Percy sat, fiddling with his hands uncomfortably as he stared across the table at the mind healer Harry's barrister had found.
Her name was Daniela Bianchi. She spoke with an Italian accent, but what truly tongue-tied him was how strikingly beautiful the woman was with her long blonde hair, blue eyes, and slender frame, added to that his own discomfort at what he was here to do left him feeling both nervous and intimidated.
He idly wondered if she was a vela as he did his best not to put his foot in his mouth and come off looking like a complete buffoon.
"Percy," Daniela said softly. "Let's talk about what you've been through," she said, well aware of the effect her appearance had on him as she gave him a few moments to compose himself.
"I've read the newspapers, both the Quibbler and the Prophet, and also a report from the healers at St. Mungo's about your injuries. What you've been through, it can't have been easy," Daniela said.
"I didn't have any injuries," Percy mumbled, gluing his eyes to the tabletop, feeling a fresh wave of guilt and shame at his actions. "…I ran away, and got hit with a stupefy."
"Maybe… maybe you should talk to Ron, or Fred and George, or Harry. They deserve your help a lot more than I do," Percy added.
"Why do you say that?" Daniela asked patiently. "Why do you believe they are more deserving than you?"
"It's bloody obvious, isn't it?" Percy snapped, feeling a flash of anger. "Sorry.." He mumbled. "I didn't mean that.. It was rude—"
"No, it isn't," Daniela said, keeping her tone neutral. "I can see that you are hurting. None of the emotions you express are wrong, and you don't have to apologize for that."
Percy deflated, letting out a sigh. "I don't know how much Harry had to pay to get you here, but I know it wasn't cheap. You shouldn't be wasting your time on the guy who ran away."
"You're right," Daniela agreed, surprising him. "So rather than waste any more of Harry's galleons assigning blame, and beating yourself up, let's talk about what's actually bothering you. You said you didn't have any injuries, but that's not true," she said, pulling out a folder, and placing Percy's medical reports on the desk.
"According to the healer's report, you got hit by a cutting curse, a stupefy, and a banishing charm in quick succession. They believe it was when you landed on the ground that you cracked two of your ribs, and bruised your hip," she explained.
"What?" Percy asked, bewildered, looking down at the medical reports. "No, there must have been some kind of mix-up," he said, furrowing his brows. "When I woke up, I was fine."
"Yes," Daniela agreed. "The healers decided not to rennervate you until they saw to your injuries, although," she said, looking down at the report. "Your ribs were still healing when you woke. You may have felt a sharp pain in your side. Do you remember that?"
Percy closed his eyes, reflecting on everything he remembered after waking up at St. Mungo's, but everything felt hazy. He remembered looking for Simon, for his brothers, the chaos, and panic around him, not being able to make sense of it, but nothing about his own condition.
"…No," he finally replied. "I don't… I'm not sure."
Daniela nodded, making a note. "That explains some things."
"What?" Percy asked, meeting her eyes.
"It's mostly seen in Aurors, Hit Wizards, sometimes with Dragon Handlers too," Daniela explained. "It even has a name — combat fatigue."
"It's a temporary disconnect from one's surrounding, diminished awareness of physical injuries, an inability to prioritize tasks. Does that sound like what you were experiencing?"
"Maybe," Percy admitted, tracing his thumb along the grain of the table, his mind flashing back to the look on Simon's face as he ran away.
"…Why does any of this matter?" he finally asked. "It doesn't change what happened, what I did."
"No, it doesn't," Daniela agreed. "But it should give you some perspective. What happened to you wasn't as simple as you make it out to be. You were completely out of your depth in a situation you were in no way prepared for, and had no hope of controlling."
"It doesn't change the fact that I ran, when all of my brothers stood and fought, Ron included," Percy muttered.
"You place a lot of value on standing and fighting. Why is that?" Daniela observed.
"I'm a Gryffindor," Percy replied, not feeling the same swell of pride he normally did when he said those words, leaving a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach when he said it now. "We're supposed to be brave, to protect others. I failed at both."
Daniela nodded, making another note. "I see you're also a prefect," she continued. "Does that factor into how you're feeling now?"
Percy couldn't bring himself to say the words, and could only nod his head.
