Harry Potter and the War of Souls

Chapter 27

Parting the Veil

"Aren't you tired of waking up in here?" It was Ginny's first words to him after he opened his eyes in the hospital wing.

He smiled. There was a tingling in his scar, but the pain was gone. "Are you kidding? Look at all the sympathy I get when I land myself here."

"Why should you get any sympathy? I had to stay here while you were all in the middle of the action. If anyone deserves sympathy, it's me." Her face grew serious. "Thank you so much for what you did. While you were sleeping, I was sitting here thinking about how this war goes on every day, and every day friends of mine get owls about someone they know who died. Our family has been lucky - too lucky."

Harry reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. "There's no luck. Your family is taking precautions and doing what they need to do to keep everyone safe. That's why they're surviving."

She nodded. After a minute, she said, "You should know they found Snape's body."

"Where?"

"Dumped in the outskirts of Hogsmeade, with a tattoo of "traitor" on his forehead. They don't know if he was killed or if he died first on his own."

"What's going to happen to his body?"

"They buried him already. Their side obviously didn't want him, and because of what happened to Dumbledore, our side could hardly make a big ceremony of his death."

"He told me he gave up everything to this cause," Harry said. "I reckon he was right. He was a foul git, but he was our foul git."

Madam Pomfrey poked her head around the curtain. "Mr. Potter, you have a visitor." Her eyes passed from him to Ginny. "Would you like your privacy?"

Ginny began to stand but Harry said, "No, she can stay." He wondered if he'd made the right decision though, when Percy walked around the corner.

Percy stopped and stared at the two of them. "Yeah, I heard about you two."

"We're just friends," Ginny said. "To keep up on things you have to check in with the family once in a while. Sorry, Harry I have to go. We Weasleys have a foul git of our own."

She pushed past him and walked out. Percy looked past her then took the seat beside Harry where Ginny had been. "Even if I wanted to reconcile with them, they'd never let me," he said. "The way they treat me, you'd think I've got the dark mark."

"The world isn't divided between death eaters and good guys," Harry said. "But when it comes down to it, you're either helping the cause or hurting it."

"I'm helping the cause as much as any of them," Percy insisted. "Sure, I'm not out doing the battles but I'm not made for that, I wouldn't be good at that. And if they disagree with the way I try to help, I can't help it."

"Forget the battles," Harry said. "You chose the Ministry over your own parents."

Percy paused. "The story is a whole lot more complicated than that, Harry. But that's not why I'm here. The Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, has summoned you to speak with him."

"Tell him I'm not interested."

"He's not asking. You are to go willingly, or he will send Aurors for you." Percy shook his head and stood. "Don't force him into that, Harry, it's not worth it. Besides, McGonagall has already given her permission."

"Yeah, or they'd send Aurors for her?"

"You need to be at the Ministry in three days, promptly at noon. Good-bye."

"Ginny said you were here." Ron walked around the corner. "What do you want, Percy?"

"Business between Harry and myself."

"And in all that business, did you bother to thank him for saving Fred and George yesterday?"

Percy faltered. "Er, no I meant to -"

"Wow, that was touching. Get out of here, Percy."

Percy began to leave, then stopped. "I love the family same as you do, Ron. Someday I'll have a way to thank him myself. Until then, you can continue hating me. Harry, I'll see you in three days."

After he left, Ron slumped in the chair beside Harry's bed. "What's happening in three days?"

"I'm supposed to go talk to Scrimgeour."

Ron straightened up. "Harry, that's perfect! You'll get in to the Ministry. Bring your cloak and you can get down to the Department of Mysteries, no problem."

Harry smiled and sat up on his elbows. "Why didn't I think of that? You know, Ron, I think Hermione's starting to rub off on you."

The next three days seemed to pass so slowly Harry sometimes wondered if time itself had stopped. On the morning he was to leave, he left Hogwarts early and had apparated to the Ministry with nearly an hour to spare.

