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

Harry sighed as he released her and sat back. “I guess, we start with our previous lives, and talk about 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?”

Well, Harry made this deal, he supposed, it would only be fair if he started the ball rolling. “I guess I can go first.”

“Before you start,” Mal said raising a hand to stall him, “why such a dreary subject, wouldn’t you like to know about my hobbies and such?”

He chuckled, “Yes, but we can learn about that any time, can’t we?”

She gave a bob of her head as agreement. “It does seem a very mortal troupe. We’re certainly not mortal right now.”

“That we aren’t.” He nodded.

“I think I can your point.” She said after thinking about it for a moment. “Is there another reason for this, for this, purge?” She tested the word as she spoke it, then nodded in affirmation that’s the word she wanted to use. “Why are we purging about our lives?”

“We’re supposed to purge before we go onto the next life. Something I’ve been neglecting to do, and I’ve been chewed out for it more than once. I knew, one of the conditions, if I do get what I want this time around, is that I will have to purge all of it.” He sighed. Then fixed her with a knowing look, “I take it you haven’t purged out your grievances or even talked about your previous deaths with anyone?”

Mal shook her head. “Rida didn’t see the purpose of going over “my failures”. She said to get over the wrongs and go to the right. I wasn’t even aware of this until you said it.”

“Figures.” Harry scowled. “For me, I just didn’t see the point.”

“That was a lie.” Mal said in a soft knowing tone.

“Not a lie, but not all of the truth.” He agreed, “I’m reluctant.”

“I assure you, this won’t be easy for me either.” Mal assured him. Hence the reason she was doing everything she could think of.

Harry chuckled. “Then I think it’s only fair since I’m asking you to tell all, that I do the same. Since I have to eventually anyway, I would rather it be with you.”

He said sitting back. “To that end, as I said, I can go first, my first death happened fairly early on and it’s a pretty quick story to tell.”

Mal nodded and sat back getting comfortable. Even if he said it was short, she didn't want to be on the edge of her seat looking impatient. After all, with the still lack of angels, she had a feeling they were going to be here for quite some time. Though, before Harry began talking, she wondered if that was the point of this?

“My first death,” Harry said slowly, “happened, as I’m sure you can imagine, that first time I faced Voldemort.”

“The end of your first year?” Mal was very confused. How much more had the canon gotten wrong. “I thought Quirrel couldn’t touch you.”

“Not then.” He shook his head. “October 31st, 1981.”

She looked shocked, but otherwise, let him talk.

“As you can imagine he cast the famous killing curse at me.” He explained, “However, he cast it as the first in a spell chain.” He looked at her worried, “Do you know what that is?”

She nodded. “Two or more spells cast simultaneously after the other in quick concession to weaken an opponent.”

“Very good.” He nodded. “However, as you can imagine, with Voldemort at the wand, it was meant for deadly purposes, he wanted to ensure that I was dead, and stayed dead.”

“Makes sense.” She said softly.

“The spell chain went the killing curse, the cutting curse, and Fiendfyre.” Harry explained holding up his fingers as he listed them off. “So while my mother's sacrifice did help the Killing curse rebound onto him, the cutting curse, as well as Fiendfyre, hit home."

Mal's tears fell, they weren't many, but they fell nonetheless. "The fanfictions," She gulped back the lump that was in her throat and tried again. "Since the canon wasn't clear about your mother's sacrifice, the fanfictions, and fan theories are that your mother dabbled in sacrificial magic so that in giving her life for you, you would be spared. One of my favorites had you immune to all mind magic, and that's basically what the killing curse is. It wipes the brain clean of all functions, even those automated ones that keep the body running." She met his eyes, "May I ask if that's the case with what actually happened?"

Harry grinned at her amused. “That I was immune or my mother practicing sacrificial magic?”

Mal wiped her tears and smiled inspite of herself. “The sacrificial part, obviously you wouldn’t have been immune.”

Harry couldn’t help but admire her candidness. “Yes, my mother did perform a ritual based on self-sacrifice. In a way, Dumbledore was right that it was my mother’s love that saved me, as she would have to have deeply loved me and died willingly in my place for the ritual to work, but he was wrong about the specifics.” Harry’s face and tone took on a dark undercurrent. “Not that the old wanker was one to shell out specifics.”

For a moment, he worried that Mal would become afraid of him, but instead, she bobbed her head before nodding. "Yeah, the fanfictions are not nice to him at all." Her voice took on a morose tone as she added, "If I could have been there, I would have helped you as much as I could have. Rules of time and space be damned."

He had to bite his tongue to keep from saying he would have loved to have her there. If that confession came out, he knew everything else he was thinking and feeling would follow that one out.

Mal grew rather self-conscious, though she knew there was no logical reason to feel this way. So far Harry had been open and honest with her, and she knew, at least to some extent, of the abuse he suffered later on in his life. She didn’t know why talking about her own lives and deaths made her feel like this.

She took a deep breath. “Well, there’s no beating around the bush, I was abused.” She said avoiding his emerald eyes. “A great deal. As I’m sure Tarnok may have mentioned.”

"He did." Harry said softly but otherwise kept silent so she could continue.

"There's a lot leading up to my first death," She said softly, looking at him now, "it will be a little bit before I get to how I died. I need to lay the groundwork for the specifics of how I died, as I'm sure you're wanting."

He nodded. “That is what I want, and I can assure you my first death was the most peaceful of them all in the fact that that’s the only I don’t remember. My second death will more than make up for however long this may take.” He inclined his head. “So too will a few more of my lives and deaths.”

“Okay, and thankfully, explaining this will lay the groundwork for all of my other lives and deaths.” She sighed and began talking with great difficulty. Doing her best to not look at Harry as she began. “I never told anyone about my true history. As you can imagine, Rida wasn’t much of a talker when I got here other than to insult me and usher me onto my next life. I’m not sure how I’m going to get through this.”

“As I said before, I’ve never told anyone the full truth about my past.” He admitted in the same grave tone she used. “What I could remember anyway. Only the Arch Angels and God know the full story of my life Mal.” He smiled softly at her, “At the end of this, you will be the only mortal soul who will know the true me.”

“Thank you for trusting me.” She returned his smile. “And thank you for humoring me in my stalling this and not rushing me forward.”

He took her hand and held it softly. “Oh, I have a feeling I’ll be in the same position you are in soon enough.”

His hand was cool and comforting as he held her own. She hoped he didn't mind if she didn't let go. She didn't want to let go. For the first time in her existence, she wasn't waiting for the respectable time limit before letting go and avoiding contact, (As had been her training to the point of instinct growing up) or worried that he wouldn’t want to hold her hand. In the past, she would let go and “not cling” as her husband had often accused her of doing. Harry held on and didn't show any sign of letting go, and she didn't want him to, and she had no intention of letting his hand go if he wasn't going to pull back.

She decided it was best to not think about it. After all, it wasn’t like anything was going to come of this. When this was all over, and she’d send her piece in the upcoming meeting with Gabriel, she would be ushered off back to her own world, and Harry would be going back to his own. Right?

"I think," She began softly, then continued with more volume. "I think the best place to begin, is before I was born." When she looked at him cautiously, he nodded for her to continue with his blessing, so she plunged forward unabashed. "My maternal side of my family belonged to a reclusive sect, almost a cult. They claimed themselves to be Catholics, but they were far too extreme and I don't think the Catholic Church and Monarch even recognized them. Even so, they claimed to practice Catholicism. They were extremely devoted and brutal to any who disobeyed the rules and were caught. Both Biblical and the Home. They were deadly to anything they viewed as an abnormality and they isolated themselves from those who were not of the Faith.”

Harry cringed, “Sounds almost like the Salem Witch Trials with the Puritans.”

A grave look came over Mal’s face that Harry did not like.

“You’re not that far off.” She said softly.

“My mother, Lauren, was one of fifteen children born to my grandmother.” Mal explained, sounding as if she was detached and reading from a lecture. She sounded apathetic to Harry, and in truth she was, she did her best to feel as little emotion as possible so as to get through this. “As such, she grew up neglected, abused, and was as brainwashed, sorry, devoted, as any other member of her family.”

Harry couldn’t help but chuckle at her slip up there.

"As all of the daughters in her family were taught growing up, my mother knew her future was either in a nunnery or to be married with lots of children." Mal said with a bit of disgust. While she had no problem being a stay at home wife and mother, being told that was all you were good for because you were a woman was wrong in her opinion. “As Lauren was not the type to sit still for long, be it in prayer or silent contemplation, it was a well-known fact among the family and masses she was to be another loyal, complacent wife and breeder to the man she married.”

Harry shook his head in disgust of his own. “Sounds like a certain loudmouth redhead matriarch I know.”

Mal nodded, knowing to whom he was referring. “But things changed for the worse when my mother started her menses.”

“And things hadn’t already?” Harry asked incredulously.

Mal bobbed her in concession, but otherwise made no comment on his remark as she continued. “My mother woke up in a large pool of blood when she was about fifteen. The sect had begun to worry that she wouldn’t develop a menses.”

“Why would they worry about that?” He asked. “By their overly religious logic wouldn’t that mean that your mother would have been pure in their eyes?”

Mal shook her head. “It would mean that she was sick and unworthy of children as they had already determined she wasn’t fit for a life of service to God. Women like that either disappeared or committed suicide. Though thinking back now I wonder much of those suicides were actually just that or something else.”

Harry really had no comment for that.

