Falling
The wine flowed smoothly down his throat. Harry had grown a liking to muggle red wine over the years. He had tried many of the popular Wizarding alcohol before, but none of them were to his liking. Firewhiskey had far too much cinnamon, and all the elf-made whine he’s tried were too sweet and left a strong aftertaste.
Harry didn’t know when he started drinking, only that he had done so even more frequently after the buzz of Voldemort’s defeat had finally blown over and he had more than enough time to just sit and think. Harry was by no means an alcoholic, he just liked to indulge a bit ever so often. Ginny was out of the house, having gone on vacation with the rest of the Weasleys. Harry had gotten an invitation but he had politely turned it down. He loved them, no doubt, but he definitely needed some time to himself.
It had been four years since Voldemort’s defeat, four years since Harry had really done anything impactful in his life. He had lost a lot in the war, Remus was dead, and Fred too. Harry had mourned them, along with the many others who had lost their lives in exchange for defending Hogwarts from the dark lord’s forces.
Life was peaceful, for the most part. Still, Harry felt something was off. He felt something was wrong , like a large puzzle with a piece missing in the center. Yes, he could certainly live without ever finding that small, insignificant piece, but the full picture would never be complete. There would always be something missing . His subconscious constantly clawed at his mind, yelling at him to find it, to figure out what exactly was not adding up. Harry finished up the last of his wine. He was going to find that piece.
What was it that he had forgotten? What was so important tha-
Oh
His weird dream-memory things. He had been so caught up in war and all of the post-war events that he had completely forgotten about them. He had gotten one or two of them during his sixth year but that was it. He had yet to tell any of his friends about them, not even his own wife. Has it really been that long?
That was the missing piece. He had yet to figure out what exactly he had been dreaming about, or who that blonde boy had been. Yes, now would be a good time to start. Harry was bored out of his mind at home anyway. But how? Where would he even begin? The boy had gone to Hogwarts with young Tom Riddle, hadn’t he? He could probably get his hands on Hogwarts’ student records and start from there. However, he can’t just waltz into Hogwarts without any prior notice. What would he even say to Mcgonagal anyway? Harry pocketed his wand and made his way to his next best bet, the ministry. Surely the ministry had a copy of such records?
He had surprisingly easy access to the ministry, being the saviour of the wizarding world and everything, even though it had already been four years. The new minister had practically bent over backwards trying to cater to Harry’s every need, offering everything from new business proposals to employment opportunities. Harry had ignored all of those and politely requested a list of Hogwarts’ student records, for uh… educational purposes. Okay so he lied to the minister saying Mcgonagal sent him to get the records, so what? Technically it was for learning so he wasn’t technically a lie. The minister, bless his dumb heart, didn’t even request any proof and happily went to collect whatever Harry needed.
Now, he stood in the ministry’s atrium, beside the lifts. His eyes wandered, then they were glued to a list engraved in gold next to a lift, a newly -somewhat- added list which depicted each floor and department in the building. His eyes burned a hole into the text beside the words ‘level nine’. The name ‘Department of Mysteries’ shone back at him, glittering gold and taunting him.
That department brought nothing but dreadful memories. It was where he had stupidly risked all his friends’ lives, where he had gotten his godfather killed, all because he was too weak and naive.
Harry didn’t know what had possessed him but his body moved on its own and before he knew it, he had gotten into the lift and was now standing in front of the department’s daunting double doors. He pushed them open -the ministry certainly lacked security measures in certain areas- and walked in.
The moment Harry passed those double doors, the room seemed to expand infinitely, oh the wonders of magic. The shelves and shelves of various magical items stretched to the high ceiling and seemed as far as the eye could see. The place was ominous and unnerving, but the silence of the empty department and the soft luminescence from the thousands of magical objects and prophecies gave the place a strange serenity. The only other source of light was the soft blue glow from the multiple candles lined along polished black wall tiles.
Harry’s stomach churned in unease as his mind forced him to recall unsavoury memories. He hesitated for just a moment before walking further into the darkness, his surroundings shrouded in shadows, soft echoes following his every step.
Harry walked aimlessly but slowed down when the sudden stillness and drop in temperature in the air sent shivers down his spine. A feeling of unease engulfed his being as he could see the looming figure of an ancient-looking stone archway from his spot in the shadows. A tattered black curtain hung on the archway fluttering and gently swaying despite the total lack of wind.
Harry recognised the cracked and crumbling stone structure, aware of the permanent consequence of falling through the veil. Yet, there was something about the veil. Something captivating, mesmerising, that drew Harry towards the ominous structure.
His heart pounded as he got closer, all the blood rushing to his head. Harry could hear, faint but clear as day at the same time, the inaudible whispering of the dead the closer he got. The longer he stood there, the more entranced he became, all rational thoughts drowned out by deafening whispers in his ears.
Harry climbed the dais and reached out to touch, to feel. The pull of the veil numbed all his senses as he stepped closer. Harry felt like he was floating yet he could also feel himself falling, falling and falling…
“-na, Ana, darling please.”
Please? Was somebody talking to him? He couldn’t really hear anything over the rushing blood in his ears.
‘Ana please, keep your eyes open please I know you can do it. The aurors are coming soon.”
Aurors? Why would he need the aurors? Who was talking to him again? Whoever it was they really wanted him to keep his eyes open, so he tried his best to do so. Suddenly, he went from feeling nothing to feeling everything at once.
He could feel it. He could feel the rough dirt beneath him, the grime and sweat sticking to his forehead, the blood flowing from what seemed like every part of his body. He could feel the excruciating pain stabbing at him. He could feel the warmth of somebody’s hand on the side of his face. He looked up, the darkness of whatever alley he was in enveloped his sight. He looked to his side, locking eyes with the owner of the hand gently caressing his cheek.
Tom? Tom was here. Why was Tom here? Why were any of them here? They were supposed to be studying for their N.E.W.Ts. Tom should be studying, his friend was brilliant and shouldn’t be wasting his time here.
He had to tell Tom to go back and study, he opened his mouth but nothing came out. Everything hurt so much. He was so tired, so…very… tired …
“ No! Come on, please, you have to keep your eyes open!”
Why was Tom yelling? Why didn’t Tom let him sleep? That wasn’t very fair. It hurt to breathe and he was sure a good rest would fix everything. His mind was much too foggy to think much longer anyway. He felt like he was floating yet he could also feel himself falling, falling and falling…
He could just tell Tom to study once he woke up later anyway.