Life is But A Dream by Pondering
Row, row, row your boat,
Gently down the stream.
Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily,
Life is but a dream.
VIII: Into the Veil
Monday led Lily out of the house, closing the door behind them. Lily blinked at the sudden darkness of the forest and the overhanging trees. It had been a bright and sunny day when she had arrived at the cabin, hopeful that her husband and his companions would be able to help her. Now she left it, feeling rather more pessimistic.
Was she really ready to take this final leap of faith? Could she be sure that this wasn’t some sort of elaborate joke? The proof had been lying in front of her, in Sirius, James and Peter’s bodies. She knew they were dead—she had attended their funerals. But she could not dispute that they were undeniably alive now.
How did she know that travelling through the veil wouldn’t kill her? She wasn’t afraid to die, not really, but if she was dead she wouldn’t be able to save Harry. She stumbled after Monday, tripping over the twigs littering the ground.
“How does the veil work?” she asked, nearly falling into a tree. She reached for her wand and pulled it out of her pocket. “Lumos!” That was better, now she could actually see where she was going.
Monday looked thoughtful and slowed down a little. “If you pass through the veil you will die.”
Lily flinched. “Gee, thanks.”
Monday shrugged. “There really wasn’t an easy way to put it.”
Lily glared. “I told you, I’m ready to die for my son.”
“As long as you know what you’re getting yourself into. I think we should be able to Apparate from here. Shall we?” She ignited her own wand tip and looked at Lily’s tear-tracked face. “We’ll need to go to the visitor’s entrance, of course.”
“Why?” Lily asked, not keen on having any detours on the way to the Department of Mysteries.
“Well,” Monday said as she cast the light around the forest clearing, “You don’t work at the Ministry.”
Lily felt like she was conversing with a brick wall sometimes when she talked to Monday Lockhart. “Well, yes, I know that,” she said, flustered.
“It’s protocol for visitors to the Ministry to approach using the visitor’s entrance,” Monday informed her smiling.
Taking in a deep breath, Lily looked at the stars, resisting the urge to Apparate to the Ministry straight away. “Damn protocol!” she hissed. “I—”
Monday shook her head. “It would not help Harry to be caught up in matters of bureaucracy now.”
Lily whirled around, so her ignited wand pointed directly at Monday’s eyes. Monday took a step backwards and nearly tripped over a tree root, her eyes squinting in that harsh light. “Watch where you point that thing!” she yelled.
However, the direction Lily’s wand was pointing in did not seem to be an accident. “Don’t you dare try and use Harry to make me do what you want me to do!” she shouted back, her voice louder. The wand shook in her hand, and she was half scared that she was about to lose control.
Monday looked apprehensively at the wand pointed at her face. “I’m trying to help you.”
“Why should you help me? You don’t even know me!” She took a few giant paces away from Monday and tripped over a tree root, falling flat on her face. Monday walked over to her.
“Need a hand?” Monday asked sardonically. Lily grudgingly accepted as she allowed herself to be hauled up by Monday. “See, where would you be without my help?” asked Monday.
Lily glowered. “I was perfectly able to stand up on my own, you know.”
“And yet, you chose not to.”
“But—what—I…” Lily spluttered. “You were offering help!”
“As I am doing now. Without my help you will never transcend the bowels of the Department of Mysteries. What chance will there be of saving your son then?”
Bristling, Lily replied, “But you don’t care, do you? You don’t care that my son is lying tortured…dying somewhere…”
“I don’t care, you’re right,” Monday said agreeably. Lily’s eyebrows shot up at this statement. “But I’m still offering you my help. You know what? I actually care more about the continuity of the timeline than your son, but I think this is the right thing to do.”
“Well,” Lily said, leaning against a creaking tree, “I’m glad that you decided saving someone’s life is the right thing to do.”
Monday looked up at the stars as Lily had done before. “I wonder,” she said softly, so Lily had to strain to hear, “What would happen if we didn’t do anything at all?”
Lily wasn’t quite sure of what she was hearing. “What do you mean? Harry would die, that’s what would happen! I thought we were going!” she said angrily, kicking out at the tree, which creaked and groaned some more. An owl hooted despairingly at Lily as the tree’s branches rattled.
“But you see, what would happen if this...never happened?”
“Why are you wasting time asking questions about hypothetical situations? It did—I mean, it is happening, right now!”
Monday looked at Lily, a slightly anxious look taking hold of her face. “Are you…quite sure that this is happening?”
Lily kicked out at the tree again, and yelled out as she stubbed her toe on the trunk. “Can you stub your toe in dreams?” she asked patronisingly.
“Yes,” Monday replied, “And I think that this is a dream.”
