Betaed by rambkowalczyk. This story is quickly coming to an end, there'll only be a few more chapters.
Chapter 29 – Getting There
Sirius waited patiently for Harry to wake up. He looked like he needed sleep and Sirius didn't look forward to letting him go. After a while, sitting on the doorstep of the place where James had married Lily got uncomfortable, especially with Harry's head in his lap. He concentrated on a different environment and they ended up on a couch in the Gryffindor common room as Sirius remembered it from years ago. It was decorated for Halloween and outside the windows it was night and raining. The fire in the fireplace had almost died down and it was much quieter than Sirius had remembered.
His uncle Alphard had followed them effortlessly and now looked around curiously. Finally he settled down on an armchair, looking very much at ease.
Harry seemed dead to the world and Sirius dared to talk in a low voice.
"You've been around here for a while?"
"Long enough to know that 'here' isn't exactly the right word. But yes, I've been dead for a while as you should recall and I've been in this state of mind ever since," Alphard replied in an equally low tone.
"So everyone comes here?" Sirius asked, ignoring his uncle's nitpicking.
Alphard looked slightly exasperated. "Yes, everyone. Death is quite unavoidable."
"So why aren't they here?" Sirius gestured at the gloomy room with the hand Harry wasn't lying on.
"Not everyone stays here. In fact this is only the first step of the journey that is death. We are the people who are still clinging to their lives with all their might. Some of us become ghosts, but most of the dead are in this confused state of mind before they manage to let go and go on."
Sirius considered asking how Alphard had come by this information, but he had more pressing thoughts. Should he try to go on – whatever that meant – and go after James who was probably not here anymore? Or should he stay and try to remain sane in a place that took every opportunity to mess with his imagination? How long would he have to wait for Harry or for Moony to come? He could wait for Peter, who hopefully would die soon, and he could make death hell for the little piece of scum… actually, that sounded very appealing. He grinned.
"Your godson really is quite extraordinary," Alphard commented quietly. "It was a foolish thing to try and do, but he managed to save your soul."
Sirius looked down at the sleeping boy. Even with his eyes closed and his scar obscured by hair, Harry didn't really look like his father. His face was soft in all the places where James' had been tough and hard in all the places where he had been soft. "He's really something."
"I believe he has a very good chance at winning this fight," Alphard said with a smile.
Sirius felt absurdly grateful for this expression of confidence, even though he had no reason to believe in this man he barely knew.
**
Dumbledore gave Tom one of the unused teacher's rooms to have some rest and time to himself. The rooms had windows looking out over the lake and they usually belonged to the Defence against the Dark Arts teacher.
Harry wanted to become an Auror (even though, in Tom's opinion, Harry had only a very vague idea what the job was like) but Tom thought that being a teacher would be a much more appealing occupation. He liked Hogwarts and felt more at home here than anywhere else. But whether he defeated Voldemort or not, becoming a teacher here or anywhere would be out of question.
After he nearly fell asleep in the shower, he crawled into the huge bed and slept deeply and dreamlessly for sixteen hours. It was half past ten in the morning on the second day since Harry had left his body.
Somebody – no doubt a house elf – had brought a tray with tea and breakfast to the room and there was a note from Dumbledore telling Tom that he would not be back before noon. Tom stared at it for some time. Dumbledore didn't say where he had gone and probably he would be able to get back in an instant, but it still seemed like a very trusting gesture.
He found some of Harry's clothes, neatly folded on a chair and took another shower before dressing.
Harry never spent a lot of time looking at the mirror and Tom didn't intend to, either, but then he nearly forgot to brush his teeth while staring at his reflection.
It was perhaps the strangest sensation yet, to look at this face and think 'I am not this person.' At first it was creepy and confusing, but the longer he stared at the green eyes and the glasses and the wet hair clinging to his forehead, at the lightning bolt scar and the slight tan on Harry's nose and cheeks, the more he calmed down, until he felt almost serenely happy and balanced. His reflection smiled, shyly at first, then widely, his chin still smudged with white toothpaste, and he could easily pretend that this was Harry looking at him and not he in Harry's body.
"And it will be Harry again," he said to himself as he tore his eyes away from the mirror.
Tom ate while looking out of the windows at the grounds. But his mind was already occupied with his plan. He would have to confront Voldemort at Azkaban, amidst his loyal followers. He had been to the prison once, in the years when he shared his body with the copy and remembered the place vividly. It was accessible only by boat or broom, a magical fortress built on a rock in the North Sea.
