I lay face down for a long moment. Finally, I stir as I sit up. Glancing about, I can't seem to find Harry. I'm all alone and I can't tell if this is a good thing or a bad. Did he... make it? Is he still alive?
Peering into a bright, white mist, I see nothing. But somewhere, out there, in the mist, is a soft thumping.
I stand, peering up. A domed glass roof hovers over me, and it seems almost familiar. The thumping persists. Unnerving, I squint into the mist.
Stepping forward, the thumping grows louder. Up ahead a small mass quivers. I slow down, recoiling. A thing, like a small child, lies shuddering on the ground, it's skin raw and rough. I lean closer.
"You cannot help." I spin, finding Dumbledore standing within the mist. At the sight of me, Dumbledore beams and spreads his arms wide. His hand is whole, no longer damaged. "Amelia. You wonderful girl. You brave, brave woman. Let us walk."
I get back up to my feet and stand in awe at the old Professor. He looks better than I've ever seen him before.
"Sir, where's Harry?" I ask.
"I reckon he's going through a rather similar experience."
"So he's somewhere else? Speaking to you too?" I question as we start walking along the bright walkway.
"Yes." He nods. "Amazing what you can do when you're no longer living."
"Then... I'm dead." I state plainly.
"Ah. That is the question, isn't it? On the whole I think not." His gaze focus's ahead as we stride.
"Not?" I raise my eyebrow.
"Not."
"But we didn't defend ourselves. We let him kill us."
"And that will, I think, have made all the difference." He looks to me. "I suspect you now realize that you, your brother, and Voldemort have been connected by something other than fate since that night in Godric's Hollow all those years ago, Mia."
"It's true, isn't it, sir? A bit of him lives in Harry and I, doesn't it?"
"Did. Both bits were just destroyed only moments ago by none other than Voldemort himself." I play my fingers over my sternum. "You and your brother were the seventh and eighth Horcrux, Mia; the Horcrux he never meant to make."
"And you knew this? That's why you were certain we wouldn't die?" I ask, stopping in my tracks.
"Certain? No." He stops next to me and turns. "Little is certain in this world, Mia. Call it an educated guess." Dumbledore smiles.
"Was it an educated guess that I would need the Time Turner?" I question curiously. He ponders this.
"So, you indeed needed it?" He answers my question with one of his own.
"Fred didn't survive." I look down. "I used it to go back and save him."
"That must have been a decision you didn't take lightly." He looks to me knowingly.
"I think you and I both know it was a rash decision." I avoid his gaze, awaiting my lecture.
"You shouldn't have-" I cut him off.
"I know I shouldn't have messed with time just to bring back the man I am completely and irrevocably in love with. I know it was risky, and I should have thought about the consequences." I roll my eyes. "But, Sir, you must understand how I must have felt. First my parents, then Cedric, then Sirius, you, Remus.." my voice trails off. "I couldn't bare losing Freddie too. I had to save him. If not for me, then for the Weasley family."
"If you let me finish..." he smirks at me. I look at him confused. "You shouldn't have expected me to give it to you and have you not use it in return. You knew the precautions, the consequences. But even I think you have gone through enough pain in your seventeen years of life."
"So, you don't blame me, sir?"
"Of course I don't blame." He laughs. "I would have done the same if the rolls were reversed."
I ponder this, then, deep in the mist, the thumping returns. "Professor, is that..."
"Something beyond either of our help."
I glance at my surroundings. "Exactly where are we, sir?"
"I was going to ask you that. Where would you say that we are?" Dumbledore asks.
"It looks like King's Cross station... only a lot cleaner. And without all the trains." I look around.
"King's Cross! Is that right?" Dumbledore looks too. "Well, this is, as they say, your party."
I give him a perplexed look, but Dumbledore only smiles.
"Sir, why didn't you just tell us about the Deathly Hallows?" I question.
"You will have to forgive me, Amelia. You see... I didn't trust you or your brother." I stare at him. For the first time, Dumbledore looks troubled. "I feared that you would make the same mistake I made, that you would be intoxicated by the power the Hallows promise their possessor. But I crave your pardon, Mia. It's clear to me now, as it should have been all along, that you and Harry are the better people."
"Sir..." my voice trails off.
"You and your brother are the worthy possessors of
the Hallows, Amelia, not me. I was fit to own the Elder Wand, because I took it not for gain, but to save others from it. But I took the Stone because I longed to recall someone who has long been at peace and for that I paid with my life." I'm taken aback by his words, then I begin to u see stand what he means.
"You wanted to see Ariana again, didn't you, sir?"
"Yes." I ponder this, then frown.
"We used the Stone as only a little while ago when we entered the Forest. We saw our mum and dad, and Sirius, and Lupin..."
"True. But ask yourself this: were you calling them? Or were they calling you?" I study Dumbledore, whose expression remains serene. He looks me in the eyes. "You and Harry are the true masters of death Amelia, because the true master does not seek to run away from death. They accept that they must die, and understands that there are far, far worse things in the living world."
For a moment, we stand in silence. "I've got to go back, haven't I?"
"That is up to you."
"I've got a choice?" I ask. "And so does Harry?"
"Oh yes." He nods. "We are in King's Cross you say? I think, should you so to decide, you would be able let's say, board a train."
"And where would it take me?"
"On."
As he says this, I take a seat on a pristine bench. Smiling to myself, I look up and notice Dumbledore walking off into the brightness.
"Voldemort's got the Elder Wand. And the snake lives."
"Yes." He says, not bothering to turn around.
"And I've nothing to kill it with."
"'Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.'" I glance at him. "I have always prized my ability to turn a phrase. Words are, in my not so humble opinion, our most inexhaustible source of magic, capable both of inflicting injury and remedying it. But I would, in this case, amend my original statement to this..." he stops and turns towards me. "Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who most deserve it... Assuming circumstances in the main are favorable to such an outcome, of course."
"With all due respect, sir, I think what we need here is a miracle." I scoff.
"I've never put much stock in miracles, Mia. On the other hand, I can attest wholly to the extensive advantages of a related phenomenon."
"Which would be, sir?"
"Luck." I study Dumbledore's face, then peer back into the mist again. The thumping continues, more faintly. "Do not pity the dead, Mia. Pity the living and, above all, those who live without love."
"Sir, my mother's Patronus. It was a doe, wasn't it? Just like mine and Professor Snape's. Curious, don't you think?" I raise an eyebrow at him.
"Actually, if I think about it... it doesn't seem curious at all." He smiles. "I'll be going now, Amelia."
"Professor." I say. As Dumbledore stops, I gestures vaguely. "Is this real? Or has this been happening inside my head?"
"Of course it is happening inside your head, Mia. But why should that mean that it is not real?" Dumbledore beams as the mist thickens around, swallowing him altogether.