“The sect had gotten in trouble before when it came to exorcizing demons out of a girl who started her period in such a manner, or when she didn’t develop one within their time frame. Even more so when the authorities realized they never sought medical attention for the girls. So, reluctantly, my grandparents brought my mother to a gynecologist who diagnosed my mother Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome, or PCOS for short.”

Harry held up a hand to stop her and looked at her confused. "What the bloody hell is that? I've never heard of that before."

“No, I imagine you wouldn’t have. Rida made a passing comment that it was a shame that this affliction only existed in my world.” Mal smiled remorsefully. “Among the many symptoms are, along with cysts on the ovaries, that it causes irregular periods, heavy bleeding, it has been known to cause diabetes to the woman, but the part that is important to the story is that it makes it difficult to have children. There is a whole lot more that I’m not even touching on, but we’ll leave that alone for now.

“Some women, with the help of certain treatments manage to conceive a child or two. Some women who suffer from it, as my mother did, later on, manage to conceive with little effort. Just have very painful periods. In extreme cases, such as my own, the woman can bleed for a year, stop for a month, then start it all over again. And we’re not talking light bleeding either. We’re talking about going through a box of super plus tampons and thick mattress pads in under a week, along with the painful cramps that makes it so you can’t move, and other things I won’t get into. Anyway, I had to have a hysterectomy just to live a normal life. It was during this time, and using it as the excuse, that my husband cheated on me.”

“Tarnok mention that.” Harry growled. “He couldn’t wait till you were healed, did he even try to help you!?”

Mal shook her head. “I suffered from this for years. I took three years before I found a doctor that took my situation seriously enough to help me. My ex wouldn’t have sex with me if I was bleeding, so I had to please him in other ways, and apparently, I wasn’t as good as others he’d had in the past.” She sighed. “By the time the surgery was done it had been a couple months since I’d even him any relief. Then we were told no sex for eight to ten weeks, and he just kind of lost it.” She took a breath and stared out the window to beat down the feelings of betrayal and heartache that came creeping in. “While I had suspected affairs before, I had no way of knowing pedophilic tendencies.”

“Why do you say that?” He asked curiously.

“Because he cheated on, and later left me for a teenage girl who about half, maybe three fourths his height and flatter than a board.” Mal explained looking him in eyes. “That also wasn’t the only teenage he slept with. Apparently, he slept with her whole group of friends before landing on her and staying with her.”

If it hadn’t been for Mal’s slight smirk when she said that, Harry wouldn’t have laughed a bit at that. As it was, she grinned a little as he laughed.

“Anyway,” Mal said adopting her apathetic persona again. “Lauren did develop diabetes due to the PCOS at seventeen/ eighteen, I’m not sure which. Whether due to the PCOS, the brainwashing/ abuse, or both combined, she was both physically and mentally sick. This I can say with certainty; as she had very bad reactions whenever she was given bad news, which was pretty much always. She was warned by the doctors at this point that she shouldn’t have children, as it would cause her health in all aspects to greatly diminish, not to mention what harm to could do to the babies.”

“How did you find all this out?” Harry finally asked, unable to hold the question back any longer. “I doubt very much your family would have told you any of this.”

“Oh, they didn’t.” She assured him. "When things they don't agree with happens, they either pretend it didn't happen or consider it blasphemy. So obviously, they never spoke about the truth of my mother's ailments or health." Mal shook her head in disgust. “My good doctor found out about all of this during the third round of my one-year period in my last life. He found my mother’s original doctors, and they broke patient confidentiality to tell me. They felt my health and my need to make an informed decision was more important than protecting my mother’s “shame” I guess you could say.

“It was from there I decided what to do. My ex, he didn't seem to care, contrary to his parent's belief, he wasn't as devoted as they were, and neither was I, which is why we got along so well in the beginning. We married because I thought I loved him, and our families were pushing us to." Mal shook her head with a sigh. "When I came clean to my family about what I did for my health, I never mentioned that bit about the doctors because I swore to them that I wouldn’t betray their trust.” She shrugged. “But seeing’s as I’m dead, this knowledge can’t hurt them now.”

Harry nodded in agreement.

“Anyway, when I brought up the truth to my family, and how it was affecting me, I was beaten for it.” Before Harry could react, even having known this before, she shrugged again and moved on, “Since my lives seem to be on repeat, the same one over and over, just a few changes along the way, namely how I died, I figured it was the same in each life, and just applied the knowledge where it was needed.”

Harry squeezed her hand in comfort but said nothing aloud. Thinking he wished he could have been there for her after finding out such terrible news. Wishing he could have killed her family for treating her that way. Though, if he was feeling this now, he wondered just how badly he would wish to do that later on?

“My mother was sent to a nunnery, why I don’t know, but that didn’t work, it was from there she went to college. After one year, she came home engaged to Terry.” Mal curled up slightly as she talked. "Despite the fact that he was an outsider, they rejoiced. Since all other options failed, and by that, I'm assuming repentance through God or something like that, and no man in the sect wanted to marry damaged goods, they figured that Terry would be the answer to their prayers.”

Harry couldn’t but snort, and Mal nodded, “Quite right. I heard that a lot before my stepfather’s praises were sung. They would say that Terry was their hope, but it failed, my stepfather, however, he was the answer, Terry was just a stepping stone.”

Harry noticed the tone she took when talking about her stepfather. “What about your stepfather?”

Knowing he caught onto her hostile tone, Mal put a finger to her lips, “Patience, I’m getting there.”

“Now, no one told me this,” Mal said with a wave of her hand, “This is, merely my own theories, but I suspect that Lauren and her family told Terry that she “couldn’t have children”. While I did later have a chance to ask this, I never did, so like I said theories.” She sighed. “Still, Terry married her anyway, as everyone had hoped. He wasn’t devoted like them, asked questions they didn’t like, basically pointing out the inconsistencies and questioning their hypocrisy, he didn’t fall in line like he was supposed to. When they couldn’t control him, and realizing such a thing was futile, they tried another method.”

“They began belittling him.” Harry said knowing all too well how that went.

Mal nodded. "It had been my father's idea to adopt a child. My mother so wanted children, but believing they couldn't have any physical, he offered this alternative. The whole family and church were straight up against this.”

“Why!?” Harry asked appalled.

“Because children were God’s gift and punishment in their eyes.” Mal explained. “According to the adults, when God cast Adam and Eve out of Eden, he told them to go forth and multiply. He meant this as a punishment, but it was also their path for redemption. Children of the sect were raised with this drilled into their heads. We were punished for the sin committed by Eve, which is why we are baptized, and we girls have to have as many children as our husband demand because it’s the only way we can save our souls and our husband can be redeemed so we may enter the gates of heaven.”

Harry shuddered and shook his head. “I am so sorry that you had to grow up with that.”

Mal shrugged. “As Tarnok said, I never believed it. I never knew why, but I always felt that it was wrong.”

“Thank God for that.” Harry muttered.

“Miraculously, my parents got Andrew.” Mal smiled softly remembering. “A newborn whose parents were killed in a car accident the day they were bringing him home from the hospital. The family and church accepted him then. It had “obviously” been a sign from God.”

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. “Your family was all kinds of jacked up.”

“Oh, just wait,” Mal laughed darkly. “It gets “better”.”

“Oh goody.” Was his dry response.

“Andrew was two when Lauren got pregnant with me.” Mal explained after a sigh. “While Terry was euphoric, no one else, other than Lauren of course, rejoiced. They varied from smug “ha! Told you so” to “it was expected”. It became increasingly clear to my father he’d been lied to, by everyone, especially my mother. He'd been unaware of her diabetes until she was pregnant and the doctors told him it was imperative, she follows the rules and adheres to the limits or things would be worse. The joy and pleased reactions didn’t last long as Lauren got really sick and almost died delivering me respectively. After I was born, Terry wanted Lauren to get fixed so she could live a long, moderately healthy life with him and their babies. Naturally, he was met with Lauren’s violent reaction against it, as well as the family and church’s screaming fit against it.

“In their eyes, he was not only slapping their traditions in the face, but he was also basically cutting off her only means of salvation. He was being selfish, and stupid. She could have children, she was raised that she not only should but had to. His "radical thinking" of following the doctor's orders and believing in science was not welcome among the sect. By not allowing Lauren to have children, he was basically robbing her of her purpose in life, and if she couldn't have children, and she couldn't/ wouldn't devote herself to the services of God, then she was worthless and needed to be culled before others began to think they didn’t need to follow the sect’s rules.”

"That's what they told you." Harry said softly, looking at her with a new understanding. "The day you came clean about your health and what you did to ensure you lived a healthy life as best you could."

Mal nodded. “But back to my father, it was this “event” that put the final nail in the coffin for Terry. The family began to trash talk him behind his back more so than before, and before long, right to his face. Before long, the church got involved, and things spiraled out of control of there. Any fight they had the family and church would know about it and back Lauren, anything Terry said in confidence to Lauren was not kept and soon everyone knew. The divorce was inevitable, and while usually, the sect would exile the couple for such a travesty, the church allowed this divorce. They granted an exception for Terry and Lauren. Terry was not someone they could control, and he needed to go before he caused even more chaos. He wasn’t an official member of the sect so that was alright.

“When it went to court, no one was there to back Terry and speak on his behalf. All of his family was gone, and it was this community of “upstanding citizens” against him. The sect claimed that he was a mean drunk and beat on Lauren and the babies. They provided evidence apparently, what I don’t know, but it was passed in Lauren’s favor. While Terry’s life wasn’t ruined, it was forever changed. He was arrested and spent a few years in prison for “his crimes”. He moved to the west coast after he got out and never returned. I emailed with him back and forth for a little while after my husband left me, and that's how I got some more of my mother's history and my theories."

