Chapter Six “ Journey
Albus Potter gazed into the deep golden eyes of a pristine unicorn, and for a moment, his heart stopped beating in wonder and terror.
The exquisite creature moved toward him, long legs moving gracefully, flank muscles rippling with strength. The unicorn’s coat was glossy white, with a luminous sheen that seemed to move the very air around it when it shook its long mane. A single horn dipped toward Albus in acknowledgment, and when the unicorn raised its head again, Albus felt his heart began to beat once more.
“Greetings, Albus Severus Potter.” The unicorn’s mouth did not appear to move, and yet the deep, layered voice was clearly coming from the magical creature in front of him. Albus did not know how to respond and merely nodded; he imagined the look on his face must be one of surprise and shock.
The unicorn tossed back its head and made a sound like a laugh. “It is okay, young one. I am not here to harm you.”
“You’re my guide,” said Albus, not sure whether he was asking a question or making a statement.
“I am,” replied the unicorn. “Although, if this form makes you uncomfortable, I can take another.”
“You can?” Albus felt his eyes widen as his Ravenclaw curiosity got the better of him, and he wondered what shape the unicorn might take.
To his continued amazement, the unicorn blurred into the shape of a man: Aldred Dumbledore, the Unspeakable who had brought him there. “Of course, Albus,” it said, speaking with Dumbledore’s voice. “This is the Realm of Possibilities”anything is possible.”
Dumbledore became his cousin, Rose Weasley. “At least for me, as I have been summoned to lead you on this journey. You will have to maintain your own form, I am afraid.”
Rose morphed into his father, green eyes filled with the same worry and concern that Albus had seen at home. “Come, let us begin, so that we may explore your future paths and put your troubles behind you.”
Albus was stunned silent for a moment as he gazed at his father. Guilt and shame bubbled up within him: guilt for the attack, shame for what he had put his father through. He shook his head and looked away. “Not him. Please.”
His father raised an eyebrow, but nodded in acknowledgment. “Of course. What about this form?” Albus felt his heart stop again as his father slowly became the form of his lost partner, Marcum.
“No!” he cried and turned his back, even though he desperately wanted to reach out to the figure in front of him. His experience with the Stone, however, had taught him that he could not bring the dead back to life, and he did not want a shape-shifting unicorn taking Marcum’s place.
“I apologize, Albus Potter,” said the voice of the unicorn. Albus turned back and found the golden eyes of the unicorn filled with liquid sympathy. “I did not realize I would cause you such pain, given your strong desire to see him again.” The unicorn lowered its head and touched him with its horn. Albus felt the stinging grief in his body slowly flow away, though a lingering sadness still remained. He nodded in thanks, but did not speak.
“I will remain with this form, then,” continued the creature. “Now, are you ready for this journey?”
Albus closed his eyes; once more he was being asked to choose, and once more he questioned whether or not he was ready. Now that he was literally looking his future in the face, he wondered whether he could accept what he might see, for good or for bad. Memories of the last months”searching in the forest, the confrontation with his father, his final meeting with Marcum, and the endless days and nights since he had been released from St. Mungo’s”spurred him forward, and he made his decision: he would continue.
“Yes, I am,” he replied.
“Then walk with me,” the unicorn commanded, and turning, he lead the way toward a path Albus had not noticed before. Of course, he thought. I hadn’t cast the spell yet. The unicorn neighed in confirmation.
The path led down the cliffside; it was not steep, but wandered lazily toward an unseen destination. It took several turns and appeared much longer than Albus would have guessed when he had first entered the room. He immediately recognized the symbolism: the future took many twists and turns as the path stretched forward, unseen, before you.
“You have suffered a terrible loss,” the unicorn said as they walked. “You have not only lost someone who was very important to you, but a part of yourself as well. You have forgotten your way and do not know how to continue forward.”
Albus frowned, because the unicorn was simply stating the obvious; hearing it out loud did not make it suddenly easier to move on with his life and begin the healing process he knew he needed. His family had said the same thing many times, and yet he had found himself in darker and darker places as he struggled forward.
“Do not get angry, Albus Potter,” said the unicorn, turning its golden eyes on him once more. “I am not here to encourage anger and bitterness, but acceptance and understanding. Closing your mind now will only limit the possibilities we are able to explore.”