Lily turned on the spot, and Monday had a sinking feeling that she knew what Lily was about to do. “Well, maybe you should try waking up then!” With a crack, Lily Disapparated.
Monday sighed. Things were not going out the way she had planned at all. The more people that travelled into the Realm of Dreams, the more polluted the time-stream was going to get. She wouldn’t be surprised if it the River of Time became so distorted that it was forced to fork off and cause an alternate reality. She wouldn’t be surprised if it had already. Time-travel was meant to only be used in a controlled environment, it was not meant to be used as a tool to corrupt the way the universe worked. She needed this reality to dry out, so when she returned to the Realm there was no more water running in this stream. And she also needed to get rid of the veil. It had stood in the Ministry of Magic for centuries, unable to be removed, and no-one had figured out its mysteries any better than she had—apart from her mother.
The problem with the Veil, Monday mused, is that there were only limited chances. The whole dying thing wasn’t particularly pleasant either and it wasn’t a very logical place. It was hard to tell exactly what moment you would turn up in and where your body would be at that time. Her mother had been trying to develop a way that the Realm of Dreams could be accessed on the side of the Living, without the unnecessary sacrifice of death. However, it had soon been revealed that the only way to enter the Realm of Dreams on the Living side was to dream your way there, which was very uncontrolled and there was a miniscule chance of being able to enter time. Not that it had stopped her mother from trying—and dying.
The mystery of the Realm had intrigued Monday too for many years, and she too had died for it. It was looking quite likely that the only way to travel in the Realm of Dreams was to pass through the Veil. She had died trying to use some experimental charm which she was almost certain would allow her to enter the Realm. It did, except that she was on the side of the dead. Fear of wasting her chances kept her confined to the riverbank, as did fear of water. She had not lied to Sirius, but she wondered if he would ever know that the person she had seen drown when she had only been twelve was him…
After what must have been five or six years trapped in the Realm, she had drawn to the conclusion that those who said time was not to be tampered with were right, as no matter how horrible reality could be, creating a paradox was much worse. A big enough paradox could hypothetically end the world, which was a scary thought.
Sighing as she cast her wand light around the abandoned clearing once more, she thought that she’d better follow Mrs Potter to the Department of Mysteries. It was possible that Lily would try to force her way in before Monday arrived there and having Lily thrown into Azkaban for attempted trespass could be detrimental to her son’s wellbeing. Whirling around on the spot, she Apparated to the Ministry of Magic.
She opened her eyes and tried to regain her balance—Apparation never agreed with her—she looked around for Lily. She did not have to look very far, as she saw Lily hand her wand to the watchwizard for examining. He had finished his testing and had handed the wand back to Lily by the time Monday reached her.
“Good evening, Eddie,” she said, casting a glance out the enchanted window. “Why is there sun streaming in?” she asked, staring at a ray that illuminated the floor.
Eddie shrugged. “Magical Maintenance must have received a pay rise. I wish I could get a pay rise.” He sighed, absent-mindedly stroking his Secrecy Sensor. “I suppose you’re escorting Mrs Potter down to the Department of Mysteries?” he asked, his eyebrows knotting together. “That’s what she told me.”
“Yes, I will be doing just that,” Monday confirmed for him as she and Lily began to walk away.
“See you tomorrow then, Mrs Lockhart,” Eddie called out.
“Yes, I suppose I will,” Monday replied, knowing that in her heart seeing anything of the Ministry of Magic would be very unlikely indeed.
“So, where do we go from here?” Lily asked, eyes roaming around. She had not been to the Ministry at night time very often, and the quiet frightened her.
“The Department of Mysteries, of course,” Monday answered, motioning at Lily to follow her into the elevator. Monday pressed a button, but Lily did not see what it was. Instead, Lily stared blankly at the wall while they began their descent downwards into the bowels of the Ministry. A few half hearted memos flittered around. Lily guessed there were still people working late tonight.
“Department of Mysteries, Level Nine,” the smooth, amplified voice filled the elevator.
“Let’s go,” Monday said as she and Lily stepped out in the elevator. They passed the outer door and Lily was starting to have the unsettling feeling of dread creep into her heart. She hated the spinning room and—the room spun, disallowing her from finishing her thought. Monday kept her wand out, seemingly keeping track of the directions in which the doors rotated. “In here,” she motioned, holding the door open for Lily, who was feeling a bit nauseous. She didn’t feel as if her nausea could be fully attributed to the spinning room either.
