Now And Forever
Chapter 33

By Abraxan

"I am." He reached over and squeezed her hand, then laced his fingers through hers. "You?"

"Happy and relaxed, as well. Where are we going? Or are we just driving?"

"I do have a destination in mind, but yeah, I’m having fun driving too," Harry replied. He hadn’t felt so at peace with himself and the world around him in . . . well, ever, actually. He and Ginny were having such fun each day, and the atmosphere was so different from anything he’d ever experienced, sometimes he felt as if his past had happened to someone else. Harry couldn’t remember ever having a grin on his face for days on end, but that seemed to be what he was doing here in Maui. Now he was taking Ginny to see the historic and scenic ‘Iao Valley State Monument.

"Do you plan to share with me where we’re going, or is it another surprise?"

"It’s a park. The scenery is supposed to be spectacular, and they have a garden with the original native species of plants there." He glanced at her. "I know how much you like Herbology, especially with your interest in healing. I thought you’d enjoy seeing these plants. From what I was told by the travel agent, they’ve had to work hard to get rid of foreign plants and make it possible for the original ones to grow well."

"Native plants? Cool! I wonder how they differ from the others?"

"No idea. You’re the one who’s good at Herbology."

The road wound up the valley, the sky nearly hidden at times by the trees overhanging the narrow road. Finally, they came to the parking lot. When they got out and looked around, Harry shrugged. "This is pretty, but I don’t see the fabulous view I was told about."

"Maybe we have to follow that path," Ginny said, pointing at a blacktopped trail that wound around a small building and off into the trees.

"Let’s go!" Harry took her hand and they began walking, soon coming to a bridge that crossed a fast-flowing stream. Like many of the other tourists, Harry and Ginny stopped on the bridge and looked down into the gorge.

"There are people down there!" Ginny said, staring at the water at least twenty feet below the bridge.

Harry followed her gaze and saw what looked like native Hawaiians sitting in the water directly below the bridge. Some of them were climbing out, laughing and teasing each other as they did so. Harry felt a drip on his arm and saw that a young Hawaiian man, who was soaking wet and had multiple tattoos, had joined him at the bridge railing.

"’Scuse me, man," the Hawaiian said. "Gotta get up here."

Harry stepped back from the railing and watched the young man climb onto the rail and teeter there until the stream below cleared of people. With a whoop, the Hawaiian jumped off the bridge feet first, landing with a huge splash. Harry, Ginny and the other tourists all rushed to the railing and looked down. The young man surfaced, shook the water out of his hair, and joined the queue climbing out of the gorge toward the bridge. Two young girls, their long black hair streaming down past their waists, climbed onto the railing hand in hand, then giggled and jumped off.

"Do you suppose it’s some kind of native religious ceremony?" Harry heard an elderly woman ask the man with her.

The man removed his hat and scratched his head, looking as puzzled as Harry felt. "Dunno."

Another Hawaiian stood next to Harry, water still sluicing off his baggy shorts, his arms and back heavily tattooed. Harry cleared his throat, not wanting to disturb what might be some kind of ritual, but too curious to not ask the question.

"Why are you jumping off the bridge?"

The Hawaiian turned to Harry and grinned. "Because it’s fun, man!"

"It looks like fun," Harry agreed. "How deep is the water?"

"I dunno, maybe fifteen feet or so. We dammed up the river here so we’d have this pool to jump into. The park has signs everywhere saying to stay out of the rivers, but hey, man, they’re our rivers. We were here before the Park Police, and they just can’t keep us out." With a laugh, the young man climbed onto the railing and jumped off, shouting as he fell.

"Harry, don’t even think about it," Ginny warned.

Harry turned an innocent face to her. "Who, me?" She just laughed. "Yeah, I’d be the one the Park Police arrested," he said with a grin, taking her hand and leading her off the bridge.

They followed a trail down into a valley and saw two elderly Hawaiian men standing in the stream. "Is it cold?" Ginny called.

"Yeah, it is!" came the cheery reply.

"I’ll bet it isn’t as cold as the streams around Hogwarts," Harry murmured as he and Ginny waved to the men and kept walking.

"Too right! You’d have to be mad to stand in a stream in March at home!" Ginny agreed.

After climbing some steps cut into the side of the mountain, they came to an overlook with plaques that told the story of the ‘Iao Needle, a tall, thin rock formation that rises 1200 feet above the valley floor. Sentries would stand watch there during wars. The plaques told of the numerous battles that took place in this valley.

"You’d think there would be ghosts, with all the people who died here," Ginny said, glancing around.

"Yeah. Since Hawaii’s considered ‘paradise’ by so many people, you’d think it would be crammed with ghosts who refused to leave," Harry agreed. He heard a sound in the distance and stilled, turning his head slowly to try to locate it. What was it? There was a soft booming sound, like the sound made when a whale slapped its tail on the water, but they were probably too far inland to hear such a sound from the sea. When he finally found the origin of the sound and faced that direction, he heard other sounds — men shouting and some erratic clattering noise. Finally, he saw it. Far down in the valley, a ghostly battle was taking place. Men with spears, knives and shields were engaged in endless combat. Harry’s face grew grim and he swallowed hard. He’d seen enough combat to last him a lifetime. How awful for these ghosts to have to do battle for eternity.