“I know,” Albus grumbled, embarrassed at being chastised for his thoughts; he should have realized that they would have been fully available to his guide if the magic in the room were truly able to show him his future.
Albus continued to walk silently next to the unicorn, ashamed and apprehensive and curious all at once. As they came around the first bend in the path, he was surprised to see a clearing to his left where a single house stood: his parents’ house. It was as if he had walked onto the set of one of the Muggle movies he sometimes watched with his father. It was almost unreal, seeing the house where he grew up on a mountainside deep within the Department of Mysteries.
Unsure what to do, Albus looked to his guide. The unicorn nudged him forward, toward the house, but stayed behind as Albus made his way to the door and entered, uncertain what he might find . . .
“I’m fine, James. Don’t worry.”
Albus stood in his room, gazing out the window into the backyard. His back was stiff and his hands were balled into fists at his sides. James sighed as he moved closer.
“I am worried, and so are Mum and Dad. You’ve been home for months, and yet you’ve hardly left the house. You need to go out. Let’s go to a Quidditch match, or to the Burrow and pick on Hugo a bit””
“I said no, James,” Albus snapped, rounding on him, his face red with anger. “I’m not interested.”
“You’re not interested in anything!” James exclaimed. “I thought you might be better after the Department of Mysteries, but nothing’s changed. You’re still so angry.”
Albus gave him a cold stare. “I’m sorry if that offends you, but I have every right to be angry.”
“Aren’t you tired of it?” James asked matter-of-factly. “Can’t you feel it poisoning you? All you do is snap at us”I feel like I hardly know you these days!”
“Maybe you don’t,” replied Albus. “Please leave. I don’t need your help again.”
“Al””
“Get out!” shouted Albus, and with a flick of the wand he whipped out of his robes, he sent James through the door and into the hallway, and slammed the door behind him. He did not see the look of anguish on his brother’s face . . .
Albus left the house and thought about what he had just seen: a future in which he had returned from the Department of Mysteries still unable to deal with his pain and anger. He readily understood how it might happen; he felt the anger close to the surface and carried the same worry of it taking over every day. Having now seen it from afar”and having witnessed the pain he caused his brother”he knew he did not want to leave carrying the burden of that anger with him anymore.
“It’s your choice,” the unicorn said. “Would you like to see what else may await you? Simply continue forward if you do not wish to live that life.”
Albus nodded and continued down the path. He was silent as he walked, thinking about what other possibilities his future might hold. The next clearing appeared on their left again and surprised him even more: the dark buildings and shady doorways of Knockturn Alley. He had visited it often enough to recognize the Hag’s Rest. He saw several wizards exit the pub, including himself. He was only a few years older this time . . .
"Back off, Malfoy!" hissed Albus, pushing the man away. "I did what you wanted, now leave me alone."
Scorpius Malfoy raised an elegant eyebrow and smirked. "You think torturing a few Muggles again makes you one of us? Grow up, Potter”we need more. I wanted them dead.”
“I can’t,” whispered Albus, shaking his head and backing away. There were several wizards behind him who stopped his retreat, laughing. Albus looked frightened and pale in the shadowy light reflecting off the dirty windows of the alley.
“Then you are nothing but a liar and a coward.” Malfoy strode forward until he was face to face with Albus. “You know what you believe, what you feel: let go of your fear! Once you do, the possibilities are endless! Think what you could do!”
Malfoy trailed one long finger down Albus’s cheek before turning abruptly. “Bring him in!”
Two masked wizards appeared, dragging a semi-conscious man between them. One of them grabbed the man roughly by his dark hair, and Albus was not surprised to see it was one of the thugs who had killed Marcum three years ago. He glanced blankly around the circle, until his eyes came to rest on Albus and widened in shock.
“Do it,” murmured Scorpius into his ear. “Take his life. He deserves it. He’s lived too long as it is.”
Albus drew his wand, but hesitated.
“For Marcum,” hissed Malfoy. “For us.”
Albus took a deep breath and raised his wand . . .
Albus didn’t stop to see what his future self would do; he feared he would be sick if he did. He remembered too well his trips to Knockturn Alley and how easy it had been to be lured into that life, how hard it had been to turn away. Only the Hallows had saved him, and only by replacing one obsession with another. Having failed to find what he sought with the Resurrection Stone, Albus knew it was possible he might return Knockturn Alley to fill the void. It was not, however, something he wanted, now that he had witnessed how far it might take him.
