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Stormy Heart

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All hope abandon ye who enter here.


Voldemort had raised his wand. His head was still tilted to one side, like a curious child, wondering what would happen if he proceeded. Harry looked back into the red eyes, and wanted it to happen now, quickly, while he could still stand, before he lost control, before he betrayed fear — He saw the mouth move and a flash of green light, and everything was gone. 


Everything was gone. 


There was no train station - no Albus Dumbledore to provide paltry comfort in the Beyond - not in this universe. 


Later, a memory of ice-cold darkness piercing his heart, a shadowed figure of Death, a half-heard conversation and a new destiny upon his shoulder, Harry Potter's mind woke with a stray thought. 


I exist. 


He must exist because he could formulate this thought. If he could think, it followed he had a brain and by extension a body. He did not open his eyes yet - if he had eyes - and tried to move a hand to feel his face.


Nothing moved on this command - because he had no body. Was he pure consciousness then? He willed himself to see his surroundings and it was like a sight without eyes was granted to him. Pure darkness studded with pinpricks of light met his vision. There was also a small blue dot in the distance - he realised with wonder that it was Earth itself. 


Harry, as a bodiless spirit, wandering in space, was stunned by the infinity of the stars and the endlessness of darkness. The vision of beauty pulsed deep in his soul - for he was pure soul in those moments... 


If this was death he had nothing to complain, although there was a shadow of memory at the edge of his thoughts that he ignored in favour of of the peaceful stillness and blissful silence. 


As soon as it registered in his consciousness the lack of sound it was like his hearing was granted to him... and if he had vocal chords he would have torn them with his own screams.


There was no music of the spheres to lull his death - but the lament of humanity. It was the dying, horrifying screams of grief, of death, of unspeakable tragedy echoing in the universe that only a soul could hear. 


His consciousness was drowned under the howls of pain, it was unbearable, as if he himself was feeling the dolour of multitudes. 


Time itself lost meaning - a second was eternity - despair was all he knew until he lost all sense of self. 


The universe was rewinding - time was unrolling back and the Earth was rotating backwards for years and years, and the stars retraced their steps, as reality began again at a crucial point for Harry Potter, a war-torn day on the June of 1943. 



"THROUGH ME yous pass into the city of woe

through me you pass into eternal pain:

through me among the people lost forever.


All hope abandon, ye who enter here.