They seemed to be on top of a large number of steps; Lily had never seen this room before. The stairs led to a central viewing area. “Is this it?” Lily asked, her knees starting to shake beneath her. She hoped that they did not give way now. Monday nodded and they walked together to the dais. A crumbling archway stood there and an seemingly innocent curtain fluttered. Lily looked around, frowning. “There’s no breeze.”
Monday didn’t say a thing, but reached out a tentative hand towards the material. When it came too close, she drew her hand back quickly. Looking back up to Lily, who seemed to be shaking all over, she asked again, “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Positive,” Lily said determinedly. As she gazed at the veil, an almost frenzied look came up in her eyes.
“Are you sure that you don’t want to wait for James and Sirius to catch up?” Monday asked, not certain why she was trying to dissuade Lily from entering the veil, although altering the streams of time seemed like a very good reason.
“They’ll catch up, won’t they?” Lily said stubbornly. “If they go back to the same time as us, we’ll meet up in the past, wouldn’t we?”
Monday looked contemplative as her eyes roamed around the steps. “There may be a small problem with that,” she admitted.
“Which is?” Lily asked, not liking this hitch in the plan.
“Well, the time-travel is not very exact. It’s not like using a time-turner where a specific number of turns brings you back to a certain point. When you are on the stream, you can’t tell what year it is you’re next to. It’s very much an estimate.”
Lily closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. When she opened them again, she fought to keep her voice calm. “Estimate or not, I know I will regret it greatly if I never try.”
Monday smiled sadly. “I’d thought you’d say that.”
“What are we waiting for?” Lily queried, an impatient tone now creeping into her voice.
Monday’s eyes remained fixed to the door. “Well, you’re not waiting for anyone. I’m waiting for James.”
“What?” Lily said, shocked. “But I thought you were going to help me! How will I find my way in this…thing,” her eyes viewed the veil in distaste, “if you are not going to guide me through it?”
“I’ll come to help you,” Monday promised, “Eventually. But I have to wait for him as I have to stop him from helping—I—I just thought of something…if James tries to go through the veil, he will die.” In response to the questioning looking she received from Lily, she amended, “He will not be able to use the stream, he will…move on.”
Lily’s eyes widened. “But…what happened to the three chances? Do you only receive them if you originally die by passing through the veil?” Lily shuddered at the word die, not knowing if she was going to do what she was about to do, but knowing that she would have to do it anyway.
“Essentially, yes, that is correct,” Monday said, confirming Lily’s thoughts. “You can go on ahead if you’d like, the Realm is a strange and confusing place and by the time that you orient yourself we’ll have caught up.
“Is it as disorientating as the spinning room?” Lily asked, referring to the first room that lead to the Department of Mysteries.
Monday tried to smile reassuringly, but her facial muscles only managed to rearrange themselves in a grimace. “Oh no. It’s much worse. Are you very sure that you want do this?”
Looking at the floor, Lily nodded. “I have to do this. For Harry’s sake—otherwise, who knows what would happen?”
Thankfully, Monday managed to resist the temptation to point some things out to Lily. If everything worked out well this evening, she would manage to ascertain that this situation never happened at all and that this branch of the stream could dry out forever. “I understand,” Monday told Lily, but she didn’t—not really. This world, for all its familiarity, still seemed strange and foreign. It was as if she was watching a memory in a Pensieve, she did not feel involved in the action at all. For other people—she stole a guilty look at Lily—this was the real world, and people like Monday were nutters, but it was just so strange…so weird.
It just made her feel more opposed to the changing of time. But this would be her only chance to fix things, for now at the very least. She’d be able to clean up the mess that Sirius Black had left behind, but she couldn’t stop other people from falling in the veil. If only she could destroy the veil! But that wouldn’t help much. Not only was she in an altered timeline, destroying the veil would not destroy the Realm. She could only hope that if anyone else slipped behind the curtain that they would not be able to find their way around the stream and become trapped in the Realm forever, much in the way that Severus Snape had been. Of course, in Snape’s case it was not permanent because in the right time-line Snape would not have died in 1981.
“Can I go?” Lily asked, wishing that her heart would stop thumping dreadfully loud in her chest.
Monday held up her empty hands. “Go ahead; I’m not going to stop you.”
Turning her head to give Monday one last thankful look, Lily shut her eyes. For what could have been a few seconds, or a few minutes she simply stood in front of the archway, willing her limbs to let her to walk through. It all seemed so deceiving; she couldn’t believe that she would not re-emerge on the other side. Her head spun painfully and she wondered why she felt disoriented, she hadn’t even gone through the veil yet.
The veil. It fluttered tauntingly, seemingly out of her reach. But she knew that just one small step would have her plunging into a place that she could have never imagined. Hoping—praying—that she was doing the right thing, Lily walked into the veil.