Nothing Can Bring Back the Dead

Only a week had passed since Harry first found the ring in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, but to Harry it felt much longer.

The days all blurred together, and while he still attended all his classes and Quidditch practice as he always did, he wasn’t really living in the moment. He went through the motions well enough, but internally there was only one thing on his mind.

Two things, technically. His mum and dad.

“Oi, Potter! Are you paying attention?”

Harry jerked back to reality, clutching his broomstick handle. Several feet away Oliver Wood hovered on his own broom, glaring at him.

“Yeah!” Harry called back hastily, making a sharp turn and resuming his search for the snitch. They were in the middle of practice, not a real game, which was lucky because Harry, for the life of him, could not focus.

The cool breeze on his face and in his hair, took him back to all the times he spent flying with his parents. He wished it were James and Lily flying around him, rather than Oliver Wood and the rest of the team.

Only a little while longer and it will be, he realized as he glanced at the orange glow of the setting sun.

Harry now spent every second of his life waiting for the night, when he would have a chance to put the ring back on.

XXX

After Quidditch practice, Harry practically ran back to the Gryffindor common room. He couldn’t wait to see his parents again, even if it did mean suffering Tom’s company.

Usually, upon seeing Harry, Tom went to brood in the corner for the duration of the visit. Even still, Harry always felt a twinge of irritation upon seeing Tom getting along with his parents for that initial, brief moment.

Harry climbed through the portrait hole and tried to make a beeline for his dorm, but his path was intercepted by Ron and Hermione.

Harry tried to hide his disappointment. “Hi,” he greeted. “I think I’m just going to check in for the night. I'm pretty tired - Quidditch practice and all that.”

“Are you sure you aren’t planning on going into the ring?” Hermione crossed her arms, addressing him with a raised eyebrow.

Harry thought she had an awful resemblance to Professor McGonagall whenever she caught someone doing wrong.

“Alright, yeah, I want to go in the ring.” Harry shrugged like it didn’t matter, like his heart wasn't racing just at the thought of it.

Hermione and Ron shared a loaded glance that made Harry frown.

“Harry,” Hermione started slowly. “Ron and I are worried that-”

“Don’t drag me into it!” Ron put his hands up.

Hermione shot him a betrayed look. “Fine! I’m worried that you’re becoming rather obsessed with the ring!”

Harry could not believe what he was hearing. “I’m not obsessed!”

“You go inside it every night!” Hermione stressed the word ‘every.’ “It can't be healthy!”

“Ron writes fan mail to the Chudley Cannons every night, but you don't seem to have a problem with that!”

“I said, don't drag me into it!” Ron repeated, heatedly.

By this point, the three of them had raised their voices enough that those surrounding them had noticed, most notably Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil who sat giggling at them.

“Can we talk about this somewhere else?” Harry asked, pointedly.

They were reluctant to put off the conversation, but still agreed. Harry led the way up the stairs to the boy’s dormitory, which - luckily - was empty for the time being.

Harry sat on the edge of his bed, warily facing Ron and Hermione who remained standing.

“What?” Harry asked when the silence lingered for too long.

“What about the ring is so great?” Hermione asked, crossing her arms expectantly.

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but found that he didn’t know what to say. He had no reasonable excuse, nothing that they would believe.

The idea of telling them the truth made his chest tighten terribly. His parents were something he wanted to keep to himself, a wonderful, comforting secret. He already had to deal with Tom trying to steal them, he couldn’t bear the thought of more!

But Ron and Hermione weren’t anything like Tom Riddle, he realized, as he noticed their expressions betrayed nothing but the honest desire to look out for him. They were his friends, and didn’t he owe them the truth?

“I see my-” He coughed, a strange sense of embarrassment welling up inside. He lowered his voice. “I see my parents.”

Ron’s eyebrows shot up. Hermione’s mouth fell open.

“Oh,” she said, softly. “Oh, Harry. You know that…nothing can bring back the dead.”