"Your duties as a prefect include enforcing school rules, assisting professors, guiding first-year students, and rewarding and deducting points. Does that more or less cover it?"
Percy nodded, keeping his eyes glued to the table.
"You also singled out your brother Ron earlier. Why?" Daniela pressed.
"He's my kid brother," Percy replied. "I promised Mum that I would look out for him."
"From what I can tell, Ron is fine, at least physically," Daniela replied. "He also speaks highly of you. He said that you're his favorite brother. Did he ever tell you that?"
"No," Percy said, looking up in surprise. "He didn't, but after what happened, I'm sure he changed his mind."
"No," Daniela said, shaking her head. "He was very clear on that. He was not speaking in the past tense."
"Why?" Percy asked, his brows furrowing in confusion.
"You listened, you talked to him," Daniela said, reciting what Ron had said to her in their session. "You took the time to explain things to him, you never played any pranks on him, and most importantly you never put him down. After my session with him, he told me he wanted you to know that."
"Why are you telling me this?" Percy asked, not understanding where she was going with any of it. "What does it matter?"
"Your sense of self, your perceived value to others seems to be entangled with the house you were sorted into, and your position as prefect," Daniela explained.
Percy nodded. He had never considered it in those terms before, but couldn't disagree with Daniela's assessment either.
"Ron formed his opinion of you long before you attended Hogwarts," Daniela explained. "And it hasn't changed since."
"The criteria you use to assign value to yourself are valid, but they're not the only criteria, and they aren't always the criteria others use to value you either. Those criteria are no less valid than yours," she continued. "I want you to think about that, and we'll talk about it more at our next session."
"That's it?" Percy asked, surprised, looking at the clock. It had been barely twenty minutes.
"You were expecting more?" Daniela asked, her lips quirking into a smile.
"… Sort of," Percy replied, feeling out of his depth as he stared back at Daniela.
"Let me guess," Daniela smiled. "Hours upon hours of interrogation, picking apart every detail of what went wrong, and what you could have done better until you walk out of here completely fixed?"
Percy nodded his head ruefully. It sounded silly hearing it out loud, but he couldn't deny that was how he felt at the time.
"If only it were that simple," Daniela said, shaking her head wistfully, but seeing the confused look on Percy's face she continued. "Identifying mistakes is useful, but only in teaching you how to avoid repeating those same mistakes in the future, but that isn't what you're doing."
"You're trying to envision a scenario, a series of events you could have changed so Simon would have lived," Daniela explained.
"What's wrong with that?" Percy asked defensively.
"Well, let's play it out," Daniela replied. "Let's say you figured it all out. What now?"
"What? What do you mean?" Percy asked, perplexed.
"You don't have to tell me what you would have done differently. That's not the exercise," Daniela explained. "I'm just posing the scenario. You know exactly what you could have done differently, what do you do with that now?"
Percy stared at the mind healer for a long moment, mentally trying to work the steps out as looked for the answer she wanted to hear.
"No, Percy, that's not the exercise," Daniela said patiently, seeing the look of concentration on his face. "In the scenario, you already know what you should have done. I'm asking you what you do with that knowledge now."
Percy stared back at Daniela, his mind screaming that he would do it. He would save his best friend, but then it hit him like a ton of bricks. What Daniela had been getting at the whole time. He couldn't do anything. Simon was already dead and gone, and there was no way to change it.
"It's okay," Daniela said softly, seeing the realization on his face. "I'm sorry for your loss. I truly am. These first sessions always dredge up a lot of powerful emotions. It may not feel like it now, but what you are feeling is normal."
"What now?" Percy asked, his voice thick with emotion as he relieved the guilt he felt all over again.
"Now we call it a day," Daniela replied. "Today was about expanding your field of view, to look at the events you experienced and the emotions you felt through a wider lens. You did very well, and now you need time to process, and for your emotions to settle before we can continue."
Percy nodded slowly as Daniela's words sunk in.
"Percy," Daniela said, standing up. "I'm going to go have a quick chat with Harry, but we'll talk again tomorrow. You are going to get better, but it's going to take time, and patience."
Percy nodded gratefully, standing up as well. "Thank you."
Daniela smiled. "Go have same fun, relax. Read a book, whatever makes you happy. It will get better with time. I promise."