"Harry?"

Ginny’s voice started him. He turned to look at her. "Yeah?"

"What is it?"

He pointed silently, holding his arm up until he heard her gasp when she saw the battle.

"Do you suppose there’s any way we can stop it?" The sadness in her voice made Harry turn to her.

"I don’t know. Do you have any ideas?"

Her chuckle sounded more ironic than amused. "Where’s Hermione when we need her?"

Harry smiled. "Yeah, she’d know the right spell."

"Or she’d spend the rest of her holiday looking for it," Ginny agreed.

Harry continued to watch the battle, a terrible sadness washing over him as he considered the long centuries this battle had gone on. He pondered the situation and then relaxed. "I’ve got it."

Ginny looked up at him in surprise. "You do?"

"I think so. C’mon, let’s Apparate down there and talk to them."

"Talk to them? But we don’t know their language, and they’re trying to kill each other!"

Harry pulled her into his arms. "They’re already dead, sweetheart. They can’t hurt us."

"They’re not friendly like Hogwarts ghosts. I don’t know if this is a good idea or not, Harry."

He tilted his head and gave her the crooked smile he knew melted her heart. "We have to try, don’t we?"

She sighed. "I suppose. But if you get hurt—"

Harry held his hands up as if in surrender. "I won’t! I’m avoiding Muggle hospitals, remember? And I do have a really fine healer here with me." He bent down and kissed her forehead. "But if you don’t want me to try—"

Ginny gazed down the valley at the ongoing battle, then sighed. "Someone needs to do something about them. Okay. What’s the plan?"

"Dunno yet. I’ll think of something."

* * * * *

Moments later, Harry and Ginny Apparated to the battlefield. The ghosts kept fighting with each other, ignoring the intruders. Harry pulled out his wand and held it loosely in his fingertips in case he needed it.

"Hello?" he called. "Could I speak with you for a moment?" A few warriors glanced at him, but their enemies took advantage of that and stabbed them with their spears or knives. The injured warriors gasped or grunted or screamed and fell as if badly injured or dead. A moment later, the injured or dead warriors stood up and joined the battle with renewed vigour.

"You can stop fighting now. Please!" Harry looked from warrior to warrior. "You lot don’t have to fight anymore! The war is over!"

"I don’t think they can understand you, Harry," Ginny said, her eyes not leaving the action before them.

Harry pointed his wand at the warriors and mumbled half of a language spell he’d read about but never used. Then he turned the wand toward his own throat and mumbled the second half of the spell.

"Hello!" he called, and was pleased to see a reaction from the warriors as well as a stunned look on Ginny’s face.

"What did you say?" she asked.

Harry put his hand on her shoulder to reassure her, then turned back to the warriors, many of whom were now standing and staring at him while keeping a wary eye on their enemies.

"Can you understand me?" Harry said, studying the dark faces before him.

"Who are you, stranger? Why are you here?" a man with a magnificent feathered headdress and cape demanded, stepping toward Harry with an arrogant sneer.

Harry thought this must be one of the chiefs of the warring tribes. He bowed to show respect. When he straightened, he said, "My name is Harry Potter. I come from a land far across the sea. Why are you fighting?"

"They came to steal our land and our women!" the chief said, throwing a hand out in an angry gesture. "This we cannot allow."

Harry swallowed hard, hoping what he was going to say would make sense to the men glaring at him. "I don’t know how to tell you this, sir, but your war was over long ago. You’re all ghosts. You’ve been dead for centuries. It’s time to move on to the next adventure."

The expressions on their faces varied from startled to disbelieving to enraged. Harry pointed at the cars in the parking lot up the valley from their present location. "Can you see those cars?" The men followed his gesture, but frowned in confusion. "Those coloured boxes that bring people into the valley. Can you see them?" The men nodded. All of them were now watching Harry intently, the battle forgotten for the moment. "You didn’t have such conveyances in your time, did you?" He didn’t wait for them to answer, but carried on. "Many years have passed since your time. You can be at peace now. Your war is over."

The men stirred restlessly, looking at each other in confusion.

The chief glared at Harry. "Our war is not over until one tribe has won!"

Harry shrugged. "I’m sorry, I can’t tell you who won, but Hawaiians live in peace with each other now. Tourists like my wife and I come to visit your beautiful islands on holiday. Things are very different now."

At the mention of Ginny, the ghosts’ attention turned to her. Their faces showed shock at her appearance. Some in the muttering crowd touched their own hair as they stared at the bright red tresses spilling over her shoulders.

