The Darkening of Your Soul

Chapter 5

“What’s it like to die?” Barty asked during Harry’s third and final visit. The next day Harry was off to Hogwarts.

Harry smiled at Barty over the chess set on the coffee table between them. “The first time I died –“

“Wait, the first time? How many times have you died?” Barty demanded, putting the pawn he’d been about to move down again.

“I’ve died twice,” Harry said with a fond smile. During their brief acquaintance Harry had learned that Barty was a true Ravenclaw who wanted to know everything. He had a curiosity problem that rivalled Harry’s. “The first time I let Voldemort hit me in the face with a killing curse-“

“I did not hit you in the face, Potter,” Voldemort said with a glare directed at Harry. He sat in his customary chair, watching them play chess while he put the finishing touches on some enchanted silver compact mirrors they could use for communication. “I hit you square in the chest. Always aim at the biggest part of your target.”

“Anyway,” Harry continued. “I was hit with a killing curse somewhere on my body and it was the quickest, nicest way to die all things considered. No pain, no fear, just poof, you’re dead.”

“Huh,” Barty said, finally moving his pawn forward. “People have theorized this for ages but no one could actually prove that is was quick and without pain.”

“Until now when there’s two people that have first-hand experience.” Harry looked to the side. “Right, Tom?” Harry had called him by his real name once or twice just to see how he reacted. The old Voldemort hated it and would resort to throwing curses in response.

The new and improved version merely sighed. “Don’t call me that,” Voldemort said while giving Harry an exasperated look as though he knew exactly what Harry was doing. “But yes, the killing curse is as advertised, painless and instantaneous.”

“Now the Veil was different,” Harry explained to a riveted Barty. “The fabric doesn’t actually feel like fabric, but like this freezing burst of wind that swallows you up. Everything is dark immediately, but you realize it’s dark, you’re still conscious for that for a moment. And then everything is white and you’re in limbo.”

“It makes you wonder where your body went,” Barty mused. “What happened to it outside of limbo somewhere.”

“Right? I have wondered about my body. It wasn’t anywhere in limbo where I could see it.” Harry studied the chessboard for a moment and moved his rook. He was losing. Badly. “Now you, or at least the previous you, knows what it’s like to be kissed by a dementor.”

“Potter,” Voldemort snapped as Barty paled drastically and looked ready to be sick all over the chess board. “Quit traumatizing my assistant.”

“Sorry,” Harry muttered. He hadn’t meant to upset Barty. “If it makes you feel better, you were a pretty good Defence teacher, and you once turned Draco Malfoy into a white ferret and then bounced him all over the entrance hall which remains one of the most hilarious things I’ve ever seen.”

Barty gave a watery chuckle. “If that boy is anything like his father he probably needed to be taken down a peg or two.”

“Exactly,” Harry said with a laugh, glad to see Barty recovering so quickly. “Before I forget, when are you planning to do the ritual, and do you need me there?” Harry had already donated a few vials of blood to Voldemort.