Grimly determined not to become the person he had just seen, Albus continued down the path without waiting for his guide. He was not surprised when he turned another corner to come upon a third clearing on the right. There was no house he knew, but a small cottage surrounded by a well-kept garden. Two people were walking out toward the front gate: his sister Lily, and an older version of himself . . .
“Al,” said Lily, “I think you should come. Everyone wants to see you. You can’t keep saying no every time someone gets married or has a baby. We miss you”you’re family. Please come.”
Albus shook his head as he walked her to the end of the sidewalk. His face was several years older and infinitely sadder. “I’m sorry, Lily. I just don’t feel up to it. Give Hugo my congratulations. I’ll see the baby another time.”
Lily shook her head and stomped her foot, much as she had when she was younger. “Al, you haven’t been to a family party in years! It’s not the same without you.”
Albus smiled sadly. “I don’t see why, since you’ve had years to get used to it. I’m happier here.”
“You don’t look like it,” she stated bluntly. “You look terrible.”
“It’s my work.”
“It’s depression,” she replied.
With a shrug, Albus just turned and walked away; he had given up arguing with his family years ago. “You sound like Rose. Tell her I said ‘Hi’ and give the twins a kiss for me.”
He heard Lily sigh as she left the yard and Apparated to the Burrow for yet another Weasley gathering . . .
The vision left Albus saddened: though he recognized the person he had become in the vision, he did not wish to isolate himself from others and become that lonely man living by himself. His family had stood by him for over a year, and he could not let them down now by pushing them away forever.
Was this truly his future? A life of bitterness, of hatred, of loneliness? How could it be that there was nothing to look forward to, no hope? Had he truly become so lost, that he had so little to live for?
A part of him suddenly wanted to outrun the unicorn, leave behind this awful trip into a future full of darkness and depression. Yet abruptly he stopped and whirled on the magical beast, who gazed back at him with placid eyes.
“Why are you showing me this?” he demanded. “It’s terrible”all of it! I don’t want to live that life”I’d be better off having finished it in the cemetery!”
The unicorn continued walking, pausing only to turn its head and motion him forward. “I am only showing you what is possible, not what will be. You know you carry a great anger within you. It is what shapes you most right now: your anger. Until you accept that anger and understand its source, the path will show you only those futures.”
Albus stopped in his tracks, stunned. What he had felt as guilt and shame was indeed a great anger; yet he was not angry with the killers or with Marcum”he was angry with himself. He blamed himself for everything that had happened: for initiating a relationship with Marcum, for walking home that night, for drawing his wand, for failing to protect his partner, and failing to get him to St. Mungo’s fast enough. He was even more angry with himself for all that he had done since. His anger fueled his guilt, and his guilt fueled his shame.
And yet . . . it wasn’t his fault that Marcum had died. He had only chosen how to respond to it, and he could change that.
The realization hit him like a spell, and he could only attribute the sudden, clear understanding as a side effect of the room, or perhaps the subtle inspiration of his guide. With this insight came not the flood of relief he would have expected, but a slowly spreading feeling of wholeness. It was as if he had purged the darkest part of himself by accepting the cause of his anger.
“Simple and yet not so simple,” nodded the unicorn. “Come, your heart may lead you down other paths now.”
The unicorn turned and began taking a new path that had mysteriously appeared to the right. Albus shook his head in wonder and followed. He found himself wondering what he might see after such an important shift in thought. He hoped it was something worth living for; yet he already felt so much lighter that whatever he saw, he knew it wouldn’t hold him back in the past now.
They passed a large boulder, and Albus stopped to watch a new scene unfold around the corner. He didn’t appear much older, for there was a still a lingering sadness in his eyes . . .
Albus walked through the atrium at the Ministry of Magic, his step steady, and his shoulders straight. He stayed focused as he walked, nodding to the various witches and wizards who welcomed him, uncomfortable with their reception even though he was glad to be back. When he came to the guard at the entrance, he smiled and handed over his wand.
“Welcome back, Al,” said the guard. “It’s been a while.”
“It really has, Jack,” replied Al, gripping hands with him. “Almost a year. It’s good to see you. How are things here?”
