“Okay,” Mal said sitting back and getting comfortable as the chair beneath her changed from her driver’s seat to one of the plush recliners in the room, "I take it from your black wings that I'm either going to hell as Rida has always been screeching that I will, or you’re all here for a different reason?”

Given that she knew Rida often spouted crap from her mouth as if it was gold, Mal was fairly certain that the threats about Mal going to hell because of her own sins were just that. Crap. Else she would have given up on Mal and tossed her into the dark abyss that was Hell already. She had come to learn through Rida’s omissions and talking without answering questions, compared to Mal’s pure honesty, no matter how much she tried to lie when she talked, that this place, heaven, purgatory, whatever, wouldn’t allow its people to lie. Which is why when Rida talked it sounded robotic, not the truth, but not a lie either, it’s what Rida truly believed.

Mal was glad to see others there when she woke up this time. When one moved toward her, he had her full attention, and she couldn’t help it as she stared wide-eyed. The angel was an orc, a motherfucking orc with black wings and he grinned at her, with surprising ease given the tusks in his mouth.

A mythical creature, that was one of the many that Rida denounced the existence of when Mal's interest leaned more towards fantasy. Now he was standing before her. Further proof of Rida's lie by omission and personal belief. And it left Mal with a lot more questions than she cared to admit.

Did this mean the world had creatures like Orc and elves? Was her world destined to become one like that movie Bright? She'd enjoyed it, but it threw a person head first into like the middle of a story without explaining anything but the bare minimum. It was a little late now to wonder if there were books, comics, or would be a graphic novel? Based on the story of Bright.

“A different reason.” He said in a deep baritone voice, catching her attention once more. “Though the show there at the end was rather enjoyable.” His mischievous grin left no doubt to what he was referring to.

“Glad you enjoyed it.” She giggled nervously. Really, what else was she supposed to say to them? She was an awkward introvert, unable to get work elsewhere for a reason. At least at the club, she didn't have to socialize much.

Contrary to what others thought of her social skills and conversation talents, she was awkward and often spent hours after every encounter second-guessing her words and thinking people thought her a fool. She knew it to be the result of the way she was raised and the marriage she endured. She’d gotten better over her two years working for a living. Still, she had down days, and this was obviously a down day.

“Filthy demons need to shut up and stay away from my charge!” Rida spat. Once more drawing Mal’s ever wondering mind back to the topic at hand.

Mal literally had to bite her tongue, hard enough to almost cut through, to keep the Gollum reference she was thinking of from coming out. It was ever so hard, but she miraculously managed it. Didn’t help that the last thing she watched before going into work was the Hobbit and Lord of the Rings trilogies.

This place wouldn’t let you lie, it also wouldn’t stop impulsive thoughts from popping out either. Which got her into trouble in the past with Rida when she said the first thing that came to mind. She shuddered remembering a time when she fought with Rida about something she impulsively said, obviously, Rida won that round.

Rida, the pathetic excuse of a guardian angel, the topic of her thoughts, stood and approached Mal. “Sign this and get on with your next life. This time you will do it right child, or it will be hellfire’s and brimstones for you!” Rida looked around then looked back at Mal. “The current company should be proof of enough of that!”

All of the men, which she did notice that everyone else in the room were men, including what looked to be another soul, shouted “NO!”

Mal was shocked by the anger and sheer determination displayed on each of them.

“Mal, do NOT sign that!” The orc said stepping closer to her, the leader of the band of black wings obviously. His urgency and sincerity ringing true and clear, for the first time, Mal heard the complete truth in his words and felt the magic of the place confirming it in her very soul.

“I don’t know where or how she got that, but that’s not your contract.” He frowned deeply, again she was surprised he could manage that with the tusks in his mouth. “You were never even supposed to have a contract. Gabriel himself asked me to oversee this lifetime, on Michael's orders, I might add. You suffered needlessly, and terribly because of a fake contract!”

“LIES!” Rida shouted. Mal heard the urgency in her tone as well, along with a hint of desperation. However, that was it, Rida’s usual robotic tone was back, and it held nothing of the ring of truth she heard from the Orc seconds prior. “Child, you’ve been raised many times now with the word of God being spoken in your home. You know evil comes not in ugly creatures, but in the face of beauty to deceive the good and pure souls.”

No one missed the fact that Rida just called the orc a face of beauty. Who shook his head rather quickly and stared at Rida in abject horror. She got the image of Silent Bob’s face doing the same thing in one of his earlier movies, one that Rida screamed at her for even thinking about watching it because they played as prophets in the movie. Apparently, that movie was sacrilege of the highest order, and she would personally see to their torment when things were “righted” again in Heaven. Whatever that meant.

“Do not let them sway you now!” Rida ordered urgently, continuing on as if everyone was reacting to her previous statement at all. “Yes, your mortal shell fell victim to the depravity of lust, yet again, and while I was truly sickened to the core by your actions, I was proud that you withstood from sins of the flesh. There is hope for you yet my dear, now sign your contract.”

Again, all of the men shouted NO! And once again, the Orc desperately talked.

“Mal, you’re a free thinker that’s why you never fit in well with that family. You know heaven and the afterlife don’t work that way, you know it.” The orc said cautiously, his hands raised in surrender. “That contract will merely see that life repeated again. Rida’s actually would have made this life worse than the others if I hadn’t interfered. All of the beatings were done with her prompting. Your husband being small dicked, then leaving you, her doing. Your not being able to children, her doing.”

Mal looked at Rida, while she had suspected before, the angel merely confirmed it. Not once had the ring of truth vanished from his words as he spoke. “Is that true?”

Rida turned her nose up at her, as she often did when Mal asked pointed questions and did so to promote her superiority to Mal. “It was not in your contract, so yes. I stepped in to assure you would go on the right path."

