Going Home
It was time. The deadline given to the Ministry to prepare had passed. The equinox was fast approaching. They wanted to have at least a day to rest between the dementors and gathering of souls to go through the doorway and close it. Gringotts had prepared a remote site outside well warded and obscured from prying eyes. Not far from where the dementors were. They were packed with everything except what they needed to get through the rituals and the next couple of days. Letters had been written and their delivery times set. It felt so very final.
Gilriant was as prepared and presentable as he could be. Hair braided back, dressed in Kreacher’s pick, including finery with the gifted circlet resting on his head. The Hallows tucked about his person. Well rested and having refrained from extra dream walking or casting. Reservoirs flush with energy. Songs practiced, instruments polished and tended to.
Harry wanted to do this and knew he could do this. Yet the mixed emotions that swirled and bubbled inside him were anything but calm. Just because he was certain, did not mean he was at peace. This was change, and change was often painful. Which is why many feared it. He couldn’t say he feared it exactly. More worried that he was up to that sort of responsibility.
Now he understood why people might get cold feet at even a joyous event. For once you moved forwards you would be forever changed and there was no going back. In his heart he knew there were so many wonderful and new things out there just waiting for him. So he took a deep breath, and stepped into the circle.
The circle was wide enough to safely contain all that was needed to be within it. Which in part was his own presence plus that of Maglor, and Kreacher as witness and guard. A short distance away both dverger and unspeakables stood as an outer guard. The bard was in the circle with him as Gilriant had the theory that a chosen song practiced and played by both would be more controlled. That it would require less raw strength than just finding one in the moment. He knew what needed to happen here and found a song that he thought fit. Also because the choice held a bit of amusement for him, to combat the depths of what the dementors carried.
Sitting in the center, he looked to Maglor and with a nod they began to play. He on his handpan, and the tall elf on his harp. The lines of the circle lit up. Not white or black to start this time, instead shooting up immediately in the brilliant shining silver. Sunset had been chosen as the time to perform this ritual. Though there was no specific time for death, it was a good time for shadows. The light bathing them all in contrast to the approaching night.
The music started as simply played notes. Yet they quickly became more. Ringing, haunting, hanging in the air. Holding an eerie vibration that was felt as much as heard. Resonating in one’s very soul. Once, then a second time they played through simply instrumental, simply calling. Each round echoing farther and farther afield. Pulling, calling, bringing all dementors everywhere to them. Each turning towards the Call. If they were sufficiently far enough away they simply faded from there and reappeared here. A black host of ragged dark cloaked figures, gathered above the circle. Their very presence is a threat to absorb all warmth and light. Yet they did not.
On the third repetition, the Keeper of Balance began to Sing. Their voice echoing everywhere. For those sensitive enough to hear it, a soothing lullaby. To those it was aimed at, an irresistible call offering comfort and welcome.
Come little children, I'll take thee away,
Into a land of enchantment.
Come little children, The time's come to play,
Here in my garden of shadows.
They were calling them. The Keeper of Balance called them away. Away from forest and glen, castle and dungeon, the greatest of heights and the lowest of lows. Away from the absorption of souls and towards their freedom. The black of their tattered robes siphoning away. Wisps of darkness pulling, swirling, only to be absorbed by the silver light.
Follow sweet children, I'll show thee the way,
Through all the pain and the sorrows.
Weep not poor children, For life is this way,
Murdering beauty and passions.
Life and death were a mix of many things. Of hope and despair. Of love and hatred. Of naivety and cynicism. Sometimes the innocent died, and yes the souls that escaped first drawn out were the innocent. Yet not all. Far from all were innocent. These beings were used as prison guards and executioners. Yet while life was a mix of things, they did not deserve this. They all needed to be returned to the cycle. To the Balance. To the Between.
The Keeper’s voice rang out, the bard’s soothing tones supporting. Power building, spreading, One by one each pitiable being was enfolded in the shining silver light.
Hush now dear children, It must be this way,
To weary of life and deceptions.
Rest now my children, For soon we'll away,
Into the calm and the quiet.
What sight it must be to the guards. Though the sun was setting, the clearing was filled with the shining light. The darkness was clearing away. Wispy balls of light easing free, following the spirals of energy. They shined with all the colors that could be.Gathering together a circling dance of laughter and tears. Above all the sensation of freedom and a yearning for rest.