Jack laughed as he waved Albus through the golden gates. “Same as usual, although the break-ins have started again. You may see extra security around, especially toward closing time.”
Albus nodded. “I’ll make sure I clock out on time, then,” he said and continued toward the lifts that would take him to his former office on the third floor. He felt lighter for the friendly exchange and bounced on his heels in anticipation as he waited.
The lift he entered was half full of Aurors, none of whom he recognized. It had been a year, after all, and he would probably meet new faces in his own department as well. He nodded to them as he pressed the button for his floor. A tall, dark-haired man with clear blue eyes smiled in return, and Albus couldn’t help but feel a small spark of excitement as their eyes connected . . .
The thought of returning to work was daunting; he had left his job when his obsession with the Resurrection Stone had become all consuming, and he feared what people might say when he came back. He had also worked with Marcum at the Ministry and knew it would be difficult to return alone. Yet this future showed him that it was not only possible, but that he could do it with grace and perhaps find joy in it once again.
He continued walking, his spirits continuing to improve. He stopped abruptly as he turned a corner and came upon a scene that stopped his heart . . .
“Dad!” cried a small boy with messy blond hair. He was standing behind a tree at the Burrow with his eyes covered. “Come and find me!”
Albus stood not far away, next to a familiar-looking man with dark hair and clear blue eyes. They were talking with Rose Weasley as the bustle of a Weasley gathering swirled around them. He excused himself from the conversation and set out after the young boy. “Here I come, ready or not!”
“You too, Dad!” cried the child, and the dark-haired man with blue eyes laughed and joined the hunt with Albus. Together they snuck up on either side of the tree and grabbed the boy in a bear hug, filled with tickles and giggles.
“We found you!” Albus exclaimed, setting him down. “See if Uncle Hugo can find you this time.” The boy ran off calling for his uncle, and Albus and his partner returned to their conversation with Rose.
“He’s doing so well,” observed Rose with a smile. “You guys are doing a great job.”
“We’re very lucky,” replied the dark-haired man, putting his arm around Albus’s shoulder. “He’s just a great kid, plain and simple.”
“I still can’t believe he was in a Muggle orphanage,” she continued. “I can’t imagine a wizard growing up like that. I’m so glad Kingsley was able to arrange things for you. You two are perfect dads.”
They watched the young boy chasing his uncle and were happy to agree . . .
It was the last thing he would have expected: a future in which he had not only found love and companionship, but a family as well. Albus had never even considered the idea of becoming a parent; it was both shocking and terrifying. Yet the young boy from his vision instantly grabbed his heart, and Albus knew deep down it was right”it was his future. He could do it, he could be a father, and he would do so with the dark-haired man whose blue eyes were clear, so unlike Marcum’s deep brown ones.
The unicorn neighed and shook his mane, as if it felt Albus’s growing joy at the possibilities his future might bring. A growing confidence filled him, though even as he recognized his burgeoning hope, he felt a touch of guilt for betraying the memory of Marcum. Was it right for him to move on, to live a life full of love and happiness without the man he thought he would be spending it with? How could he replace Marcum and move on with someone else? Could he live with himself if he did?
As he doubted himself, the path turned left and opened onto a field. It was the field where Marcum was buried, and a large gathering of mostly red-haired figures were huddled together under the oak tree. Albus looked curiously to the unicorn, who nudged him forward.
As Albus neared his family, he saw a second grave next to Marcum’s. They were not much older than they were when he had begun his journey, and an air of sorrow surrounded the sad group. His mother laid a white lily upon the new grave before turning to his father’s embrace. Albus’s heart stopped in his throat and he stumbled slightly; he knew who lay there next to Marcum and could not go any closer.
“What happened?” he demanded of the unicorn. “I just saw a future where I returned to work, met someone, had children. How is that possible if I die so soon?” He was shaking; he did not want to die, to cause his family the pain and heartache he was now witnessing. He turned his back on the scene, refusing to watch his own funeral.
The unicorn touched him with its horn, and once again Albus felt its calming affect. They moved away from the scene, and the unicorn spoke. “Your uncertainty revealed another path to explore. You need not see it through; you control your thoughts, and your thoughts control your destiny. Cast out your doubts, and you cast away the possibility of that particular life.”
