Harry Potter and the Ancient Secret of War

Chapter Eighteen

Walking with the Dead

Harry sat around the circular table in the large, spacious kitchen downstairs. His father was sitting to his right, reading a newspaper while his mother made some kippers, bacon and toast for breakfast.

Lily laid down the food in front of Harry and the three of them sat down to enjoy the meal. Harry found himself quite hungry. He dug into the food. It tasted extremely delicious. Evidently, Lily Potter was a very good cook indeed. Harry hungrily devoured most of his breakfast. It wasn't a pretty sight - the way he was wolfing everything down. It was more like Ron was the one eating at the table.

"Harry dear," Lily said, "Slow down! There is no need to wolf everything down so fast. The food is not running away anywhere."

"Calm down Lily!" James told his wife. "Let him eat his fill. He is a growing boy after all."

Harry grinned at his father, but did indeed, slow down his pace. All of a sudden though, another doubt shrouded his mind. His hands relaxed and his mind whirred up into overdrive.

"What's the matter, Harry?" Lily asked. "I asked you to eat slowly, not stop eating altogether. Is there something wrong with the bacon, honey?"

"No, no, not at all," Harry replied, shaking his head, "The food is fine...in fact, it's delicious...But I was just thinking...If this is just an illusion instead of something concrete, why do we have to eat? Why do we have to do anything at all?"

Lily looked pointedly at James, who removed his glasses and put down his newspaper on the table. He turned to Harry and said, "We wondered how soon you'd reason that out...how soon you'd ask us that question."

"Then I suppose you have an answer ready as well," Harry said.

"Right," James replied, "You see Harry, these are all tricks that your mind is playing on you. You are being supplied with images of a reality which does not exist. In other words, your mind is imposing its own will upon you. In an attempt to supplant the truth and make you believe in this reality, it has conjured up these images for you - to make the illusion all the more believable."

"I don't understand-" Harry began to say, but Lily cut him off.

She said, "You see Harry, this is like an alternate universe; only it is something that your mind dictates. In this universe, there is no Lord Voldemort. He remained as Tom Riddle and the Dark Lord never did exist. It's a universe in which we never died, in which you never had to live with Petunia. Tell me what your reaction would be if all these things were real."

"I'd be the happiest person alive," Harry replied, without needing to think.

"Precisely." James said, "You're in an illusion in which everything you ever wanted has come true. That's what your mind has done. You are now under the control of your mind, a prisoner, to be more precise."

"But what about both of you?" Harry asked.

"We are but echoes of our real selves," James replied. "Something like who you met in the graveyard the summer before last."

"How do you know everything about the real world then, if you are in this illusion?" Harry asked, not really knowing what to make of all the information that he was getting.

"Because we are already dead in that illusion," Lily answered.

Harry leant back in his chair. Everything seemed so surreal. "I don't know what to think," he said finally.

"Then don't think about anything at the moment," Lily told him, "Finish up your breakfast. You'll have plenty of time to think then."

"But you said I don't need to eat," Harry said.

"Well you don't," James responded, "But your mind seems to think otherwise. And since at the moment, you haven't thought of everything, it's better to adhere to its will just for the time being." He shot a glance at Lily then and said, "Besides, the bacon isn't too badly burnt, is it?"

Lily gave her husband a mock glare and Harry grinned. He quickly finished up the rest of his breakfast.

After breakfast, Lily told Harry, "Go upstairs and tidy your room."

Once again, Harry objected, "Mum, I'll do it later. Besides, since this is an illusion, I don't think I really need to do that."

"Don't talk smart, Harry," Lily said, her lips forming a thin line, "Do as I say."

Harry grinned at her and nodded. He went up to his room and did as he was told. He took this opportunity also to look around his room. It was every bit like he had imagined his own room to be, his real room to be. Not too tidy, yet not overly disorganized. There was a desk near the window and Harry walked up to it. The fresh scent of flowers and the grass wafted in from the garden outside. Harry revelled in the aroma of the delicate flowers outside. It seemed so real. He couldn't bring himself to believe that something so concrete, so seemingly real, could ever be an illusion, as his parents had told him.

He sat down in the empty chair beside him and examined his desk. A few scraps of parchment were there, as were quills and inkpots. In the middle was a parchment which looked like an incomplete letter, in his own hand.

