Chapter Twenty Nine: Live Your Life
As everyone present wept with grief for Harry, the song of the phoenix rose majestically around them. It filled the entire area and seemed to resonate with the Earth itself, and seemed to speak of comfort and hope.
Ginny cradled Harry’s lifeless body to her, unable to accept hope, unwilling to be comforted. Ron was staring in stunned disbelief and Hermione was sobbing into his shoulder. Remus was on his knees with his head clutched in his hands, while Tonks had a disbelieving arm around him. Even the Aurors, who were no more than acquaintances and training partners with Harry, were weeping. Still, the song was different from the way it had been after Dumbledore’s death. Ginny was sure she was mistaken at first, but she kept getting the impression that it was the phoenix that was saying goodbye, not a song of farewell to Harry.
Fawkes flew down and walked along the ground until he was standing near Harry’s head, and looked up into Ginny’s eyes. Though she had never conversed with him herself, Ginny knew that Fawkes was incredibly intelligent, and she suddenly got the very distinct impression that he wanted her to back away. Those intelligently bright eyes were welling with tears, and she well knew of their powers. What can phoenix tears do against death? she wondered, but found herself obeying anyway.
When she was a few feet away from Harry, the singing reached an incredible climax, soaring beautifully and gaining in volume while Fawkes’ tears were falling freely to the ground. Then the phoenix burst into flames. The flames were brighter than they had ever been, a bright yellow flame that burned hot enough that everyone present was putting up an arm to protect their faces from the heat. As the flames spread to encompass Harry, Ginny started forward, thinking that the phoenix was taking him away, but Ron caught her and held her back.
Fawkes was slowly being consumed by the flames, and the ground around them was turning black against the heat, the grass already burned away. And yet Harry himself did not burn. The ashes from the phoenix’s body were drifting down over Harry’s still form and there was a tiny flash of white light as each seemed to be absorbed by his flesh. And then Fawkes was gone, and the fire began to die. The song continued as well, seeming to come as if from everywhere and nowhere at once, both heard and remembered as if from a dream. There were no ashes from which the phoenix could be reborn, and Ginny knew that this goodbye would be for good.
And then as the last flicker of flame died and the last echo of song faded, Harry breathed again. His chest began to rise and fall rhythmically, and Ginny was at his side again in seconds, conjuring a blanket to cover him, since his clothes had fared no better than the grass. As she grabbed his hand she was relieved to feel warm flesh, and at his wrist a healthy heartbeat. She whispered a few words of gratitude to the departed phoenix as she once again felt Harry alive in her arms.
Ron and Hermione were laughing and crying at once, and Remus was howling into the air with joy. The Aurors burst into applause while Tonks Apparated away to share the good news.
Harry’s eyes flickered open, and centered on Ginny.
“Ginny?” he asked in wonder, “Am I dead?”
“No,” she said thickly, almost unable to speak for the tears that refused to stop falling. “You’re alive!”
Harry’s eyes were still old, but the pain was gone; they shifted to see Ron and Hermione standing over him as well, and his confusion deepened. “If I’m not dead, why are all of you here? I saw you die that day when we all fought Voldemort together.” His voice cracked when he spoke of them dying but he kept going. “Everybody died that day…”
The pain in his voice caused Ginny’s throat to tighten further, and she just shook her head. Ron answered him instead.
“Harry, that was only three days ago, and after your wand connected to Voldemort’s we won in no time.”
Harry shook his head in confusion, and looked around at them all, squinting.
“This can’t be heaven, or you wouldn’t all be so blurry. Maybe it’s a dream…” and the disappointment in his voice was deep.
“Blurry? Harry, you can see again!” Hermione exclaimed. “Fawkes must have done something to your eyes!”
Harry shook his head. “I’ve been able to see since… since Ginny died, and I haven’t seen Fawkes since then either.”
Carefully, Ron and Hermione began explaining everything that had happened, and everything they had found out about the Mind’ Eye.
“It wasn’t real?” Harry asked hopefully, “None of it was real?”
Hermione answered by summoning his glasses from where they had sat on his desk awaiting the potions for his eyes to work. She handed them to him and he put them on slowly, and blinked as the world came into focus again. He looked around him and saw everyone waiting and watching. Tonks had brought back the entire Order of the Phoenix, and the entire Weasley family was standing there, watching him with tears in their eyes. Harry saw Remus and Tonks, and McGonagall, and Hagrid and Grawp, and everyone else that he had been sure were dead.
Tears sprang to his eyes unbidden, though his gaze remained fixed and unblinking, as though he was afraid that if he closed his eyes it would all be gone. Finally he looked at Ginny, and a slow smile came to his face, though the tears remained.
“This had better not be a dream,” he said finally, his voice breaking. “This reality is a lot better than the last one.”
His statement made no sense to her, but the hug he gave her made perfect sense. She laughed as she cried, hugging him back.
Cheering erupted all around them as they all celebrated the victory of good over evil, and the survival of their friend. There were no dry eyes; even Fred and George brushed at their eyes suspiciously, though they denied it whenever anyone tried to mention it to them.
Harry closed his eyes finally, and gave a grateful sigh as he tightened his grip on Ginny. She’s still here, he thought. This is real!
***
Harry sat back in his chair, reveling in reality. His memories of his other life still haunted his dreams, and he was still amazed to see himself so young whenever he looked in the mirror. He had grown used to a tired-looking old man with gray hair and a lined face. Now he felt like he looked even younger than he was; everyone else said he looked a good five years older than he had, though Ginny insisted it was just a look in his eyes. Either way, he didn’t care. That other life hadn’t happened.