“Then what was that job?” Mal asked looking about the room.

“My doing.” The orc said sheepishly admitted, one hand rubbing the back of his neck as he refused to look her in the end. “It was better than her option.”

“Which was?” Mal asked looking back to Rida.

Rida looked furious. “You were supposed to accept the invitation from your aunt to visit the nunnery! You were supposed to be inducted as a nun!”

“But that was not her destiny!” The orc shouted, his fury etched into every word. “To start with, because she’d been married, they wouldn’t have taken her! She wouldn’t have really wanted, or proved herself enough to get it! Second, I’ve read the original file and the current one. I didn’t need Gabriel to tell me what Michael had planned for her because I saw it with my own eyes! She was supposed to fall in love, get married, and have lots of children who would go on to do incredible things in the world! Michael ordered that you know him right, the leader of the Arch Angel trio? Those were his specific instructions, and they are gospel to us angels, and you went and defied them!”

Mal looked at the orc in shock, and her heart aching at the thought. “That’s really true isn’t?”

“YES!” The orc insisted as Rida shouted, “NO!”

But the Orc carried on as if Rida hadn’t spoken, and Mal hung onto his every word. “You would have run away right after your graduation, going to a college you were accepted into with a teacher's help, and left the family for good. He was an older student, studying for a psychology major. Because of the abuse you suffered, you would have fought against love at first, but then embraced it and allowed it to heal you. You then would teach your children to be mindful of those who would hurt them, but still, love with all of they are." The orc said with a warm smile. "With you and your husband, they would have been the pioneers to see a better future for all children.” He glared at Rida, “She saw to it, that not only they would never be born, but that the rest of your world would suffer for a great deal many years.”

“Why?” Mal asked looking at Rida. “Why would you do that? You're supposed to be an angel for fuck's sake and look out for the betterment of the world! Why Rida!?”

Rida’s nostrils flared as she breathed deeply and yelled with all of her might. “They speak lies!”

“We can’t lie here!” Mal said standing up finally and facing Rida. No matter how much Rida might claim the high ground as a superior, Mal was taller, and she now had an army at her back. Rida, stood alone. "Sure, you can repeat something if you believe with every fiber of your being that it's true, which do you so often. But when it comes to the big things, the true matter, lies are impossible." She pointed to the orc and the other black wings. "I can tell what they are saying is the truth. You on, the other hand, it's like you're repeating something you read from a book. So tell me why?”

Rida was silent for a long moment before she once again turned her nose up. “No charge of mine will partake in the sins of the flesh. I was made an angel because of my purity, I will see my charges rise for they are the same.”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Mal said with a shake of her head.

In a rush of movement that Mal could not see, and the others could not stop, Rida was suddenly in front of her, and slapped her hard across the face.

“Do not use that befouled language in my presence!” Rida screamed. The room stood shocked that Rida had actually done such a thing. She used the opportunity to put the contract in Mal’s hands. “Now sign this you vivacious slut! Go back to your mortal shell so you may be cleansed!”

“A vivacious slut, huh?” Mal mused before the men could say anything. She looked the glowing contract over. She knew what it said, she’d read this thing a number of times already. There was no out, no what-if scenarios. Mal had to endure all of that abuse from start to finish, and she had to get to an unspecified ending that Rida wanted. Though now that Rida let the cat out of the bag, Mal knew what it was Rida wanted from her. To become a nun.

Mal could live without sex and true love, she’d done that so many times now. She could live without having children. But what she couldn’t do, was go through all of the hypocritical bullshit anymore. The church officiates and proprietors saying one thing then doing another, expecting the masses to just react as if nothing terrible just happened.

And she was supposed to become a nun? A faithful follow to this religion, devote in a rather extreme way? No. She couldn’t do that. If she believed as they did, she probably could have, but she didn’t, and there was no point in pretending otherwise.

She turned the contract on its side and proceeded to rip it in half again, and again, and again until it was in tiny little pieces. It’s glowing dimmed with each tear. When the glowing stopped, she dropped the pieces to the floor.

“Sorry Rida, but I'd rather be a vivacious slut and go to hell than to go through that life one more time. I'll never get it right because the orc is right."

“Tarnok.” The orc said softly, trying not to laugh as the others in the room were simply hysterical.

“Tarnok then.” Mal nodded thankfully in his direction. Crossing her arms looking at Rida with a glare. “I don’t believe as that family does because I know it’s not true. I felt in every mortal life that what I was living was wrong. I cried myself to sleep every night because I felt like I wasn’t doing something that I should, but I couldn’t figure out what. Coming back after each life clarifies for me what’s wrong. It was that contract.

“My soul knew, even if my mind didn't understand it, that the mortal life you forced me to live wasn't right, wasn't for me. The fact that an angel would condemn a child to that fate, let alone an adult soul, is beyond vicious and cruel, that's not something an angel would do. No matter how much you say it was for the best, there was no "best" in any situation or scenario in that life. Not to mention I knew every time you tried to convince me that you weren't telling me the truth.”

Rida didn't seem to hear what Mal was saying. She was staring at the contract in utter shock.

“What’s your problem now?” Mal demanded with a growl.

“You, you tore the sacred word of god!” Rida began sobbing hysterically dropping to her knees to hastily recover the torn up contract. “You ungrateful little whore how you could be so cruel!? So vile!?”

Mal rolled her eyes at yet another example of the hypocrisy that seemed to permeate her existence. Once more, Rida's tone sounded robotic. She knew the contract was fake, but believed wholeheartedly, that any contract made was "the word of God". How was it Mal knew next to nothing about this place but seemed to have a better understanding of things than Rida did? Something to think about she supposed.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she looked at Tarnok, “You said Gabriel asked you to watch over me, right?”

He nodded.