Harry didn’t like her pitying tone. He scowled. “I know,” he said. “It’s not so different than the Mirror of Erised was last year. I know they aren’t really alive, it’s just something…cool to see.”

Uttering the words out loud, he wasn’t sure the way he downplayed the situation convinced them.

“But didn’t Dumbledore say the Mirror was dangerous?” Ron asked, tentative. “Why is this any different?”

“I’m being careful,” Harry said. “Honest, I am. It’s not like I’m spending all my time inside the thing, I’m not missing classes or anything. It’s just one visit a night.”

Harry felt pleased by this line of defense that he came up with on the spot. Hermione and Ron must've thought his reasoning was, well, reasonable, because they both visibly relaxed.

“I’m still going to do some research on it,” Hermione said. Harry knew he couldn’t convince her not to do this if he tried, so he nodded. Satisfied, she turned and left the dormitory, presumably heading straight for the library.

Ron’s eyes met his, and though they didn’t speak a word, both their meanings were clear. Harry wanted to go inside the ring now, and Ron needed to give him privacy. Just a beat after Hermione, he too left the room.

First the relief washed over him, causing him to release a sigh, shoulders relaxing. Then the excitement hit him, like a volt of electricity, causing him to scramble for the ring as quickly as he could.

XXX

The Ring World was…different.

That much became obvious immediately upon setting foot in the bedroom. For one thing, the walls, which just yesterday were painted in an elegant red, were now a deep green. For another, paintings and decorations had sprung up around the room, all depictions of either snakes or skulls. And most prominently, in the center of the room, was the addition of a long, elegant table, where Lily, James, and Tom all sat.

None of this was part of Harry’s most desired fantasy. And he had a feeling he knew exactly whose fantasy it was.

“Harry!” Lily noticed him the moment he arrived, standing to greet him at once.

“Hi…Mum,” he said, adding the ‘Mum’ part a beat later, the word still unfamiliar on his lips.

“We’re having dinner,” Lily said, gesturing to the empty plate in front of her. “Well, we’re about to. We were waiting for you.”

“Were you?” Harry asked, feeling very pleased at the thought. They waited for him. Sure, they were talking to Tom, but they waited for him. That had to mean something special.

Harry slid into the seat across from his parents. Unfortunately, this also meant sitting next to Tom. One look at the boy told Harry that he was just as unhappy with the arrangement.

Shouldn’t Tom be standing off in a corner by now? He usually didn’t stay around once Harry arrived.

“Oh, and Harry,” Lily said, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “I thought it would be nice - well we thought it would be nice-”

She glanced at James, who grinned in agreement.

“If we do things a little differently tonight.”

Harry couldn’t help the stir of suspicion in the back of his mind. “Different, how?”

“We thought it would be nice if we include Tom in our family!” Lily beamed as if this were an excellent idea and not at all causing Harry distress. “I feel so awful about ignoring him while we have our own fun, and well, Tom doesn’t exactly have a family of his own. I think he would make a great addition to the Potter family, don’t you?”

The very idea made Harry’s stomach roll with nausea. He threw a glare to his right at the Slytherin in question, but Tom was staring determinately in front of him, not making eye contact with anyone, expression indiscernible.

“Doesn’t that sound great?” Lily asked so earnestly that Harry forced himself into returning her smile, though it came out closer to a grimace.

“Er, yeah,” he managed. “Great.”

Lily's answering beam made Harry's lie almost worth it.

Almost.

"Well with that settled, could you make us dinner now, Tom? I'm starved," James said, rubbing his stomach.

Tom, his face still stony and expressionless, waved his hand. At once, an incredible number plates overflowing with food appeared on the table. There were more options than perhaps even the feasts at Hogwarts, but Harry's attention drifted immediately to the treacle tart.