“At least you got to know him a little.” Harry said sympathetically.

Mal shrugged. “He stopped responding after I told him I was a stripper. Though now I suspect Rida may have had something to do with that.”

Harry knew what she wasn’t saying, “at least she hoped so.” Unable to help it, he moved in closer, wrapped his arm around and pulled her close. Soon her head was rested against his chest and his chin upon her head. Surprising, she didn’t resist him.

“I’m sure that’s the case.” He said softly, running his hand up and down her arm.

It was a trick that his wives had coached him on when they wanted comforting. It had been automatic in the past, fueled by the training and potions they gave him. This, was deliberate, his choice. He wanted to hold her, even before hearing about her past. Now, he did it because he realized she had so little of genuine comfort as he had.

“Now,” He said pulling back and fixing her with a playful glare. “You owe me a death.”

Mal couldn’t help but giggle at his teasing tone. He had actually let her talk and tell her story in her own time. She was surprised by his move to hold her and keep her close and comfort her, but she didn’t have any complaints.

“Shush.” She patted his chest. “Soon, getting close.” She settled against his chest as he didn’t seem to want to let her go and if she was being honest, she didn’t want him to let her go. “Back to life in the sect, with Terry arrested and the divorce finalized, with two babies, and no help, because of course, Lauren didn't work as her work was at the house with the babies, she lost the house she was living in with Terry. She moved back in with her parents so she had some support, and it was during this time, that men from the sect finally began to show interest in her.”

“Because now she had proven she could have children.” Harry rightfully concluded.

Mal nodded. "While Lauren was unaware that her "dates" were all set up by the Priest and her parents, everyone else was fully in the know and made no secret of it in the future. They even offered suggestions about candidates and their qualities that made qualified. Course even if Lauren had known she wouldn't have cared, but after her marriage to Terry, the sect thought it best that they play it safe, and set her up with their choice of husband for without her knowledge. Just in case she rebelled.

“So when Lauren was regularly dating and ultimately got engaged to a fellow sect member ten years her senior, Arnold Higgins, no one was surprised. Rather than rejoice, they all breathed a sigh of relief. Lauren was finally tied to a man of their faith, she had children, and was soon to have more. Arnold Higgins, whose first wife passed away without giving him children, was soon married to Lauren. Now he had a wife to take care of his home, and children that would see him redeemed and secure his place in Heaven. Lauren finally had everything everyone ever wanted for her. A handsome, “loving”, husband to provide for her, children of her own, and best of all, it was within the approval of the sect. She never had to leave the community again.”

Mal sighed, "However as she had been warned, with each child she had, Lauren got sicker and sicker. But the church, family, and especially Arnold expected her to have children and to please her husband whenever he demanded it. Which was often." Mal shuddered as she remembered. "I know that both from memory, and from how many kids’ mom had after she married Arnold. Eight more by the time I was ten. It seemed right after she had one kid, she was expected to have another right away. Which was the case with most of the families in the sect. It was rare for a family to have less than six kids before “God deemed the woman should stop”.”

Harry looked at her confused and she shrugged. “Basically, the woman couldn’t get pregnant anymore no matter how much the men tried, or menopause happened. It was like a competition for them. Didn’t matter what accomplishments their children had, or how they looked, what matter was the number of children the men had.”

Harry shook his head. And he thought the Dursley’s and the other people of Privet Drive, or the extended out of Surrey were bad. He probably would have turned out just as bad as Tommy boy if he had grown up like Mal had. Course, from what he was hearing, he probably would have been dead long before he was even able to attend primary school let alone Hogwarts.

“So, what happened with your stepfather and mother?” He finally asked realizing she’d gone quiet during his contemplation.

“After the eighth baby, mom found herself in the same boat as me.” Mal said softly, her head still resting against his chest so she wouldn’t have to look him in the eyes. “She had to have a hysterectomy. After my baby brother was born, there was a tear in the uterine wall, they couldn’t stop the bleeding and it just got worse and worse, and her uterus was too worn to be successfully repaired. To save her life, they had no choice to do that. The sect and Arnold were not given the choice, because no one was there, Arnold had work and the other kids to look after. A woman was expected to look after herself, especially when she was in labor. So the doctors had to make a decision then and there. By the time everyone found out, they had to grit their teeth and give thanks, but only to keep them out of the sect’s business.”

She swallowed back tears, knowing she had to get through this next part. She had to explain it so the groundwork was finished for the rest of her lives. "Neither Andrew or I remembered Terry, the only father we ever knew was Arnold. Though he never failed to refer to us as the bastard children of the outsider our mother was forced to bear and take into her home. To the outside world, Arnold seemed like the dream man; loving husband, handsome, devoted father, and an all-around good guy. At home, he was anything but.

"Arnold was hot and quick-tempered. He yelled at everyone equally. His solution to a problem was to hid hard, hit them all, and that would be the end of it." Mal gulped and ended up gagging before she could continue. "Added to that, he had a ferocious sexual appetite. If he wasn't at work or doing the seasonal yard work, he was in bed with my mother. Leaving the oldest female, me, to take care of things while they were busy doing “God’s work”, as Arnold coined it. I was treated no different than his biological children most of the time, but Andrew, Arnold merely tolerated. Any excuse Arnold got to wail on him, Arnold took it.”

“Did he beat you?” Harry asked in a low voice. Surprised that his desire to kill the man in the worst possible way didn’t show in his voice.

“He beat all of us.” Mal said candidly. “One of the things the church, the families, especially Arnold, expected was for the children to behave like perfect little adults. Three-year old’s were expected to have the maturity of a teenager. When it came to school, they had to have 4.0 averages. Anything less than that would see a child severely punished. For some parents, it was heavy chores, for others it was leaving them outside no matter the weather till they learned their lesson, for the rest it was beating till the lesson was driven home. Added to that, in Arnold’s house, I don’t know about the others, but I imagine it would be similar given the sect’s upbringing, as the oldest daughter I was expected to do all of that, as well as cook, clean, and take care of the children from a young age. I was shown how to do something once, and then I had to do it by myself.”

Mal’s eyes were watering remembering her past, while Harry was having to bite his tongue to keeps from shaking with rage.

“How bad was it?” He finally asked since she’d fallen silent.

She looked up at him and found the rage burning in those emerald green eyes. “I thought you wanted my first death?”

“Not at the expense of knowing what came before.” He shook his head. “I can sense that you’re glossing over certain details in the attempt to hurry along to your first death, and I don’t want that. I’ll tell you all, and I’ll do the same.”

“It’s not a good story.” Mal mumbled.

“Neither are my lives.” He argued back softly.

“Fair enough.” Mal sighed.

She did want to know about him, if he was willing to share, she didn’t expect he would agree to tell her everything if she agreed to do the same. In the end, she thought, if nothing else, this would be a good purge, something she never had the chance to do before, like he had pointed out, and it's not like either was going to remember any of this anyway. She was positive this meeting would be forced to be forgotten. While that gave her comfort when it came to him knowing her story, it hurt a little that she wouldn’t remember his. She thought at least one person deserved to know the real Harry Potter. Even if she wasn’t worthy of the honor. After all, he saves a whole world, she took off her clothes for a living.

“The earliest memory I have of all of my lives, and it’s consistent throughout each one, is being pulled up off the floor by Arnold by my hair and being tossed into my room. In my first life, I shared it with Andrew for a little while, before the door was closed and locked from outside. Arnold would come in a few more times and smack us both around because we were crying too loudly and “spoiling” the mood. I hid in the closet with Andrew. Now Arnold never hit hard enough to bruise, I’ll give him that. We never had broken bones or black eyes, so there was never any proof that we were being beaten. We tried to tell people what happened, but what we didn’t understand was everyone in the sect was of the same mind fame, and they always defended Arnold. They would tell him what we said, and Andrew and I were later “punished” for “telling lies”.

“One of the rules of the house was, “what happens in this house; stays in this house.” Wasn't until I was older that I realized this was a classic abuser technique to keep the victims quiet. Some people who use this technique don't think they’re doing anything wrong, but if the kids say something to the “wrong person”, it could paint the “perfect parent” in a bad light.”

Harry nodded, “I can understand that. There were a few people who had tried to help me in the muggle world when it came to the Dursley’s abuse. However, Dumbledore made them forget, or something, I’m not sure which.”

"In the fanfictions, he made them forget because he needed his weapon weak and mailable." Mal said automatically.

Harry nodded again. “Sounds about right.” Then he shook those thoughts off, this wasn’t his turn, this was hers. “Anyway, you were saying?”

“Pretty much, no matter what he did, Arnold thought himself a saint and the perfect father, he could do no wrong, and others thought the same. He was a pillar of the community, and active in a lot of areas. You needed help with something, Arnold was your man for the job. In the end, he didn't have as many kids as some of the other men, but he was considered among the best the sect had to offer.” Mal explained.

“He sounds similar to how Vernon saw himself.” Harry mused. “Though in reality Vernon never put any effort into lending a hand towards others. If a person wanted help, he directed them back to their own property or told them to hire help. He wasn’t a service worker.”

“How can a walrus ever see themselves a pillar of the community?” Mal snorted.

Harry threw his head back and laughed till there were tears in his eyes. “Oh, that was a good one, I hope I remember, at least in some fashion, to call Vernon that at least once!”

Mal grinned at him. “Happy to oblige.”

Harry tapped her shoulder in a mock slap while using his other hand to wipe his eyes clear. “Alright, enough stalling, please continue.”