Harry picked it up and began reading the words which had no doubt come from his own heart, but of which he had no remembrance.

Dearest Hermione,

I know it's been only two days since I last wrote to you, but I'm missing you terribly. The weather here in Australia is hot and sunny, something you could never imagine back home at this time of the year. I can't believe that Christmas was only a week ago and I last saw you then. It seems a longer time to me.

I'm still peeved at you from passing up the invitation to come with us down here. I can't wait to see you again, and every day reminds me more and more of how much I really love you.

Aside from your absence which for me is a big void, everything else is fine. Mum and Dad are acting the usual. I wonder if we'll become anything remotely like them when we get married in the future...

Harry read the letter and wondered if he could ever really be so eloquent. Maybe that was another effect of the absence of the Dursleys in his life. But he was glad that some things hadn't changed. He looked at two wizard photos kept framed on his desk. One showed Ron, Hermione and himself against the backdrop of the Hogwarts lake. They seemed to be about twelve in the picture. All three of them were merrily waving at him from the photo.

The second one was of him and Hermione kissing. It was obviously during a ball of some sort, considering their attire. They seemed to be older, probably fifteen. Harry kept staring at the picture in his hands for a long time. Everything was so wonderful in this world, so right, so ideal. If this was indeed an illusion, then it was an illusion far more wholesome and desirable than reality itself.

"I'm glad you've found someone who loves you so much," came Lily's voice from behind Harry. She had come into the room and seen Harry staring fondly at the photos of himself and his friends. Harry, who was deeply immersed in his thoughts, had not noticed.

Harry looked up and saw his mother standing behind him with her hand on his shoulder. "I'm glad too," he told her.

"Well, anyway," Lily said, "I came to remind you to start packing your things. The portkey will activate in two days and you'll not want to be late for that."

"Mum," Harry said, "You said everything is an illusion, right? Then, why can't I remember anything about this life? If my mind and my fantasies are dictating what I'm seeing here, why am I still in the dark about so many things? And how do Ron and Hermione exist in this world? They are not dead, are they?"

"These are a lot of questions, Harry. I hope you appreciate that," Lily said and took the chair opposite to Harry so that they were now face-to-face. "first of all, this is all based on your dreams and fantasies. This isn't the Realm of the Dead; it is the Realm of your thought. It contains all the people you've known or seen. They are all a part of your mind and thereby, also a part of your own self and this fantastic world."

"As to your first question," Lily continued, "No one's fantasies are so elaborate that they can encompass and create a whole new world, at least not for such time as they dwell in a person's sub-conscious self. You are no exception to this. You mind, too, is aware of this very fact. So, it has weaved this entire world so intricately that even if you know it is an illusion, you wouldn't want to leave it."

"Why does it not want me to leave?" Harry asked.

"There are many external forces at work here," Lily replied, "I don't know about half of them. For one thing, I believe that your mind is no longer in your control."

"Have you always used such heavy words?" Harry asked. "You sound a lot like Dumbledore - vague and wise."

"Do I?" Lily asked, giving a short laugh, "Well, your Dad tends to think in the same fashion, even though I'm nowhere as wise as Dumbledore. Anyway, I think my language stems a lot from the fact that I was an avid English literature buff, ever since I started reading the heavy-duty stuff contained in middle-age dramas." Harry smiled.

"Mum," He began uncertainly at first, "I've never known you really well...I've never really known how you were and what you did and..."

"I know," Lily said nodding, a tear trickling down her eyes, "You want to know about me."

"Yes and no," Harry replied, "Mum, please don't feel bad... What I mean is, I feel you within me, just as I feel Dad's presence. But it's just that....that....I've heard so much about Dad and what all he did with his friends back at Hogwarts...I've heard practically everything from Sirius and Remus. But...But I've never really heard the same about you, except the occasional mention of what you did, here and there...I'm sorry if I hurt you, but I couldn't possibly meet you and not ask this."

Lily sighed. She wiped away her tear and smiled softly at Harry. "There's nothing to feel bad about, Harry. I don't mind," she said, "This was a chance we all took when the prophecy was made, a chance taken to protect you. I understand how you feel at the moment. Ask what you want to know."

"Tell me about your life at Hogwarts first," Harry answered.