“Any way I can speak with him about this?” She asked, doing her best to hide her nervousness. “I realize there is much I need to learn, and I realize he’s probably very busy, but I need to start somewhere, and he’s the one who ordered you here, seems like a good place to start.”

“He’s in communion with the higher ups right now.” Tarnok said with a sigh of great relief. He looked at the only other soul in the room. “But you can go back with his charge to his office and wait for him there. You’re right, he’s the one to talk to about this, as I’m sure, no matter how much pleasure I would take in having you as my charge, he has other plans for you. The others and I are going to go wait for him to get out of communion so we can deliver our report to him ourselves. He’ll be very interested to know what’s been happening here.”

She, deciding to overlook the malice that was in Tarnok's tone, since it was obviously directed at one pathetic angel still trying to piece back together a turn-up piece of paper, looked at the man who met her eyes. “Is that alright with you?”

“If it gets you away from that crazy bitch, I’m all for it.” He said offering his hand.

Mal took a deep breath and nodded. “Alright,” she took his hand. “Lead the way.”

“Stay with the lad, he’ll make sure you’re safe from this wench.” Tarnok nodded his approval. “Alright, you lot,” Said getting other black wing’s attention, all of them glued on her, “let’s go wait on Gabriel to give him the report.”

"Yes!" Rida exclaimed rising to her feet. "Gabriel! If there's an angel that will put you in your place it's him!" She narrowed her eyes at Mal. "Just you wait, you'll pay for what you've done child!"

“Somehow,” Mal said looking around at the new-found protectors that encircled her, and the soul that stepped in front of her, still holding her hand, then back at Rida, “I get the feeling that you’ll be the one to pay, not me.”

“Lad,” Tarnok said firmly, “Take Mal out of here now.”

Mal followed the man, out of the room. At first, they moved with such haste that she feared they had a long way to go, after a few moments, when they felt the rush of air from angels hurrying away in the opposite direction, they slowed to a steady pace, and Mal breathed a sigh of relief.

Her hand was still held tightly in his. Not uncomfortably, just, oddly. No one had ever held her hand this tight. In life, or death. She waited for him to drop her hand, but it never happened. Odd. Though, perhaps this was the norm? It wasn’t like she had much experience in this place for a basis of comparison.

Other than today, the only person she had met here was Rida. And that blonde angel with blue wings in her last afterlife who assured her that she had to sign the contract to return to life. She had asked if it was the right one for her, feeling that it was wrong, but that question was left unanswered. Mal was glad to see that this afterlife was different.

She wondered what changed to make the angels look into Rida’s guidance over her? Why would the leader of the Arch Angels care about her? She wasn’t anything special, right?

“You’re awfully quiet.” The man said looking back at her for the first time since they left her room when they reached a dead end of the hallway.

“Just, lost in thought.” Mal said looking around, “uh, where are we?”

“Gabriel’s office is in there.” The man said gesturing to the wall.

“But it’s a wall.”

“Very astute.” He grinned at her.

“Obviously it’s warded or something, so he doesn’t get disturbed unless he wants to.” She said looking around deciding to ignore his mocking of her for the moment, as she deserved it for the bland comment, “But how do we get in?”

"Like this." The man said before turning back to the wall and roundhouse kicked at it. The large golden door appearing and slowly swinging open after he created a massive hole in the wall.

She stared wide-eyed. Unsure if she should be shocked, horrified, or a mix of both.

“You, uh,” she attempted a chuckle, but it came out in a huff, “You don’t like your guardian angel much, huh?”

He looked at her confused. “I like him just fine, why?”

She gestured to the door as she walked through. “That.”

“Oh that,” he said with a shrug. “The winged prick shouldn’t have locked me out.”

“Wow.” She said as the door closed by itself. With a resigned sigh that she was here to stay for at least a little while, she turned and saw the bookshelves. “Wow!” She said again with more emotion. “What are these books? They don’t have titles on the spine,” after a quick check to confirm, “and no titles on the cover either. What are these books?”

“The history of Creation of both the mortal and immortal plains, and angel manuals, rules, and guidelines.” He said sounding a little bored by the subject.

“They have books on the matter!? You mean, it’s been here, available, this whole time!?” Mal turned him, eyes wide and her excitement getting the better of her. “Really!? You mean, I can absolutely learn all of it without consequence!?”

He nodded leaning against the wall looking confused. “Why wouldn’t you be able to?”

She fixed him with a glare. “You’ve met my angel, have you already forgotten about her?”

“Oh, right.” He nodded. “And yes, she’s that insignificant.” He shrugged. “At least to me. That’s how I deal with people here.”

Mal blew out a sigh, he obviously dealt with more angels here than she did, so she wasn’t going to knock his methods. She clasped her hands behind her back to keep from snatching at the books as she smiled at them wistfully. “I have so many questions. Had since I first encountered Rida, but as you can imagine, she was less than helpful in answering them.”

“I’ll bet.” He scoffed.

“She was always in a rush to get me onto the next mortal life.” Mal explained. “So I was always in the dark about everything. I asked to learn, to understand, so I might follow her orders easier, but she falls into that troupe that lesser beings don’t need to know the truth, or understand how everything works. I was supposed to be a mindless pawn that obeyed her every order.”

“I imagine that was Rida’s goal from what little I’ve seen of her.” He sighed as well. “Something I would know from personal experience.”

“Huh?” She looked back at him confused, and he just shook his head. A topic that was off limits, she would recognize that signal in her sleep.

“So, is there a name for where we are?” She asked casually changing the subject.

“Purgatory.” He said, sounding as if he said it before to others a thousand times before. "The place where souls are tried for their sins and sent onto their next journey."

“Heaven, or Hell?” She looked at him confused. “Or, rebirth as the case may be with us?”