A dark shadow grew in the middle of the silver light in front of Gilriant. Indistinct hazy edges for Death was not any one thing. Simply a welcoming presence. No single image, aspect, or belief could contain it all. Yet it welcomed all to it. The balls of light started to dive in towards it. Absorbed first one, then another, then a flood spiraling out of the beings that were once dementors.
Outside the circle the shadows lengthened, the sun completely gone from the sky. Sunk well below the horizon so now it was the silver light that cast all the shadows. Leaning away from the shimmering silver light that filled the circle.. All except the shadow in the very center. That one stood tall and straight, bowing to nothing and no one. That shadow welcomes all the souls that sought out peace.
One small bright light broke off from the spiral that swirled towards the center shadow. Instead it came to rest in the Keeper of Balance’s hair. Then a second, a third, a half dozen in total shined there, secured in their own haven. They could not go with Death, not in this place in time. Another place awaited them.
Come little children, I'll take thee away,
Into a land of enchantment.
Come little children, The time's come to play,
Here in my garden of shadows.
The last of the souls settled, now it was time for the tattered beings now made whole. They settled down within the confines of the circle. Bathed in the light and there was a palpable feeling of relief, gratitude, and warmth. What once was cold was now warmth and peace. THe Balance Keeper brought the song to a close, Maglor following their lead. As the last note echoed as one the host of gray-silver beings bowed and then all faded away. The dark shadow at the heart a beat later, and then the shining silver light faded away.
The area was blanked in hushed silence. As if the very earth had been listening and did not yet want to disturb what had been. Then the first of night insects sounded softly. Another joined in, sounds of the night creeping back in. Grounds lit now by the rising of the moon as the sky darkened. Gilriant’s hair softly lit by the fea adorning his head.
Kreacher came up and carefully took the instruments as Maglor moved towards Gilriant, helping him to his feet. Thankfully the preparation meant while the youngling leaned on him a moment, he was able to easily stand without support after. The bard remained there by his side, yet this was not his moment. This one belonged to the Keeper.
Dverger and Unspeakables drew closer and Gilriant turned to look at them. “The corrupted have been purified. Those that they took in their pain and suffering have gone home.” His gaze moved among them all, seeing the respect on their solemn visages. “The day after tomorrow is the day of balance. The Lost ones will be called to me, and returned home. The way will be shut.”
Those gathered intoned. “So mote it be.” They echoed the same salute, fist over heart and bow before dispersing. Two dverger guards remained to watch over the trio. Harry turned towards his companions.
“That went better. I won’t always be able to be that prepared but when I can, it definitely helps.” He smiled at Maglor. “And your music helped bolster mine. I am glad you are with me.” The bard gave him a soft smile in return. “Always hinya, always.”
He turned to Kreacher. “And your support helped as well, thank you.” The small being beamed with pride and bowed low. “It is Kreacher’s privilege to serve young Master Black.“ The house elf held his hands out to both of them. “Home now young Master?”
Taking the hand with a smile he nodded. Pretending to ignore the way Kreacher clamped down hard on Maglor’s hand. The bard seemed more amused than anything else by it. With a quick pop, they were away and then the dverger guards as well. Leaving an empty clearing. The lines of the ritual have vanished and the creatures of the night slowly enter it once again.
****
Gilriant stood in the Room of Stars one last time. The contents emptied into shrunken trunks into the bags Maglor carried. It felt ever so empty, and yet was filled with light. Each shining mote hangs still in the air, out in the open and surrounding him. It was an image Maglor knew that would stay in his memory. A shining star that spoke of one journey’s end, and another’s to begin. The youth looked to Kreacher. “All is ready?”
“Yes Master.” The small being respectfully replied. His gaze moved on to Maglor who inclined his head. They all knew what was to happen next. It was dawn on the day of Balance. Time to call all home.
The soft light gleamed over Gilriant. Hair once more done up in braids, circlet in place. This time dressed in a simple outfit which happened to have one time shrinking charms on them. Just in case. The cloak was draped over his right arm, elder wand held in that hand. In the other is the small rock known as the resurrection stone. Inhaling, the young one closed his eyes and when they opened, silver light shone softly from the Balance Keeper. Then they Sang. Wordlessly at first, just their voice. And then it started to echo and stretch, reaching for any fea that might not rest within this room.