Harry breathed in deeply, taking in the aroma of the magnificent feast. His mouth watered, and he didn't waste a minute before shoveling treacle tart into his mouth. His eyes fluttered shut, relishing the taste. He supposed not even Tom Riddle could ruin treacle tart for him.

"This is wonderful, Tom!" James gushed. Harry glanced to the side just in time to watch Tom preen under the praise.

Mood souring, Harry's nose wrinkled at the sight. He put his fork down, no longer hungry. Never mind. Maybe Tom could ruin treacle tart.

“Isn’t this lovely? All of us together, for a real family meal?” Lily asked.

“Lovely,” Harry repeated, his gaze wandering once more to Tom, who was poking at his potatoes with a fork.

Tom must’ve felt Harry’s stare, because slowly he set down his fork and faced him. “What’s the matter, Harry? I noticed you staring. Perhaps you would like my potatoes?”

“No, they’re yours,” Harry said. Then, spitefully, he added. “I wouldn’t try to steal something of yours.”

Tom squinted at him, no doubt catching onto the double meaning. “Please, I insist.” He pushed the plate towards him. “I’m not one to get so very jealous over these things.”

Harry flushed. He grit his teeth together. “Well, I wouldn’t blame you if you were. After all, it’s your first time having potatoes, ever. It would only make sense if you wanted to have some alone time with them!”

He shoved the plate back to Tom, hard.

Lily and James watched their exchange with growing alarm, turning their heads back and forth so rapidly that it must’ve hurt their necks.

“No one can own potatoes, Harry. And if they happen to prefer the company of one of us over the other, well that’s hardly anyone's fault.”

Harry clenched his fists tightly in his lap. If Tom spoke one more word, Harry didn’t think he would be able to resist the temptation to punch his big nose.

“Are we still talking about potatoes?” James broke the tension, a quite bewildered expression on his face.

“Boys,” Lily said, chidingly, before crossing to the other side of the table and standing beside them. “I promise there are plenty potatoes to go around.”

In the most motherly fashion, Lily took a knife and cut Tom's potatoes into small, bite sized pieces. Then, tenderly, she divided the pieces evenly across Harry and Tom’s plates.

The action was so simple, so mundane. And yet, seeing the food on his plate, perfectly cut by his own mother for the first time in his life, made Harry’s eyes burn. He blinked fast, lest Tom saw this moment of weakness.

“Thanks…Mum,” Harry said, looking over his shoulder at the woman.

She smiled at him - something she had done a hundred times since meeting her - and just like all those times, it sent a warm current through Harry’s chest. Only now, more so than ever before, the sensation felt nearly overwhelming. Distracting. Harry’s head spun with lightness, and all thoughts of Tom and potatoes and anger drifted away until they were distant, abstract concepts.

Harry wasn’t quite sure how it happened - he seemed to have lost some time, but one second he was in his chair and the next he was being enveloped in her arms.

James stood close too, periodically ruffling Harry’s hair.

“Isn’t this perfect?” James asked.

“Yes,” Harry replied easily. Everything was so easy…

“What could be better than this?” Lily asked, tapping a finger to his nose.

“Nothing,” Harry murmured, dazed. The comfort of his mother combined with the safety of his father gave him the strangest idea that he could actually fall asleep in their arms.

“Perfect, perfect, perfect,” Lily whispered. Or perhaps it was James. Their voices blended together, both indistinguishable representations of pure love.

Harry’s head relaxed against his mother’s shoulder, his eyelids growing heavier and heavier.

But then, just before he succumbed to sleep, his mother asked a question that jolted him to alertness.

“What about the other boy?”

Harry straightened and opened his eyes. Tom, predictably, still sat at the table, hunched in on himself and regarding them with a dark, bitter expression.

Lily opened her arms, widening her embrace as if to show that there was room for Tom too.

Harry, however, held the strong belief that there was not. He tried to send this message Tom’s way, solely with a scowl.

