Mortem Obire

Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Dying is no easy feat

There was undoubtedly something about her which just seemed to scream trouble come and find me. Well, that and the Killing Curse. It was something of a favourite that her enemies liked to try using against her, no matter the fact that she had survived it twice before.

The third time, though, was most definitely the charm, or so Harriet Potter mused to herself as she stared at the blank whiteness surrounding her.

An all-white version of King's Cross railway station greeted her eyes in the next second, the view changing in the blink of an eye, and Harriet could only pause as she realised that she wouldn't be able to go back that time. There was no Voldemort unknowingly tethering her to life. Instead there was just the remnants of the tired girl who Harriet Potter had been waiting in a deathly train station.

"To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure."

Dumbledore had once told her that, dead as he was – and that time there was no odd remnant of him to offer her a choice. Instead there was only a single train in the station, its engine that of the Hogwarts Express which had once taken her to a place she could be free. A place of adventure where she had somehow found herself amidst the ruin and wreckage which came from being marked as the saviour. The hero. The prophesised one.

A smile curled at her lips at that, and despite the panging sensation of loss which came from dying and leaving everyone behind, she felt oddly at peace.

Maybe now she could rest. Maybe now she could free herself from the bone deep weariness which had dogged her footsteps ever since she had escaped death's clutches the second time around. Maybe now she could see her parents – see Sirius – and tell them all about what had happened.

Screeching sounds met her ears as she took the first step towards the open train carriage doors which beckoned. It took her only a second longer to realise exactly what those sounds were: the sounds of a train slowing down from full speed rather abruptly, and the unmistakable sounds of a train arriving.

Harriet paused, a shiver crawling down her spine at the sight of the new train which rolled into the station at a slow chug, slowing to a stop with a distinct, final clink. Apparently, even without Dumbledore there, she had a choice. Even if she wasn't entirely sure what that choice was.

The newest arrival in the station of the dead was the complete opposite of the first. It was a metallic dark colour, just a shade shy from black, the interior similarly as gloomy as the exterior. That wasn't what drew her eye though. Rather, the odd symbols carved onto the carriages' exteriors which she vaguely recognised from one of Hermione's books did. Ancient Greek, Harriet thought, though she wasn't entirely sure, what with her not being the absolute maniac of a bookworm which Hermione was. Well, those strange symbols, and one far, far too familiar sigil which marred the space just above the parted train doors.

A triangle containing a circle and a line.

The symbol of the Deathly Hallows.

Harriet swallowed, turning her focus back onto the first train – the train she had decided was the one to get on, peaceful and restful as it seemed. She barely made it two steps towards those tantalisingly open doors before her ankles were hauled out from underneath her. Forces mostly invisible to her eyes dragged her backwards, ignoring the yelp she let out as she struggled and clawed at the white ground she was yanked across. The surface was far too smooth to get a grip on, fingers scrabbling for purchase where there was none, her wand nowhere in sight as she clawed frantically at the too-smooth flooring until the world around her changed from white to black.