A Reintroduction of Souls
Harry could already feel his hands slicken with sweat, goosebumps riddled his skin, the cage in his heart rattled with desperation. His mind faded into the corner of his mind; the body moved itself. His friends were discussing what kind of spells and creatures they would see in Defense against the Dark Arts class, but their noise collapsed as a loud whine in his ears. Daphne guided Harry into the class when she realized his eyes were staring somewhere far off. “Harry....Harry” her voice whispered in his ear, finally coaxing him back in control. “Harry please, are you alright?” He studied her face, unable to fully recognize her until she placed her hand on his shoulder. “Seriously, are you alright, we can take you to the medical ward.” Harry held the hand on his shoulder before letting it fall away “yeah...I’m alright, just nerves is all.”
“G-good morning e-everyone, I will be your Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Quirrell." The class returned his “good morning” plainly, while Harry focused on steadying his breathing. “I will be p-preparing you to face things in this world that may try to cause you h-harm.” Professor Quirrell had them open their textbooks to the first chapter “An Introduction to Dark Magic” He went on to explain that creatures, artifacts, and spells all played an equally important role in the danger posed against them. Mid-sentence Quirrell’s eyes flashed over Harry. Amid the fog in his mind, Harry felt an overwhelming sense of dread; his scar seared in unbearable pain. The world disappeared instantly. His body crumpled to the floor.
A Glimpse behind the Curtain
Distorted voices circled his mind. He tried to open his eyes, move a limb, make some sort of noise, but his body refused. His frustration boiled under his skin. “I NEED TO GET UP, DAMMIT!” Through his anger, he felt the intrusion of an amorphous mental specter. Once the entity brushed against his inner consciousness, they retreated, and he heard a low, rumbling incantation. “Sto megaleío tis fysis, epistréfo leitourgía” As the last word left the caster’s mouth, his body unlocked and his eyes opened cautiously. “I am sure you have many questions about the circumstance of your current position, and I will gladly answer you once you have gained your bearings.”
Harry slowly reached for his glasses and put them on. Standing at the corner of his bed was a large figure. Their silver-golden hair fell in loose waves down their back, threaded with leaves and small pale flowers that seemed to grow directly from the strands. Their face was unsettlingly beautiful; all sharp lines and sculpted angles, softened only by eyes that held a quiet, ancient gentleness. “W-wha, wh-who are you?” was all Harry could stammer out. The entity moved to the side of his bed and took his face in their hands. Their skin was rough against his, like yielding gravel. His thoughts quieted as the image of the person before him appeared in his mind. “I am Threnody, the afflicted, and this despondence inside you convoked my form to you. You are injured beyond body and mind. Your spirits are painfully transmuted in defiant cooperation in a vessel barely fit to contain them.” Harry could not form thoughts or words, though he felt no malice. He was too intimidated to act against it. “Sas zitó na symvivasteíte.” As they completed their short spell, his eyes grew heavy and sleep claimed him quickly.
Parting of the Veil
The sun bathed his cot in golden light. His glasses sat askew on his face before he fixed them. He sat up with little effort, his body feeling more responsive than it had since his merging. Madame Pomfrey quickly came to his side with a look of uncertainty he could not fully place. “Mr. Potter I’m glad to see you awake and well, but you took a rather nasty fall in class. A scan revealed levels of physical and mental fatigue incredibly abnormal for a student. The headmaster will be down to see you shortly; he requested to see you once you’d recovered enough.” She turned on her heels and went about her duties after looking him over once more. Harry was unsure what to do in the meantime. He stood and stretched, his back sore from lying in bed. The quiet made him feel embarrassingly exposed and alone until he saw the headmaster approaching him.
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“Harry, Harry, we must work on making your days a tad less exciting, please have a seat so we can discuss what has happened.” The headmaster gestured to his cot, while summoning a simple chair near himself. “Now Harry I have a general gist of what’s transpired, but would you tell me your perspective of the situation please?” He knew he wasn’t in trouble or being interrogated, yet his body disagreed as a chill crept up his spine. It took a second before he could find the words to tell Dumbledore what had happened from the beginning of the day until he lost consciousness in DADA class. He spoke uninterrupted, only receiving small nods of acknowledgement. Once he finished relaying everything, the headmaster looked at him contemplatively, letting his words hang in the air. “I see.” Harry searched the old man’s face for a hint of anything, as he felt the same level of exposure when he was alone earlier. “The circumstances of your collapse are not well known currently Harry. Madame Pomfrey expressed her findings of unusual fatigue to be alarming but not life-threatening. Although, I find myself fixated at the moment your scar inflicted unbearable pain upon you. You say it occurred suddenly while you were attempting to steel your nerves from a bout of anxiety?”
Harry became painfully aware of how tight the walls had snuck around him; he racked his brain searching for the best way to respond to Dumbledore. He did not want to be scrutinized for his emotions but knew he could not face everything alone. “Please Harry, I hold nothing but your best interests at heart and I wish to assist you.” Something cracked silently in Harry “That’s all anyone ever cares about, my interests, what about my wellbeing, my circumstances, my PAIN. I’m not the boy who lived! I’m the boy who survived! I feel like I belong nowhere.” The headmaster went to put his hand on the boy’s shoulder, but he winced away reflexively. It was Dumbledore’s turn to be unsure this time. “Harry if you would permit me, I would like to examine you further personally.” Harry stiffly nodded in agreement while the headmaster stood and began casting some protection charms around them.
Dumbledore had Harry lay flat on the ground while he moved his wand in intricate movements while speaking quietly. Harry felt his body getting lighter the more the headmaster spoke. Then he felt a tear, not painful but like a sheet of parchment being torn in two. “Professor, what’s happening? I’m starting to feel odd.” He did not react to the words directed at him, he breathed heavily, movements becoming more sluggish. Harry moved forward as to stop the ritual, but his arms passed through him. He couldn’t believe he’d passed through Dumbledore but realized he’d never stood up, spinning around he saw his physical body still laying fully still, save for breathing. A pool of silvery fluid began to pool around his body, while a sapling of some kind grew out of his mouth. His body’s eyes shot open staring at him, freezing his current form in place.
Dumbledore’s movements stopped suddenly, his eyes found the body’s first, the scene before him leaving him stunned for second. He approached the boy and dipped his fingers into the liquid around him, examining it deeply before producing a phial and storing some within it. The sapling grew tendril-like limbs and began thrashing as he moved closer to inspect it. His hand retreated as the tendrils began to envelope the boy’s body in a wooden cocoon. “Ebrath, sal am Ebrath ent wish lor faenya siilen siilen nha ennamar ston ched, allow tel'quiet grant tel'quiet Al ya in side.” After the sapling seemed to deliberate, it acquiesced access to him. Once allowed Dumbledore put his hand to Harry’s forehead and began to invoke more charms. This time the incorporeal version of him felt the effects. He felt himself become more solid and felt compelled to return to his body. The incantations continued without breaking, and he felt like he was being stitched together to his physical form once more.
