Chapter Text
The afterlife was nothing like heaven, hell, purgatory, or anything else that Muggles had theorised on the matter. It wasn’t even like King’s Cross, as it had been for Harry – it just… was. An endless space that she shared, vaguely, with people she knew and loved, and those who had only passed her by, sometimes.
It wasn’t boring per se, but it definitely wasn’t any sort of filling end to her existence either – and the thought of eternity like that was oddly… no, she didn’t even want to think about it. Much better to watch those still living than to dwell on her own eternal unrest, as it were.
“That’s because you’re not done yet.” A voice said, amused.
It was strange – there were no real words where she was. Only feelings, thoughts, and presences. Except… except she found she could speak.
“How can I not be done? The war is won! Harry is safe. Is… is he in danger again?” She asked, fearful for her son. James’ essence – it seemed he didn’t have words in that space – was soothing around her.
“No, the war is done. What remains is your… reward.” The voice said. It sounded male – but she wasn’t quite sure.
“My reward? For what?”
“For saving the world. Your sacrifice didn’t just save your son.”
She swallowed thickly, surprised to find that she could, that she seemed to have a body again, somehow.
“But I only died for Harry to live.”
“And he did, but all those others whom you saved – the entire wizarding world, they too are grateful. Gratitude is a powerful thing, you know. Not as powerful as love, but enough of it has a lot of power.”
She laughed hoarsely – the voice was starting to sound like Dumbledore, and she didn’t care for it, not one bit.
“And what am I supposed to do with all that gratitude?”
Things started to take shape before her new eyes – not King’s Cross, but rather a playground in Cokeworth, one she hadn’t seen in… a long time. Albus took shape before her too and she swallowed down the bitterness his sight carried. He had set her son up to die – die for the world, yes, but die nonetheless. That it had been necessary didn’t matter.
“Make a wish.” He said gently.
“What am I supposed to wish for?” She asked harshly. Again, she felt James all around her, soothing. Encouraging. Loving.
“Anything at all. Here or in the world of the living. But make your wish carefully, you will only get the one.” Albus said, the mask slipping a bit – she didn’t think it was really her old headmaster standing before her. Not truly.
“So I could wish for Harry’s happiness?”
He shrugged good-naturedly. “You could. You could wish for a new lease on life. Perhaps you’re not quite… dead yet?” He mocked his earlier words. She thought about it for a second – did she want to live again?
“I could hold Harry in my arms.” She whispered softly, imagining it. Imagining the young man he had become, the man he still would become. Her heart clenched with fondness and melancholy.
“You could. Is that your wish?”
Another thought pushed into her mind, unbidden – unwelcome almost. She pushed it away – or tried to.
“No.” Her mouth said, without her permission. She frowned – she just got a mouth, and now it was working against her? James’ concern washed around her, as did that of Sirius, Remus, so many more people she loved. She sighed softly, enjoying the soft sensation of their care.
“What do you want, then?”
The unbidden thought came back, clawing into her with no chance of dislodging it again. She gasped softly.
“I want him to be happy.” She whispered, realising with startling clarity that it was true. She was fighting tears, wondering just how mad James would be by her wish. She could bring them both back to life, but… but! They had been happy already. Their happiness had already happened, but they weren’t the only ones that deserved it.
“Who? Harry?” Dumbledore asked, although she could see from the look in his eyes that he knew who she meant.
Mentally apologising to James, she shook her head.
“I mean Severus.” She admitted.
The thunderous roar of anger, confusion, disappointment, hatred, regret and so much more burned around her, through her, spinning in and out of her mind with the force of a tornado, though the silence of the place they were in never changed.
It was the last thing she was aware of before everything went white again, and she faded from awareness.