“Yes, and no.” He said leaning against the wall. “The Underworld is where they torture souls who have sinned, and then they are put back in the rebirth cycle. Hell is where the souls who’ve sinned far too much for redemption are put to suffer eternally, however, there have been a few cases of a miracle happening where a soul managed to see the errors of their ways, and are transferred to the underworld to repent before going back to the rebirth cycle. Heaven is where the mortal souls who’ve earned the right to rest go. They can rest for eternity, sleeping peacefully, or they can rest for a time and then go back into the rebirth cycle once they are ready again.”

Mal stared at him so entranced, “Really!?” She looked back at the books, so many questions filling her head so fast she was practically dizzy with anticipation and desire to learn more. “And those books go into more detail and explain everything?”

“Yup.” He confirmed popping his P, “You’re welcome to sit and read them all you want Mal. I’ve read them a couple of times already, so they hold nothing new for me.”

“Oh!” She looked back at him embarrassed, “You already know who I am, I’m Mal. Sorry for not introducing myself before, but I never got your name?”

He laughs, “Yeah, I never did give it, did I?” He took the hand she offered him just then, “I’m Harry.”

She took his hand and politely shook it. However, she was unable to stop the giggle.

“Sorry,” She immediately apologized at his quizzical look. “I've never known a Harry. The only time I knew the name to be used was in the Harry Potter books. They were among my favorites! I've read them several times and read a number of fanfictions because I feel like there was a lot of plot holes and things that could have been fixed in the canon versions. I’m not the only one, and I’ve been a happy reader to a lot of others as well. Even wrote a few myself, but that’s not important right now.” She stopped babbling and looked away embarrassed before taking a calming breath and looking back at him with a smile. “But you probably got a lot of that when alive and find the whole thing a little annoying, am I right?”

He took a bracing breath, there really was no way to keep this a secret forever. “You,” He raised a hand and showed off the iconic scar, visible even in death. “could say that.”

Though in the truth, having the Horcrux removed left the scar barely visible at all. It was there, for those who knew what they were looking for, but it finally healed over after that last piece of Tom’s soul was removed from his body.

Mal stared. That was it. She fell silent and went wide-eyed. He waited for the stream of questions, for the shrieks of excitement at having met a celebrity. It wouldn't have been the first time he encountered such a reaction, even in the afterlife "The Boy Who Lived" had a strong fanbase. Only, it never came. She just stood frozen, staring.

Worried he waved a hand over her face, “Uh, Mal, you okay over there?”

Mal couldn’t help it. She just admitted to being obsessed with Harry Potter, and overtly so, and he just admitted to being the big man himself. She felt just as bad as the obsessed fangirl Ginny she’d read about in several fanfictions. The canon downplayed her reaction a lot, but in the fanfictions, imaginations ran wild and it showed the whole crazy side one would expect from an obsessed fangirl.

And she admitted to being one! Oh! She wanted to put her head through a wall and not look at him anymore from the embarrassment. But when he waved his hand in front of her face, she knew she had to say something.

“Uh,” unsure where to even begin. Should she apologize? He didn’t look upset. “Can you really be real!?” She found herself asking. Despite the shock, her voice came out soft. “Can you and magic really exist if there is a whole series of books, movies, and a prequel series about you and your world!?”

A thought came over and she narrowed her eyes a bit suspicious. “Is J.K.Rowling really a squib who made a profit off your life story!?” Another thought a occurred to her and it followed out of her mouth before she could stop it. Not for the first time, she damned the magic of this place. “Or was it Rita Skeeter who was banished and wrote the story as a way payback at you for finally putting you in her place!? And that’s why the story was so bad with so many villainous characters behind the scenes and had you marrying the wrong woman!? Ginny was just a terrible match for you in my opinion!”

Mal then clasped her hands over her mouth, willing her verbal diarrhea that was her talking to stop! However, her mouth may have stopped, but her thoughts pushed forward all of her firm beliefs on the matter. The power of this place wanted her voice everything.

Harry, seeing her struggling to hold back certain things, for which he was grateful, decided to take mercy on her. He quickly chose not to comment on how wrong Ginny was for him and found himself chuckling darkly. "I wish."

“You wish?” She repeated confused.

He fixed her with that quizzical look again. “If I wish it were that way, and yet you know the story, what’s the reason for that?”

Mal stared at him for a moment before realizing what he was doing. She was never allowed the chance to ask questions, really sit and think about the situation, and find answers. Rida would never allow it, and often put a stop to it the moment Mal began. So she stopped now and thought about what he said.

The events that happened in the book series, while similar to what happened in reality, there was no indication in her History of any kind of hidden war. Which she realized the wizarding world would do what they could to cover it up, but the all of the sudden disappearances and deaths they wouldn’t be able to cover up. While there had been murders and disappearances, there wasn’t a wide spread of it to indicate the Voldemort war in her life. More than the murders and disappearances, there was nothing along the lines of collapsed buildings in London or bridges.

She found herself looking away from Harry as she thought about things, and began pacing as she thought. Harry, seemed content to stand back and let her brood.

From what she knew about Harry Potter, he was born July 31st, 1980. Making him 38 in the year she died, 2018, but he looked closer to his mid-twenties than his early forties. She was born in 1989. So she was eight, nine years his junior. But, in the canon, he was still well and alive and helping his sons with Ginny. Right?

No to mention, how the people in her world knew the story in the first place since he just admitted that wasn’t the case. So, how?

“Oh,” She looked around and then back at him. A sudden realization dawning on her. “I had a thought, would you mind if I pick at your brain a bit?”

“So long as it stays in my skull, sure.” He grinned at her.

"I just remembered something," She said biting her lip unsure, "it was something that I played around with in High School, DND, and other fantasy things, plus fanfiction touches upon this a lot in certain stories." She looked up at him worried, and his face was stoic, just waiting for her to continue. "It's something along the lines of multiverse theory?”