Mr. Weasley met him at the entrance. "I suppose after nearly missing your own trial here, you've learned to come early," he said.

"Yeah." They hadn't told anyone his real reasons for wanting to be at the Ministry today. He figured if he was caught and got into trouble, he wanted Mr. Weasley to be able to honestly deny knowing anything that Harry had done.

They walked to the telephone booth and Mr. Weasley dialed the phone. "Harry Potter to see Minister Scrimgeour," he said when the voice asked their business for the day.

A silver badge with Harry's name on it popped from the phone and the booth began to lower into the ground. "You're welcome to spend some time in my office before your meeting," Mr. Weasley said.

"Thanks, but I hope the Minister will see me early and get it over with. Can you just take me to his office?"

"Sure. That's on the first level."

Since they were alone in the elevator, Mr. Weasley turned immediately to Harry and said, in a strangely quiet voice, "Harry, how are you doing lately?"

Harry shrugged it off. "Fine."

He felt a hand on his shoulder. "No, how are you really? There's been a lot happening this year."

Harry pressed his lips together. "I think I'm getting used to the fact that Hogwarts isn't what it used to be for me."

"You mean, it's not safe for you anymore." The elevator doors began to open, signaling they were at the first level, but Mr. Weasley turned with his wand and did something that closed the doors again, although the elevator did not move. "I'm not finished, son."

Harry met Mr. Weasley's eyes. He had so rarely been called by such an intimate term, it was unsettling and warm at the same time.

"Ginny and Ron, and sometimes even Bill all send us owls. They're all concerned you might be taking more on yourself than you can handle."

Harry wanted to answer that he'd have preferred not taking any of this on. This wasn't the game he wanted to be playing, but there was no choice. Voldemort started this and was going to continue it until one way or another, Harry finished it.

Either must die at the hand of the other.

"You look tired," Mr. Weasley continued. "I would guess you're not sleeping much."

Harry smiled wanly. "I've slept better."

"Listen, Molly and I are worried about you. I know you're of age, and I know all you've been through, but you're still so young. Why don't you come back to where we're staying? You can take some dreamless sleep potions and get some rest."

Harry nodded. "I'd like that."

A long silence followed, almost as if Mr. Weasley was struggling with whether or not to say anything more. Harry began to feel uncomfortable in the silence. Maybe Mr. Weasley was waiting for him to say something. Finally, he shifted weight on his feet and said, "I'd better get to that meeting."

"Of course." Mr. Weasley aimed his wand at the elevator doors, which opened to the sound of soft music coming from somewhere in level one. As Harry began to step out, he heard Mr. Weasley behind him say, "Whatever happens, just know that we're proud of you."

Harry turned back and smiled grimly. "Yeah. Thanks."

On the first level, he looked at what he thought must be sixteen foot high ceilings. Everything appeared encased in marble and the light in the room seemed to come from behind the marble itself. Harry expected as soon as he stepped in the room to hear his footsteps echo around the room, but they did not. He wondered if Mr. Weasley would leave him there, but Mr. Weasley quickly caught up to walk beside him and point the way down the long marble hallway to the Minister's office.

The hall was mostly empty, except for a few people who were standing together speaking or who were walking alone somewhere. They went around a corner and Harry nearly bumped into a man he recognized from his last trip to the Ministry.

"Sorry," Harry began but he quickly had a hand in front of him.

"Mr. Potter, my name's Jed Williamson." Harry shook hands with the Auror in the scarlet robes and with the ponytailed hair. "I helped clean up some of your work earlier this week. Have you ever considered a career as an Auror?"

"Maybe," Harry answered.

"We're all pulling for you here," he said. "We've taken a lot of losses this year. We need new talent."

Mr. Weasley nodded at Williamson then led Harry past him and to the Minister's office. The doors were gilded in what Harry decided must be pure gold and his first thought was "overkill." But then, he'd never been the leader of an entire race of wizards. Maybe this was what they expected. A receptionist with very short black hair glanced up at Harry and her eyes went directly to his scar. "He's early," she said to Mr. Weasley.