“Come here, Tom,” Lily called, her voice so soothing that it wiped away Harry’s scowl at once, so effective that he couldn’t even recall what he was angry about.

Tom wasn’t as affected. He made a show of rolling his eyes and scoffing, like he thought himself so above them all. Harry thought he understood why Tom felt this way. Afterall, Tom was much older than Harry, not a twelve-year-old boy, but sixteen, nearly an adult by wizarding standards.

But Lily persisted. She abandoned Harry, heading straight towards the Slytherin. Her absence caused a physical chill, his chest growing icy. Luckily, James was there to minimize the feeling by placing a hand on his shoulder. Still, it didn’t quite stop Harry from clawing a hand over his heart and watching Tom with burning jealousy.

Tom didn’t smile as Lily approached, his face locked into some sort of distant, wary frown. But Harry didn’t miss the way his throat bobbed, indicating emotions brewing under the surface.

“Remember what we talked about?” Lily asked, reaching out and brushing her fingers through Tom’s perfect curls. The contact made Tom's frown deepen, though he didn't lean away. “You don’t have to be so unhappy all the time. It could be perfect, forever.”

Forever. That word made Harry uneasy, though he couldn’t quite remember why. Something about…Ginny, yes. Her face came clearly to his mind, even in the midst of all this unbearable warmth. He turned to James, a question on his tongue, but then he ruffled his hair again, effectively wiping it away.

“Why fight it?” Lily went on, voice sweet as can be. "Why fight a forever of perfection?"

“Because you…” Tom hissed in frustration. With his hair now messed up, and his eyes flickering back from Lily to James, he had the exact resemblance of a mad man. A desperate man. Torn between what he wants and what he fears. “This is a trick.”

A trick? Out of everything said that night, it is those words that got through to Harry the most. Could it be? His friends were certainly suspicious of the ring, and Dumbledore would be too, had he known about it.

But these were his parents. They would never do anything to hurt him. Tom didn’t know anything.

When Lily reeled back, hurt by the accusation, it only solidified Harry’s trust in her.

“A trick?” she echoed. “Well, if that’s how you feel.”

She stepped away from Tom, and Harry knew just by looking at him that he too felt the icy absence in his chest.

“Wait, don't leave-” The words escaped Tom without his intention. Color filled his pale complexion, particularly around his neck and ears. Harry never saw Tom more open in his expression before - embarrassed and vulnerable. For all Tom frowned and scowled and rolled his eyes, he too was a boy who wanted to be held and treasured and loved.

He wanted all the same things Harry did. Harry wasn’t sure why it took him so long to realize this fact.

Lily smiled gently, unsurprised by Tom’s reaction. She merely grasped his hands in hers and pulled him to his feet, leading him back towards Harry.

Harry and Tom met eyes and quickly averted them, the moment too personal to share with each other. This wasn’t between Harry and Tom. It was between Harry and Harry’s parents, and Tom and Harry’s parents.

Together, and yet apart, Harry and Tom were embraced by Lily and James. It wasn’t hard to forget the boy at his shoulder when faced with the complete love of both his parents. Warm and full, Harry never wanted to leave.

XXX

It was impossible to know how much time passed. Harry thought he must’ve fallen asleep and woken back up several times, never leaving that warmth.

“This never has to end,” Lily murmured eventually.

The concept enthralled him. “It doesn’t?”

“Of course not,” James agreed.

“But-” Harry pulled away to see both of their faces. “But how? I can’t stay here forever I have…”

Why couldn’t he stay here forever? Harry was sure he had a very good reason before. But now it all seemed so irrelevant, pale in comparison to this.

Next to him, Tom was equally invested in this offer, an intense greed written all over his face.

“You wouldn’t have to stay here,” Lily explained. “But you’d stay with us. Outside of the ring.”

“Outside of the…” His heart fluttered at the idea. But there was a reason why this wasn't possible on the tip of his tongue, nagging at him. Then it hit him. “But nothing brings back the dead.”