***
Daniela walked through the burrow, a frown on her face as she contemplated the task in front of her. 'They're children,' she thought, but they were dealing with issues most fully grown adults never experienced.
Seeing the unfiltered horrors of war and death, not in a textbook, but right in front of your eyes left a mark on the soul, one that was that much harder to deal with when it happened to children.
She remembered reading the articles on a visit to France, visiting a newsstand, and picking up a copy thinking it was a tabloid trying to make a quick galleon, but as she read the article her skepticism had melted away, replaced by shock, and horror.
The pictures, the accounts from the students. They were too real, too raw to be lies, and left her contemplating what could have happened had Harry not stopped it.
When she received the letter weeks later from Ted Tonks, she had thought long and hard about declining his offer. She had only finished her training the year before, and felt well out of her depth, but knew she couldn't just turn a blind eye to it either.
Ted had explained about the severe shortage of mind healers in Europe, and how the waiting list had quickly ballooned from months to years, sealing her decision. She had to help in any way she could.
'There he is,' she thought, finally spotting Harry outside, sitting on the grass, talking to his friends, Ron Weasley, and Sally Perks.
"Harry," she called out, stepping outside as well. "I was hoping you had a few minutes to talk."
"Sure," Harry replied, standing up.
"Let's take a walk," she suggested.
"How are you settling in?" he asked as they walked across the meadow, making conversation.
"Very well, thank you," Daniela smiled. "It was very generous of you to pay for my room and board as well."
"It seemed like the right thing to do since you came all this way," Harry replied.
"I didn't realize Tom was a friend of yours," she said, referring to the friendly owner of the Leaky Cauldron.
"Tom," Harry smiled. "He was a good friend to me when I needed it."
"The way he tells the story, it very much goes both ways," Daniela replied.
"How did it go with Percy?" Harry asked, uncomfortable about talking about himself, and much more concerned with his friends.
"I'm sorry, Harry," Daniela said apologetically. "I can't share that kind of information with you, not without his permission."
"I understand," Harry replied, seeing the dilemma he put her in. "I just want him to get better."
"I know," Daniela replied. "He's very lucky in that. You all are, to have so many people that care about you, and want to help."
"Were you able to schedule a session with George?" Harry asked.
Daniela raised an eyebrow, shooting Harry an amused look.
"I don't want to know what happened in his session, just if he had one," Harry clarified.
"Not yet," Daniela replied, saying what she could without breaking her secrecy vows.
Harry nodded. "Was that what you wanted to talk about?"
"No, Harry, I actually wanted to talk about you. Aside from George, you're the only one I haven't had a session with yet. I've spoken to Arthur, Molly, even Ginny," Daniela explained, "but not you."
Harry nodded, not surprised the question had come up. "I appreciate the offer, but I hired you to help my friends. I'm fine."
"Are you?" Daniela asked, regarding Harry carefully. He didn't have the bags under his eyes like Percy and Fred, nor was he angry like George, and he'd already said he didn't have the nightmares the other children had, but her intuition was telling her something was off.
"I am," Harry replied evenly. He had the memories and emotions locked away in his mind, and that's where he intended to keep them. Dredging everything up again now would just slow down his recovery, and he simply didn't have time for it, not with everything else on his plate.
"How?" Daniela asked, at a loss on how to reach him. She had seen Hermione and Ron's memories of the battle, seen what Harry had been forced to do, the lives he'd been forced to take, heard the raw emotion in his voice as he watched his professor die.
He should have been the furthest thing from fine, but as far as she could see, he was somehow holding it all together, and no eleven-year-old boy should be able to do that.
In some ways he reminded her of a grizzled Auror who had lived through so many tragedies that he was numb to all of it.
"Does it matter?" Harry deflected. "It just isn't a priority for me at the moment. I have too many things to deal with, and not enough time, but when I do, we can sit down and have a session," he offered.
"Harry," Daniela replied, "that's not how this works. The longer you put this off, the worse it's going to be. You can't just bury your head in your work and expect things to get better on their own."
"I told you, I'm fine," Harry replied, his tone taking on a harder edge. "I have work to do, things that I can't just drop at a moment's notice. There are people counting on me, people I can't let down."
"You don't seem to have any problem asking your friends to talk about their feelings," Daniela observed. "Why is it so difficult for you to do the same?"
