Chapter Seventy Three
Alex was standing in the shadows for a few minutes before Sirius Black noticed him. The wizard was sat on a bench, head bowed and his hands clasped between his knees. Alex knew he didn't have long to intrude on his dream, or in this universe even, but he was lost in his own muddled thoughts and regrets, some he knew he was sharing with Sirius at that very moment.
Eventually though, he did raise his head.
"Alex?" he said. His voice was hoarse and his eyes were blood shot. "What's happening, am I back-"
"No," said Alex quickly, shaking his head and stepping into the dim morning light. "You're not back in Limbo. You've just nodded off. I wanted to come see you, see how you were doing."
Sirius grimaced and leaned back against the stone wall. They were in a small alcove attached to the church in Godric's Hollow, and outside it was drizzling. "How do you think I'm doing," he said gruffly. "I'm about to bury my Godson next to my best friend."
Alex sighed and walked over to the bench, gathering up his tailcoat and sitting down beside the man he'd only briefly met in Limbo. Sir Woofsalot materialised from under his feet, and rubbed his head against Sirius' leg. Absently, the other man dropped his hand to stroke his fur.
"If it's any consolation," Alex said. "I know it's what Harry wanted. To save you." He waggled his fingers at him. "In both our worlds, you were the closest thing he had to family, and he was willing to give his life for yours." He cleared his throat and looked out through the yawning. "They both were."
Sirius looked up from the puppy, regret and horror blossoming on his face. "Not your Harry too?" he said.
Alex sighed. "He's still in Limbo," he said. "Been there a few days. He lost his body to Voldemort, so...that's that. He can't go back."
Sirius lowered his head again, shaking it. "It's not right," he said. "I had my life, he should have left it, should have..." He trailed off, still shaking his head angrily.
"That's why I wanted to pop by," said Alex. "I know it's been an emotional few days, what with the Ministry on your back."
Sirius made a disdainful noise. "The kids gave their testimony right there in the Death Chamber, they were so hysterical after Harry...After we got back. I think they scared the Unspeakables a little if I'm honest." He rubbed his hands over his face. "I don't really care," he said. "I just wanted to be here today, to do my job, to pull the casket. They can throw me back in Azkaban after that for all it matters."
"Nope," said Alex, standing up and shaking his head. "No, that's not what Harry would have wanted and you know it. You have to keep fighting, for him, for both of you."
"I just don't see the point," said Sirius, and Alex looked on him kindly.
"You will," he promised. "Maybe not today, or next week or even next year. But eventually you will see the point again, and you'll be glad of it."
"Harry was what got me through Azkaban," said Sirius. "All those months, sleeping in caves, living like a dog. And now the Ministry are willing to believe I might not have caused Lily and James' death, but..." He trailed off, his eyes lost staring in the middle distance.
Alex placed his hand on Sirius' shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said.
Sirius nodded but didn't look up. "I know," he said. "It all got pretty messed up didn't it?"
Alex lifted his hand and wrapped his arms around his waist. "You have no idea," he said with a sigh. "We'll be recovering from this for decades."
"Seems right I guess," said Sirius, interlocking his fingers and pressing them onto his knuckles.
Alex pulled a pocket watch from his jeans and popped open the clasp. "You better wake up," he said, showing Sirius the face. "Almost time."
Sirius sighed heavily but nodded. "Thank you," he said, rubbing the back of his sleeve over his eyes and standing. "I supposed it's good weather," he commented, indicating the rain. "For a funeral."
Alex sighed. "No weather is good for a funeral," he said. "Take care Sirius Black, I will be checking in with your Watcher quite regularly, I'll promise you that."
Sirius managed a weak smile, and turned up his collar as he prepared to step out into the damp morning. "Look after your Harry for me," he said. "It'll be nice, to think of you both up there." He glanced upwards, as if Limbo was a physical place above the clouds, but Alex knew the living frequently thought of their afterlives waiting for them in the sky. So he just nodded, and with Sir Woofsalot at his heals his slipped back into the shadows, walking once more into the familiar wide marble corridor of Limbo.
After the tranquillity of the church yard, it was startling to come back to the chaotic halls of Limbo. The corridors and archways, usually peaceful to the point of uneasiness, were a riot of moving and screeching bodies. People, animals and anything in between, running, shouting, pushing, waving papers, reading memos, writing messages. Now that Limbo had shrunk back to its more usual size, all its permanent residents were out in force, trying to make sense of the upheaval that had befallen them.
Sir Woofsalot whined and scratched at Alex's jeans. "I know Woofsy," he said as a troop of dwarves went marching past, forcing the two of them further into the throng. "It was less scary when people were trying to kill us." He looked down at his pup. "Stay close!" he instructed, and Sir Woofsalot barked once in compliance.
