The Nightmare Man's Journey

Chapter Five

Walking down the gory path with Rowena was rather relaxing, if one ignored the scenery. Rowena didn't seem as bothered with it as Harrison thought. Was it because she knew it wasn't real? Or had death changed her?

She didn't feel changed. She was the Rowena he had grown to know, her body youthful and strong.

"I wonder if this path is supposed to be a punishment," Rowena said. "To have you think about your actions?"

"I don't think death is that foolish to believe this will make me rethink my life choices," Harrison replied. "Perhaps more a physical representation of my history. I did pave my way forward by killing people."

"Still," Rowena said as she stepped over a hand, nose wrinkled. "It feels a bit too much."

"I'm too much, Rowena, you know that."

"Hopefully we'll get to the others soon."

"The others?" Harrison's heart jumped to his throat. "They are all… they are here?"

"Of course they are!" Rowena said, looking at him. "I know you will try to return to life, but… we are hoping you could stay for a little bit. Have a chat, face to face. We've missed you."

"I've missed you four as well. More than I'd like to admit."

Did she know about all the people he had now outside of his servants and Dementors and Inferi? Did the conversations he had with their portraits come back to their souls here in the afterlife? Did he want to know?

"Rowena…" He tried to find the words. "Do you… know? The conversations with your portraits, do you four remember?"

She took his hand and held it tightly.

"We do. It's distant, like a memory, but we do remember them. It's not the same as talking directly to you, but a little piece of us remains in those portraits."

So he wasn't just talking to memories of them. He was talking to them, even if death separated them. Harrison felt a bit better about that.

"Those people back there," Rowena said. "Did you kill all of them?"

"Yes," Harrison said. "Back when I was Harry Potter."

"Why did you meet them?"

"Because I had something I needed to do. Do you remember Aunt and Uncle?"

"Your demons? How could I forget them?"

"They came from the past. I kept dreaming about them, even after I remembered. They remained with me, even when I tried to convince myself that the past had no hold over me."

"And now?"

"Now it doesn't. I let it go."

It didn't feel very different right now. It wasn't like a great weight lifted from his shoulders. But he hoped he would notice. Perhaps he wouldn't have nightmares as often. Perhaps he wouldn't get stuck in the past as often… perhaps he wouldn't get stuck at all.

The corpses were grasping for him every now and then. Garbled demands, why, why did you kill me, WHY, could be heard. He didn't respond. No answer could possibly satisfy them anyway, so why try?