He cracked a bit of a smile but still said nothing.

“So, if you’re actually the Harry Potter, and magic is real, well obviously, you can’t be from my world. Nothing that happened in your life, happened in my world. Clearly, your world and my world are different.” She said stating the facts at first, “So that’s it! You’re from another world! It’s the only logical explanation, or as logical as one can be standing in Purgatory as a soul. There are many worlds out there, and people get glimpses of other worlds and it comes out in their writing, as artwork and such.”

He tapped his nose with a little grin. “Yup. Took me a bit longer to make the same realization, but then I didn’t have a fictional character standing before me.”

She started to bounce a little at the prospects. “That means the multiverse theory might actually be true!”

She’d mentioned that before, and he was pretty sure he knew what she meant by that, as the books in Gabriel’s office mentioned something along those lines. But, just to be sure, he looked at her confused. “Huh?”

“It’s a theory that for every decision you make, there's a world where you made a different choice and the fallouts of that choice. Many different choices, and many different outcomes. Going further into that theory, every story, every game, movie, what have you, might actually exist in some other world.” She explained. “And the people who create the story are actually glimpsing another universe.”

He shuddered. “I certainly hope not every story, there are some that should never exist.”

"Yeah," She conceded, "You have a point there." Then she continued absentmindedly. "There's more sciencey stuff to it that I don’t understand personally, but that’s what I took away from the theory. I could be wrong, and it could be another theory entirely that I’m thinking. However, I’m not sure, I was never good with science or its advanced theories.”

“I have no idea either,” he shrugged. “I studied magic, not theoretical science.”

She giggled, imagining the great wizard Harry Potter, quitting magic to study science. “Arguably,” She said with a grin, “Magic and science could be considered the same thing, or similar anyway. Isn’t that one of the things the Department of Mystery studies?”

He thought about for a moment then shrugged. “It’s possible, but I can’t say for sure one way or the other.”

She just smiled in answer.

Before he could think to stop himself, he found himself taking another step toward her. He couldn't help it, she was so beautiful and so naive about the truth surrounding them. He wanted to help her, wanted to touch her. Didn't have to be sexual, he just wanted to be near her. Even if he wanted to hide his feelings, emotions, when strongly felt, were compelled to be acted upon. Which is probably why his temper here was legendary.

He had thought this fact to be a benefit, now he wasn’t as sure.

“If I may,” Mal said looking down and stepping toward him as well causing his heart to skip a beat. At least, that’s what it felt like, as he was made of soul, instead of matter, there was no way for his heart to actually beat. Maybe his soul pulsed? “You look similar to what I thought you would look like.”

“Oh?” He asked with a raised eyebrow amused. “And the actor for my character didn’t match this visage?”

She shook her head. “Not at all.” She laughed. “He seemed too tan, and his hair wasn’t dark enough, not to mention,” She looked up into his eyes. “He didn’t have the emerald jewels that you do.”

He had to gulp at that. His eyes had been called many things to his knowledge, but no one had ever said that to him. He knew his previous wives may have said something along those lines, but once the potions left his system, any conversations he had with them, and others, seemed like a blur. He knew in a general sense what was spoken, but not word for word what was spoken.

Before today, he felt like his eyes were a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, they came from his mother, to threw out the laws of magic to find a way to protect him. She succeeded, and they were a memento of her. On the other hand, they were the same color as that blasted killing curse. The curse used by a terrorist in the Wizarding World, taking so many lives. Including that of his parents.

When his eyes were mentioned, it was to point out either of those facts. A show of power, in the future. However, when she said that, it felt like a compliment. A rare and true compliment on the color, with no comparison to his mother, the killing curse, or his power levels.

“Thanks.” He found himself muttering.

He did look exactly like she imagined. Tall, black hair, emerald eyes. Though his physique was filled out and he didn't need his glasses. If she had to take a guess, it was because of the Horcrux being gone and this is what he should have been like all along.

"Did you really need glasses?" She found herself asking, "Or was that because of the Horcrux?"

"Combination of the Horcrux and limiters that Dumbledore placed on me." He sighed. Finding himself answering honestly, without even a hint of trying to downplay it or evade the question. “So I would look like a carbon copy of my father.”

“I suspected as much.” She nodded. “Does that mean you’re a metamorphimagus or were you a good mix of both parents and Dumbledore locked a glamour on you as a baby?"

Harry huffed, "I have no idea about the metamorphimagus thing. There are some things that I can only learn as a mortal apparently. Or circumstances must be dire for me to learn about them here.” He shrugged. “From what I gathered from Gabriel, yeah, I was a perfect mix of both parents, but Dumbledore locked me into a carbon copy of my father. Maybe it was glamour, maybe I am a metamorphimagus.” He shook his head, “I have no idea.”

“Indulge me here for a moment,” Mal said raising her finger, “But magical healing is a lot more advanced then muggle healing, right?”

Harry nodded, “From what I’ve managed to learn and retain, yes.”

“Then how come your father needed glasses?” She asked confused. “Wouldn’t have magic been able to heal that, and yours as well?”

“My father was involved in an accident as a child.” Harry frowned. “I asked similar questions when here in my previous times. Gabriel was able to answer some, that’s when I learned there are some things I have to learn as a mortal. Apparently, he was in the potions lab or something, and he had a bought of accidental magic and got an experimental potion in his eyes. They managed to save his eyes, but he was forever in need of glasses because the damage to his sight was irreversible. Similar explanations were made in my case."

“Or that your father’s condition was made hereditary, and served as a cautionary tale about potion safety or banning the potion before it was able to make changes.” Mal said shaking her head understanding.

Harry shrugged, neither confirming or denying her theory as he had absolutely no idea. However, it was a sound theory, even he couldn’t refute that.