"I was hoping he could see me now," Harry said.

"Have a seat." She did something behind her desk that Harry couldn't see and moments later, Scrimgeour's door opened and he poked his head out. "Harry, my boy! You're early, I like that. Come in."

"Come see me before you leave," Mr. Weasley said, then whispered, "Be careful."

Harry walked inside the office which immediately reminded him of how Moody had kept his office at Hogwarts, only with a much more refined touch. But he recognized many of the dark-detecting trinkets. They might be popular with all Aurors, he thought.

"Have a seat, Harry," Scrimgeour offered and sat behind his desk. "That was quite a battle you got into on Diagon Alley."

"Led by a death eater who was high up in your Ministry."

"But she never fooled you, eh? Anyway, it was good for people to see us fight back in such a successful and public way. Very good for morale."

"I didn't do it for morale."

"Yes, yes. I'm aware of that. But our people can still feel encouraged by it, can't they?"

Harry pressed his eyebrows together. "Why did you want to see me, Minister?"

Scrimgeour frowned at him. "All business today then? Alright, what is it you have that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named wants?"

"Voldemort. His name is Voldemort! If we can't name him, we can't fight him."

"Have it your way. What is it you have that Voldemort wants?"

"I don't know."

"Come now, Harry. Don't lie to me."

"Then I refuse to answer."

Scrimgeour shook his head. "Do you read The Daily Prophet? He made a promise to kill everyday and I assure you, He is making good on that promise." He motioned toward a tall stack of letters in the corner of his office which almost reached the ceiling and were so unevenly stacked, they had to be balanced by magic. "Owls from families wondering why we're not doing more, why we're not stopping Him. Why we haven't forced you to turn over whatever it is you have."

"Even if I did, this war wouldn't end."

"But at least we could show that we are doing something! People are dying, Harry. People who are looking for you to do something, whether you want to or not."

"Giving in to Voldemort will only make things worse. It will change me, it will change everything!" Harry said loudly. Then, almost as if he had heard himself, he began mumbling, "But maybe that's the right thing to do. Maybe I should do what He wants. Maybe that's the way for me to defeat Him."

"I want to win this war as much as you do," Scrimgeour said. "I only ask you to consider the best interest of our people." He moved some parchment on his desk. "Harry, I want you to make a statement to The Daily Prophet. I want you to assure them all is well."

"I can't do that."

"Why in Merlin's name not?"

"All isn't well. You're not going to use me to make people believe otherwise."

"I could arrest you, you know. I could hold you until you agree to turn over what He wants."

"Under what charge?"

"Wizard Endangerment."

Harry stood. "This meeting is over."

Scrimgeour stood as well and pulled out a wand. Harry turned and had his out almost equally fast. "A duel wouldn't be good for either of us. No matter which of us wins, you'll come out the loser. Good day, Minister." Harry backed up until he was out of the room. Once out, he pocketed his wand and hurried toward the elevators. He knew Mr. Weasley would want him to check in, but he couldn't do that. He waited by the elevators until one opened with nobody else inside, then got in, pushed the floor to Level 9 Department of Mysteries, and pulled his invisibility cloak around himself.

Two wizards got in at the next level and Harry stepped back into the corner. He felt a tug on his cloak and realized one of the wizards had stepped on his cloak. If he moved back any further, his cloak could pull off, at least partially revealing him.

"...found ten muggles on the train in London," one of them was saying. "The muggle press can't sort out what happened. They're checking for gas leaks in the tunnels."

"Not fair," the other mumbled. "This isn't their conflict."

The elevator stopped again and the wizards stepped back to allow in a large witch who seemed to be accustomed to taking up plenty of space. Harry felt the pull on his cloak. He held to it with his hand but another step and it would tug free.

