Shadows of the Past

Everything seemed to move in slow motion around them. People were gathering all around, some screaming; others, crying. Dumbledore had never looked so frail and old, sitting there, Harry’s lifeless body beside him. There was a swirl of hysteria as Hermione let out a heart-wrenching scream and fell down beside him, whimpering. Ron started to go to her, but was stopped by Dumbledore, who out his hand to stop him, his eyes asking Ron to give Hermione a moment. All Ron could do was nod, feeling a choke in his throat as he looked at his two best friends.

“No, please…Harry, no, wake up. This can’t be…please…I need you, “she whimpered, pulling his limp body to her. He was cool to the touch, and his cheeks were turning a milky white, a stark contrast to the rosy pink they had been just minutes before. “Please don’t leave me, Harry…I….I love you.” And she leaned over and sobbed into his shirt, grabbing at anything that could make him come back.

Ron broke away from Dumbledore’s grasp, and collapsed next to Hermione. Huge tears ran down his face as he took the hands of his two friends.

“Can’t you do something?”, Ron shouted at Dumbledore, knowing all too well the answer. Hadn’t he shouted that same request a half dozen times in the past 2 years? Percy, Neville, Parvati….not to mention a group of third year Ravenclaws who were killed at the end of last school year, during an end of term visit to Hogsmeade. When will this end? I know, not until you-know-who is defeted..but, now….

Dumbledore looked down sadly at the ground – the usual twinkle in his eye extinguished. He slowly exhaled and looked up, giant tears welling up behind his half-moon spectacles.

“Harry showed bravery beyond any I have ever seen….a great man. We shall all remember him….there’s nothing else we can do for him here. Best to get him back to Hogwarts…people to notify….yes, the school body…relatives…”, said Dumbledore, as he slowly stood up and magicked Harry’s body onto a stretcher.

“No, this can’t be. I won’t accept this!”, Hermione screamed, as Ron tried to help her up. “We can find who did this and make them take it back! We can….” But she knew it was pointless. She hadn’t gotten a good look at the murderer, and, even worse, she knew there was no countercurse to his spell. “There has to be something…”, she muttered, as Ron held her close. “My Harry….he can’t die…”

“Herm…I’m…sorry..”, Ron began, but tears threatened to overtake him again. He pulled Hermione to him, allowing their tears and cries to mingle freely with the other’s. “It’s not fair. First, Percy..now Harry…oh god!”

Padma walked over and placed her hand uncertainly on both of their shoulders. She, too, began to cry – cry for the boy whom had defeated death 6 times – whom she secretly always admired and looked up to. As if drawn by some unknown force, other students and adults made their way over to where Ron, Hermione, and Padma stood, and placed their arms around them…Seamus, Justin, Katie, Sarah, Dennis and Colin Creevy, Hanah Abbott, Cho Chang, Professor McGonagall, Hagrid (who was howling), and dozens of Hogsmeade customers, all in their own silent homage to the Boy Who Had Lived.

Dumbledore led a silent procession back to Hogwarts, where Madam Pomfrey was waiting, eyes puffy, to examine the body. Those students who hadn’t been at Hogsmeade ran out of the castle, trying to find out what had happened, their questions being stopped by Dumbledore, who simply said, “Please go to your Houses…you will find out soon enough”. A few Slytherins, Draco included, quickly ran to their common room with the news….and in traditional Hogwarts fashion, everyone knew something within a matter of minutes.

 

“No, I’m sorry, but you and Weasley will have to wait outside,” said Madame Pomfrey, holding back Ron and Hermione at the door to the infirmary. “I’ll let you know when you may enter.” She quickly closed the door, leaving Ron and Hermione in the hallway, each lost in their own thoughts. This could have been the happiest day of my life, thought Hermione, as she paced the floor, why did this have to happen to you, Harry? She turned to see Ron, who was absent-mindedly twirling his wand behind his back, sending a shower of scarlet sparks from the tip of it, lost somewhere between the first time he saw Harry on the train their first year, and how he had accidentally turned Harry’s hair green just last week in transfigurations – he never did get his stick to turn into a flower.

It was a long ten minutes later when Madame Pomfrey opened the door. “You may go in for a few minutes. Dumbledore and I will need to send an owl to his family…,”she stammered, hurrying down the hall before she broke down and cried.

Ron, holding Hermione’s hand, led them both to a bed in the back. How many times have we been in here to see him? It seemed he was always doing something to himself – growing back limbs, falling off broomsticks, fighting of you-know-who… Hermione broke down as they stared at the bed. There lay Harry – pale and cold to the touch. She lightly touched his scar, and then bent down to kiss him softly on the lips.

“It wasn’t supposed to be this way – he had asked me to marry him. I didn’t get a chance to tell him yes. Oh, Ron!”, Hermione looked at him, and realized in that moment how much he was suffering too.

“My best friend…always there for me, even when I acted like a git. I can’t believe he’s gone…it’s not right. Doesn’t feel right.” And Ron, too, broke down – a surge of mourning swept through him and he turned away.

They stood there for a few more silent minutes before Madame Pomfrey opened the door, and walked in, holding a sheet. “Granger, Weasley. Dumbledore is asking for all the students to gather in the Great Hall. It’s time to go. And I believe the Headmaster would like to speak with you two, as well.”