I was listenin' to the ocean
I saw a face in the sand
But when I picked it up
Then it vanished away from my hands, dah
Within the room the colored lights shone brighter than they ever had before. The Balance Keeper held the hand with the stone in it palm up. Silver shining light reached outward from it.
I had a dream, I was seven
Climbin' my way in a tree
I saw a piece of Heaven
Waitin' in patience for me, dah
And I was runnin' far away
Would I run off the world someday?
Nobody knows, nobody knows
And I was dancing in the rain
I felt alive and I can't complain
But no, take me home
Take me home where I belong
I can't take it anymore
Across the moors of Scotland the song echoed. To those that lingered stuck, wanting to release but not knowing how to. The Singer appeared there, not quite solid but still very much there. Song whispering and echoing in the air. In front of an ancient castle, the Keeper shone brightly enough into the range of sight that even the living could see them. Under the abandoned facade, the real castle was just waking for its day. A handful of teachers and students found themselves waking up and moving towards windows or out in the courtyard to witness. The name they knew the Singer by on their lips, it lingered there unspoken. The only thing heard was the Song.
There were souls that lingered there that did not need to remain and they moved towards the Keeper. Not every soul, no. There were ones that should and would remain. Guardians and keepers of the school. They would keep to their post, even as they bid others goodbye with smiles. Those that fell in battle and unsure how to let go. The tired that had existed for so long they didn’t know how or why they were there. Those are the ones that were called.
At the edge of the forbidden forest, those that still dwelled within came to the verge. They too played witness to what was occurring here.
I was painting a picture
The picture was a painting of you
And for a moment I thought you were here
But then again, it wasn't true, dah
And all this time I have been lyin'
Oh, lyin' in secret to myself
I've been putting sorrow on the farthest place on my shelf
La-di-da
And I was runnin' far away
Would I run off the world someday?
Nobody knows, nobody knows
And I was dancing in the rain
I felt alive and I can't complain
The Balance Keeper Sang, and they were everywhere. In the ministry, in the alley, and across the world both magical and mundane. In cities and graveyards. In battlefields and farmlands. Deep in the woods and on the beaches of the world. Only those with magic had even the possibility of seeing them. They came to windows, out to the open and stood witness. Regardless if they could see them or not, the effect was felt, and the world seemed to hold its breath.
It called to the lonely and the lost. To the ones that had forgotten why they ran from Death. It could be resisted of course. It was not a demand, more an invitation. A beacon, to guide the lost home. For those that wanted it, they drew towards the figure. Being absorbed by the stone in the upraised palm. Here and there was one or two that were different and instead rested on a sleeve, on a braid, or elsewhere on the image of their person.
Within the room the stone shone brightly while the fea moved to attach themselves to the Balance Keeper. So many, with more appearing as they settled on the far off images of the Singer
But no, take me home
Take me home where I belong
I got no other place to go
No, take me home
Take me home where I belong
I got no other place to go
No, take me home
Take me home where I belong
I can't take it anymore
But I kept runnin' for a soft place to fall
And I kept runnin' for a soft place to fall
And I kept runnin' for a soft place to fall
And I kept runnin' for a soft place to fall
In the Room of Stars the Keeper while the Keeper kept Singing he took the cloak in his fingertips and swirled it around their form, and that of Maglor and Kreacher. Deep within the Department of Ministries, the image of the Singer flared strongly with shining silver light. When the flare faded those gathered there now had a very solid figure in front of them, along with one tall elf and one small fae of the House. The cloak once again hung folded over one arm.
There were witnesses gathered. Dverger, Unspeakables, some not quite happy looking ministry officials. In one place widely avoided for all except one, a Darkened swirling shadow. Standing next to that shadow quite unafraid was a fey looking blond with a soft smile on her face. Wearing a circlet of her own and gently pointed ears of which radish earrings dangled from. In her arms a subdued feathered creature of reds, orange and golds.
And I was runnin' far away
Would I run off the world someday?