Albus nodded. It made sense, and yet it was so hard: he clung to those doubts as if clinging to a lifeboat in a sea of uncertainty. He hesitated because he did not want to forget Marcum; his guilt kept him tethered to memories of the past he did not want to dishonor or lose to a new life.
What had seemed so simple just moments ago was once again far more complicated. Albus sighed, his blossoming hope clouded by endless emotions he could not sort or settle. He began to fear his trip to the Realm of Possibility had been for naught.
“I do not believe it was for nothing,” the unicorn said, reading his thoughts. “You have seen a future you do not wish you live, as well as one you can. You leave the Realm with the knowledge of how your choices and actions will affect the course of your life.”
“Leave?” asked Albus, confused. He glanced around and saw that somehow they had made their way back to the top of the cliff from which they had begun their journey. He had not felt any uphill ascent, and knew the magic of the room must be at work once more. As he glanced out at the magnificent view one last time, he saw stars dotting the dark sky. Behind him, the cliff wall shimmered to reveal the doors leading to the Department of Mysteries, as well as whatever future his choices would bring.
“Our time is over, Albus Potter. I have enjoyed traveling with you. I believe your future is in good hands.” The unicorn bent one knee to him, and Albus nodded his head in wordless thanks. He did not feel the creature’s confidence, but would not betray his disappointment in a more concrete resolution to his troubles. He turned to leave, his steps reluctant.
“You will find your way,” the unicorn said softly. “The path is before you, you have but to follow your heart.”
Albus felt a crooked smile on his lips as he passed through the doors. It sounded so cliché, yet he recognized a great truth in what the unicorn said. Indeed, he felt a certain freedom with the words: perhaps he should follow his heart, his feelings, his instinct. He did not need to think and analyze every decision he made to see where it would take him; perhaps he should have faith that it would lead him where he was meant to go, because the more he thought about things, the more confusing they became.
As the doors shut behind him, Albus placed a hand on them and said a silent thank-you. He turned and was surprised to see that he was not in the Time Room, where he had entered the Realm, but rather in a long corridor, dark and silent. He expected it was another part of the magic of the room, that the entrance was the exit as well, and set off down the corridor in search of James, Sarah, or Aldred Dumbledore.
He found them in a room full of brains, deep in a discussion that stopped abruptly when he entered.
“Al!” exclaimed Sarah, turning with a smile on her face. “That was quick. Is everything okay?”
Albus felt as if he had been gone for hours, and looked quizzically at Aldred Dumbledore. The Unspeakable smiled and nodded.
“You feel as if you’ve been gone far longer than you really have?” When Albus nodded, he continued. “Yes, it is the magic of the room. It has been less than an hour since we left you, though you might feel otherwise.”
Albus just nodded silently once more as he glanced around the strange room, his mind full.
James came up and touched his shoulder. “You okay?” he asked, his eyes full of concern.
“I’m okay,” Albus replied. “What’s this place?”
“It is the Brain Room,” answered Dumbledore. “I believe your uncle had a bit of an adventure here.”
“This is where Uncle Ron was attacked by thoughts,” James said, looking around in wonder. “More family history.”
Albus turned and gazed directly at his brother when he heard the word ‘family.’ Something clicked: he wanted to go home, he wanted to apologize and be with them and move on. He did not want to hurt them anymore, whether with his anger or his sadness. “I’m ready to go,” he said, and he heard the resolution in his voice.
James smiled and clapped him on the back. Albus was surprised to see the depth of emotion in his eyes. “Great. Let’s go.”
Dumbledore led them back into the corridor. “I sense the Realm showed you a great many things,” he offered as they made their way back to the entrance. “I hope that whatever you saw has helped you on your way.”
They came to a grey door and stopped. Albus took Dumbledore’s hand and shook it warmly. “It has indeed. Thank you very much. You’ve helped me in more ways than you could know.”
Dumbledore smiled, his eyes warm with understanding. “I am glad, then. Be safe, and be well.” He shook hands with James, nodded to Sarah, and left them alone.
Sarah threw her arms around Albus, hugging him tightly. “I’m so happy for you, Al,” she whispered. “Thank you for coming, it means a lot to James.”
“Thank you,” he whispered back, kissing her on the cheek. “I know you took a risk to bring me here, and I appreciate what you’ve done for me and my family.”