They drove into the hoard, trying to stay on course despite the rushing bodies and charging hooves. "Watch out," cried Alex cheerfully. "Just a moment, yes thank you very much." He weaved in between the constantly moving targets, easing past doors that were almost always closed but today were opening and closing like shutters in a hurricane. Like they had seen back at Malfoy Manor, often the doors would be approached by Watchers, who would hold the handle for a moment in thought before opening it on the location of their choosing. But there was a grand set of double doors that had been propped open as wide as they could go, and as Alex walked slowly past, struggling with the masses, he could see inside the courtroom that had been attacked by the two Voldemorts, packed to the rafters even more so than the corridors he was moving through.
"Order!" a wizened old goblin was shouting as people yelled and waved ballot papers in the air. "Order I say!"
Alex raised his eyebrows at Sir Woofsalot. "After what happened to the last Council," he said as they moved on. "You think they'd be less keen."
"Ain't you got work to be doin'?" a disapproving voice rasped out from across the sea of people, moving in the opposite direction.
"Oh believe me Adelaide," said Alex cheerfully, waving out to her. "Enough for several lifetimes."
"Hello darling!" saluted Effie, sashaying along in Adelaide's wake, nodding her big, purple, feathered hat. "How's your universe?"
"Still intact," said Alex as a centaur dodged impatiently around him. "Yours?"
"Like clockwork," said the Victorian with a wink.
"Like a pig in the parlour," growled Adelaide, raising an eyebrow at Effie. "Magic school's near 'bout fallin' apart, an' that red-headed family are testin' mah patience."
Alex chuckled to himself as the tide of the crowd pulled them further apart. "Enjoy yourselves," he said as a checkout girl covered in blood all but ran into him.
"Sorry," she said in a Polish accent. "I am lost, could you point me to orientation?"
Alex pointed down the corridor. "Just keep going until you hear the sound of grown men weeping," he said.
"Thank you." The girl nodded and smiled, and Alex noted her name tag.
"Be seeing you Ania," he said as she rushed off, and he hoped that would be true. Sir Woofsalot looked after her, wagging his tail.
A snippet of people singing caught his ear, and Alex let himself be whirled around by a gaggle of peasant folk in seared and scorched clothing, lugging pails of water. He almost asked what they were up to, but decided against it and followed the singing instead. He soon tracked it down to a set of roughly cut double doors with thick, wrought iron hinges and knockers. With a raise of the eyebrow to Sir Woofsalot, he pushed against one of them and peeked in.
The hall was long and lit only by dim torchlight. Straw littered the ground as well as broken tankards and gnawed on animal bones. There were a few dozen Vikings clustered around a very long and cluttered wooden table, reaching from an enormous blazing fireplace towards where Alex was standing several feet away. Every kind of meat Alex could think of was piled on silver platters, dripping with honey, gravy, butter and even chocolate. Bread and potatoes filled any space that was in danger of going unoccupied in between, and running all along the centre of the long table was cake upon cake, all proudly standing on gleaming stands and covered in all manner of fruit, cream and fondants.
It was mostly men, but the odd woman could be seen too, and they all had at least one drink in their hands that they were sloshing about as they stamped their feet and wailed in each others' faces. "AYEEAHHHHH-AH!" they were signing enthusiastically as some of them beat out a rhythm on the table's edge.
"We come from the land of the ice and snow,
From the midnight sun where the hot springs flow.
The hammer of the gods will drive our ships to new lands,
To fight the horde, singing and crying: Valhalla, I am coming!"
Alex ducked as several more cups and what remained of their contents went flying over the Vikings' heads, and a general roar of appreciation was bellowed by the warriors for their fallen fellows.
Alex looked down at the dog in between his feet, who tilted his head. "You're right Woofsy," he said. "Best to leave before they make us join in."
The two of them slipped out unseen and closed the door again, only quieting the din fractionally. Alex smiled at the wood, remembering what he'd said to Harry after Arnthor had met them in the graveyard. "I think they've got the right idea," he said to his dog as they moved on again. "Good excuse for a damn fine party." Though as he thought of Godric, of Seamus and of both the Harrys, he couldn't say he truly felt like celebrating.
He let the people and creatures push and pull against him, and he let his eyes drift through the crowd, until he happened on another still figure, propped up against his broom, listening to his headphones and watching the throng of frenzied masses pass him by. The janitor troll caught Alex's eye, and the two shared a smile and a nod. Perhaps he had the right idea, perhaps Alex needed to let this storm pass him by, to get some peace and quiet until everyone else put their affairs back in order.
He knew where he always used to go when he needed things to make sense, or when he felt he hadn't been told off in a while and probably should have been, so he started making his way to the nearest door. He didn't expect anyone to be waiting for him on the other side, but that didn't stop him as he pushed ahead and took hold of the handle, gripping it for just a moment before heading inside.