As the clock struck half past twelve, Tom left his room and walked to the headmaster's office. He wondered what he would do if he met someone now. He would have liked to say something profound to Ron and Hermione but he couldn't imagine how to explain the fact that he wasn't Harry but he still had been Harry all this time and that it felt like they were his friends, too. He wanted to say thank you, and good-bye and other things, but it would just be very awkward.
He didn't want to think about never seeing them again, either.
The password at the stone gargoyle had been changed and Tom was stuck there for a while trying out every sweet he could think of but nothing worked until he started with those he remembered from his own school-years, old-fashioned things you didn't get anymore these days. It wasn't something he remembered very well, food had never interested him, but the statue finally gave in when he said "Honey Snakes, or I'll show you that it is possible to get past you without the password!"
"Good Morning." Dumbledore sounded a lot graver than Tom expected. He looked very busy and was just attaching a letter to an owl, before it flew out the window. "There were some matters I had to attend to, your Alter Ego has been busy last night and neither the Ministry nor the Order seems able to function without me these days."
Images of the Weasleys, of Remus, Tonks and the other Order members, of everyone he knew flashed in front of his eyes, murdered, like the images the boggart had shown Mrs Weasley.
"What did he do?" he asked tightly. Dumbledore looked over his glasses at him.
"There was a Death Eater raid near Birmingham, seventeen Muggles died. The Ministry is still obliviating people and trying to mask the incident as a Muggle-caused explosion."
Tom let go the breath he had been holding and took a seat. Just some Muggles, he thought gratefully.
"We managed to arrest two Death Eaters, new recruits from Russia and Romania who may have been involved in the attack that caused Durmstrang to be closed last week." Dumbledore sounded resigned, assessing the wins and losses like an old soldier.
"The sooner we enact our plan, the sooner this will stop," Tom said. Dumbledore hadn't yet given his consent, but Voldemort's actions would hopefully make him realise that it was necessary. Voldemort's plan would be to continue these attacks until Harry gave up and came out of hiding. He would start with random Muggles, and then he would move on to Muggleborns and those who were in alliance with Harry or Dumbledore and finally he would find those who were closest to Harry, one by one…
"So you haven't changed your mind," said Dumbledore.
"No."
There was a short silence, but Dumbledore had made up his mind as well. He nodded.
"Good," Tom said. If Dumbledore had said no, there would have been a confrontation and that could have been very ugly. "I take it you still have spies among the Death Eaters?"
Dumbledore gave him all the intelligence he had concerning Azkaban and the number of Death Eaters there, but except for Snape, he gave no names for his sources.
They had to expect at least forty wizards and witches, as well as over a hundred Dementors and possibly other dark creatures at Voldemort's command.
"So there are two problems," Tom concluded. "How do I get to Lord Voldemort and how do we get Harry's body out of the castle once I have vacated the body. Apparition and the use of port-keys are out of the question. Your brother has a very interesting method of travelling, though."
"Voldemort has witnessed Aberforth's door magic in Privet Drive," Dumbledore objected with a shake of his head. "He will most likely have warded Azkaban against it."
Tom frowned, tapping his fingers on the surface of the table. All methods of instantaneous travel were rendered impossible. That left only the traditional ways of reaching Azkaban: by the sea or through the air. But in both cases it was impossible to surprise Voldemort, who would sense him approaching long before he reached the castle.
Dumbledore leaned back in his chair. "The simplest way to enter a well-guarded fortress," he said with a quiet smile, "is to make its master ask you in. Lord Voldemort wants Harry to come to him so he can kill him. Every Death Eater has orders to capture Harry and deliver him to Voldemort."
"Are you suggesting that I let myself be captured?"
"Yes. But not just by any Death Eater. Someone on our side can deliver you directly to Voldemort. That way, Aberforth and I can accompany you and there will be three capable wizards with you to guard Harry's body and either perform the ritual right there or leave with the body."
**
Tom would have found the plan delightfully cunning if it hadn't involved Snape. Hating and distrusting Snape was even easier with the knowledge of his past. The man had not only failed Harry (at the very least Tom knew he could teach Occlumency better) but he had also betrayed Voldemort. What guarantee was there that he wouldn’t betray Dumbledore?
Dumbledore had no such concerns, or if he did, he hid them well.
They had had to wait for Snape until the evening when he returned from Azkaban and then Dumbledore had called him to his office and had listened patiently to the sparse news Snape could give him.
Dumbledore said nothing about Tom or the things that had happened in the Ministry. It was their plan to leave Snape in the dark about most of it, so Voldemort couldn't pick the truth from his thoughts until it was too late.