The last week had gone by in a blur; he had been asked to speak to reporters, and had done so grudgingly. Then he had been asked to speak at the memorial service for those who had died at the battle, and he had done that with trepidation. The thought of speaking in front of so many people still terrified him even now that it was over, but he had felt that he owed it to all of those who had given their lives in the fight against evil. Afterwards, Luna’s father had come up to him to shake his hand and thank him for his words. Harry treasured that memory; the guilt he had felt for her death had begun seeping away, then, and he had found peace.
He had spent a good deal of time mourning for Fawkes. The phoenix had given up immortality for him, and he was intensely grateful, but he almost felt like it wasn’t worth it. Perhaps if the phoenix had given him life before Voldemort was destroyed…
Ginny, Ron, and Hermione had taken up the majority of his time, though Fred and George were constantly trying to get him involved with some new project or prank. He was ideally placed, they argued, for a grand exhibition of a Weasley product in the middle of something like a press conference or Ministry meeting. Harry hadn’t decided whether or not to go along with them, but the ideas were certainly worth listening to. Mostly he just wanted to watch the people around him, mostly to remind himself that they were alive and real.
Still, even with all of his friends back and alive, and everything resolved he felt a tension growing within him. He didn’t want to tell any of his friends about it; he was afraid they wouldn’t understand, and he wasn’t sure he understood it himself. But the need to talk to someone finally drove him from his chair.
He found himself wandering through the halls around the headmaster’s office, and decided to go in. McGonagall had already moved her things out while everyone awaited the selection of the new headmaster, and everything left in the office belonged to him. Besides, none of the security in Hogwarts could stop him; he still had all the knowledge of the greatest wizard of the age.
As he entered the office, he stopped to look at his reflection in one of glass cabinets, and fingered the spot on his forehead where the scar used to be. It had taken a while for anyone to notice that it was gone; it was as if people just assumed it to be there. Harry had known the second he first looked into the mirror, and had waited to see when anyone would say anything. Ginny noticed first, and claimed that the only reason she didn’t notice faster was because she was too busy staring into his eyes. He was sure that was merely flattery to cover up for her not noticing. It was strange not to have the scar. He had been defined by it for so long that he almost felt like he had begun to define himself by it as well.
“Back again, Harry?” came the happy voice of Dumbledore’s portrait.
“Yes, sir,” Harry mumbled, walking slowly over to the painting.
“McGonagall told me about your great victory, though she says you won’t talk about what went on for the three days you were behind the shield. All she knew was that you couldn’t believe that anyone was alive at first.”
“For a lifetime, though it was said for only three days, I was bound in the Mind’s Eye,” Harry said with a smile that didn’t touch his eyes.
Dumbledore’s portrait laughed. “I suppose that might be all anyone ever knows about the Mind’s Eye, then. So what is bothering you now? Obviously whatever you saw wasn’t real, at least not to anyone but you and Voldemort. You’ve won! You have brought peace to the Wizarding world, and I couldn’t be happier for you, or more proud. Why aren’t you happy?” There was a shrewd look on Dumbledore’s face, and Harry knew he had gotten straight to the problem.
“What do I do now?” Harry said in a rush. “Ever since the first day I learned about the Wizarding world, I knew that Voldemort was out there, somewhere, and stopping him from coming back, and then defeating him after he did, is all that I’ve ever known. I thought for a while that I wanted to be an Auror, but I’ve had enough of violence and Dark Wizards. I just don’t know what to do. It’s like I’ve accomplished everything fate wanted me to do and now there isn’t anything left.”
His voice grew quieter as he spoke, until it was finally a whisper. He had been afraid to say that to anyone else, sure that they would interpret it as Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, wanting some new grand task that would keep him in the lime light, give him more glory and fame, and let him continue to play the hero. He had never wanted the fame. He just truthfully didn’t know what to do next.
Dumbledore smiled like he understood, and said, “I know exactly what you can do.” And he motioned for Harry to come forward, as if for a secret.
Harry hadn’t expected that answer and leaned forward, expecting to hear of some task or quest, or almost anything but what he was told.
“Live your life,” the portrait said in a whisper, and smiling at his confusion.
“Live my life?” Harry asked.
“Yes, Harry. For years now, you have let yourself become so focused on fulfilling your destiny that you haven’t let yourself even think about what to do afterwards. And now, after having been given as great a gift as could exist, the chance to live, you still think you have some obligation to the rest of the world. It’s that selflessness that allowed you to defeat Voldemort in the end, I’d wager, or least partly that. The willingness to give yourself up for the good of those you love, and even those you’ve never met. Now that you’ve defeated him, I think you wonder why Fawkes made the sacrifice that he did for you. He wanted you to live, Harry, in a way that you haven’t been able to experience yet. You do not owe anything to anyone. You are free to do whatever you want to do! Have fun, do whatever makes you happy. I’m sure you’ll still be giving of yourself to everyone around you because it makes you happy to do it, but now make that the reason for doing it. Instead of being the Boy Who Lived, be the boy who lived!”
Harry sat back, thinking. A slow smile that filled his eyes came across his face.
“Live my life?” he asked, the smile getting wider.
“Live your life,” the portrait answered. “And do try and visit every once in a while, too.”
Harry laughed as he said goodbye and went to find Ginny, Ron, and Hermione. It was time to start living.
A/N: Okay, that's almost it. Stay tuned for the epilogue! I really hope you are all satisfied with the ending. I'm sorry that Fawkes is gone forever, but that's just the way it is. No cliffhanger this time, but I hope you'll all read to the end.