Seeing that he looked forlorn, Mal decided to change the subject. Hopefully to something with a little humor.

“Hey, not to be racist or anything,” Harry’s eyebrows quirked at that, understanding that nothing good usually followed that statement, “but later blogs, and a few fanfictions have Hermione has half of the Black family, Bellatrix being her mother, or as a werewolf, or sometimes they even have her as a kitsune,” at his confused look at that she explained, “cat ears and a tail with the senses of one because of the Polyjuice potion in your second year.” Mal paused for a moment, then met his eyes, “Is any of that even remotely true? I realize that the Black family thing probably isn’t, but what about her being a werewolf having been bitten by Remus in 3rd year, or half cat because of the Polyjuice potion?”

“No.” Harry laughed, “You’re dead on about not being a Black. Bellatrix would have slaughtered Hermione in her crib if she was inferior to the standards of the Death Eaters and Voldemort’s. As for the werewolf, and half cat, kitsume-thing, you mentioned, not a chance." Though he stopped and thought about it, remembering something, "I think, if we hadn't immediately gotten Hermione to Pomfrey that night, and waited as she wanted, it would have been a permanent change. However, if that happened, she would have been expelled and sent to the DOM.”

“Sorry forward thinkers,” Mal mumbled to herself. At his confused look, she shrugged. “People wanted her to be a werewolf or the half cat, so there was a reason for her to advocate for the rights of other "half breeds" or such things." She sighed, and looked at him, "What did she look like, and Ron? Did their actors do them justice? Wait, have you ever seen the movies?"

“Yes,” Harry chuckled. “I was curious, and Gabriel indulged me a bit of a break from rebirth. I was left wanting as far as the storyline goes." He took a breath and recalled the people who played the golden trio in the films. “Ron's actor was spot on for the most part. He was taller than me, or at least, bound and weakened me. If my true self had been allowed to emerge, I would have been taller than him. Height and the red hair were about all the actor had going for him. I believe a certain, singer, Ed Sherman or something, comes close to the facial features of the true Ron, but even then, there’s still an obvious difference.”

“As for Hermione, no, the actress and the real thing were completely different. The first film, go close to the hair, not bushy enough.”

“Interjection,” Mal raised her hand to pause him. “Have you by chance, seen a music video call Lady Marmalade?”

Harry threw his head back laughing realizing where Mal was going with this, “Yes!” He finally managed. “Yes! Exactly, that’s exactly what Hermione’s hair was like, but brown instead of blonde.”

Mal shook her head, “To have the curse of that kind of hair as a young child, no wonder she had self-image issues.”

“Anyway,” Harry said getting back to answering her question. “Hermione was tanner than you are. Not really bronzed skin, but close enough.”

“Again, sorry forward thinkers.” Mal sighed, at yet another quizzical look from Harry, Mal sighed again, “People began to say that she was actually black, or African American.”

Harry shook his head, “Nope, she wasn’t black. One thing worth mentioning, along with very frizzy, she also had freckles. Far more than Ginny as a matter of fact.”

Mal nodded. “Ah,” then she looked at him skeptically, “Freckles?”

“Yeah, everywhere.” He assured her.

She got the feeling that he didn't want to talk about Hermione anymore, there was a bitterness in his tone that was unmistakable. Like the one, she got when talking about her ex-husband. As much as she wanted to know, and surprisingly, she was able to hold back the prying questions that popped into her head. Maybe it was because of the understanding she had about bad marriages/ breakups. So she abandoned the topic of women around Harry with surprising ease.

She tried to think of something else to talk about, and there was really only one thing she wanted to know more about. “So, what about the other worlds? How do they work? Do you know much about them?”

He scratched the back of his head, wondering how best to explain everything. After all, things such as this were never actually explained, they were read about in books. When people did try to explain it, nothing could come close to the actual description. “I could explain it, but I wouldn't do any of it justice." He gestured to the books, "I suggest you read the books if you get the chance. They go into a lot of detail and explain everything a lot better than I ever could. A lot better than any angel here as a matter of fact, except perhaps the Arch Angels.”

“I would love to read them.” She looked back at them and sighed. “But, it would be rather rude to read them with you right here. I tend to tune out the world when I read.”

He chuckled. “Same here. If it would help encourage you. God, the almighty being wrote them.”

She bounced a little with anticipation before sighing. “No, it’s better if I don’t. If I start, I want won't want to stop, and I'd rather sit and talk with you if that's alright."

His cheeks burned, and he sincerely hoped they weren’t red. He only blushed when he was a teenager. “I wouldn’t mind that at all.”

“So, just a recap,” She said holding up a hand, “We’re from two separate worlds,” he nodded, “and they are just two of many,” he nodded again, “Have you ever met God?” She blurted out the question at the end.

He laughed and shook his head. “No, Gabriel said God can only be seen by powerful beings such as the Arch Angels. Regular angels can, but they wouldn’t understand a word that God is saying to them. But God rarely shows up among the lower masses. Apparently, Michael is always with God unless he’s needed elsewhere, and Gabriel and Lucifer have to go to him at God’s temple. God doesn’t leave the temple, ever.”

“Huh,” Mal said then looked around with her hands on her hips. Then she noticed the couch. “Do we have to stand the entire time, or may we sit?”

“Yeah! Sorry!” He said looking at the couch feeling guilty for not having thought of it before. “Why don’t we sit down, I think you might like the view. Considering your focus on me and the books, I’m pretty sure you haven’t seen it yet, or at all, considering the way Rida sheltered you.”

He’d been proven right, the minute she saw the view beyond the window all else was forgotten.

Mal couldn't pull her eyes away and she was vaguely aware of Harry leading her to the couch to sit down. She didn't care at that moment. He could have led her to prison and she wouldn't have noticed with a view like that.