Several times Snape tried to object. He shot both of them irritated glances and Tom could barely withstand the temptation to reveal his true identity and repay the man for the five years of spite and ridicule Harry had had to endure under him. But Dumbledore stayed kind and patient and completely unreadable.
"I understand that you have many questions, Severus, but I must ask you not to doubt me in the this case. You have to deliver Harry to Voldemort and grant access to Aberforth and me to Azkaban. If you find yourself unwilling or unable to do so without any further questions, you may leave now."
Snape looked outraged. His beady eyes darted from the headmaster to Tom and bore into his. Indignantly, Tom realised that Snape was trying to gain the information that Dumbledore didn't want to give him from Harry. He closed his mind off completely, startling the spy and looked at Dumbledore.
"He won't do it," he said coldly. "We'll have to find another way." Dumbledore must have realised that Snape was using Legilimency on Tom, but Dumbledore didn't say anything. He merely glanced at Snape, waiting for him to answer or leave.
Tom was sure that Snape would leave. The man was a selfish git who hated Harry. He wouldn't risk his life and Voldemort's trust to do what Dumbledore asked of him.
Tom was wrong. Snape's voice was full of venom and his face a mask of fury, when he rose with a swish of his dark robes and said: "I'll do it."
Dumbledore smiled and rose as well. "We'll see you tomorrow, then, Severus."
Snape glared and left.
**
Harry woke with a small gasp and jolted into a sitting position next to Sirius on the sofa. In his dream, he had been in a completely dark place and something huge and hot had coiled around him like a snake trying to crush him with its body while he had grown smaller and thinner until he was barely there anymore.
He was in the Gryffindor common room and someone was squeezing his arm. It was Sirius.
"Oh," Harry said breathlessly. "I'm sorry."
"Bad dream?" Sirius asked.
Harry nodded. His mouth still tasted bitter from fear and sleep. The taste and the hammering of his heart, Sirius' touch and the smell of the room - it was hard to believe that these things weren't real.
"Did I sleep very long?"
"A few hours," Sirius replied.
"I'm sorry."
"You needn't be," Sirius said, grinning. "I always liked you best when you were sleeping." Harry didn't know what to say and after a beat, Sirius added: "When you were a baby, at least."
Then Sirius got up and stretched his arms and legs with a growling yawn. "Now that you're up, you should think about getting back where you belong."
"What about you?" Harry asked. He didn't want to leave yet. What would Sirius do when he was gone?
His godfather shrugged. "I've heard that this isn't the only place for dead people to be, that you can go on further and such. I guess I'll try that and see if I can find James and Lily. If it doesn't work, well, I'll be waiting for the rest of you."
"You could take care of your little brother," Alphard chimed in from the other end of the room. "I'm sure he'd appreciate that." Sirius glared at him.
Then he turned back to Harry. "I can take care of myself, alright? And I want you to take care of yourself."
Harry nodded. He got up and stood in front of Sirius a little awkwardly, but finally he did what he wanted to do and hugged his godfather. They both held each other tightly, with trembling hands, knowing that it was too little and too short for both of them. Then finally Sirius let go. His eyes were very bright when he looked down at Harry.
"Go," he said softly. "We'll see each other again."
Harry nodded. The room was silent for a second and Sirius and Alphard looked expectantly at Harry. Nothing happened. Finally Harry looked down at his feet and smiled nervously. "There's, um … a little problem? I don't know how to get back."
Sirius frowned. "They didn't tell you how to get back?" he asked angrily.
"I was only told not to forget that I am alive."
"Did they give you anything? A charm or a talisman or a word to say?" Alphard inquired.
Harry shook his head. "Perhaps it just happens when the seven days are over?"
"And if it doesn't?" Sirius asked tensely. "Come on, you have to try. Think of something, of getting back, of your body, of how it feels to be alive."
Harry tried, feeling stupid and awkward. He even closed his eyes to concentrate but the fact that they were both still staring at him made him fidgety. "It doesn't work," he said.
But neither Sirius nor Alphard gave up so quickly. They both started to give him tips, speculating how he could best do it and encouraging him not to give up. They made him think of his body, the Ministry, people who were alive, food, whatever came to their minds. Then Sirius got the idea to retrace Harry's journey through the world beyond the Veil. It didn't work, they got as far as the hall of Grimmauld Place but then Harry was unable to get from there back into the kitchen of Cedric's grandmother. It seemed like they were running out of ideas fast.