“That’s pretty much it.” Mal said with a surprised look. “That paints what my daily life was like growing up. Though added to that once the siblings came, nothing was sacred. I loved it, they took it. They would get in trouble just to see me punished because I was supposed to stop it in Arnold's mind. Didn't matter that I was six, helping mama cook dinner, or doing my homework on the next floor; I should have known, I should have stopped it. Course it backfired all of the time, they were punished too. Still, even if they were, it was some kind of game to get me punished worse. Especially my little brothers. Once they were old enough to be influenced by the brainwashing/ rules, I was looked down upon, even by the other girls. They were fine as babies.”

“I know I’m going to regret asking this,” Harry muttered before he continued with a bit more volume. “Didn’t your mother ever help you?”

“No.” Mal shook her head. “Lauren often joined in if she could. She always had an excuse to do as little as possible and leave all the work to me once I was old enough to take care of myself in the sect’s eyes, which is like four or five. She was pregnant; she was sick; she had a baby to care for; she couldn’t take care of the others, that was my job. Course nine times out of ten I was caring for the new baby too because she was sleeping till Arnold got home then she was catering to his every whim.”

Harry shuddered at the image and Mal nodded and gave a shudder of her own. “Andrew helped whenever wherever he could. His job was to stay quiet, stay out sight, get good grades, and someday marry a daughter of another family belonging to the sect and be just as perfect as Arnold. If he was to redeem his soul and end up in Heaven, he needed to be at least as perfect as the lowest member of the community, some man name Roger Crete, and have as many, if not more, children than Arnold.”

Mal pulled back from Harry’s embrace, and he tried not to let that hurt him. But given the serious look on her face, she would back in his arms again soon, he was sure.

She didn't want to leave his embrace, but she needed to say this, and she needed to be looking him in the eye face to face when she did it. "The only other thing I need to explain before my death, and it affects my other lives as well, happened when my last baby brother was born, after my mom had a hysterectomy."

Harry folded his arms and gave her his full attention. Not that she didn’t have it before, but he was going to make sure she knew she had it right now.

“They named him Timothy after some Saint I think I can’t remember now.” Mal said waving that away so she could get to the important parts. “I was ten, and little Timmy and mommy came home, but she was worse than she had ever been before. She was bedridden, and people would come over, waking her from her regular sleep to yell at her. They called her less than a woman. Arnold would yell himself saying she should have just died while giving birth to Timmy. She was worthless now. He was horny, wanted more children, and she was unable to provide.

“One night, oh, about two, three months later, it got particularly bad. Officials from the church were there along with the leaders of the community and there was a lot of yelling from them to mom and she was just crying. The only time the kids were allowed on the first floor was to eat and say prayers afterward. I was allowed down to cook dinner, there were doors and they were all closed and the adults were on the other end of the house in the parlor. So I couldn’t really make out what was said other than the aforementioned insults. They were repeated a lot.

"That night, homework was done, kids fed and put to bed, house cleaned, the adults were still gathered on the first floor, and Andrew was helping me to bed. I was so exhausted I could barely move. I remember him covering me up, kissing my forehead, telling me he loved me and good night." Mal sniffed and had to swallow another lump. "Next thing I knew, mom was screaming in the doorway. She must have come up to give us all a good night kiss. The adults came up and she told them what she saw, I never knew what they were so afraid of till I got older."

“Which was?” Harry asked not understanding what the problem was with an innocent kiss between siblings.

“Incest.” Mal said simply.

“He was adopted.” Harry rebutted.

Mal shrugged. “No one wanted Andrew there, they were looking for ways to get rid of him since Terry left, and that just provided the excuse to do so. Like I said before, they were deadly to things they didn’t like, and they didn’t like Andrew. He wasn’t born there, and he was a reminder of Terry. Andrew was dragged away by the adults and my bedroom door was slammed and locked shut from the outside like it was every night.” Tears streamed down her face as she told what came next. “I could hear him crying, screaming, pleading with them to stop. But they didn’t. I heard chanting, sorry, praying, and the beating. It was loud enough you could hear it on the second floor. I screamed and cried so hard, but no one came. I prayed and cried and begged for help, but none came. I passed out on the floor, exhaustion finally taking its toll, Andrew's crying haunting my nightmares." She sniffed and looked Harry in the eyes, they also had tears in them. "The next morning, he was gone. I was expected to act as if nothing had happened, to not ask questions, I was to pretend that Andrew never existed in the first place. If I didn't obey, I was severely punished. All traces of him disappeared the next morning. I never saw him again, in that life, or in any other. He was only there for that first one."

Harry had to gulp back his own tears. “What do you think happened?”

Mal shrugged. “If I had to guess they killed him.” She met his eyes after wiping her own. “All legitimate routes of getting rid of him had failed, and they couldn’t abandon him as the state knew Lauren had adopted him. It wasn’t unusual for the unwanted in the sect to one day be there and the next to be gone, I knew that from seven years old. After a week of him not being there, it wasn’t hard to realize what they did. I was scared the same thing would happen to me, so I forced myself to move on.”

Harry shook his head a tear of his own rolled down his cheek. He knew how he felt when Sirius died, to realize that your big brother was killed as a child, and to be afraid that the same would happen to you, he couldn’t imagine that.

Looking at Mal, he realized there was a reason why he was so drawn to her. The same pain he felt, the same horrors he went through, she could relate to. She alone could understand him. He wondered if she knew that too, if not, how long would it take for her to figure it out?

“Now,” Mal said clearing her throat, relieved she finally made it. “That leads me to my first death.”

Harry got comfortable, he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to like what he was about to hear at all.

"Three years later, Lauren wasn't doing so good." Mal said sitting back herself. She wanted to be back in Harry's arms, but she didn't want to push her luck either. "For some miraculous reason, whether it was because she sacrificed Andrew, or something else, Lauren remained married to Arnold rather than disappearing. Doctors gave her a few more years. She refused meds that could help her live longer, and with her organs falling apart due to diabetes, it wouldn't be long before she wasn't alive anymore.

"It was at this time that puberty hit me like a freight train." Harry had to chuckle at her tone and how she manipulated her voice to be more masculine for the last part. "I went from a B cup to a DD over one summer. Course as you can imagine, everyone had a comment about it. Half of the sect said it was indecent, it was wrong. I heard whispers saying I was evil, tempting good and decent men to commit sin. Course that was the women. The men as you imagine were rather pleased and viewed me as a future breeder. I was already considered more beautiful than my mother, and with the way my body was developing, men were looking at me to be the next breeder.

“Early that fall, I was extremely sick. Between a high fever and the meds, I had to take or die, and the sect wanted me alive because I would serve a purpose one day, I was pretty out of it, and I was confined to bed till I got better." Mal looked out the window at the view and used the beauty and wonder of what was there to give her the courage to say the terrible thing that happened next. "Arnold came in one afternoon. Saying I was growing into a fine woman. An even better one than my mother. I was more pleasing to look at on my worst day than my mother was her on her best. Soon, he said, she’d be dead, and all he had to do was wait till I was legal. Then, he could marry me, and I could give him even more children. It wouldn’t be the first time it happened in the sect, and it wouldn’t be the last he said. Until that day, and since my mother was no good anymore, a little taste of what would be his, to train me up some, so he could last till then and I would know whom I belong to.”

Harry tensed as she continued, but said nothing.

“I was in and out of it as he played with my breasts. I was aware of his hand doing my panties between my legs, and I remembered him jerking off. I couldn’t see anything, and I could barely feel what he was doing. The fever had me so sick, I could feel the pressure of the touch, but that was about it. When he finished, he told me to take a bath to clean up.” Mal sighed and looked back at Harry, unsurprised to see the rage in his eyes that was making them glow. Though his face showed no emotion. “I didn’t, I ran to my mother instead. Being a foolish child, I was, thinking she would help me. I was still covered in Arnold’s “adoration”, and it was proof to my claims.” Mal shook her head, chastising herself again, “Stupid, idiotic child, even after everything I still hoped, but it was in vain. Lauren went into a rage, in a rare moment, she had some energy and strength. She began to scream at me and beat me, though given her state of health it didn’t hurt all that much physically. The damage was more mental and emotional. She called me a whore and accused me of stealing her husband before she was even dead and buried.

“She dragged me before Arnold, being sick I couldn’t fight, and confronted him about my accusations. They began yelling and fighting, and he backhanded me and I fell down the flight of stairs nearby for "telling" on him to wasted flesh that was my mother. He called her a walking corpse and of course he was going to make me his next wife. I was young and beautiful, and I could secure his place, both in the sect and heaven. If Lauren could give him eight kids, I could give him at least that, and he would soon have more than any other man in the sect.

“I could hear that from the bottom of the stairs. I crawled away as soon as I could move again. Somehow, I ended up outside, and my siblings who were coming from school upset that I got to stay home when they didn't, seeming me sick took advantage of it and kicked me out of the way. I landed the pool, how I don't know, but as soon as the cold water hit me, I fell unconscious and drowned soon after."

Mal broke down crying. Even when she was alive, she forced herself to never think about the past, to keep moving forward or she would break. Even in this place, she didn’t dwell on the past. Rida wouldn’t have let her regardless.

Harry wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer to him again till she was held tightly against him as she cried.

“I’m sorry,” She sobbed, trying to stop from crying. “I’m trying to stop, but I can’t.”

He kissed the top of her head and gently rocked her as he spoke. “Part of the point of this place, this purgatory, is to allow mortal souls a chance to process, accept, and move on after what happened to them. As I said before. You were never given that chance. I'll give you that now, you need this, and then we'll get to my second death."

