Light and Shadow

By the time they left St. Mungo's Hospital, dusk had already settled over London. On the way back to Hogwarts, Harry remained silent. Streetlights flickered on one after another, casting mottled patches of light and shadow across his lowered face.

Professor Dumbledore deliberately slowed his pace, yet never looked back. Wade walked beside Harry, keeping just the right distance and thoughtfully leaving him undisturbed.

They both understood what Harry must have been thinking—seeing the Longbottom couple had surely reminded him of his own parents.

Frank and Alice had endured terrible torture... and had once been lost for fourteen years...

But they were still alive in the end, supporting each other as they gradually emerged from the painful past.

And his parents? They were dead... utterly and completely dead... They would never come back...

For one brief moment, Harry imagined... imagined that the ones walking out of the hospital room had actually been his parents—haggard, perhaps, but real enough for him to feel their warmth, instead of merely being a few cold Photos.

But then Harry felt ashamed of the thought. He blinked hard, forcing back his tears along with the almost painful longing in his heart.

He suddenly jolted out of his thoughts and realized that, without noticing, he had fallen several steps behind.

The shadow beneath his feet was divided by the lamplight into several bands of differing brightness. It stretched and shrank as he walked, swaying before his eyes.

Harry quickened his pace to catch up. When he reached the other two, he somehow felt faintly relieved.

—As though loneliness and darkness were demons that never stopped whispering, capable of magnifying the monsters in one's heart.

Wade glanced sideways at him. Perhaps he had noticed something, because he suddenly flicked his Wand.

The streetlamp beside them abruptly began