Chapter Seventy-Five: The Camp Again
There was stillness and there was silence. It was not the thick sort of silence that filled uncomfortable conversations or a sorrowful moment; it was just an absence of sound, simple and ever present. It was not dark, but it was not light either. Everything was neutral, or just complete nothingness.
Lottie grew aware of herself very slowly. She could feel her nose and forehead pressed against the ground and something else too. She could sense sharp, disjointed pain, running throughout her body.
Slowly, very slowly, she moved her hands to feel her own skin. She was certainly there and she couldn’t feel any wounds or bruises, but somehow there was still pain. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to not breathe. Her body ached as she moved, but something else, something that was both a part of her and separated from her at the same time, stung if she didn’t move.
Was this what it was to die, to feel infinite and indescribable pain?
Lottie opened her eyes. The ground she lay on formed before her in a swirling of mist. It transformed to stone, cast in shadow. It hurt to see, but also hurt not to look. She stared at the floor, at the minute details of the scuffed wood for a few moments before planting her hands firmly against it and pushing herself up.
She was naked, and instantly felt the hot embarrassment of being so exposed. Even more instantly, robes appeared seemingly out of nowhere to hide her pale skin.
Lottie looked around. The world created answers as she asked for them. Mists formed into walls and ceilings, tables and armchairs. An entire room appeared before her. Lottie closed her eyes. It hurt to look at it.
She waited for the pain to subside, wishing that it would die away like a cramp. But it didn’t. Something was wrong. Lottie hunched over and fell into an armchair, clutching her center. The pain was everywhere. It felt like her organs had been rearranged, or that she was suddenly aware of a gaping hole inside of her.
She needed something else to survive in this world”something more. Something was missing. Lottie ran a hand over her face as though it were a physical feature that she lacked. Everything seemed to be there. What had she lost?
Lottie opened her eyes again and drank in her surroundings. She sat in an armchair that was in the corner of this dark room. There was a large wooden table to her right. Knicks and scratches lined it and also covered the three wooden chairs that were tucked neatly under it.
There was a window directly across from that where a thin, quiet light filtered in. Beneath that lay a bare mattress, worn and stained with dirt. Another mattress sat beside the first”Lottie knew this instinctively before looking at it.
When she did look toward the mattress, though, she saw another figure sitting on it, watching her with polite interest. Lottie felt a twinge of wracking pain as she saw him. He looked whole, healthy and was clearly not affected by whatever she was feeling.
His eyes were a vibrant green, brighter than any Lottie had seen before. They sat behind thick, round glasses. His face was thin and not very heroic. This was all topped off by a mess of jet black hair that stuck up in every direction.
“Are you all right?” he finally asked.
Lottie winced at the sound of his voice, which created more burning pain inside of her. She didn’t understand how he could stand to be in this place”it made her skin feel like acid.
“What is this place?” Lottie finally asked through gritted teeth.
He turned his gaze to the walls around him, pointedly glancing at everything, but without any sort of recognition. “You know, I couldn’t say. Don’t think I’ve ever been here before. Do you know?”
Still grimacing from pain, Lottie picked her head up and glanced around. She knew this place”knew it better than almost everywhere else. And though it was small, cramped, and abandoned, it made her remember. “Home.”
This was her family’s flat precisely, but”memories flooded back to her now”it had been destroyed”they had been destroyed. She had done it. Lottie turned back to the figure on the mattress”her old bed. She narrowed her eyes. “You’re Harry.”
Instantly, she pressed her lips together. Even speaking hurt. Again, she looked down at herself, searching for whatever it was that could cause this pain.
“Yes.” Harry didn’t stand from the mattress, but frowned at her. “And you’re hurt”why are you hurt? What happened? I didn’t know pain existed in this place.”
Lottie shook her head and clenched her stomach, though the pain was not exactly there. “It feels like I’m missing something,” she said. The words sounded foolish when spoken aloud. “Like a limb”or”or something.”
Harry just watched her. His brow was furrowed with concern, but he was completely helpless. He had no means to do anything.
There was a long pause that Lottie spent breathing sharply. Nothing would help; the pain was constant and steady”ever present and also unidentifiable. She looked up.
“But you’re dead,” she said. “You died”more than fifty years ago.”
Harry turned his gaze to the ground. His smile had melted away. He nodded.