She wasn't sure if it was his comfort or the power of Purgatory, but she sobbed and sobbed in a way she hadn't since Andrew was lost to her. Not since Arnold seemed to beat her tears out of her successfully over her lives with him as her stepfather. Harry was patient, rocking her gently the entire time. No words spoke, crushed tightly against his chest, never letting her go.

After an unknown length of time, she finally seemed to wind down, hiccupping a little from crying so much.

“How can I be this tired and still cry this much?” She wondered softly aloud.

Even if he wasn’t supposed to hear, Harry still explained. “You’ve never been in a safe place before, even in death. You were never given the option to rest, am I right?”

“You can sleep here!?” Mal asked incredulously.

Harry nodded.

Mal shook her head. “Rida always wanted me to sign the contract and get on with it.”

Harry shook his head annoyed. “A soul needs to rest. That is what souls do in Heaven, they are eternally at rest until they are either needed or wake of their own will. To my understanding, neither has happened yet. Even here, souls are given the option to rest and recuperate after each life before moving onto the next. Gabriel has always made sure to do this with me. Grant it my rests were rarely spent sleeping, but still have me that time.”

“I do want to sleep.” Mal admitted softly before looking up at Harry, “But I want to know more about you before I do. If I fall asleep now, I won’t wake till Gabriel gets back here I think.”

“Most likely.” Harry chuckled in agreement. “I’m tired enough to sleep myself, but I’m also in agreement with you.” He brushed a wet lock of burgundy hair from her face. “I want to know more about you before we do. I want you to know about me. So let me tell you all about life at Dursley’s.”

Mal rested back a little in his arms so she was still looking up at him as he spoke. Harry smiled down at her, relieved she was finally there and unwilling to leave him, happy about it too. He no longer questioned why he felt that way, it just felt right, and he was going to do what felt right. If nothing else, Purgatory had taught him, if it felt right, it was supposed to happen.

“Well, I was a baby for the first death, so obviously I don’t remember my first death, or coming here for that matter. Gabriel read me the file about it later on, once I was mentally old enough to understand this place and about life and death." He took a breath and continued. "I was put back two minutes before Voldemort's attack. This time, he didn't use Fiendfyre, just the killing curse, and a cutting curse. Because of the killing curse rebounding on him, his wand was an angle, and the cutting curse went above my head rather than at me and beheading me.

"To state for the record, since you laid down some groundwork, never in any of my lives, did I see my parents will, or even knew of its existence when alive. Here, I know it exists, but in the mortal lives, I didn’t. I don’t know what it says, but I know it’s there.”

“Why hasn’t Gabriel told you it’s contents?” Mal couldn’t help but ask.

Harry opened his hand's palms up, "There are some things that I, or really anyone, can only learn as a mortal. Besides," he said wrapping his arms around her again. "It's not like I would remember anyway."

Mal nodded in agreement, and Harry continued.

“Anyway, as I’m sure you’re aware,” Harry grinned at her knowingly, getting a smile in return, “Dumbledore dropped me on the Dursley’s doorstep in the middle of the night, and a rather hysterical Petunia found me.” Harry sighed and he looked ahead unseeing. “The next six years were everything you suspected, and worse. I was starved for days, sometimes weeks at a time. Particularly around birthdays and holidays. I worked as a slave, and if I did any of it wrong, I was beaten. If I was caught stealing food, I was beaten. I was beaten when Dudley and Vernon were bored, angry, or for special occasions. So pretty much every day, I was hauled out of my cupboard if I wasn’t already out and doing something and beaten.”

Mal held her hand on his face gently till he looked back down at her, she was scared to ask, but she had to know. “With just fists and feet, or did they, use other things?”

He leaned his face into her hand, closing his eyes, enjoying her soft touch. There was something caring about it, affectionate in a way he had never experienced before. There was genuine care in her touch, nothing possessive like he what he had experienced with his two wives before.

“They used whatever came to mind.” He eventually said opening his eyes looking back down at her. “Fists, feet, belts, iron fire pokers, in Petunia’s case a hot skillet with food still cooking inside or cooking oil. Anything and everything they could think of, they used. Petunia once broke of a vase that Marge gave her that she didn't like over my head, and later blamed it on me, which earned me a cane to back from Vernon as Dudley cheered him on.”

Mal looked at him horrified, and he wondered how she could be so mortified by this given what she endured. Still, he was touched that she cared so deeply. When she lowered her hand, his face felt a little cold in its absence.

“I take it Marge joined in too?” She asked softly.

He nodded.

“And Ripper tearing chunks out of your legs?”

“He did it right in front of everyone and I had to clean up the blood before it stained the carpet before I could dress the wound with a dirty dishrag.” He said apathetically.

A tear ran down her cheek. He resisted the urge to kiss it away, instead just wiped it away as he continued.

"I never had toys, only broken and partial things that I learned to splice together to make my own items. My favorite one, my only toy I ever owned, before Petunia found it while raiding my cupboard, was Luke, the spider. It was pieces of stuffed animals that Dudley ripped apart. Luke had the head of a raptor, body of a turtle, four legs and tail from a tiger, and three legs from a dog. I took the pieces and some things from Petunia's sewing kit that she never used, it was just there for show, and made myself a toy. I had Luke from when I was four until I was eight. I played with him, talked with him, and cuddled with him as I slept when I thought it was safe to.

“Petunia was looking for evidence of an ice cream container that went missing one day. For clarification, Dudley ran off it with, but of course, Petunia’s most precious Duddy-Kins was never even considered a suspect. She pulled everything out and found Luke under the loose floorboard and shrieked at the "ugly monster" she found there." Harry looked away spacey again and mused, "There was a time when I thought that was my name or freak. Never could figure out which one it was supposed to be."

Not liking the pain he’d been through, Mal smiled warmly and decided for a change of subject, even if just for a moment. “Luke sounds so ugly it was adorable. Just like pugs, the dog breed.”

Harry laughed, “Yeah, he was.”

“What happened to Luke?” She asked, “Did they throw him away?”

“Oh no.” Harry shook his head. “That would have been too easy, and wouldn't have taught me a lesson. Vernon burned Luke in the fireplace while Dudley and Petunia held me back and made me watch. I was then beaten for "ruining" Dudley's things and beaten again for "stealing" from Dudley and Petunia, before being thrown back in my cupboard for the next six days without food.

“I stopped carrying about objects after that, I stopped making toys for myself. What was the point if it was going to be taken away or killed?” Harry looked down at her with a shrug. “Course all of that happened after my second death, but it paints the picture of life with Dursley’s for you.”

“Go on.” She encouraged softly. Knowing there were more details he was leaving out.

Knowing what she meant he nodded and continued. “To explain more, every pet Dudley ever got died shortly after he got it. As Dudley was too good for chores, I was always the one that took care of them. He liked the animals, but they liked me a hell of a lot more than they liked Dudley. Then, Dudley being Dudley, and being jealous no doubt, made sure they were never around for long. I think the longest was for a week.

“The puppy he got he beat to death in his room. Despite the fact that Dudley was the one covered in blood, I was still blamed, beaten, and forced to clean up the mess. Dudley put the cat with her kittens that Petunia rescued in the microwave. The fish he dumped on the sidewalk to suffocate and cook in the summer heat. The birds he clipped their wings and threw them out a window from the attic using a slingshot.”

Mal could see it all in her mind, and she gagged. She felt like if she had been alive, she would have thrown up after picturing all of that. If nothing else because of the sheer evil that seemed to be inside of Dudley. Rather than get Dudley help, Vernon and Petunia encouraged it and allowed it to thrive.

“He sounds like a serial killer in the making.” Mal muttered.

Harry shrugged. “I couldn’t tell you one way or the other, but you might not be far off with that assessment.”

"The situation with my clothes is true enough if you go by the canon verse of my life." Harry said. "Only instead of a belt, it was a broken purse strap of Petunia's that I modified to hold my pants up. After beating on me for stealing it, she "let" me keep it so I wouldn't drop my pants and embarrass her in front of the neighbors."

“So it was one of those special occasion beatings that I mention when I met my second death.” He said looked down at her with a grim smile. “It was Dudley’s seventh birthday, and I dropped Dudley's piece of the cake. Which I should point out it was three-fourths of the damn thing, and the bloody thing was a four-tier cake at that!”

Mal shook her head. “No wonder he was the weight of a whale in one of the books.”

Harry chuckled at that before he continued. “They’d managed to break my wrist earlier that day while beating, sorry I meant celebrating Dudley’s birthday, on me, I mean with me. Magic had managed to heal it to a fracture by dessert after dinner, not that I knew that’s what was happening at the time, causing my wrist to be weak and the plate to fall because I couldn’t carry the heavy son of a bitch.”

Because Mal described the events leading up to her first death, and how she died, Harry explained what was done to him, when normally, or at least, going by his instinct, he would have glossed over the facts.

"In retaliation, Vernon took off his belt and began whipping me. When Vernon got winded, Dudley took over gleefully till Vernon was ready again. Cackling like a Disney villains does when they think they've won. When Dudley’s turn came again on the fourth round, he had a knife in his hand this time around, and he “tripped”, and the knife he was holding plunged into my neck.”

Mal gasped and instinctively reached for his neck as if to stop the blood, offer comfort, or check for a scar. She stopped before she touched him realizing how foolish that would have been.

