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SIYE Time:17:34 on 28th March 2024
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The Veil
By Mutt N Feathers

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Category: Post-OotP, Holidays
Characters:Harry/Ginny
Genres: Drama
Warnings: Death
Story is Complete
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 113
Summary: In the fall of 1996 Harry finds a book about the ancient holidays just before Samhain, or what has become Hallowe'en. Tradition says communication with the dead is possible. Harry enlists Ginny to help him find out if its true.
Hitcount: Story Total: 59007; Chapter Total: 3171
Awards: View Trophy Room




Author's Notes:
Hi, I know it's been forever since I wrote anything, but here's a new Harry/Ginny story. The idea is something which has been nagging at me for some time. I don't expect this to be long, but we will see where the prose takes me. Unlike the rest of my stories, I have no plan for this one. I hope you enjoy, MNF




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The Veil

By Mutt N Feathers

A Harry Potter Fan Fiction

Chapter 1: Questions
An Understanding of the Pagan Roots of Modern Holidays

By Mya Gratgat

The most misunderstood of the of the modern holidays is Hallowe'en; for much of the pagan holiday is still there, although hidden. Samhain was the beginning of the new year for the pagans and Celts. The day was spent honouring the dead of the family, and reaching out to them, for the veil is thinnest on this day. Messages and apparitions were common.

Harry assessed the text, his mind wondering. Is the veil really thin now? Who could I speak to? His life had felt exceptionally empty since Sirius had fallen through the veil earlier this year. He'd only been with him for two years, but for the first time, he could remember, Harry had someone who he could call his. Sirius was family. He'd lost him too.

Hermione was poring over the instructions in her Potions text, frustrated at Harry's sudden ease and success in the class when he'd barely passed in previous years. Harry wasn't ready to tell her that he was getting help from whoever owned the textbook before he did. She was so preoccupied she'd not noticed what Harry was reading, only that he was. If she'd known, she might have put a stop to what Harry was contemplating. However, there was no single soul in Hogwarts who could feel what Harry was percolating in his mind. There were, however, four souls watching very carefully from beyond.

"It took him long enough to get to this part," Sirius remarked as he watched his godson reading the book. "He's a rather slow reader, isn't he?"

"At least his lips don't move while he's reading," James teased back.

"Boys," Elizabeth Potter mildly rebuked as only a mother can. "That's my grandson, and I'm sure he reads perfectly fine. He's remarkable, all things considered."

"True enough," Reginald Potter added. "Has he reached the second on summoning someone through the veil?"

"I don't know, dad. It's not like we can open his brain and read along," James said testily. He'd been waiting for fifteen years to finish the fight with Voldemort and finally find out what had happened to his wife. He'd searched everywhere, throughout all of limbo, as his family called it, and she was nowhere to be found.

"James Ashley Potter, you will not speak that way. I understand you're frustrated, but you may not take it out on us. Go find another soul to pester if you're going to persist with this petulance."

"Ashley," Sirius joked under his breath. He had teased James about his name since he'd learned of his somewhat feminine middle name when they were twelve.

"Sirius, lad, how old were you when you died?" Elizabeth asked with an exhausted tone.

"Thirty-six."

"Then you are more than old enough to no longer feel the need to tease James about his name."

"Yes, ma'am."

Harry took the book by Ms. Gratgat with him, but wasn't ready to head back to the tower. Everyone was all about the Quidditch try-outs still. Cormac's last-minute mess-up made it possible for him to let Ron have the position. While Ron's emotional state was a bit of a roller coaster, he fit with the team better than Cormac ever would have.

What people didn't understand about Harry was his need for quiet sometimes. He rarely was able to find the stillness he needed, but when he could, he took it. Harry went to sit on the Astronomy tower. It was still light out, which meant it was empty. The hour between darkness falling and curfew meant the tower was crowded with couples trying to find their own private spot for a bit of snogging. He was surprised to find another person there, and someone he enjoyed their company.

"Ginny, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be off with Dean somewhere?"

"No, I needed some time away from him. He can be very…overbearing," she explained. "What brings you up here?"

"I needed somewhere private to think. Do you ever wonder about what happened at the Ministry in May?"

"There are days I can barely think of anything else. That prophecy, the Death Eaters, Sirius," she paused when she said his name, a tear falling from her cheek. "Do you know he's the only person, other than Bill, that really talked with me about what happened in the Chamber. He said he understood what it was like to have Voldemort in your head."

"When did that happen?"

"He didn't say, but he rubbed that scar, you know, the one in his hairline while he was talking. He wasn't entirely with me when he talked about it, you know?"

"His sort of lost-somewhere-else look?" he asked, and Ginny nodded. "Yeah, I remember it. He looked that way every time he mentioned my parents or grandparents. As for Voldemort in your head, if you ever need to talk I understand."

Ginny took his hand and threaded her fingers through his and held it. The silence was just what each of them needed, and it went on for a long while. They listened to the owls hooting and screeching as they came or left the owlery. The drying leaves rustled on the trees, making a scratching sound that somehow made Harry think about Sirius beyond the veil, trying to claw his way back. Neither Ron nor Hermione would understand what he wanted to do, but maybe Ginny would. She'd touched death more intimately in her second year than either of his best mates had.

"What do you know about Samhain?" Harry tentatively asked.

"Not a whole lot. Everything I remember was from when I was small, and my Grammy Henry would come over to speak with Grampy Felix. Once Grammy passed, Mum didn't celebrate it anymore. We didn't even put out the pictures of the people we lost."

"So, you understand about the veil being thin and communicating with the dead?"

"Oh, Harry, it was so much more than that. Grampy Felix could be conjured up, and he would sit in a chair and chat with us. He looked real, almost, and he would sit for hours. He told us stories about those who'd passed on and what they were doing. It was wonderful. Samhain was one night I was always proud to be a witch and a pagan."

"Do you think I can talk with Sirius again?"

"I think we can try."

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