CONFUNDUS; harry potter [UNDER EDITION]

CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

HARRY

King's Cross station has been the first place Harry thought of when the word freedom was mentioned. Superficial for most people because everyone likes to travel, get away from responsibilities and duties. Fantasies of visiting foreign lands and becoming a stranger among the crowd, of finding love and friends and adventures. It was a dream Harry had since he was little. Not because his life was dull but because his life was awful.

Ever since Harry understood the Dursleys would never like him, he knew he isn't like most people. No family and no place to call home. No friends to play with. No relatives to tell about his dreams. For so long, Harry was navigating alone in the cruel world. Searching, looking, hoping.

Harry understood at the age of six, he will always be alone.

Why did he think anything was going to change?

Yes. At eleven, still naive and hopeful, Harry imagined bright futures with his loved ones. His Christmas started to mean something, his birthdays were remembered, people asked questions and listened and he was adored. It hasn't been easy, he thinks, because Voldemort's presence was looming since the beginning, chaining him to a destiny he couldn't escape until now.

Dying alone in the woods was just the universe laughing at him.

And Dumbledore welcoming him was the joke still resonating among deities.

Harry doesn't have the strength to resent a dead man when everything starts making sense; Horcruxes, Hallows, Voldemort, the wands. It feels eternal, their conversation, because the more Dumbledore explains, more questions come to his mind. It's a lot to process when he is assimilating he just died.

"If you planned your death with Snape, you meant him to end up with the Elder Wand, didn't you?" Harry asks, pulling the missing pieces together. It's complicated. He was never this good with riddles and puzzles, that's more of Lucca's speciality.

"I admit that was my intention," says Dumbledore, "but it did not work as I intended, did it?"

"No," says Harry. "That bit didn't work out."

The creature whimpers and wails but Harry doesn't look at it. His attention goes to the figure approaching with steady steps. Dumbledore sighs, seeming to notice her, too.

"Ah, I suppose we're running out of time," Dumbledore nods to himself as the woman halts in front of him. Harry gapes at her. She is beautiful in ways Harry can't grasp. Something about her screams peace and serenity. "Harry, this is your moment to choose."

"I've got a choice?"

"Oh yes." Dumbledore smiles at him. "We are in King's Cross, you say? I think that if you decided not to go back, you would be able to... board a train."

"And where would it take me?" Harry looks at the woman. "The Afterlife?"

Dumbledore remains silent as she replies. "Precisely. Only if you want to," and she extends her hand, an open invitation. "This time, however, with my protection."

Harry considers her offer. Leaving this place will not be nearly as hard as walking into the forest had been. But its warmth and light and peace... If he agrees, Harry would see his parents and Sirius again. If he leaves, the war will end in a way because Ron and Hermione know what to do. Neville knows about the snake. He isn't crucial anymore. And yet, when Harry extends his hand to reach for her, under Dumbledore's disappointed stare, Lucca comes to his mind. For a brief moment, Harry sees Lucca in her features. His Lucca.

"You're the Grim," realisation hits him hard. "You're Death."

The Grim smiles. "Lucca wasn't mistaken about you, Harry Potter," she says calmly. "Yes. I am the Grim. And I am allowing you to return to your life or move on."