He chuckled amused, took her hand and kissed it gently before he continued. “When I arrived here, Gabriel held me like he would his son, and comforted me. I didn’t want to go back, I wanted to stay here, in this peaceful place, with the captivating view, and the kindest being I’d ever met.”

“But,” He growled. “Destiny being the bitch that she is, I had to go back. I was sent right as I picked up Dudley’s piece of cake. Instead of a fractured wrist healing after a break, it was a sprained wrist healing after a fracture, and all it did was pain me some. So I was able to not drop the cake and the round of beating followed by the deathly stab was avoided. I spent the next three days in the cupboard. Only let out to do my chores or use the loo.”

“When did you start taking your adult form here?” She asked curiously.

"My third." He answered unabashedly. "You?"

“Rida actually fought to keep my child form present at all times here, or the age I was when I died.” Mal explained, “But after my fifth death, Rida was unable to keep my adult form at bay any longer. She was not happy about that, let me tell you. I had to listen to her rant and rave for what felt like years.”

“Could have been.” He said sympathetically. “Time passes differently here.”

Mal sighed, “To my second death then?”

He nodded. “It’s only fair.” He grinned at the end and she shook her head at his cheek.

“My second death follows right after my first.” She explained. “I survived the drowning, and told the doctors, and later the authorities the truth about how I got there, and what happened before that. As there was some DNA evidence behind my ear that somehow managed to not get contaminated, they had undeniable proof that Arnold assaulted me. They had the evidence confirmed within hours. Arnold was arrested, and I was sent home a few days later.

"My grandparents were the ones who picked me up and were supposed to take me home as my mother couldn't drive anymore and couldn't leave the other kids. They brought me to the basement of the church, where the Priest and the local nuns tied me to the bed. I was forced to go an exorcism. Because a "good man" like Arnold was arrested for such horrible things, I "had" to be possessed by a demon. My being sick "proved" that. I was fighting the vile thing within myself, and they were going to purge it from me one way or another." Mal took a careful breath as she continued. "My lungs were already weak from what we learned at the hospital was pneumonia and nearly drowning, to the point the incense smoke suffocated me within a few hours.”

Harry carefully pushed her out of his arms, got up slowly, walked to the side wall on the wide wall which held the door on the far side of the room, all the while looking eerily calm. Then, with a face contorted with more rage than Mal had ever seen before, he swung his right arm back and punched a massive hole in the wall they both could have walked through it comfortably. Thankfully there were no occupants in the next room.

Just as suddenly as he made the whole, Mal blinked and the hole was gone again. When he looked back at her that eerie calm look was back on his face.

“Is it normal to kick or punch holes in this place?” Mal asked when he met her eyes, “Or is that just your thing?”

While her attempt at a joke to calm him down was appreciated, it upset a part of him all the more. She was making light of what happened to her, and he couldn’t stand that. But then again, he’d done the same, and if the pattern held, would attempt to do the same in the near future with some of his deaths.

Still, even with a part of him being upset about it, a small smile cracked on his face, and he took a few deep calming breaths before going back to the couch where she was still sitting and waiting for him. He got comfortable and pulled her back into his arms and rested his head against her own as he drew comfort in her presence to finish calming down.

Mal was surprised by this move, but offered no protest and enjoyed being in his arms. It seemed he really did want to hold her as much as she wanted to help by him. It was also a relief, and a little alarming, to notice that she was actually calming him. While canon Harry wasn't really known for his temper, she'd read quite a few fanfictions where he was known for his temper and people did their very best to avoid getting on his bad side. Certain redheads and white-bearded old men withstanding from that of course.

She wondered if anyone had managed to calm him this quickly when he was upset before, but thought it best to not ask that. Instead, she rested her chin on his chest, allowing him to pull back and look down at her. “If this is how you’re going to react to my second death, then things won’t go well for us as we continue.”

“No doubt.” He agreed. “If it helps matters, I have a feeling you’ll be right where I was, reacting in much the same way soon enough.”

“You know,” Mal couldn’t help but smile and tease a little. “For all of your hatred of the subject, your skills at Divination are astounding.”

Harry took her by the chin, so he was looking into his eyes and nowhere else as he glared at her. “Bite. Your. Tongue.”

In response, Mal stuck out the tip of her tongue and proceeded to rest her front top and bottom teeth on it. Harry, wasn’t sure how to react to this image, inside, he was laughing, though his face pouted.

Mal proceeded to laugh, the look on his face was too precious to not laugh. Harry, even though he was being laughed at, grinned at the sound of her laughter. For a moment, he almost heard the twinkling of bells.

“Alright,” Harry said calmly the situation after a few moments, settling back and pulling her into him so she was resting against his chest, his chin once more on her head. “So now it’s my turn to tell a death. Now before I get to said third death, I need to explain a few things. Namely, my reaction to the Wizarding World, Hogwarts, and my experience with them. As well as lay the foundation for several people.”

“Stupid redheaded bints and a white-whiskered wanker?" Mal asked unamused raising her left eyebrow.

Harry found himself biting the inside of his cheek to keep from kissing that solitary raised eyebrow but chuckled nonetheless at her description. "Quite.”

Mal rested against him, smiling softly up at him to continue when he was ready. He was actually pining for and grateful he lacked a mortal body at the same time.

He mentally shook his head to focus on the story. “When the first letter came, directly directed to me, in the cupboard under the stairs, knowing details no one on the outside did, I was too shocked to have any kind of reaction at first. In my state of shock, I didn't hide the letter and Dudley saw me with it. Naturally, he snatched it away before I could read it and tattled to Vernon and Petunia. Their reactions, horror, fear, fury, you name it, it was there. Jealousy added in Petunia’s case. This intrigued me, and I decided I had to know what was in that letter.”

“But they refused to let you.” Mal said remembering from the canon and her own imagination filling in the rest.

He nodded. “The more they denied me right to the letters, more and more arrived, and he more eager and desperate I became. Likewise, the more frantic, desperate, and outright panicked Vernon and Petunia became. They were determined that I not know about magic or my true heritage, and I was determined to know what the blasted letter was and how it knew details I was forbidden to speak of, and no one outside #4 Private Drive knew of.

“When Vernon packed us up and ran away, the more intrigued I became. I realized now, he was terrified. I hadn’t been beaten since the first letter arrived. So whoever, whatever, was writing to me, scared the holy hell out of my relatives, and I was that much more eager to know who the hell they were. By the time we reached the shack, Vernon and Petunia were run ragged and paranoid in their panic, and I was desperate to know what was in that letter. Dudley just wanted his bed, his television, and his video games back.”

Mal rolled her eyes. "The fat whale needs a boot camp. Even in canon, I thought it was good for him to get away from all of that."

Harry smiled at her as he continued. “My first view of Hagrid, after he busted down the door of the shack mind you, was a very large being shrouded in shadows with a terrible storm behind him. I thought, Bloody Hell! Vernon and Petunia were right to be afraid, what came after us was a monster!” Harry then shrugged. “But Hagrid quickly proved himself to be very childlike and harmless.”

Mal snorted, she couldn’t help it. “Harmless?”

“Yes,” Harry quickly agreed. “I learned really quick, childlike Hagrid was, but when it came to his interests and creatures, Hagrid could be very dangerous.”

Mal giggled as he shuddered. "I always wondered what the Blast-Ended Skwerts were like."

“Nightmares.” He shuddered again. “I swear if I go back with my memories intact the first thing I’m going to do when he brings those things out is slaughter them all!”

“The movies made Hagrid out to be really sweet.” Mal said looking at Harry pouting a little. “Maybe it was because he was one of my favorite characters, holding onto innocence and light despite the darkness surrounding him, but I carried that over into the fanfictions. Even if he was eventually punished for his crimes, it was because Dumbledore painted a target on his back.” She met his emerald eyes, “Was it really all that bad?”

“Let me give you a list.” Harry seethed, not at her, but at the memories. “A Giant Cerberus, who wasn’t finished growing I might add! A baby dragon! An Acromantula, which for the record, was HUGE!!! We’re talking as big as a house huge! And that’s just the first two years at Hogwarts!”

Mal scoffed at the height description. “Surely it wasn’t that big.”

He raised his own eyebrows at her. “Were you there?”

“We’re getting off track.” Mal said with a wave of a hand knowing she couldn’t answer that question. “Back to it.”

"Yes, ma'am." Harry chuckled. Taking a breath, and smiling in spite of himself. "Regardless of all of the later events, Hagrid did what I thought was impossible up to that point in my life; he got me away from the Dursley's.” A grin appeared over Harry’s face as he remembered his first time in Diagon Alley. “He took me to Gringotts, and it was a beautiful, yet intimidating, place to see. Then we went shopping for all of my school things. While out, I got real food, real treats, and a pet of my very own. I worried about that at first, and I reluctantly explained to a disheartened Hagrid, it wasn’t that I didn’t want the beautiful owl, it was I worried about what the Dursleys,”

“aka Dudley.” Mal muttered softly.

“Yup,” Harry nodded, “would do about it. Hagrid assured me that the Dursley’s would not be killing this animal. She was smart, for one, and for two, he’d deal with them if they did.”

“Now, as I’m sure you know,” Harry grinned at Mal, “In the canon verse, Hagrid brought me back to the Dursley’s, after dropping me off with my school things and my ticket, where I stayed awkwardly till the start of school.”

“But that’s not what happened.” Mal surmised.

