles on the riverbank! Like twins! One was lying on the snow-covered ground, and the other was standing up, right beside him!

The Mrs. Granville who was standing beside Harry pointed in horror at the Mrs. Granville who was lying on the ground. "Wh-who...who is that?!"

Snowflakes fell on the Mrs. Granville who was lying on the ground. The mother of the child that Mrs. Granville and Harry had just saved was kneeling beside the old woman, holding her hand. The little girl, still wrapped in a heavy cloak, had been handed over to her oldest brother.

"Can someone please help her?" the mother cried frantically, looking down at the Mrs. Granville on the ground. "Please! She just saved my daughter's life! Someone please help her!"

"Could somebody go get a Healer?" asked the middle-aged wizard who had given his winter cloak to the child.

"I'll go, dear," said his wife. She pulled out her magic wand, and said "Apparate!" There was a loud Crack!, and she disappeared in a flash of smoke.

"But I don't need a Healer!" shouted the Mrs. Granville who was standing up beside Harry. "I'm perfectly fine!" She pointed at the Mrs. Granville lying in the snow. "That's not me!"

It's a boggart!

Harry thought, dazed. It's GOT to be! It's like that vision that Mrs. Weasley saw at Sirius's house, when she tried to take on the boggart in the old desk! She saw me, and Ron and Ginny and the rest of her children lying dead! THAT'S what this is! It's some kind of hallucination!

But something deep in his heart told him that this was NOT a boggart vision, or any other type of hallucination.

The wizard with the graying beard was kneeling beside the Mrs. Granville who was lying in the snow. "She's not breathing."

"There must be something you can do for her, please!" sobbed the mother of the little girl.

"What's the matter with all of you?!" cried the Mrs. Granville who was standing beside Harry. "I'm right here! I'm perfectly all right!" She pointed again to the Mrs. Granville who was lying in the snow. "I'm telling you, that's not me!"

Harry looked around at the people gathered on the riverbank. None of them seemed to pay any attention to the Mrs. Granville who was standing beside him, yelling at the top of her lungs.

They can't see her or hear her,

he realized with a sudden jolt. Only I can!

Mrs. Granville turned and looked up the slope past Harry, to where Clarence was still standing alone. She headed toward the angel. Harry followed.

"You!" Mrs. Granville called to Clarence, as she climbed up the bluff once more. "Young man! There's a...there's a woman down there who needs help! Please, you must help her!"

"It's all right," Clarence said, calmly.

Mrs. Granville pointed back down the slope, to where the body with her face lay in the snow. "No, no! You don't understand! That woman down there! You've got to help her! Please!"

"I can't help her," said the angel. "But don't worry. It's going to be all right."

"No, it's not all right!" Mrs. Granville insisted. "I -- I can't be..."

"It happens to everyone, eventually. If you think about it, it's happened to most of the people who have come to this world. It even happened to me once. And now it's happened to you."

Again, Mrs. Granville pointed to the body lying in the snow at the bottom of the slope. "But that's -- that's -- !"

"That's just your mortal form," Clarence explained. "In a few hours, you won't even miss it."

The old woman looked at him. "But -- but -- HOW?!"

"Your heart gave out, dear. You put so much of yourself -- all your energy, all your courage, everything you had -- into saving that little girl, that your heart just couldn't take the stress. It gave out on you."

"But...can't you fix it, somehow?!" asked Mrs. Granville.

Clarence shook his head. "I know. It's very sad when a heart so full of love stops beating. But as I said, it happens to everyone sooner or later."

A loud Crack! sounded from the riverbank. Harry looked down the slope. The yellow-haired witch had just returned with a wizard Healer, a thin man with white hair and a shrunken, wrinkled face. The Healer carried a black leather bag, like a doctor's bag. He knelt beside Mrs. Granville's body and touched her throat, feeling for a pulse. Then he looked up at the gathered crowd and sadly shook his head.

The mother, Harry noticed, had picked up her little girl once more. Both of them were crying.

"But I had a reason to stay on this earth!" Mrs. Granville protested. "I had a reason to stay!"

"And you fulfilled that reason!" Clarence nodded to the little girl being held by her mother. "That little girl is alive because of you! She's going to grow up and have a happy life now, because you saved her!"

He looked at Mrs. Granville. "If you'd thrown yourself off the bridge today, like you planned, you wouldn't have been there to save that child when she needed you. She would be dead now, if not for you! But you gave up your own life to save hers! I know it's cold comfort, but there really is no greater or more noble sacrifice in this world!"

"But -- but -- "

"Tell me," said Clarence. "If you had known that this would be the result, would you have hesitated for one second to run out onto the ice and save the child, as you did?"

Mrs. Granville looked at the angel, timidly. After a moment, she slowly shook her head. Then she gestured once more to her body, lying in the snow. "But I didn't even know that...what I mean is...I didn't..."

Clarence smiled, understandingly. "You didn't feel it when it happened, did you? You always thought dying was going to be a painful thing, a horrible thing. But you didn't even realize it had happened to you until you saw your body lying there."

"But what am I going to do without my body? I can't--"

"Mrs. Granville, it's all right!" Clarence gestured to the old woman who stood before him. "You're still here! Don't you understand? This is you! This is what you are! Everything about you that was worth preserving -- your love, your courage, your compassion -- it survives! It goes on and on! You haven't ceased to exist! You've simply passed on into a new level of existence!"

Slowly, Mrs. Granville raised her hand to her mouth. "Oh, my goodness."

"It's sad when your mortal life ends. Believe me, I know. But the ending is also a beginning. Your mortal life is over. But the life of your spirit has just begun. And the life of the spirit lasts a long, long time."

"Oh, my goodness." Mrs. Granville suddenly looked at Clarence. "I know you!"

"They sent me down today to bring you home," Clarence said, smiling. "That's the way it usually goes with someone who has given an extraordinary amount of love in their lifetime. Often, they send a relative down to retrieve them, someone who has gone on before them. Don't worry. I'm going to take good care of you."

"I know you!" Mrs. Granville said again. Very slowly, she raised her hand to touch the angel's dark-skinned face.

"Cedric! Oh, Cedric, is it really you!"