An annoyed look crossed Harry's face as he realized why Daniela had suggested they take a walk, so they could have a session without his friends overhearing, or him realizing what it was..
"Don't do that again," Harry said, coming to a stop as he shot a glare at Daniela.
To her credit, she didn't deny it or defend herself. "You're right," she admitted. "That was out of line. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."
Harry could only nod as Daniela expertly defused his anger, not just with her words, but because he could see her actions came from a place of genuine concern.
"Harry," Daniela sighed. "You're hiding it well, but I know you're hurting, and you need to take care of yourself too, and not just go off solving everyone else's problems first."
Rather than answering, Harry squinted, looking off into the distance, as he saw a familiar-looking owl approach. "Devlin," he said, thinking out loud as the owl landed on his arm before dropping its letter and flying off again.
Harry grabbed the letter, tearing it open, a smile crossing his face as he realized what it was. The board he'd commissioned was finally ready.
It felt like so long ago that he had asked Devlin to make it for him that he didn't think it would ever be ready.
"Harry? What's going on?" Daniela asked curiously, seeing Harry's face light up like she'd never seen before.
"I have to go," Harry replied, folding the letter and putting it in his pocket.
"Why? Is something wrong?" Daniela asked, concerned.
"No," Harry replied, setting off back to the house. "I commissioned something a while ago. It's finally ready."
Daniela held back her disappointed sigh as she watched Harry practically sprint back to the Burrow.
He was retreating, using the letter as an excuse to avoid talking about what he'd been through, but there wasn't a way for her to call him out on it either, not without making things worse, and she was already on shaky ground with him in her ill-conceived attempt to get him to open up.
***
"Harry!" Devlin smiled as Harry stepped into his workshop. "I had a feeling you might drop by," he joked.
"Devlin," Harry smiled. "Tell me you weren't pulling my leg. Did you really get it to work?"
"You tell me," Devlin replied, removing the sheet from the workbench and revealing a sleek metal board.
Harry looked down at the board in awe. He had expected wood, just like the broom handles. "What's it made of?" he asked, lifting it up and testing its weight. "It's so light."
"Titanium," Devlin replied. "At least the outer shell. Inside are three broom handles, cut and sized to fit. I designed it after a muggle skateboard."
"Can I try it out?" Harry asked eagerly.
"I was hoping you would say that," Devlin replied. "Just apply a sticking charm to your feet and step on the board."
Harry nodded, following Devlin's instructions as he sent a jolt of magic into the board. "WOAH!" he shouted, nearly shooting six feet into the air in an instant.
"Sorry! Sorry," Devlin said, grabbing the board and quickly pulling it back down, chuckling. "I should have warned you about that. It's a lot more efficient than the test board was."
"You're telling me," Harry agreed. "On the test board that should have been just enough to get me six inches off the ground, not six feet."
Devlin laughed. "Give it another shot," he said, taking a step back. "But this time, take it easy this time."
Harry nodded, this time sending a much smaller jolt of magic to the board, letting out a laugh as it rose into the air a couple of feet.
"Well, don't just stand there," Devlin said, a wide grin on his face. "Take it for a test drive, but try not to crash through the roof," he joked.
Harry nodded, sending another jolt of magic to the board, a matching grin on his face as he took the board through its paces, slowly building up speed until he was on par with what the Nimbus 2000 would be capable of, but it still felt like there was a lot more the board could give.
He looked down at the ground as he came to a stop, lowering himself down.
"Well?" Devlin asked expectantly.
"You delivered," Harry agreed, blown away by how well the board worked. "Even better than I hoped for."
"But," Devlin replied expectantly, knowing it was coming.
"…the sticking charm," Harry replied. "It isn't going to cut it. I need to move my feet to get the most out of its maneuverability and acceleration."
"Yeah," Devlin agreed, scratching his head. "I can see that. Also, we can't risk the sticking charm failing on a long flight."
Harry regarded Devlin with a raised eyebrow. "Long flight? You're talking like this is a production model, not a one of one."
"You got me thinking," Devlin admitted. "What do finance guys know anyway? How do you explain something to someone they can't even see or touch? How can you quantify the feeling of the wind in your hair as you soar above the clouds?"
"Maybe a small production run?" Harry suggested, agreeing wholeheartedly with Devlin. "Maybe ten?"