Harry made a face where his lips folded in and his eyes closed as he shook his head. “No, that is most definitely no what happened.” He growled, barely containing his rage as he continued, “We were sitting at the Leaky Cauldron eating dinner, resting after the trip and all of the shopping when a house elf dropped in.” Seeing the look on Mal’s face, before she could react, he grinned, “Yes, that’s the first time I ever saw a house elf, and Hagrid was the one who explained what they are to me. Dobby, while unique in his first impressions, wasn’t the first one that I ever met. But he never knew that, and I never had the heart to tell him otherwise.” Harry said with a shrug.

Seeing the rage coming back into his eyes, Mal wrapped her arms around him, and just rested against him as she stared him in the eyes while he talked.

“Hagrid and the house elf were in a heavy argument.” Harry seethed. “I’ll bet half of the damn alley heard it from the way Hagrid was yelling. Still, no one did a damn thing.” Mal’s hand rubbed his lower back and he took a deep calming breath which allowed him to continue without murder in his voice. “Hagrid did not want to return me to the Dursley’s. He wanted to bring me back to Hogwarts with him and raise me himself. Only a wizard by the name of Dumbledore wouldn’t let him. He was talking to Hagrid through the elf, hence the argument in public. Dumbledore said something about the wards, I didn’t know about the blood wards at the time.”

“Pardon,” Mal said and Harry gave her a quizzical look. “Are Blood Wards illegal, I think it’s mentioned in the canon verse that they are, but nothing more is ever said about them. In the fanfictions, writers rip it apart. Saying they’re illegal and wouldn’t have helped at all.”

“They are most definitely illegal and did absolutely no good. As you know of the prophecy, it should come as no surprise to you that Dumbledore wanted good ol’Moldyshorts to come after me. Even sent guards to watch over me. He basically gave the man a road map!” Harry tapped her nose with his finger as he started speaking before growling at the end. He inhaled deeply before saying, “But that’s a story for later. Continuing where I left off, Dumbledore was saying it was the safest place for me. Hagrid argued back about what the letter pointed out, and the clearly abused lad, being me. But Dumbledore wouldn’t hear of it.

"I was actually, legitimately scared then. The Dursley's was the scariest place I ever knew, and if that place was the safest place for me, I was scared to face the rest of the world. For the first time in my life, I wanted to curl up in that cupboard and never leave again. I found myself arguing back and forth about it in my head while Dumbledore’s elf and Hagrid were arguing.”

"Well, obviously you wouldn't want to go back." Mal said softly.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, in the end, I decided I most certainly did not want to go back to the Dursley’s. I’d rather be anywhere else, with anyone else. By the time I came to that conclusion Dumbledore had put his food down, and a rejected Hagrid went back to his meal as the house elf left. After the meal, which after that scene neither of us were really all that hungry. A rather reluctant, sullen Hagrid brought me back to the Dursley’s.”

“Now,” Harry repositioned himself and grinned down at Mal. “Picture this would you, a giant behemoth of a man, biggest one you’ve ever seen your life. Goes from being this jovial, easily pleased/ excited person, to looking like a petulant child having their favorite toy taken away from them after they did something wrong.”

Mal couldn’t help but giggle at the image.

"I'd seen mood swings before that, and I'd seen my fair share after that," Harry shook his head. "But never in all of my lives, has anything surpassed that giant bushy-haired man, covered with fur, throwing a tantrum after being told no."

Mal snorted and buried her giggles in Harry’s chest. It was only when she recovered that he continued.

“Once we arrived back at dear #4, Hagrid proceeded to put the fear of God in the Dursley’s, and for a moment, I thought they were actually going to start praying and attending church regularly.” Harry explained amused by the memory even now. “Due to his threats, and while under his meaningful glare, the Dursley’s moved me to Dudley’s second bedroom, and despite the fact that we already ate, made sure that Petunia, who made the rare dinner, gave me a proper meal.”

“Wait,” Mal held up her hand to stall him for a moment. “I thought they gave you the second bedroom during the delivery of all of the letters as a means to circumvent the letters.”

Harry shook his head. “That’s only in the books. In truth, if they could have kept me that cupboard forever, they would have.”

Mal sighed and shook her head. "Some people aren't worth the oxygen that they breathe."

“I completely agree.” Harry mused softly. “Getting back to the story, despite Dumbledore’s orders for him to hurry back, Hagrid lingered till I was tucked into bed. By him, I might add. Odd thing. The room barely fit him and yet he tucked me into bed as if I was his own son."

“It warmed your heart.” Mal mused with a small smile.

He shared in her smile and nodded. “Yes, it did.” He leaned in closer, “Course I found out later on, by that I mean while I was here, that Dumbledore had been furious with Hagrid for that defiance and henceforth banned Hagrid from seeing me outside of the magical community again until Dumbledore said otherwise." He laid back and sighed. "I was curious why that was the only time other than a few, later on, I ever saw Hagrid outside of Hogwarts, and Gabriel, being allowed to share only some things, was able to answer that question."

“How long till things went back to the way they were before?” Mal asked.

“About three days.” Harry mused. “Then they went back to treating me more or less the same as before.”

“Let me guess.” Mal said sitting up and glaring down at Harry. “A certain white bearded buffoon told them all clear, but let you keep the room?”

“Right on the galleon.” Harry said with a nod. “Course I only found out after my death and Gabriel’s telling me.”

“I take it they were happy to get rid of you for months at a time?” Mal asked that eyebrow raised again.

Harry nodded, then shrugged. "At least that was my impression. They did their best to conceal the truth from me, but they happily dropped me off at King's Cross station. Well, Vernon and Dudley were happy, Petunia was sulking. I thought at the time it was because she would have to cook and clean and take care of her own garden now. At the time, I suspected it so easy because one, they were already headed to get Dudley's surgery to remove the pigtail, and two, as you so eloquently put it, it got rid of me for months."

An evil grin came over Mal’s face. “You can’t eat for twelve hours before the surgery, right?”

He nodded.

“So Dudley couldn’t eat anything before then could he?” Mal grinned even more.

Harry grinned and nodded. “What wasn’t commonly known in the stories, is that this was actually the third attempt to get the surgery done. Dudley kept sneaking food and lying about it and when they gave him the drugs to make him sleepy he threw up on everyone. So they had to keep going back. To keep Dudley from eating anything the third time, they had empty out all of the food, hide it in the shed where Vernon kept a backup fridge and lock it up tight. Dudley was devastated. They had a huge meal at a buffet, then came home and Dudley wanted more, but he was told no. He wasn't told where the food was, and he kept looking for food. I was actually conscripted by Vernon to find all of the food in Dudley's hideaway places to ensure that. No one slept that night because of Dudley's wailing and tantrums, and Petunia's wailing and Vernon's yelling at her to not give in again.”

Mal cackled a little. Then looked at him morosely. “I wonder if Dumbledore argued with Vernon that he wouldn’t have to deal with you as much if you were at Hogwarts.”

“Probably.” Harry shrugged. “As much as Vernon hated magic, what could he do against Dumbledore if he said to send me to Hogwarts. Besides, Dumbledore needed a relatively competent Harry to face Voldemort.”

"What exactly was Dumbledore's plan anyway?" Mal asked softly, more to herself than Harry. "For Voldemort to kill you then for Dumbledore kill Voldemort himself once all of the Horcruxes were dealt with? Rather terribly done I might add."

Harry chuckled and grinned. "Getting ahead of the story, aren't we?"

Mal pursed her lips, and narrowed her eyes at him, but said nothing.

Not for the first time, Harry realizes how much he wanted to kiss her. Swallowing hard, he continued.

"I was thoroughly embarrassed and nervous walking through the station. Then I heard Molly's shouts and Ginny's responses."

“Didn’t you question that!?” Mal asked shocked, sitting up again so she was facing him with a look of annoyance. "It was obvious she was setting a trap for you to walk into!"

“No, I didn’t question.” Harry said with a shake of his head. “It never occurred to me to question her motives. Molly was all smiles and nice, and I had precious little of that in life so far, and I clung to it. Besides, Hagrid talked about the warm redheaded Weasley family a little while we were together. So when I realized it was them," he shrugged. "As I said, I clung."

Mal groaned and got up to pace. “Of all the dirty nasty tricks!”

“I quite agree with you.” Harry said leaning forward.

“Obviously!” She ranted. “A trap!”

"And it worked." He said. "You have to remember I was a child, and there were people being nice to me, how often do children really question that?”

Mal stopped and sighed, he didn't like that heartbroken look on her face.

“True.” She finally acknowledged, then sat down beside him again. “So, gold digging harlot Molly helped you onto the station.”

He laughed a little before picking up where she left off. “I was awestruck by the train even after getting on it. Added to that I was still reeling from the kindness and motherly affection Molly had shown me. When Ron showed up, I clung to that new friend. Though my first impression of the rather bushy-haired Hermione, which you have to remember, I'd met Hagrid, who also has bushy hair, the fact that I say she has bushy hair should tell you something. Anyway, my first impression was that she was a bossy know it all, who had to be right all of the time, and no one could tell her wrong. And that impression was proven right over the years. She hid her true nature for a little while, but not for long.”

Harry laid back and grinned, lost in his memories, and Mal liked that look on him.

“The first right on the Hogwarts Express was my first ever train ride, and I had such a great time with Ron. Laughing and bonding, almost like we were brothers, and yes, I latched onto that. As fun as all of that was, it was the first sight of the castle that took my breath away." He paused and pointed to the view beyond the window. "The only way I can describe how it felt seeing Hogwarts for the first time, is how it felt seeing this for the first time.”

Mal grinned down at him. "I can imagine it was life-changing for you."

