Chapter Text
The flush of green light. And then darkness. Harry slowly blinks. Wondering... Did he survive? No. No, he knows he didn't. Did he? Confusion washes over him. He hears voices. Other voices. But... Were they death eaters? No. No, they aren't. These are... These are calmer. He... He blinks his eyes as he looks about. Wondering just where... where was he?
He begins to get flashes of memories that aren't his but are. A man standing with two others. A castle being built. The father holding his son. A mother holding her daughter. Each one of these flashes hits him like memories, but they're all so blurry. Were they his?
And then the tiredness hits him. Like a sucker punch to the gut. Was he always this tired? It didn't make sense to him. How could he be this tired? This is more tiredness than he's ever felt. He ends up taking a few steps as he looks about for somewhere to sit. And he finds that a younger looking woman. He doesn't know how old she is. And sits down right in front of her.
Harry looks up at the woman that he has just sat down from. A Middle Eastern woman wearing her hijab in a delicate shade of pink smiles at him from that of her wing back chair. She tells him, "You're welcome to sit as long as you like and process as long as you need."
Harry looks at her, studying her. He feels really nothing coming off her, so he asks, "Are you mundane?"
The woman knows instantly what he means and gives him a nod, and gives him a nod. "Yes, I am, and you are magical."
“I'm Siedah,” she tells him, “and you are Harry.” says with a reassuring smile. Harry nods tightly at her. “Harry, can I ask you a question?” Siedah asks him. Harry gives her a look as if she can, a look he perfected when Hermione was busting to ask something. “Why are you here in the mundane line? Most magical’s prefer to go to that of their own sections.”
Harry stays quiet for a while before speaking. “I don't like Magical’s”. He tells her. “Nearly everyone I met, including that of the Muggleborns” he says with an eye roll. “Well, apart from Hermione and Luna really. Are all so full of themselves. Thinking magic is the most important thing in the world.” He says, getting slightly choked up. “But it's not. It's a burden is what it is.” He says with tears in his eyes. He looks her in the eye and asks her, "Do you know how I died?"
Siedah didn't say anything for a while. “I don't,” she tells him. “But if you let me look at your file, I can do.” Harry gives her a nod, and she touches his file, and slightly tears up. "I'm sorry," she says. "You shouldn't have to. It wasn't your job to do so."
Harry lets out a dry chuckle. “Wasn't my job. Yes, I was groomed for it. I was groomed to be a child soldier. It's all I've ever known. I was turned into what I was, and I shouldn't have had to have been.” Tears begin to well up in his eyes. Real, true tears. “I walked to my own death after seeing my friends, people I thought were my family... dead. And I... all I could do was what I was bred to do. I may not have been bred to be a weapon, but sure as hell what I was.”
“And in my final moments,” he gestures with his hand pointing towards himself. “I was going to give up. I was going to stop fighting. I was going to…” [Heavy breathing] “I was going to let him win. But no, I didn't. I fought at the end. Fought with everything I had.” Harry raises his voice, “And I still lost. Yeah, I was able to take down a few of his main people, a few of his inner circle. But at the end, I still died. I don't even know what happened at the end. I don't know who all lived, I don't know who died. I don't know what happened.”
Harry had to allow himself to calm down as he felt himself getting agitated. He takes a few deep breaths before speaking again. “So what happens next?” He asked, wanting to get this over and done with.
"I'm here to help guide you through your options for the afterlife. If you're ready?" She asks him and he gives her a nod, a very tired nod. "Well, your options are varied as the beliefs of humanity. There are a few, shall we say, umbrella beliefs. Christianity, for example, and all their different offshoots and adaptations."
"Now, I know most magical’s like yourself. I generally, em pagan. Is that the case with you?" She asks him, and Harry shakes his head.
"No, I'm it's not. I'm not really religious. Never really saw a point to it." he tells her, "whilst I do believe in Lady Hecate, she who gives us magic, I don't follow the religion."
“Would you be open to universal judgment?” she asks, “Universal judgment which is based on no specific faith or creed, but leads to the same basic result as everything else.” She pauses for a moment. “The realms of paradise don't even have particular faith attached to them, and souls who reside there have their own unique paradises.” She pauses, smiling softly. “It's easier to see that to have it explained. But does this make sense so far?”
Harry pauses for a moment, to allow so taken. “Yes, it does. I would like to go through universal judgment, please.”
She beams at him. “Very well. I can tell that you're not cruel from the quick from the quick glimpses I've got from your file. You will probably end with a paradise. And if not, possibly a bit of therapy.”
Harry nods as the two stand-up, and she leads him to that of the universal judgment. They walk in relative silence, as Harry sees different souls about the place, talking to others, some arguing, he can probably tell where why they are arguing. As they get to that of the gates of where universal judgment is held, which is nothing but that of a grey void. Harry turns to her and says, “thank you. I know it... I know I probably didn't give the best first impression, but thank you for this.” Before stepping through.
***
Harry didn't expect to see his life play out in front of him. Seeing his mother and father holding him, Sirius laughing as Harry flown around the room in this tiny little practice room as if he was just made to be in the air. He sees Remus, cautiously off to the side as always, a shifty Peter Pettigrew.
He sees that night, Tom Riddle breaking into their house, His father yelling for them to run, His mother's sacrifice. He sees Sirius cradling him as Hagrid forcefully takes him, and tells Sirius to go after Pettigrew on Dumbledore's orders.
He sees him being left at that of the Dursley's. The pain he went through being there, and then the light that was Hogwarts. His best friend Hermione, and then that treacherous coward Ronald. He sees the twins, the Quidditch team. Everything he holds dear. Meeting Luna in second year, forming a somewhat friendship with that of Draco in during the whole second year and then sort of been added to their friend group, if not hidden behind closed doors.
He sees everything he has done for Hogwarts, and the scorn that he got from when they did not fill that role for him. When he wasn't the hero, he was the pariah. He sees Umbridge and everything that she did to him. Proving the way through that of the sixth year helping Dumbledore for some reason, he feels like he shouldn't have helped him. He does not know even know why he did so. And then... and then the year on the run. It's just him and Hermione after Coward Ronald left. And then the final battle. As he sees the bright light, he wonders where he'll end up.
***
As Harry opens his eyes slowly. He hears the sound of crackling, and he looks around. To find himself that of a wooden cabin. Just a single room. A fire, a stone section with a fireplace. Roaring with that of would heat that fills the room. He sees one single door and a handful of windows. Looking out the windows he sees that of a snowy landscape and that of a forest. Himself perfectly alone. His quiet place. His happy place. He chuckles to himself. As he moves over to that of a couch with that of a fur blanket on it. And he takes a seat, letting out one long breath he did not know he was holding. Closing his eyes, he smiles whispers. I got a paradise. Before dozing off.