But no, take me home
Take me home where I belong
I got no other place to go
No, take me home
Take me home where I belong
I got no other place to go
No, take me home, home where I belong, no, no
No, take me home, home where I belong, oh, oh, oh
No, take me home, home where I belong, no, no
No, take me home, home where I belong
I can't take it anymore
As the song ended, the reflections of the Singer bowed their head and faded away. As they did so, the air felt a little warmer, lighter. Some of the pain and depression were taken away with them. The world felt a little more at peace.
In front of the Veil, the Keeper turned to face it. A figure that glowed with shining silver light and all the souls settled on their form. Their voice held a hollow echo to it. Not quite human. “Wizards thought this was a powerful wand. They were wrong. It is, and always was, a key. Many wizards empowered it so that it could be used for its true purpose.” Taking gliding steps forward they extended the knobby wand and it flew towards the frame, snapping into place. As it did so the arch shone bright.
Turning towards the darkened shadow the Keeper extended its hand with the brightly lit stone sitting in it. “It was thought this was a resurrection stone. No stone can bring back the dead. But it can help guide the lost and forgotten home.” The rock floated from his hand and was absorbed into the darkened swirling shadow.”
If the witnesses had anything to say about this all happening, the Keeper cared not. Nor paid it any heed. Instead it turned now to the blond figure by the Shadow and bowed deeply. She bowed in return and held out the firebird. “This one is in need of respite and a better soul to keep company. We send him with you, to help nurture the fire in your soul.”
Fawkes let out a soft trill and launched from the blonde’s arms and landed in the Keepers arms. “We will look after each other, shall we friend?” The firebird trilled an agreement and then allowed them to settle him on Maglor’s shoulder.
Turning to the Fae of the House the Keeper gave them a warm smile. “Kreacher, spirit of the House of Black. The oath is held as fulfilled. You have performed your duties with honor. What is your wish for your reward?”
The small being looked up to the Keeper, and then to the Veil and their ears drooped. “I cannot go with you through the Veil. Not as I am now.” There were some widened eyes of wizards in the background at the small being’s now clear manner of speech. Which were soundly ignored as Kreacher turned towards the blonde and the shadow.
“Instead I think I would like to go to the Summerlands. Andromeda Black is worthy to teach and raise the heir to the House of Black. The Stars are going home, so should I.” He turned and smiled up at the Keeper. “One day, perhaps I will find you again. Hopefully by then you will know how to dress yourself.” With a laugh the Balance Keeper bent down and hugged the small being. “I will look for you, you will always have a place with me if you wish.”
After hugging them back Kreacher turned to Maglor. “Keep them safe.” The tall elf inclined his head. “I will. You have served the stars well, and they thank you for it.” A small portion of the lights briefly detached to swirl around the spirit of the House of Black before returning to settle on the Keeper.
The swirling dark shadow and the blonde stepped apart. Between them the air shimmered with warm light. With a smile Kreacher stepped between them and the light flared up brightly. When it faded away the small being was gone. Only a faint smell of grass warmed in the summer sun and flowers remained. Now the dark swirling shadow turned towards the blonde, extending what looked like a shifting ball of glittering snowflakes towards her.
With a laugh that sounded like chiming bells she reached back. By the time the ball reached her cupped hands it had taken the shape of a fluffy sparkly white chick. An Ice Phoenix chick to be more precise. The blonde glided forward again and placed the chick in the Keeper’s arms, where she started trilling happily. “Apparently she was making far too much of a fuss and a pest of herself not to be sent with you. In this form she will help be the balance needed for your fire.”
“Hedwig?” Gilriant asked with awe in his voice. The chick happily trilled at him and he held her close. “Thank you!” A single crystal tear slipped down his face and the blonde deftly caught it.
“As no payment was needed, we thank you for the gift of a tear of joy star-crowned. We will use it well, and look after Kreacher for you.” Reaching he pulled her into a one armed hug which she returned. Then the Keeper released them, stepping back with a bow. “My thanks.” She inclined her head and returned to stand near the swirling shadow.
Carefully keeping the chick cradled in their arms, the Keeper took the cloak and best he could moved to drape across his and Maglor’s shoulders. Together they stepped through the archway. As they did so the light of it reached blinding levels and it collapsed into itself behind them. Until only a shining silver light was left, and that too faded.