A vast expanse of space that was dominantly midnight blue surprisingly had sections where it faded to pastel blues, pinks, and lavenders in sections. The stars looked like diamonds floating in the sky, they were also big and bright. Not the far away little dots in the sky one saw on earth. Surprisingly, there were clouds, and in a variety of colors that floated serenely by. Others stayed stationary in one place. What caught her breath when looking at them was that several were spiraling together to form rainbow tornadoes all over the sky.

The stars, planets, from what she could tell, entire cosmos were doing the same thing. Floating by, stayed in one place, or were spiraling together in an intricate dance she couldn’t even begin to understand.

She was captivated, and tears rolled down her cheeks at the beauty of it all.

“How,” She croaked, cleared her throat and tried again. “How can you pull yourself away from such a view? I’m not much of an artist, and I’ll never remember this view in my mortal lives if things go similar to how they were in past, which is probably a good thing, or I’d have worked tirelessly to recapture this. Though the majesty would be lost somewhere along the line.”

“It would be a worthy pursuit.” He said softly. “I for one think you could do it.”

She laughed bitterly. “If you ever saw my pathetic attempts at art before you wouldn’t be saying that.”

“Practice makes perfect.” He grinned.

She couldn’t help but laugh, “Yeah, that’s true I suppose.”

They sat in silence for an innumerable amount of time, just watching the view before them. Mesmerized by its beauty. Mal never noticed, but Harry would look back and forth between her and the view beyond the window. She was too caught up in the artwork before her to really notice anything else.

“I was once as captivated as you are now.” Harry said finally breaking the silence. “I’ve also wished that I had even an ounce of artistic to attempt to recreate this. But alas, all of my talents lay elsewhere.”

“I imagine so.” Mal said softly. “Flying was always your talent to my understanding. I’m sure there’s more you’re great at, but that’s the only thing I can think of right now.”

Harry chuckled. “Your encouragement is endearing.”

“So you’ve seen this view every time you came here before?”

“Yes.” Harry affirmed. “Now I can honestly say that this view is now a close second something else.” Harry found himself admitting. Not for the first time he was cursing the fact that this place permitted only truth.

There were loopholes, such as the case with Rida, where she repeated what she believed was true. But it did not echo with ethereal magic that gave the others a sense of trust in Purgatory. He was sure it was this reason that Mal was able to rebel against her, and not believe the religious clout that her family in the mortal world quoted.

Whereas his words just now, echoed the truth of his heart. Something he had long since buried and thought was dead because of the events in his various lives.

Mal shook her head, feeling foolish for staring absent mindedly for so long. “I’m sorry for being so distracted. It’s rude to ignore a person right in front of you. At least that what I was always taught growing up, in all of my lives.” She looked at him and smile brightly. “Tell me about your lives, what was magic like? How does it compare to being a muggle?”

Harry looked at her amused. Surprised that his slip of the tongue went unnoticed by her. She was as lost about romantic advances as he was? Is that why she didn’t notice? Or was she not feeling the same as him? Couldn’t be the last one, at least he hoped not, she did ask about his lives. Knowing there were more than one. Did he ever mention there was more than one?

Before he could answer her questions, a mortified look came across her face, and she scooted back a bit waving her hands vigorously.

“I am so sorry!” She explained, her low tone matching her expression.

This, confused him a great deal. Not that he could lie in this place anyway, not even in his own mind. Could it be she asked what was in her heart as he had? Said the first thing that came to mind as he had?

"I tend to ask things without thinking." She said quickly, babbling to cover up the mistake that she made. She couldn't believe she had asked that! That was the height of rudeness on her part. Even in the canon books, Harry Potter didn't like nosy people and she was being nosy! God, she hoped he didn't hate her. "It's a problem, and I've been working on it. I thought I had gotten the hang of it in life, but it appears in this place that's not the case! Why I did blurt that out like that!? That's not like me."

“We can’t lie in this place.” He said candidly. “More than once I wanted to tell Gabriel and the others “I was fine” when in fact I wasn’t, what ended up coming out was something along the lines of I wasn’t fine, but that didn’t fucking matter, I wanted to be left alone.”

“Sounds like something I would say regardless of being forced to say the truth. And have on occasion.” Mal giggled. “I knew about the truth thing, I figured that out while being Rida’s charge. Still, even here I was able to curb blurting out what I was truly thinking and feeling. I wonder if not being around her anymore, feeling safe has affected that ability I gained.”

“It’s possible.” Harry concluded. “This place is designed for souls to feel safe, and express what they think and feel. Vent it all before going back to the next life as it were so they can live with relative peace in their souls.”

Mal looked away for a moment lost in thought. “I wonder if that’s why depression is so bad in my world. Because of what Rida did, combined with souls not venting, or being unable too, they go back to their mortal shells carrying their previous lives pain and anger.”

That was actually an excellent theory he mused. He knew of the world she came from, as that's the world that had the books, movies, and various other things that carried his name and was a worldwide favorite. Rida's manipulations would certainly have contributed to its state. Because souls had to repeat their lives until they got it right, just like him, and just like Mal was being forced to, even if it had been wrong. Widespread depression would be the least of the problems contaminating that world. He knew of depression sure, but comparing his world to hers, depression didn't afflict people in his world as it did hers.

It was one of the things he'd looked into while waiting here after some of his lives before. He'd like to think it was his research that led to Gabriel and the others investigating that world and the guardians for that world's souls. Which led to the discovery of Rida's wrongdoings. However, as of this moment, there was really no way to know for sure. He'd likely forget to ask anyway.

Harry found himself looking back at Mal, who was once again staring out the window and was completely captivated by her. He wondered if she noticed the midnight purple she had dyed her hair slowly faded, and in its place was different than he’d ever seen before. Three different colors grew from her head, all mixed together as it wasn’t sections that were different colors, but rather the individual strands. One, was a darker red than the Weasley families, an umber brown, and a shade of black deeper than his own. Ebony he thought the color was.