She nodded, eyes bright. Giving James a quick kiss on the cheek, she indicated the door in front of them. “This will take you back to the entrance room. Simply tell the room you wish to leave, and the door to the exit will open. You can Apparate home directly from there.”
James nodded. “Thank you,” he said and opened the door. The room was dark, lit only by the same blue light Albus remembered from when they had arrived.
“Oh, and remember”we’ve had some break-ins,” she warned. “Don’t go exploring, and don’t leave by the Atrium. I’d hate to have you picked up for trespassing after-hours and have to explain that to the Aurors on duty tonight.”
“We’ll be okay,” James said. “See you tomorrow.” He motioned Albus into the entrance room. The door immediately shut behind them, and the room began to spin. Albus tried to concentrate on the exit, willing the room to show him the correct door.
When the room stopped, he placed his hand on the door to his right, but hesitated. Something pulled at him, a whispering in the back of his mind that he hadn’t heard when they had first arrived. He glanced at James, who simply shrugged, as mystified as he was by the Department of Mysteries.
He pushed open the door to the left instead, not thinking, just following his heart.
He was looking down into a cavernous chamber. It was lined with stone benches that wound their way around the rectangular space. The room was dark except for a dim light shining on a dais set at the bottom of the benches. There was large stone archway on the dais, with a tattered black curtain fluttering oddly in the cold, still air.
The whispering grew louder.
Albus stepped out onto the topmost bench, a feeling of nervous wonder stopping his breath. James stood beside him, and Albus could feel his brother’s fear and uncertainty.
“This is where Sirius Black died,” murmured James. “We shouldn’t be here. Let’s go.” He turned to go back into the revolving room, but Albus did not follow.
“Wait,” said Albus, still staring downward. “Can’t you hear them? There’s no one here, but they are whispering . . .” He let his voice trail off as he began to work his way down toward the dais. James grabbed at his arm, his eyes wide.
“Al! There are no voices. This isn’t safe”the Ministry doesn’t know we’re here, they might think we’re breaking in! Let’s go,” he repeated. His voice was strained, and Albus frowned.
“You don’t hear them? I’m sure they are coming from that archway. Come on.” He shook off his brother and continued down the steps. He sensed James behind him, following reluctantly. When he came to the dais, he stopped and stared. The black curtain was mesmerizing, and the whispering grew more intense.
With slow steps, he made his way up the dais toward the archway. James stayed behind, as if guarding his brother’s private moment. The archway was large and crumbling, and a deep sense of otherworldly magic emanated from the stones themselves. Almost reverently Albus touched the cold rock, spellbound by the whispering that fluttered around him.
“It’s the veil,” he breathed. “The veil between life and death.”
The spell was abruptly broken by a loud shout from the top of the room. Albus turned at the harsh sound behind him, momentarily confused. A wizard from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement stood at the top of the stone steps, his wand drawn as he slowly made his way down.
“Back away from there,” barked the wizard on the steps. Albus looked at James, who gave him a small nod. Albus sighed and turned back to the archway, a sudden longing to step through the veil and join Marcum filling his heart.
“I said, move it!” shouted the wizard, who was now at the bottom of the dais with his wand pointing straight at Albus.
Albus glared at him and snapped, “When I’m ready, git!” He put his hands in his pockets, thinking about drawing his wand; the wizard accosting them shouted again.
“Everything okay in there?” asked a second Auror from the top of the stairs. He had dark hair and clear blue eyes.
James would remember what happened next for the rest of his life: Albus turned, another hot retort on his tongue, but gasped when he saw the second Auror and pointed. The wizard accosting them slashed through the air, no doubt thinking Albus was about to attack, and sent a stream of red light at Albus.
Albus was Stunned on the shoulder and should have fallen to the floor unconscious, but as he fell his body twisted, and his arm slipped through the veil.
“NO!” screamed James as he raced toward his brother. It was as if Albus were falling in slow motion: his arm crossed the invisible barrier between life and death, and his body followed, until he had disappeared through the veil.
Gone forever.
* * *
Lost by Gmariam
Chapter Endnotes: What can I say? This is where the story has led me from the beginning, it just took me a bit longer to get there. Many thanks to my alpha reader laceymoibella, who encouraged me to continue and made many wonderful points. This story will conclude in the next chapter. My thanks for reading and reviewing.