“You can pick him up the day after,� says Augusta.

I give her a grateful smile and get up from the sofa. “Thanks, Augusta. Thank you very much.�

“Is Frank still in the kitchen?�

“I think so. He said he wanted a drink.� Pulling on my cloak, I tell her, “We’ll leave now before Neville wakes up. He would not be pleased to see us go without him.�

“He certainly wouldn’t be.�

Before leaving him with Augusta, I kiss Neville lightly on the cheek.

As I walk towards the kitchen, I heave a great sigh of relief. The war is far from over even though Voldemort’s gone. There are still Death Eaters out there, either slithering back into the shadows or trying to revive their cause, and neither Frank nor I can escape it. We are Aurors; we are meant to fight them. The only good thing is that we can now come out of hiding and start living an almost normal life.

And now, we have a day off, Frank and I. I can’t even remember the last time the two of us had a night to ourselves. Most of the time, we were fighting, and when I was pregnant, I was hiding with Augusta, and Frank couldn’t even visit me everyday. Even on those nights we happened to be together, we were too tired to do anything other than crash on the bed. If there was something we talked about, it was the war: how do we track that Death Eater down? What do we do in case we are ambushed?

It was either that, or mourning the death of friends.

Death of friends.

That reminds me of James and Lily.

I try to compose myself before meeting Frank, but he catches me wiping a tear off my cheek.

“What’s wrong?� he asks me, putting down his drink on the table and frowning.

“Nothing.�

I let him put his arms around me, let the warmth of the embrace heal me.

“Alice,� he murmurs. “Darling, we won’t have any of that tonight, okay? Tonight is for us and nothing else.�

“I’m sorry,� I whisper, looking up at him and rubbing his cheek with the back of my hand.

He pulls me in closer and presses his lips against mine. Our kiss starts slow as though we have forgotten how to do it properly. Though it is unbelievably soft, it hurts me inside; there is so much pain hidden in it, so much weight that it carries, so many memories trapped. Blood and blinding agony and tears and screams of anguish.

But then, it picks up speed and vigor, as though we are trying to get rid of those burdens. And maybe, we are. Maybe, this kiss marks the beginning of our release. Maybe, there is nothing more to fear now. Maybe, this kiss is the affirmation of a future that is filled with normalcy and free from the insanity of the past few years.

“Let’s go home,� he says, pressing his forehead against mine, sounding tired and cheerful at the same time.

“It will be all right.�

“Will it?�

“When we get home, Frank,� I tell him, hope blooming in my heart all of a sudden, “there’ll be kisses, kisses with dreams in them. Kisses that come from life, not death.�

He smiles at me, and together, we Disapparate.



***



Hmmm. Mmmmm. Mmmmm. Hmmm.

“Alice,� says the man sitting on the opposite bed. “Alice.�

I smile at him to shut him up. His pale white skin crinkles.

Why is it all white here? All white and icy cold? It’s always white.

Hmmm. Mmmmm. Mmmmm. Hmmm.

My wedding dress was white. The hair that falls on my pillow is white. This is a white place. This place. Not home. Cold, yet so warm because I’ve been here so long, trapped in brief flashes of my story…

My story! Let me tell you my story before it vanishes again. I was tortured. Pain, so much pain, so much pain. Why? Why?

Hmmm. Mmmmm. Mmmmm. Hmmm.

There he is. That boy again. His face … so kind, so knowing. And there is the gum. And this gum is salty. Salty. Not sweet. SALTY.

I wish … I wish …

There is a feeling in me. I can neither say it nor act it, but I feel it when he comes here. His face … so familiar. I think I should touch him but I am scared. He might break. Crumble. Melt like his eyes do when I stare at him. I should give him a part of me. He must know I care.

This wrapper would do. But – but – I should warn him. The gum wasn’t sweet. It was salty. Should warn him even if there isn’t a gum left.

Hmmm. Mmmmm. Mmmmm. Hmmm.

“Alice.�

Left alone with the man again. Always, always. Alice. Alice. Alice.

“Al? Ee? Al-lee? Ees? Allees?�

“Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP! I cannot stand your inanity! Going about some … some … I am not your damned Alice. Leave me alone! Let me enjoy the peace! I have enough to go on with, enough I tell you, you stupid man! Enough! EN-AAARRRGGGH!�

Pain. Pain once again as they pull me away from the man, try to stop me from scratching him. They should shut him up, but it’s me they are after. Me! I never make noise. I never make trouble. But it’s me they grab, me they poke with their stick, me whose neck tingles as the stick does something to my body, me whose nerves jangle with extreme excitement and heat at first then sober up within seconds, defeated and cold and tamed.

And then we are left alone. And I lie down, all curled up among the whiteness. And he reels off the single litany he knows, the one thing that escapes his lips often but only when we are alone. And it makes my brain hurt, a dull thud each time a syllable strikes it.

“When we get home, Alice, then there’ll be kisses, kisses with dreams in them. Kisses that come from life, not death.�

And I want to shut him up so that I can go to sleep. Only … I can’t.

Hmmm. Mmmmm. Mmmmm. Hmmm.