"It's a simple story till then, really," Lily said, "I was a simple Muggle, never aware of all the strange things that I seemed to be making happen all the time. Then, at eleven, I went to Hogwarts, made good friends, met your Dad and fell in love with him in our seventh year and that is it, really."

"What about before Hogwarts?" Harry asked.

"Ironical, isn't it?" Lily smiled.

"What's ironical?" Harry asked in turn.

"Nothing, just that you first asked me about life at Hogwarts and then about my childhood," Lily said, "I was younger than Petunia. We were just a simple family - happy, you might say, although Petunia and I never really could get along, I'm afraid. We were too different from each other, too much."

"What about after Hogwarts?"

"I became an Unspeakable," Lily answered, "It took me two years to be one. In the meantime, I also started working with Dumbledore for the Order."

"What about you and Dad?" Harry questioned.

"Well, we were a couple ever since our seventh year," Lily said, "After our careers took off, we married. We were twenty-two at that time. And you were born two years later."

"Mum, can I ask you something?" Harry said tentatively.

"Sure, Harry," Lily smiled.

"Sirius and Remus once told me that you began to like Dad since your last year at Hogwarts. Before that, they told me, you didn't like each other much," Harry said, slightly veiling his real source.

"Yes, it is true," Lily replied, "But you should have seen your father. I mean, he believed that he was the highest, the smartest and the most privileged being on the planet. His brilliance was one thing, but strutting about the school with his friends, and pulling off the most audacious pranks on everyone - students and teachers alike - was just arrogant and infantile."

"Then how did you get together?" Harry asked, getting more and more interested in his mother's words.

"Well, there are some things that you cannot suffer without getting closer to each other. In the summer of our seventh year, I was in Diagon alley. There was a Death Eater attack. Your father risked his life and saved a lot of people, including me."

"What happened then?" Harry prompted.

"I realized at that time that he was different," Lily continued, "But it wasn't only my heart and mind which told me he had changed. In fact, he really had changed. It was like he had grown up, finally after an extended childhood he didn't want to let go of. When term started, I realized why and how much. I came to know that Death Eaters had stormed into your grandparents' home a couple of months ago. They had killed your grandparents, along with James' younger sister, Annabelle."

"Dad had a sister?" Harry exclaimed, surprised at the revelation.

"Yes, I knew Annabelle well, even though I didn't think much of James at first," Lily said, "Never believe in first impressions, that has always been my theory. She was three years younger than your Dad and was in Gryffindor with us. She was adventurous without being reckless, brilliant without being arrogant - a toned down and proper version of James. I couldn't believe when I heard she was dead.

"James changed a lot after that. Being full moon, he had gone to visit Remus at that time, and so was saved. It was as if he thought that he should have died with his family; he grew quieter, and more intense. I saw him very closely that year...since we were Head Boy and Girl. I still feel scared remembering his attitude. It was as if he did everything with the purpose of avenging his family's loss. I even heard Sirius say that he had become more distant from them."

"I didn't know..." Harry said, at a loss for words.

"Don't you see then how knowledge is a double-headed sword," Lily said, "It's not all smooth sailing, especially when it comes to life. There are joys; there are sorrows. All we can hope for is to outlast them both."

"So what happened then?" Harry inquired.

"Since we spent a lot of time with our school responsibilities," Lily resumed, "we used to see each other a lot. Slowly, that transcended into something deeper and more meaningful. Your Dad opened up slowly to me, and I got a glimpse of his real self, the person beneath the exterior. One thing gave way to another, and by the time we stopped to think about our relationship, we realized that we had fallen in love."

"Wow," Harry exclaimed softly, "That's something. Almost like a fairy tale."

"The ending wasn't," Lily countered, "Maybe for us, but not for you. Characters don't die in their own fairy tales. It is more like a story that hasn't seen its end. Only the end will then tell if it is a happy tale or an unhappy one."

"I don't get your meaning-" Harry said.

"Our story doesn't end with our death, Harry," Lily explained, "No story ever ends. It simply goes on and on; seeing seasons pass, years go by; only the characters change. Our story continues with you, Harry. We may be dead, but a part of us still lives in the mortal world in your form. You described it yourself when you said that you feel our presence within you. Many have told you that you look like James and have my eyes. This is because you are a part of us, Harry; you have sprung from us; and we keep on living through you. In that sense, our story continues."