“And I’m dead.” Lottie looked at him, not sure whether she actually wanted him to confirm that.
Harry look up frowning. “But are you?”
Lottie stared at him, her frustrating mounting. “What do you mean, am I? Of course I am. The Dark Lord killed me.”
Harry sat back as though her words had hit him square in the chest. “What did you call him?”
“The Dark Lord?” Lottie repeated. Harry stared at her suspiciously. “What?”
“Only Death Eaters call him that.”
“Since when?” Lottie glanced back at Harry, her eyes full of as much suspicion as his. “We’ve always called him that”you can’t say his name.”
“There’s no reason to be afraid of it,” Harry said. “I’ve always used it.”
“Well you’re just a better person than I am, aren’t you?” Lottie snapped. She glared at him but could not hold her anger with his polite gaze for long.
“You know,” Harry said once she had looked away. “I always thought any direct descendent of Dudley’s would be much rounder.”
Lottie looked up to see Harry smiling, biting on his lip to suppress a laugh. She waited for his grin to shrink away; she didn’t understand what was so funny about that. Finally, she asked, “You think I’m not dead?”
“Not yet.” Harry ran a hand across his chin as he thought. “When Voldemort”” Lottie inhaled sharply at the name. Harry rolled his eyes. “When Voldemort killed me, I came to a place like this.”
“Did it hurt?” Lottie asked hopefully. Maybe this wasn’t permanent”maybe it was just a trial of the freshly dead.
“No.” Harry frowned at her. “It didn’t. It actually took away my pain. I had been injured when I died.”
Lottie looked down at her own hand. They didn’t look injured, but they were wracked with more pain than she could remember. “Then,” she began, “why do I”?”
“I don’t know.” Harry shook his head and shrugged. “But”” He rubbed his palm against his forehead, against a thin scar shaped like a lightning bold. Lottie’s eyes flitted upwards and glanced at it, which Harry ignored.
“But when I died,” he said, resuming his thought, “I came to a place like this. Well it wasn’t”what did you say?”your house? Well”it was my own place, but I had a similar experience.”
“And you were dead, so that means I am too?” Lottie asked.
Harry laughed. To Lottie who hadn’t heard genuine laughter for days, it sounded exceedingly odd. “You’ve been spending too much time with Hermione.”
Lottie frowned at him. She didn’t know whether he knew Hermione was dead or not. She didn’t know whether he would get to see her now that she was dead. She wasn’t even sure whether this was real Harry or just a figment of her own imagination.
“When I came here,” Harry explained, “I wasn’t quite dead yet either. Voldemort had killed me and I came to this place. I had a choice to make”to go back or”well”to die.”
Lottie stood up. Though it wracked every part of her body, she began to walk until she reached the mattress”her old bed. Slowly, she sat down next to her cousin, watching him carefully. “Does everybody have a choice?” she asked. She thought of her parents and then of Andrea. “Or is it just wizards?”
“Actually I think it’s just us.”
Lottie pressed her lips together and looked at him. “I don’t understand. How does that even work?”
Harry pressed his palm to his scar again. It seemed almost like a nervous habit. “When Voldemort was resurrected, he used an extremely Dark potion to do it. He needed”” Harry shut his eyes and thought for a moment “”the flesh or a servant, the bone of his father, and the blood of his enemy.”
“So he took your blood.”
“Yeah.” Harry sat up straighter and looked at her carefully as though trying to see a glimmer of someone else. “My blood carried the sacrifice”my mum’s sacrifice”that made me survive the first time. He thought taking it would make him stronger.”
“And it did.”
“Yeah”well”he also made a mistake.” Harry spoke slowly as though he did not have much practice with speaking. “By taking my blood, he connected us even more. That’s why I came to this place. He had my blood and was keeping me held to life. We both had my mum’s sacrifice.”
“So that’s why you came here?” Lottie said slowly. “It’s not exactly death yet. But you said you had a choice. You said you could have gone back or died. How come you died?”
Harry looked away. He tapped his short fingernails against his arm, frowning. “Well,” he said, “I made a mistake too.”
“So you chose to die.”
“It’s not like it was that simple,” Harry said quickly, turning back to her. “I”I didn’t realize. Everything had gone wrong. I had so far to go”all of the Horcruxes.” He placed a hand on his scar instinctively. “I was young. I didn’t understand.”