Devlin nodded, "and some boots to connect to the board, something solid, mechanical, so the user doesn't have to depend on their magic to stay on. Maybe cut back the speed on the production models for safety too. Not everyone has your reflexes."
"It's fine in here, but outside, wind is also going to be a problem," Harry added, continuing their brainstorming session. "I don't think goggles are going to be enough."
"No, definitely not," Devlin agreed, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Less air at high altitudes, cold too."
"Full face mask?" Harry said, thinking out loud. "It's a good place to add a rune cluster to solve the breathing problem too."
"Hmm," Devlin replied, looking at the board, "That'll work, but it won't solve the cold problem. That might require a flight suit."
"But with all that, what does it bring the cost to?" Harry asked. "Can anyone really afford that?"
Devlin let out a bark of laughter. "Probably double the cost at the very least, easily 20,000 galleons for production models. It won't be everyone's cup of tea either, but purebloods have deep pockets and are always trying to one-up each other."
"Maybe cut the production number down to five, and price them at 25,000 galleons, made to order, sell it on the exclusivity."
Harry nodded. After his brief meeting with Lucius Malfoy, he could definitely see it working.
"Good," Devlin nodded. "Now that that's settled, how are you feeling, partner?" he asked.
"Better than I have any right to be," Harry admitted after coming closer to death than most, both figuratively and literally.
"I read about it in the Quibbler, so did my better half. We were worried, Harry. Even tried to visit you at St. Mungo's, but they sent us away, said they weren't allowing any visitors," Devlin said, getting serious.
"Sorry," Harry replied. "I should have sent you a letter, or at least come by after the school year ended."
"Yeah, you should have," Devlin said gruffly. "Don't let it happen again."
"I won't," Harry promised.
"You're not just a silent partner around here, despite what the paperwork says," Devlin added.
"I know," Harry replied, neither of them in the mood to spill their guts and talk about their feelings, and more used to conveying their feelings with actions rather than words.
"…Lunch?" Devlin asked, breaking the silence.
"I could eat," Harry agreed, his lips quirking into a smile.
"Good," Devlin replied, his smile returning as he checked his watch. "Eloise said she'd have lunch ready about now."
Harry patted his stomach as he looked back at the Nimbus building, having just finished his extended lunch with Devlin and Eloise.
Checking his watch, he could already see that it was late afternoon, far later than he expected to stay, but didn't regret his decision for a moment.
With Daniela's words still echoing in his mind, he felt a flash of guilt. He had been ignoring both his friends and allies as he focused on his recovery, but today had been a wake-up call about how his actions affected the people he cared about.
He looked down the road. It wasn't too far to Cornelius's house, and he hadn't spoken to him either since leaving St. Mungo's.
'The day is almost gone anyway, no time to do anything else,' he thought, deciding to pay Cornelius a visit.
***
"Harry!" Cornelius smiled as he opened the door, seeing who it was. "It's good to see you. Come in! Come in!" he said, leading Harry to the living room.
"You're looking much better now," he observed, "not nearly as pale as you were at St. Mungo's. It looks like you put some weight back on too."
"Thanks," Harry replied, grateful for Merlin's potion knowledge to speed up his recovery.
"So what brings you out this way?" Cornelius asked as they sat down.
"I realized I've been ignoring my friends," Harry admitted. "Especially you."
"You're a busy kid. I get it," Cornelius dismissed casually, but Harry could still see it had an effect on him.
"How are you doing?" Harry asked. "It must be difficult to go from having your entire month planned out six months in advance to having so much free time."
Cornelius's smile faltered, surprised that Harry had figured him out so quickly. He had always been a workaholic, and suddenly having nothing to do had not been what he expected as the novelty quickly wore thin.
"…It hasn't been all bad," he replied. "I finally have the time to read a book cover to cover, and spend some more time with Isabel."
"You're sure you're okay?" Harry asked, still concerned.
Cornelius nodded. "I won't lie, it hasn't been easy, but I'm figuring it out. What about you?" he asked, changing the subject. "I bet Rufus is champing at the bit to talk to you."
Harry nodded. "I had a meeting with him the other day, actually. You were right about him."