"Mum, I'm glad I came here," Harry said after a moment's silence, "I'm glad that I came to know more about you, about who you were."

"Are you really, Harry?" Lily asked him, "You might think so at the moment, but it might not hold true a few days later, when you might not have us near you, like we are now. You need to realize Harry, that every parent is an enigma to his child. You can always know all there is to know about my life...and your Dad's...yet tomorrow, you'll have new questions to ask. That is the beauty and sanctity of the relationship between a parent and a child. Just like a parent can never ignore or hate his child, the child in turn, can never fully separate his identity from those of his parents. That's why we don't want you to stay in this delusional world, Harry...your Dad and I...We want you to wake up to reality once again. For every moment you spend here, you are losing a thousand moments in reality."

"The reality you want to send me to is dark, and bitter. I have everything I want here. All those whom I love are here," Harry said bitterly.

"But this isn't real," Lily objected, "There will always be an empty space in your heart - a void that will always be there until you return to reality. I agree, the reality is dark - darker than what most people face. But that shouldn't stop you from running from it. You have got to show courage in the face of harsh circumstances."

"Why must it always be I who should show courage? Why can't it be anyone else?" Harry questioned.

"You are not the only one in the world, Harry," Lily said, "who has lost his loved once. Yes, the responsibilities on you are much greater, but it is because you have in you, the courage to face them. You have been courageous this far; don't abandon it now. Besides, there are people who make reality worth living for you, who make you happy - Hermione, Ron, your friends - all of them are there."

"They are here as well," Harry protested, getting up and walking over to the window. The summer sun was shining brightly outside and an air of calm weaved itself around the house.

"But they aren't real," Lily said. She walked over to Harry and placed her soothing touch on his shoulder. Harry was well taller than her and she had to reach out to do so, but it calmed him down nevertheless. She continued, "Harry, I know it is difficult to let go of this, especially when you've yearned for this all your life. But you must realize that your destiny lies in the real world and not in this illusion. You must attempt to fulfil your destiny, Harry. It is what you were meant to do." Harry remained quiet and motionless. Lily continued, tears sparkling in her eyes, so like the ones she gave to her son, "Give me a reason, Harry...to believe that the sacrifice your Dad and I made for you...was just. Give me a reason to believe that our decision was right...Give me a reason to believe that our faith in you, even if you were so young then, and our hopes for you...were not unfounded."

It was all Harry could take without breaking down. He said, placing his hands on the window-sill, "I wish I had never been marked. I wish it had never been me. Why was I chosen, Mum?"

Lily replied, "You can be rest assured that it was because of some force that you possess, some quality that you have. Believe me Harry, when I say that you would never have been entrusted this destiny unless you had the power within you to fulfil it."

"Dumbledore told me the same once," Harry remarked.

"He is a wise man and an honourable one too," Lily said, "Just like you are. You've grown into a fine, young man, Harry. And I cannot tell you enough how proud James and I are of you. You've really made us proud, Harry. Even if we had the chance to bring you up ourselves, we would have wanted you to be as strong as you are now."

But Harry said, "I don't feel strong, Mum."

Lily turned Harry around to face her. It was difficult, considering that Harry was almost six inches taller than her five foot four frame, but she did it. She looked up at her son's face and saw there, a lingering self-doubt. She spoke gently to him, "I know it doesn't feel so, but you do have the strength. You only need to look into your own mind and soul to be able to access it...I want you to promise me Harry, that you will find a way out of this illusion and go back to face your destiny."

Harry remained silent. Lily put forward her palm and said, "Promise me, Harry."

Finally, Harry raised his own hand, and placed it into his mother's. "I promise," he said softly.

"And I, in turn, promise you to help you out of here," Lily said, smiling at him.

"Don't count me out then," came James' voice from across the room. He strode up to them and placed his hand on top of Harry's.

"How long have you been listening?" Lily asked him.

"As long as I needed to," James replied. "By the way, do you still think I'm arrogant and thick-headed?"

"Stop it, James," Lily said, "Pay attention to your age, at least."

James grinned at her. Then he turned to Harry and said, "Your mother spoke truly, Harry. We're very proud of who you've become. We really are!"

"Thanks Dad!" was all Harry could say before the three of them shared a group hug. Once again, Harry felt a pang of regret, thinking about the possibilities that might have materialized, had he grown up with his parents.

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