With one last sad goodbye, Hermione and Ron turned to go. Madame Pomfrey draped the sheet ever so gently over Harry’s body. A chill like Hermione had never felt before went up her spine as she walked past Harry’s bed. She grabbed her arms, shivering. “It’s so cold in here”, she said, as Ron reached the door.

“I think you’re just in shock, Herm…it’s sweltering in here!”

“No, there was a cold spot there, where I was standing,” Hermione began to protest, but Madame Pomfrey gently steered her out the door, whispering, “hurry along now.”

And they left.

 

All he could do was stare in disbelief as an emotion saw raw and strong hit him. How can I be….

“Dead? Oh, no, Potter, that would be too easy for you, wouldn’t it?”, came a slow cold voice out of the darkness, “And miss the fun that I have been tortured with for 15 years? I think not….”

Harry turned to face the voice – but he didn’t see anyone.

“Who are you? Where am I? What did you do to me?,” he cried out angrily, reaching for his wand. But it was gone.

“I am your past, your present, your future,” and a gold stream formed the words, Tom Riddle in the black night. “Welcome to what most might call “limbo”. Not dead, not alive…just here…painful, isn’t it? To see your loved ones mourning for you, longing to reach out to them? But you can’t.” A nasty grin crept upon his face, as he stepped out of the shadows. Harry squinted to see him – he looked the same as he had in the Chamber of Secrets. You and I are a lot of like, Potter. Harry looked around the infirmary, desperately trying to pinch himself hard enough to wake up from this nightmare.

“This is where you sent me so many years ago when you saved that Weasley girl from destroying all the Mudbloods. I have powers you can’t even begin to understand, Potter. Lying here, waiting for you – waiting for the orders from my present self. I believe you’ve met him recently? Handsome bloke, Lord Voldemort.”, and he laughed – a cold, menacing laugh.

Harry tried once again to find his wand, hoping against hope that he hadn’t dropped it.

“You have no want, Potter. No power. It’s a shame, really, not being able to kill you here. Of course, my instructions are to keep you here. It’s up to others to kill you there.” And he pointed to where Harry’s body had been covered. “I’ve waited a long time for this – too long. Memories, Harry, are a strange thing…watch out for them.” Tom turned to leave, but stopped abruptly. “Oh, you might want to hurry – wouldn’t want to miss Dumbledore’s speech. Evicto!” And with a bright yellow flash, he was gone.

Harry was left standing in the room. This can’t be happening, he thought. He looked down at his hands, but they were glowing a strange pearl color. He gritted his teeth, determined to find a way to break the curse.

 

The Great Hall was filled with a heavy silence as Dumbledore faced the students. The ceiling, which was bewitched to mimic the sky outside, was a nasty starless grey – storms were approaching. Long winding bolts of lightning could be seen striking every few minutes, and the thunder was deafening.

“It is with a heavy heart that I bring you news of this caliber. A student was killed today by what is believed to be one of Voldemort’s Death Eaters, outside of Hogsmeade..”

There were murmurs across the Hall; obviously, not everyone had heard the rumors. Hermione looked around, and noticed Draco and his sidekicks at the Slytherin table, trying hard not to smirk. She wanted to run over to him, and smack him. Instead, she focused on the Professors table – Hagrid sat on the far right end, hiding his faced in the tablecloth; McGonagall was trying her best to keep a straight face, but Hermione could see big red blotches under her eyes. She dared a peek at Snape, and was surprised to see him somber. Dumbledore took a deep breath and continued.

“I would like everyone to stand in honor of Harry Potter.”

As screams and gasps filled the room, her and Ron slowly got to their feet, tears spilling down their cheeks. Ginny sobbed uncontrollably as she tried to stand. Padma grabbed Ron’s hand; students around the hall were pushing their chairs back as they, too, paid their respect; Hagrid was howling, and even Snape looked as if he would shed a tear. Only the Slytherin table stayed silent, Draco grinning as he looked around.

Harry stared around the Hall, moved by the displays of affection. He wanted more than anything to run to the front and tell everyone that he was okay. But he knew it was pointless – noone could see or her him. He glanced at Draco, now trying hard to hold back laughter along with his fellow Slytherins. I’d love to go over there and kick him! he thought angrily.

He walked over to where Hermione was standing, longing to put his arms around her; wanting to make her laugh by pointing out how red Ron’s nose was. His heart ached bitterly over her sorrow. How long have I loved her? Not long enough! He sighed. Poor Ron. My best friend…my brother. They don’t deserve this! Hermione shivered under her cloak, and he felt his heart skip a beat as she turned and looked at him – or through him.

“Harry?” She whimpered, pulling her cloak up farther on her neck.

“I’m here! Look, I’m okay!” But she continued to look straight ahead, holding her hand to her mouth as she cried silently.

“Tsk, tsk, poor Potter’s got a broken heart!”

Harry spun around, to see Tom leaning against a pillar.

“How does it feel?,” he went on, “Never stopped to consider me, did you, Harry?”

“You never cared about anyone but yourself!” Harry snapped back. “You’re not capable of loving!”

“Oh, come now, Harry. Do you think I was always this powerful? I was weak once – like you. I knew what it was like to be missing something in my life. Like a family? Much like you do, I’m sure. Remember what I said about memories? Strange, they are….” And with a cold wave, Harry felt himself falling into a deep abyss…