Cornelius chuckled at the expression on Harry's face. "If there's one thing I know it's people Harry, and Rufus — he isn't a bad sort, but his ambition gets in the way of his common sense sometimes."
Harry nodded. "Is there anything else I should know about him?"
"Well," Cornelius said, scratching his head. "He's under water in the polls, so I'm betting he'll do just about anything to change that. He's probably going to lean heavily on his previous job as an Auror, and present himself as tough on crime, play up the whole man of action angle."
"Do you think that's going to work?" Harry asked curiously.
"An endorsement from you is probably going to prop him up," Cornelius replied, "and I would normally say the public has a short memory…."
"But," Harry said, noticing his pause.
"I think it may be different this time. The portal, Hogwarts, what you did. I think that's going to stick with people a lot longer than anyone at the Ministry or Wizengamot believes."
"The fact is, Scrimgeour wasn't elected. The Wizengamot appointed him. There's no way for him to get around that, added to that he stayed at the Ministry rather than go to Hogwarts for the battle. It kills the whole man of action persona he wants to build in the cradle," Cornelius said, offering his opinion.
Harry nodded. "I told him I would endorse him," he said, explaining the concessions Ted rung out of the man.
Cornelius threw his head back with a laugh. "I bet Ted loved every second of that."
Harry cracked a smile. "I'm just glad he's on my side."
Cornelius nodded. "He's definitely a tough negotiator, even had me sweating a couple of times."
"There's more," Harry continued. "The Wizengamot is going to call me in for an inquiry to talk about what happened at Hogwarts soon."
"They're going to expect you to keep quiet," Cornelius replied. "The Alumni are a black eye for them, considering so many former members were involved with them. The best advice I can give you is to go along with it, at least for now."
"That doesn't mean you have to be their poster boy, or tow the Wizengamot line," he clarified, "but only talk publicly about the stuff the Quibbler already printed."
"Why?" Harry asked curiously.
"They may not seem like it, but they are powerful, just in a way you're not used to dealing with," Cornelius explained. "They have a stranglehold on the laws, and through Scrimgeour control the Ministry, so they can't just be ignored."
"If they want to, they can make things difficult for you, increasing taxes, changing laws to target your businesses, surprise inspections, the list is endless honestly."
"How did they ever get this much power in the first place?" Harry wondered out loud.
"They've always had it," Cornelius replied honestly. "For as long as anyone can remember, really."
"It's not right," Harry replied.
"I don't disagree," Cornelius replied.
"Then how are they able to hang on to power for this long?" Harry questioned. "Make decisions that affect everyone, and when things go wrong, find a scapegoat to blame? How can it be that easy? Shouldn't someone have recognized the pattern, and called them out on it before?"
"Magic," Cornelius replied simply. "For the cost of a wand, usually 7 galleons or so, you have a tool that makes every aspect of your life infinitely easier. Too hot? Use a cooling charm. Too cold? Use a warming charm. Use a spell to clean your dirty dishes, and if you can't be bothered with doing any of that, get a house-elf, and for the cost of food you will have a servant for almost 200 years."
"All these conveniences make people complacent, content with their lot in life, and unless something truly terrible happens, they are happy to go along with it, and not rock the boat."
"People seemed upset after Hogwarts," Harry pointed out.
"Yes," Cornelius agreed. "That was perhaps the first chink in the Wizengamot's armor I've ever seen, and their normal tactics aren't having the same effect they usually do, but we'll have to see. The wizarding public has a notoriously short-term memory for scandals."
Harry thought back to his fellow students, and the ordeal they'd been through. "It doesn't feel like that's happening at Hogwarts."
Cornelius nodded. "They understand the price of complacency in a way most of our society will never truly understand."
"You understand it," Harry observed. "And you knew it before everything happened."
Cornelius nodded, continuing in a somber tone. "Yes. I, like most people, believed magic could solve every problem, that it just required the right amount of skill, and ingenuity. I was a very different person then. I doubt you would have even recognized me back then."
"When my Isabel… when it happened I was distraught. I brought in healers from all around the world looking for a cure. I was so confident then, but healer after healer, they all said the same thing. There was nothing they could do for her," Cornelius explained, his voice cracking.
"I was furious. I lashed out at them, accusing them of being frauds. I said terrible, terrible things to them," he said, his tone turning regretful. "That was when I realized what I had been taught to believe was wrong. Magic doesn't fix every problem."