Lottie turned away. She didn’t like to watch his struggle. It was mildly uncomfortable to witness any sort of weakness of the famous Harry Potter.
Harry sighed slowly and lowered his hand from his forehead. “But you”you have the same choice to make.” He smiled weakly. “You’ll make the braver choice than I did.”
Lottie looked up. The pain flowered through her entire body. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to make the brave choice. She had been prepared to die”grateful to no longer think and feel. And if she went back, would this pain follow her? She turned to Harry, and to delay the moment of choosing said, “I don’t understand why I’m here. He has your blood”not mine.”
“But you have my blood”well a bit of it.” Harry smiled. “Voldemort’s holding you to life just as he held me.”
“But your mum sacrificed herself for you”not”not me.”
“That doesn’t seem to matter, does it?” Harry smiled. “You’re here and you get to go back. You can destroy him.”
“But my parents,” Lottie pressed on. She wasn’t ready. Despite the pain and fear, she wasn’t ready to go back. “My mum, at least”she was even more related to you than me. Why””
“She’s a Muggle.” Harry shrugged. “It’s not fair”it really isn’t, but it’s just how this works.”
Lottie looked down and just as Harry instinctively held his scar, she pressed a hand to her forearm. She pursed her lips together and raised her eyebrows. Despite all of the pain in her body, the Dark Mark’s usual twinge was noticeably absent. She rolled up her sleeve. Her skin was bare and unmarked. Lottie ran a hand over it and looked up.
“I have to go back, don’t I?”
Harry smiled sadly at his knees. “Well you don’t have to. It’s a choice. That’s the whole point, isn’t it?”
Lottie looked at him quizzically. He looked up and said, “Dumbledore told us how you’ve got to choose between what’s right and what”what is easy.” He paused and pressed his lips together. “I really regret my choice. I don’t know what would’ve been different.” He trailed off and glanced ahead.
“If”if I chose,” Lottie began, “chose to not go back”I’m not saying I will”but if I did, where would I go?” The fear that followed that question was worse than any pain she experienced. She knew what Harry’s answer would be, and knew that it would not help.
“I”I don’t think I can explain.”
Lottie turned to face her knees. She knew he would say that and it did not comfort her at all. She looked back down at her arm, unmarked by Voldemort, free of her shame. She knew she could not stay here.
Here”home”it reminded her of so much. Her childhood in the camp had been relatively happy”as happy as one can be when being treated like cattle. Her parents had loved her. Then, she went to Alsemore, signed her life away to a cause at the age of eleven, and was taken from her family.
Lottie gazed down at her arm. Somewhere in the course of that, she had become a monster”a killer. Pain flooded her at the thought. This was where she had murdered her family. Well, she hadn’t done it, but she didn’t stop it. That was just as bad.
Lottie looked at the room around her. The Mark on her skin was gone, but the place was enough to remind her of everything she had done. The pain was enough of a price to pay.
“Will the Dark Lord be destroyed if I go back?”
Harry didn’t speak for a long time. He placed his elbow on his knee and his head in his hand as he thought. “I can’t be sure,” he said.
“And what”what will happen”to the world there”if I don’t go back?”
Harry looked at her but didn’t say anything. His eyes said it all”all the regret and sorrow he had suffered. He took a breath and let it out slowly.
“I’ve got to go back.” Lottie stood up. Her body protested and was wracked with pain, but she had no other choice. “I”I have to at least try to”to kill him. Right?”
Harry looked up at her and smiled. He didn’t have all the answers, Lottie knew. It was her choice and hers alone. He couldn’t tell her what to do, but Lottie could see the consequences of his choice. “I’ve got to go back,” she said again, more to reassure herself than him.
The world around her began to change. Harry stood up. He was smiling in earnest now as he faced her. Mist was beginning to swallow her home”her old home. Lottie watched, wishing she could have just a bit more time.
“Wait,” she said, for Harry was beginning to be taken by the mist too. “How”how do I do it? How do I destroy him?”
Harry watched her for a moment. The mist wrapped itself around him and took him away from the bottom up. Right before he was completely enveloped, he said, “I think you’ve known that all along.”
Halfway to Infinity by Eponine
Chapter Notes: As always, thank you to the fabulous coolh5000 for beta'ing this chapter!
This one is dedicated to all of my friends and family who have put up with (and continue to put up with) me suddenly running off, getting a pen and paper, and disappearing into my own imaginary world.