"Did you hear about the embarrassment with Dolores?" the witch said. "She's tried to claim she was there innocently. Told the Wizengamot she went in to buy some Canary Creams for her nieces and nephews. Only problem was, she doesn't have any nieces or nephews."

The elevator stopped again and all three wizards got out. Harry adjusted his cloak and waited for others to get on, but none did. When the doors opened again, a voice announced, "Level 9, Department of Mysteries."

He walked down the corridor to the black door. He reminded himself that there were wizards working here today and he needed to be careful. He went through the door and saw a wizard turn and look suspiciously at where he was standing. Then the wizard muttered, "Blasted draft," and got up and closed the door. The room began to spin and after watching it for a while, the wizard lazily mumbled, "Exhibo Brain Room." The room continued spinning but a door lit up and the wizard easily opened it and walked through.

Was it really as easy as that? Now alone, Harry stood in the room and said, "Exhibo Locked Room," and smiled as another door lit up. He tossed off his cloak and held it over his arm while he reached with the other to get his key from his pocket. He pushed the key into the doorknob and heard a click on the other end. He was in.

Harry had spent months picturing what it must look like behind the Locked Room. Would it be glamorous and ornamental or simple and unadorned?

"Lumos," he whispered, and not only did his wand light up, so did the entire room. He looked around but couldn't see any source for the light, which bathed the room in a warmth he could feel inside himself.

The walls were about the color of pumpkins and while the furniture was sparse, it was comfortable and inviting. He walked to a desk in the center of the room over which hung a particularly bright light.

Rolls of parchment were on the desk with a quill laying over them. A drink mug sat in the corner, although whatever had been in it was long dried up. On the opposite corner of the desk was a picture he recognized instantly. It was his parents holding him between them. They were waving at the camera and cuddling him close to them. This must have been his mother's desk, and seemed to be the only work space in the room.

Moreover, it didn't look as if anyone had been in this room since his mother last walked in here. Things were set in here as if she expected to come in again the next day. Besides the mug and quill, there was a lap quilt slung over an easy chair and a bowl of very stale nuts was on a small table sitting nearby. It was haunting, really, walking where no one had walked since her.

He picked up the quill and looked over her recent notes on the parchment. There was an entry date, and a recording of her latest findings. The last entry was on October 23. It read, "Everything is ready, but there is no way to know if I have been successful until the potion is tested. Tonight, I will give Harry every protection I can offer him, but James cannot seal the spell until just before it is needed. I hope to return very soon and write that it was not needed, but in case I fail, my notes for the potion are included in these parchment rolls."

Harry sat in the chair. She was ready to die, and as he read the entry again, he wondered if she almost expected it was going to happen.

He unrolled the parchment a bit more and saw an entry that caught his eye. "If it works, The Greatest Love, (my code for the Caritara Potion) will be the only known protection against the Killing Curse. It comes at a high price, one James and I are both willing to pay if necessary. And if Harry ever learns to understand the full circle of its power, our sacrifice won't be in vain."

Harry sat back. What did she mean by "the full circle of its power?"

He wasn't sure how long he remained in the Locked Room, but before he finally left, he had the rolls of his mother's parchment and the picture of him with his parents.

He returned to the circular room, barely missing the attention of another wizard who was entering another door. He was about to leave when he had a thought, an idea he knew he should not entertain. But he may never have another chance.

"Exhibo Death Chamber." A door lit and he walked through.

Harry wasn't prepared for the emotions that would flood him in this room. There, where Voldemort had tried to possess him. And over there, where Dumbledore had given Voldemort such a fierce and unparalleled duel. Harry's eyes focused on the crumbling archway on the dais. There, where Sirius had fallen.

He walked down to the archway. He stared at it for a moment, asking himself what he had intended by coming in here. Gradually, as he became accustomed to the silence of the room, he began to hear the voices coming from the archway.

He couldn't make out any discernible words. It was like listening to a large crowd of people through the other end of a long tunnel. A crowd of dead people, he supposed.