Lily and James laughed. Harry didn’t think he said anything funny.

“That is very true, Harry,” James said.

“Then how-”

“When I said you can stay with us, that is not exactly what I meant,” Lily finished.

It took Harry several long seconds for her meaning to sink in. When it did he physically jerked away from them, as if their warm touch burned him.

“What?” he gasped. A sharp, panicky feeling jostled around inside him. “Do you mean that I - that I should - die?”

Distantly, Harry noticed Tom come to his senses too. His dreamy, clouded-over look in his eyes fell away, leaving something hard and suspicious in its place.

Tom backed away without a word, slipping into the background of the room. Lily watched him go, but then turned to Harry.

“Harry, please, listen,” Lily said, reaching for his hands. Harry pulled away. “I know it sounds harsh, but that's just because you aren't used to the idea.”

“The living hate the idea of death,” James added.

“Exactly. But in reality, death is the greatest thing to happen to a person. You've heard of the afterlife, right?”

Harry had, of course. He wasn’t religious - the Dursleys never taught him any religion - but he always enjoyed the idea of life after death. “I know what it means,” he said.

“It's just like regular life, except without all the bad. Everything is perfect. No pain, no worries-”

“No Snape,” James said.

“Why wouldn’t you want to join us there?”

Harry thought about it. A life without any suffering did sound wonderful. He wouldn’t have to deal with any of his worldly problems. He wouldn’t have to worry about going back to the Dursleys every summer, or fighting Lord Voldemort. It would just be him and his parents. Forever. They could lead the life he always dreamed to have, back when he was still that little boy sleeping in a cupboard. Truthfully, there wasn’t any downside…

Except...

“My friends. I don’t want to leave them.”

“But they’ll join you someday. And in the afterlife, time passes much sooner, so you’ll hardly have time to miss them at all.”

Lily reached out and took Harry’s hands. This time he didn’t pull away.

“Don’t you want to be with us?”

Maybe dying wasn’t so bad. Not if his parents were there with him…

Despite everything, despite how hard Harry had worked to survive in the past, in that split second of time with his mother holding his hands, Harry truly and honestly entertained the prospect of death.

Then a few things happened all at once.

Tom, standing a little ways away from them, no doubt put off by the talk of death, made a noise - some sort of gasp.

Harry’s mouth fell open at the sight of him. No longer wispy and ghost-like, Tom had suddenly become just as solid as Harry himself.

Lily and James did not become solid. They, quite contrastingly, became even more ghost-like than before. Their color drained, Lily’s fiery red hair and green eyes dulling, and James’s dark hair and eyes fading to grey. Their mouths stretched into smiles, which wouldn’t be anything new, if not for the sheer intensity of these smiles. Thin and stretching to the point that Harry feared their faces may rip in half from the pressure. Lily’s grasp on his hand was no longer gentle, but became tight and sharp, like a monster’s claw.

“I change my mind!” Harry yelled.

And in an instant everything went back to normal. Lily and James's expressions morphed back to gentle concern. And Tom returned to his regular, non-physical self.

Harry couldn’t find the words to express himself. What could he possibly say in a situation like this? Without as much as a nod, he ripped the ring off his finger.

XXX

He found himself lying on top of his bed in the Gryffindor dormitory, his chest heaving up and down and heart pounding in his ears. He didn’t even have time to recover from what he just witnessed, because at that moment Ron pulled open the curtains around his bed.

“Where were you?” Ron demanded. Harry sat up. He noticed Ron’s face was rather red and puffy.

“What?”

“Where were you?” he repeated.

“What do you - I was in the ring. You know this.”

“In the ring,” he echoed, giving a disbelieving laugh. “I have to get Hermione.”

He turned, but Harry caught him by the sleeve.

“No wait,” he said, utterly bewildered by Ron's behavior. “What’s wrong? What's the problem?”

“Harry, you’ve been gone for three days.”