"Oh," he said in surprise as he walked into the room.
The office was just as he remembered; coffee mugs on every available surface, abacus and computer on the desk, take-out menus and finger painting on the note board that had once been on the door. But there was in fact someone on the other side of Jia's desk, and that someone was ushering him in with a hiss.
"Close it, close it!" said Merlin from where he was standing on a stool, sheets of paper in one hand and a fountain pen in the other. "For the love of man don't let those rabid cretins in!"
Alex and Sir Woofsalot scuttled in and closed the door shut with a click. The quiet that followed was both welcome and soothing. "I'm sorry," said Alex. "I didn't think anyone would be here?"
Merlin shrugged and pushed up a pair of half-moon glasses that were threatening to slip down his nose. "In case it had escaped your attention," he said. "The populous is in a bit of a pickle. I was just seeing what I could do to help out."
"You mean hide," said Alex sliding further into the room and clapping his hands together. He eyed up several reports on the edge of the desk that looked familiar, and reached to inspect them closer, but no sooner had his hand extended than it was slapped away by a riding crop. "Ow," he said accusingly, but Merlin just retracted the crop and raised an eyebrow.
"Not hiding," he said. "Tactical withdrawal."
"And the beating stick?" asked Alex, nursing his hand.
Again Merlin raised an eyebrow. "Necessary," he said with only the slightest hint of exasperation, and glanced below the desk.
Curious, Alex moved around to see what was lurking below, and no sooner had he seen did he understand. There, curled up and snoring softly, was the little, rotund figure of a dragon he had not long ago named Puff. He had made a bed out of a small fortune of gems and precious metals, the top layer of which were the nuggets of potential energy Alex himself had given him as reward for helping them. The purple amulet was still hung around his neck, and his teddy bear was propped under his head, still missing an eye and slightly burnt, but otherwise intact.
"Ahh," said Alex, amused. "I was wondering where he'd got to."
Puff rolled over in his slumber, squirming his back into his jewels and smiling drowsily. "Treeea-suuure," he breathed, gloating even in his unconsciousness. "Pree-teey."
Alex smirked, but tried to cover it with his hand. Merlin didn't seem to share his sentiment. "Can't get rid of the little bugger," he said stiffly. "Says he needs my protection."
Alex let a small laugh tickle the back of his throat, but masked it as a cough and said nothing.
"Did you want something?" asked Merlin, peering at several documents he was holding.
Alex considered. "No," he said. "I guess not."
"Then I'll see you tomorrow with a full report." Merlin looked over his glasses and raised an eyebrow. "Say 9am?"
"Should I call you boss then?" asked Alex, sauntering over to the broom cupboard.
Merlin's eyes were back on his papers, but he managed a twitch of a smile. "For the time being," he said. "I suppose."
Alex grinned, then reached for the handle and pulled the door open. He'd had quite enough excitement for one day, and was happy to walk back into his own front hall.
Sir Woofsalot dashed through just as the door swung shut behind them, and Alex let out a loud sigh, shrugging off his tailcoat. It was good to get it off, and as he hung it on the rack he rolled his shoulders.
"Come on boy," he said, and wandered into the living room. It seemed an age since he'd just put his feet up, so he lit the fire, dropped heavily into his favourite armchair, and kicked his boots off. Sir Woofsalot took a moment to inspect his socks before hopping up into his lap. "Oi, you big lump," said Alex, but the dog knew he didn't mean a word of it as he circled and snuggled in for a nap.
"Oh all right," said Alex, pretending to give in, and within seconds with little dog had shut his eyes and was breathing deeply.
"Hmm," said Alex, sighing and rubbing the puppy's head. "That actually looks like a nice idea."
He wasn't used to sleeping any more, he didn't have a real body so he'd got out of practice. But as he closed his eyes and snuggled further into the plush fabric of the chair, he could feel his senses dulling. "Maybe just a little while," he mumbled to himself and the fire crackled, and the portraits of his old friends whispered quietly on the wall. "Maybe I could use a nap too."
His eyes closed, he thought of everything that had brought him to that moment, his world getting darker and quieter by the moment. He thought of Godric, grinning, always grinning. He thought of Seamus, of his passion for his universe and how Alex would miss them both now they were truly gone. But then he thought of Harry and of Draco, the boys that had got them all into this mess in the first place, and he was sure his felt his tired face smile with pride.
His boys. His troublesome boys. Not in a millennia had anyone meddled with the universes so badly, nor had they made his day more exciting, more problematic or more memorable.
"Thanks," he murmured.
And for the first time in almost a decade, Alex felt his mind truly shutting off, drifting into that elusive pattern of sleep that he so envied amongst the living. Would he dream? he thought, as he slipped into the darkness.
He hoped so.
The End