Or was he still alive?

Harry stood and faced the archway. The tattered black curtain blew as if a slight wind was circulating through the chamber. In a strong voice, Harry said loudly, "Sirius?"

Except for the constant murmuring of distant voices, there was silence.

"Sirius? It's me."

Again, it was silence. Feeling slightly ridiculous and glad nobody had been watching him try to speak to the dead, Harry picked up his bag and began walking back up the steps. Then he heard a voice, quiet, but distinct.

"Harry?"

Harry dropped his bag and ran back to the veil. "Sirius?"

"How long has it been? There's no time here."

"Almost two years. Sirius, how can I get you out?"

There was a pause, then Sirius spoke more gently. "Harry, you have to let me go."

"I can't. Sirius, I tried but I need you! I can find you a way out of that arch!"

"Until you let me go, I am trapped here forever. Let me go. Let me die."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed together. "Are all the dead in there?"

"No. We who wait here are not quite dead and never again to be alive. Harry, let me go."

Harry felt tears burning in his eyes, and hoping Sirius couldn't see him, he pushed them back. "Will I ever see you again?"
"Cling to life, Harry. There will be time for the dead afterwards."

Harry paused. "I don't expect to live much longer, Sirius. I think the only way I can kill Voldemort is if I die too."

"Then make it a death worthy of the life your parents gave you. Do not be afraid of death, Harry. There are things much worse."

Harry pressed his lips together. "Is this worse, Sirius, behind the veil?"

For the third time, Sirius repeated, "Harry, let me go."

"Okay," Harry said. "Sirius, it's okay for you to die. I'll be alright."

He heard a long sigh of relief that quickly faded to nothing. Harry knew without asking what had happened. Sirius at last had found rest.

"What are you doing in here?" a voice asked.

Harry turned sharply and stood, quickly grabbing his bag. It was dark, but he'd recognized that voice anywhere. "Percy?"

"You have no authorization to be here! No right!"
"How did you find me?"

"We've searched the entire building. Do you know what will happen if they catch you in here? This is a highly restricted area! They'll arrest you."

Harry began to hurry up the stairs. "Can you get me out of here?"

"If we're lucky."

"I have my invisibility cloak."

"Get it out."

Harry bent down to pull his cloak out, but soon there were wand lights pointing at him from several directions.

"Mr. Potter," Scrimgeour said. "Weasley?"

Harry looked over at Percy, who had paled to almost to an Inferi-like color. "I was just leaving," he said.

"Just leaving? You have no right to be here in the first place! I can bring you up on charges for this."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know," Harry said.

Scrimgeour looked at the invisibility cloak in Harry's hands. "Then what was the need for that? Hand it over."

Percy stepped forward. "He didn't use that to get in here. I led him here."

Scrimgeour's face went a deep red. "Explain yourself, Weasley."

"Harry asked me to come, to see again where the battle from two years ago had taken place. He didn't know it was restricted, and I didn't tell him. I just thought he ought to be able to see it."

Scrimgeour turned to Harry. "Is this true?"

"It's my fault," Percy said. "Blame me, but Harry's done nothing wrong."

Scrimgeour paused. He motioned to some of the other wizards who had entered the room with them and they stepped back to talk amongst themselves.

"You didn't have to do that," Harry whispered to Percy.

"I saw the parchment rolls in your bag when you pulled your cloak out and judging by the dust on them, you got them somewhere in here. If Scrimgeour takes you, he'll find those."

"Thanks, really."
"You better make this worth it."

Scrimgeour turned back to Harry and Percy. "Harry, these wizards will escort you out of the building. Until you're ready to cooperate with us on the matter we discussed before, I don't want to see you back in this building. Percy, gather up your things. I don't want to see you back here either."

Harry turned as he was led away. For once, Percy didn't look haughty or superior. He looked like someone who knew that whatever the price, he'd just done the right thing.