"I wish I could have met her," Harry said wistfully, seeing how profoundly her absence affected Cornelius, even now, years later.
"Well, you can. If you'd like," Cornelius offered.
"Are you sure?" Harry asked, knowing how protective Cornelius was of her.
Cornelius smiled. "I talk to her every day, and I don't know why, but I think, even in her condition, she can still hear me. I've told her a lot about you, and I'd like for you to meet her, for her to hear your voice."
Harry nodded, following Cornelius out of the living room, and into Isabel's room.
He looked at Isabel lying on the bed. She looked as if she were in the middle of a nap, her chest rising and falling steadily, looking as if she could wake up at any second.
She had dark hair that went past her shoulders in soft curls. Her skin was pale, but not overly so considering her condition, and she had an oval-shaped face, a classic beauty in every sense of the word.
"Have a seat, Harry," Cornelius said, pointing to the chair beside the bed as he sat on the bed with her, taking her hand in his, and giving it a squeeze.
"Isabel," Cornelius said. "This is Harry. I told you about him before."
"Hello," Harry said, understanding how personal this was for Cornelius, and what it meant for him to introduce her to him. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Cornelius, he's said a lot about you. I wish I could have met you before…. I wish you could see what a good man your husband is."
"He helped me when I didn't even know I needed help, when I didn't understand what was happening to me. He took me under his wing, and he taught me how to survive the wizarding world when everyone else was trying to take advantage of me."
"I don't know if I would even be here if it weren't for him, but what I know is that he wouldn't be the man he is without you, so thank you."
"See," Cornelius said with a watery smile. "He's just like I told you — too kind for his own good, but his heart is always in the right place."
As Cornelius continued to speak Harry felt a sudden warmth in his pocket, his eyes widening as he realized what it was, the key, but there weren't any ghosts he could see, then his eyes settled on Isabel, trapped within her own body, unable to communicate with the outside world.
He looked at Cornelius, talking with Isabel, oblivious to what was going on. He knew what would happen if he touched the key — she would appear, Cornelius could talk to her, really talk to her, but it also meant that if she chose it, she could cross over to the other side.
He felt conflicted. Should he touch the key and allow Isabel to decide for herself what she wanted? What about Cornelius? His life revolved around his wife, and he'd lost so much already.
"Harry?" Cornelius asked, seeing the troubled look on his face. "Is everything okay? I know this must seem strange to you. If you're uncomfortable…"
"No," Harry interrupted. "It's nothing like that," he said, still thinking about what the right thing to do would be.
"Are you alright, Harry?" Cornelius asked, getting concerned.
"I… what if you could speak to Isabel again?" Harry blurted out.
Cornelius looked at Harry, really looked at him, getting the feeling this wasn't a hypothetical question at all, his confusion giving way to an inkling of hope, wondering if it was truly possible.
"Harry," he asked slowly. "What aren't you telling me?"
"There's a way," Harry admitted. "You can speak to her, but… it could also mean…"
"I could lose her," Cornelius whispered, understanding what Harry was trying to say.
He wanted to ask, his mind exploding with so many questions, but he didn't doubt Harry's words, not for a second. He had seen firsthand the miracles Harry had pulled off.
"Will I get to see her? Talk to her first?" Cornelius asked.
Harry nodded.
"What about after? Is there a chance she could stay, that she will be alright?" Cornelius asked desperately.
"It won't fix her," Harry explained, "just give you the chance to speak with her, but after, if she decides to go—"
"She wouldn't leave me," Cornelius interrupted. "She wouldn't… we promised each other," he said, his voice cracking.
"You need to be sure, Cornelius," Harry advised. "There's no way to make her stay if she doesn't want to."
"Do it," Cornelius decided, his need to see her, to talk to her again, outweighing the risk. "I need to see her again."
Harry nodded, wrapping his fingers around the key as they watched a soft light form around Isabel's body, then a ghostly form sitting up in the bed as Isabel turned to look at them, a smile forming on her face as she looked at her husband for the first time in almost a decade.
"Isabel!" Cornelius shouted joyfully, trying to hug his wife, only to be disappointed when his arms passed through her.