Genetics was a funny thing, he mused. She wasn't the first person he'd come across with different colors in the hair strands, however, she was the first to sport three different colors in them.

Her hair was still thick, with wave and ring curls at the end. Ginny, he remembered, did everything she could to get the waves or curls Mal sported naturally, whereas Hermione attempted to tame the bushy nature of her hair, making it look thick instead of bushy. How ironic that he'd be attracted to a mix of what Ginny and Hermione tried to achieve individually.

Still, they didn’t come close to the beauty before him. Mal looked like a warrior princess in the loose shirt and tight pants she was wearing. The black leather style jacket and shin high tight boots didn’t help matters with that image.

He thought about all of the other women he’d ever met. Even the Veela he’d seen and spoken to. How was it, that none of them, had him reacting to them the way he was now with her. To make matters worse, or better, depending on how one looked at it, the more they talked and were around each other, the stronger his feelings became.

By Mother Magic, he wanted to strip her down and taste every inch of her. He quickly turned his thoughts away from that line of thinking before he said something like that out loud. Though considering she worked as an exotic dancer, it would probably be something she’d heard before, and he didn’t want to sound like those men from her world. Like all, he wanted from her was her body. Not when it was the soul and everything that came with it that he wanted.

Changing his thoughts, he admitted to himself he was more than a little shocked by her trusting nature. Even people back in his own world had a hard time trusting him right off the bat. Even Luna, and she was the most open-hearted person he’d ever met. They wanted the “Boy-Who-Lived”, not Harry. And when he was around them, they didn’t know if they could trust him, because they didn’t know who he was. The “Boy-Who-Lived, Gryffindor Golden Boy, Dumbledore’s Boy”, was who they saw, and many didn’t trust him because of that alone.

No one had ever trusted him so absolutely and followed willingly as she did when she left that room with him. Even after learning who he was, that didn’t change. She didn’t see the any of that crap. She saw Harry, a boy who suffered, a man who died because of that life. It was only natural she’d be curious about him. The real him, and want to know the truth as it was to him.

More than that, he as happy about it! He didn’t question it, he welcomed it. He felt like if she refused him back in that room when Tarnok suggested she come with him, he would have begged her to do as Tarnok said. He could try to convince himself it was because he didn't want her to be left alone in that room. But in his heart, he knew that wasn’t the case, and she wouldn’t have been left alone. She probably would have been surrounded by the black wings, and that left him feeling jealous. Odd, but in an exciting way. He never felt this way. Not in any of his mortal lives.

He found her eagerness to learn, about Purgatory, the angels, and him, endearing. She wasn't pushing about it, demanding as he knew certain women had been in his lives. Ordering and demanding information even when they had no right to, or no business knowing what they were asking about. Mal had been calm, and patient. Which he greatly appreciated and adored about her.

He knew her questions were inevitable, hell he had a whole list of his own, and he wondered how they would come out. He expected them and spent the time while looking at the space beyond them pondering on how he would answer, when he wasn't staring at her, and when his eyes didn't fall to her chest. For the first time in his soul's existence, his mind went blank when staring a girl’s chest. His teenage years didn’t count, that was natural, and it was rare to see a developed chest at Hogwarts because their robes were not flattering.

He enjoyed breasts, and he looked at them, he was male after all. But Mal's were the biggest he'd ever seen, and he'd seen Susan's double-D's back in Hogwarts when he'd walked in on her and Neville naked in the greenhouse once. Mal's was creamy white from the cleavage he could see peeking through her shirt. He’d also seen a bit more than that when he watched her dance.

Again, he had to force himself look back at her eyes. Looking at her eyes, he could easily forget about her body and that it made him ache for his mortal form back. Those ice blue jewels made him think he could stare into them forever and never get bored.

Looking at her now, hearing her apologize, he never expected that when she'd ask about him, she'd immediately backpedal and apologize for asking about his life. Asking about him and questions that anyone in her place would be asking. Probably more forcefully and with a higher amount.

He had no doubt he would have answered her questions regardless because she asked them. He was surprised that he wanted her to know about him, he wanted her to know everything, he didn’t want secrets from her. Again, odd, but exciting at the same time. He wanted her to know about him, and he wanted to know about her.

Thus far, both in the mortal realm and the afterlife, she was the only person to inquire about his past and then withdrew. The fact she did it affect of immediately was astonishing. Everyone else had to be dragged away from him by Gabriel or Satan.

At that moment, he was resolved to answer all of her questions, but, for a price.

He gently took hold of her chin and tilted her head up so she was looking at her. "I'll tell you about me, all of it."

“If?” She prompted nervously. She might be naive at times, but she wasn’t stupid, she thought to herself as she stared up into the emerald green eyes that seemed to glow slightly.

Whether in amusement or power, she wasn’t sure.

He chuckled and grinned. “If you tell me about you. We can ask our mutual questions along the way. What do you say?”

She cringed but nodded. "Yeah, sounds fair."

He already knew that her lives were riddled with abuse has he had been, he wondered to just what extent. Considering she agreed, he knew he was going to find out, and he had a sick feeling in his stomach, that he wasn't going to like it.

Mal still looking in his eyes, could see the pain in them, and she wondered just how bad his own life or lives had been. The canon of Harry Potter implied a lot, but the fanfiction went into a lot of detail. She wondered if there was a mix between the two, or if it was something else that she’d never even thought of.

“So where do we begin?” She asked softly.

Harry sighed as he released her and sat back. “I guess, we start with our deaths. Going from the first to the end, and our lives leading up to that point.”

She nodded, “Makes sense. So, who goes first?”