“That it was.” He nodded. “I promised myself staring up at it that I would do whatever it took to stay there, and be the best wizard I could be.” He sighed looking out the window disheartened. “A promise I broke rather quickly, and had a habit of breaking after that.”

Seeing how hurt he was, Mal laid down his arms again, nuzzling his chest as his arms came around her and held her. “It wasn’t your fault.”

He sighed and rested his head against her own, “No, it wasn’t.” He agreed softly. “Apparently, I’d been dosed with loyalty potions from the start. It was just easier to fall in line and not try. Especially being unaware of the potions, and being unaware of them, I didn’t have the necessary forethought to fight them.”

“I understand that all too well.” She sighed. “Exactly how close to the start did the potions begin?”

“My first night there, during the opening feast.” Harry said with no emotion. “Keyed to Dumbledore and Ron. Which is why all of my mistrust and eventual hatred for Dumbledore never surfaced again. At least until the hunt for Horcruxes, but that’s for later.” He enjoyed the little pout Mal gave him before it disappeared from her sweet face. “It’s also why I was the understanding friend and forgiving friend whenever Ron was a righteous arsehole and didn’t deserve it.”

“Dumbledore couldn’t take the chance where his weapon was concerned.” Mal mumbled, and Harry nodded having heard. “What about Hermione?”

“That came later.” He said firmly.

She knew not to push the issue then, and let him tell the tale in his own time. He wasn't mad at her, she could sense that it just wasn't time to tell this part yet. She sensed something bad happened with Hermione later on. As she didn't want to rush him, she waited till they got to that point.

“The halls were beautiful old stone faded a dull gray over time, with marble for the rest of the time, and all of it was alight with the glow of candles. Everything was decorated for the opening feast and the arrival of the first years. I’m rather glad to say that I wasn’t the only one lost in awe and stunned into silence. Even Draco was like me. Only Hermione was still talking, rather quickly. We’re talking, whole paragraphs in one breath quickly. Hardly anyone heard her, even those who were, weren’t really paying attention to what she was saying. Something that upset her a great deal. Later I learned she was talking about and literally quoting passages of Hogwarts A History.”

Mal sighed. “Sounds like Hermione. I thought she was okay in the canon, but she wasn’t really my favorite character. Some fanfictions paint her in a better light, others, not too much. They make her downright villainous. In one story that I read, she’s basically the reason the entire muggle race dies, despite the fact she was trying to help them.”

Harry shrugged. “In a different world, certain choices being made, I can see Hermione doing something she thought would help but ultimately having it backfire.”

“Did the sorting hat go as in canon?” Mal asked softly. “Wanting to put you in Slytherin, but you wanting Gryffindor?”

He chuckled. “The sorting went as you would expect, and mostly following the canon. When I was called, a hush came over the crowd. The hat actually said I had the qualifications for all four houses. Slytherin being my first, Hufflepuff the next, Gryffindor, then Ravenclaw. Slytherin because of my cunning and ability to hide in plain sight. Hufflepuff because of my loyalty to those who were dear to me, or would eventually be. Gryffindor because of my bravery, and the fact that I’m his heir. Ravenclaw, because despite Dumbledore’s later actions, I was, and am, fairly smart.”

“But you argued Gryffindor.” Mal said with a fond smile.

Harry nodded. “My best mate was already in Gryffindor. By that I mean Neville, not Ron, but I’ll get to that later on. The hat was almost insistent that I be in Slytherin, but because I was determined, he acquiesced and put me in Gryffindor.”

"I wonder how much that desire was because of the Horcrux, and actually you." Mal mused resting her ear against where she would have heard Harry's heartbeat had they been alive.

“I’ve wondered that too.” Harry mused as well. “Many times.”

For a moment, things were silent as they rested there.

"It was after that my life carried out much like it did in the canon." He sighed. "Being here numerous times, I've had the chance to read the canon and a few fanfictions. I'll explain more about that later." Mal nodded and let him continue. "Snape, was every bit the evil you believed him to be. Gabriel later told me that had I had been born a girl, Snape would have raped me. Had I looked more like my mother, boy or girl, I would have been raped by Snape thinking I was Lily reincarnated for him. I just narrowly missed being a sex slave to the sick bastard Snape."

His murderous rage was palpable in the air, and Mal knew she had to change the subject to calm him down. "I wonder if Snape was Dumbledore's sex slave and if that's why you would have been used either way?"

Harry gagged, grateful he wasn't mortal and shuddered at the images that were brought to his mind when she said that.

“Sorry.” Mal said trying to hide her smile and suppressing a giggle.

He didn't miss that but was grateful she tried to not enjoy his suffering. He waved off her apology. "As disgusting as the imagery and thoughts are, you have a point." He met her eyes, "Now I will clarify I have nothing against same-sex relationships."

"You just have a problem with the slash that involves you, Snape, Voldemort, or Dumbledore." Mal said with a nod. "Understandable."

Harry shuddered again. “I’m so glad nightmares aren’t possible here.”

“Moving on, you and Ron were close, with Hermione later joining your ranks,” Mal said, “pick up from there.”

“It was never supposed to be Ron. Or Hermione for that matter.” Harry said laying back and pulling her down with him. “It was supposed to be Neville with whom I should have been friends with. That’s all I know, that’s all Gabriel could tell me.”

Mal sat up and faced him. “I might actually be able to help with that.”

He laced his fingers together on his stomach and looked at her patiently.

She took off her boots and sat cross-legged on the couch facing him, really glad that foot odor wasn't a thing here as she hadn't cleaned her boots in a while. "Now," She said firmly to him, "bear in mind this being taken from both canon, and fan theory/ fanfiction."

He nodded.

"Okay, so what's widely believed is that because you and Neville were the babies of the prophecy, you should have been an unbeatable duo. Going further into that, as brothers of the prophecy, you should have been raised as brothers. Your parents, as well as Neville's, were close even before they joined the Order. I’m pretty sure that Lily was Neville’s Godmother and Alice, Neville’s mother, was yours. If anything happened to the other, be it because of the prophecy or some other happening, you two should have been raised together as brothers.”

Harry stared at her for a long time. The information she gave him repeating over and over in his mind. “Huh, you might be spot on with that assessment.” He gave her a confused look. “But why would Dowager Longbottom not bring this forward?”

Mal raised her hands, palms up. "There are a few reasons. The first is she wants Neville weak so she can control him and thus maintain control of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Longbottom as she has since Frank's and Alice's attack. The second is because of the attack, she was wracked with grief and suddenly very worried and overprotective of Neville. The third, while combined with the second and the power she held in the first, despite everything she tried, Dumbledore was a powerhouse she couldn’t overcome.”

He nodded. "But wouldn't their will have stated such things? Why didn't she bring it forward?"

“Like I said,” Mal said lowering her hands. “It’s either option one, or she’s waiting till Neville’s of age, or of an age where she thinks he can handle the truth to open the will. That or in her grief she forgot about it. Or the theory I’m leaning towards is she doesn’t want it enacted. Not because she wants control of Neville or the Longbottom’s power and fortune, but because if she opens the will, that will mean that Frank and Alice are in fact gone, and beyond any help.”

“Again,” Harry nodded, “You might be onto something with that.” He shook his head and grinned at her. “Anyway, I owe you a death.”

“What’s practicing magic like!?” Mal asked excitedly before he could move on. “What’s flying like?”

He merely grinned at her, not at all upset by her questions. “All that you can imagine and more. I really don’t have words for it.”

Mal looked disappointed, “It’s one of those things one had to experience for themselves.” Harry nodded. “I understand.” She shook her head then and smiled at him. “Back to your next death then.”

He recognized the technique. Burying disappointment or hurt so others would know the true extent of what you were feeling. He wished he could give her an answer that would make her happy, but he really had nothing that he could say.

“You know,” Mal said before he could continue. “I’m a little concerned that we’re both a little too eager to hear about death stories.”

Harry laughed and her previous questions and reactions, for the moment, were forgotten. Which was her goal. She smiled as he recovered and continued.

“Well, first and second year happened, and not much was different from the canon verse, except the practical experience was something else entirely. Not as fun, or as pleasant as it seemed. It certainly wasn't easy to experience and it was a lot more difficult than the books made it out to be."

Mal nodded in understanding.

“My third death,” Harry met her eyes, “I met against the Dementors, or rather after the fact. Magical exhaustion after casting two powerful Patronus’s, the second being the more powerful of the two in such a short span of time. Without the proper treatment and time in between to regather my reserves, I exhausted myself out to the point I had no magic left in my body and it killed me. According to Gabriel, the blocks on my core were to blame for that.”

“So it’s true, Dumbledore blocked your core.”

Harry nodded.

Mal looked out the window in confusion. "But why would he do that? Blocking your core is counterproductive to your destiny. Even if you managed to get to Voldemort, you would have had to put up a convincing fight, or Voldemort would never have believed you were the child of the prophecy. Sure, he would have killed you and the Horcrux would have been dealt with, but if he didn't believe you could battle him on equal footing, he would have left you alive and told others to do the same. He would have protected you regardless that you were so weak to keep himself alive. I don’t understand Dumbledore’s motives on this. Sure, I have theories, who doesn’t, but it doesn’t make sense.”

Harry shrugged. “There are many reasons in Dumbledore’s mind, and I’m sure none of them will make sense to us. Besides, I’d rather not think about it right now. It’s something to think about later on.”

“Understood.” Mal agreed with him. “If I’m still around,” She said fidgeting some, “I would like to help you, even if it’s just to be a listening year while you talk out your theories.

Harry smiled warmly at her. “I would like that.”