"Cornelius," Isabel said softly. "I didn't know if I would ever lay eyes on you again."
"I never stopped searching," Cornelius said, tears spilling from his eyes. "I never gave up. I knew," he smiled. "I knew there had to be a way to fix you."
Harry watched Cornelius and Isabel talk to each other, feeling like he was intruding on a private moment, but also intrigued by what he was seeing.
Isabel was still alive, her chest still rising and falling. The key shouldn't have worked on the living, but somehow it did in Isabel's case.
"Harry can do what he did again," Cornelius said, looking back at Harry gratefully. "We can talk to each other again. If you're here now, there must be a cure out there somewhere. We'll find it."
"Cornelius," Isabel said, shaking her head sadly. "There is no cure."
"No," Cornelius shook his head. "Don't say that. There are magical advancements all the time. Even old magic that can be rediscovered. You're here, I can talk to you. That's proof you're still in there," he said, taking the hand of his wife's body in his.
"Oh, Cornelius," Isabel said consolingly. She'd had years to come to terms with this moment, but her husband hadn't. "What's broken can't be fixed."
"What do you mean?" Cornelius asked desperately. "Don't say that. Don't give up. We can be together again."
"The spells that hit me, they severed the link between my mind and my body," Isabel explained. "I thought for a long time they would regenerate on their own, but they haven't. It nearly drove me insane being trapped in my own mind until I could finally hear your voice again."
"No," Cornelius said, his voice breaking. "I'm lost without you. Please, please don't give up, not now. We were supposed to have children, a boy and a girl, remember? Going to the beach, watching our children take their first steps. We had it all planned out."
"I know," Isabel said softly, tears rolling down her cheeks. "But it's not a life I can give you, but you can still have those things. Cornelius, I want you to find someone who makes you happy. I want you to love again, to live again. Live the life we never got to have. Be the father you were always meant to be."
"No," Cornelius said hoarsely. "I can't. There's no one else, only you."
"Cornelius, my dear sweet husband," Isabel said, wishing with all her heart she could touch him, just once, but knowing she couldn't. "You need to let me go, please; it's the only way."
"What do you mean?" Cornelius asked, confused.
"There are ties that bind us, things that tether me to this world. The only way I can go is if you let me," Isabel explained.
"No," Cornelius said, shaking his head. "You can't ask that of me… I can't."
"Please, Cornelius," Isabel said, her eyes turning sorrowful. "I can't go back to that existence," she said looking down at her body. "One where I can only hear your words, but can never feel your touch. Where I have to hear about the world passing me by. It's torture."
Cornelius gasped, his resolve cracking at Isabel's words. "Please… I need more time. I'm not ready to let you go. Please don't ask this of me, not now."
"It's time, Cornelius," Isabel said. "You've mourned me for nearly a decade. You need to let me go."
Cornelius nodded, tears streaming down his face as he looked at his wife for the last time, feeling like his heart was being ripped out of his chest, but grateful that this time, he at least got to say goodbye.
"Thank you, Cornelius," Isabel said, standing up from the bed as an ethereal door came into existence.
"Harry," Isabel said, looking at him for the first time. "Thank you for your part in this, and please check in on Cornelius for me from time to time, make sure he is okay," she said, looking back at her husband.
"Of course," Harry replied, his voice soft, wishing there could have been another way.
"Cornelius," Isabel called out as she opened the door, now bathed in white light, a gentle smile on her face. "We'll see each other again, but not for a long time. I want you to live a happy life and know that I will always love you."
Cornelius nodded through his tears. "I love you too."
***
Hi! Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed the new chapter. There is still a lot of fallout for everyone after Hogwarts, and some are handling it better than others. I wanted this chapter to really highlight the aftermath of the battle, and the fact there are going to be long term consequences for what happened.
What did you think about the introduction of Daniela, and Percy's experience through her perspective as well as Harry's reactions to her? I don't want her to come off as antagonistic, just a little inexperienced, so your feedback on her would be greatly appreciated.
Please take the time to review and let me know what you think of the story.
If you would like to support me and my writing, please consider visiting https://taplink.cc/jumpin for all the stories I'm currently working on and early access to chapters 3, 4, 5, and 6 of Legacy of Shadows along with some character portraits for Merlin, Morgan and Nimue, and an audio versions of the chapters.