The chief tore his eyes away from inspecting Ginny and turned back to Harry, still suspicious. "Harry Potter? What kind of name is that? What is your tribe?"

Harry shook his head. His vague idea about how to help these ghosts move on apparently wasn’t working. He simply didn’t know how to explain the present world to these men. "My name is English. I come from an island on the other side of the world. My tribe is, erm, wizard." When he said the word "wizard," they gasped.

"You . . . you are a shaman? From an island across the sea?" the chief said, frowning in concentration.

The man actually thinking about what Harry was saying seemed to be progress in Harry’s opinion. "Yes. That’s how I can speak your language. I cast a spell to learn your language quickly so you’d understand me."

The men began muttering among themselves. Harry took a step toward Ginny, wondering if these ghosts actually could hurt them. Had he made a terrible mistake?

"Please," Harry said, "think about your families. They wouldn’t want you to fight forever. You can move on to the next plane and see them there. You just have to decide to go, and it will happen." He crossed his fingers behind his back, hoping he was right.

Harry heard Ginny gasp. A quick glance showed him she was okay, but she was staring at the warriors with her eyes wide in shock. Harry turned back to the group and saw that, one by one, slowly at first, but more quickly as time passed, the ghosts were fading from view.

"It worked!" Ginny breathed as she reached out and took his hand. "Harry, you did it!"

He gave her hand a squeeze but kept watching the ghostly warriors. Some still seemed eager to fight, but when they turned to look at their opponents, more often than not, the other man was either already gone or faded as they watched.

The chief whirled around, his feathered cape flying behind him. He shouted at his men, but they kept disappearing until only a handful remained. The chief turned back to Harry, his face contorted with rage.

"Where are my tribesmen? What have you done to them, Shaman?"

"They chose to leave," Harry said, not knowing how else to explain things.

The chief turned back to his men and saw two of them fade away right before his eyes. He turned back to Harry. When he spoke again, his voice was tired and hesitant. "What you say is true? Our battle is over?"

"Yes. You can join your loved ones on the other side now."

The chief slowly took off his headdress and bowed, placing his headdress at Harry’s feet. "I honour you, Shaman, and your flame-haired woman." He straightened and gazed at Harry for a moment, then faded away.

Harry stood staring at the spot where the headdress lay, its colourful feathers swaying in some ancient breeze. Soon it, too, faded away.

"Wow. That was brilliant," Ginny murmured. "Well done!"

Harry grinned and started to say something, then remembered to remove the spell from his voice so she could understand him. "Thanks. Ready to resume our honeymoon?"

Ginny wrapped her arms around his waist. "Absolutely!"

Harry held her close to him and Apparated, taking them back to the path they’d been on when they saw the ghostly warriors.

* * * * *

Harry and Ginny climbed down off the overlook and followed the trail deeper into the valley. Around a bend in the trail, they came to a place where a tall, thin waterfall fell into a narrow pool, the water flowing noisily over rocks below. Harry glanced at the scene, then felt the world tilt. Suddenly he was no longer in Maui, but battling enemies on a cliff in France. Ginny was shot out of the air and fell, disappearing beyond the cliff’s edge. "Ginny!" he cried and tried to run to her, but something was in the way. Something was holding him back. "Ginny!" Something tripped him and he fell. He started to get up but was slammed to the ground, then rolled over onto his back. What was going on? All he could see was Ginny being shot out of the air and falling beyond the cliff, then Ginny, somehow back on level ground, being thrown over the same cliff by Voldemort. These things kept happening over and over, and he couldn’t save her! "Ginny!"

Something pressed against his mouth, something warm and soft. Something tickled his nose. Something silky brushed his cheek. Something firm and determined held him down while he was being attacked this way. He struggled to move, but he couldn’t! He had to save Ginny, he had to—wait a minute. Those were lips pressed against his, very familiar lips. Something warm and wet and lively was being pressed between his lips. Ginny! He gasped, then returned the kiss with all his heart. His vision finally cleared and he saw her beloved face just above his, her brow furrowed in concentration, tears in her eyes.

She pulled back, wiped away her tears and gave him a tremulous smile. "Are you okay now?"

At his nod, she released him from whatever spell she’d used to hold him down, then helped him sit up.

Harry sat with his face in his hands, shaking with nerves. "I’m fine."

"No, you’re not."

When he looked up at her, he shivered a bit. "Did I hurt you? Are you OK?"

"I’m fine. What happened?"

Bits of phantom images chased each other in his mind. He shook his head, trying to clear it. "I don’t know. Something—"

"Is he all right?" a man’s voice called from the trail. The running Harry had done during his flashback had taken him and Ginny halfway between the trail and the river’s edge.

"He’ll be fine," Ginny said.

Harry straightened and tried to organize his face into a pleasant expression, but he knew he must still look ill.

The man waved his friends on and crossed to where Harry and Ginny sat on the ground. "I don’t mean to intrude, but I may be able to help you. I’d like to try, anyway."

"Help us how?" Ginny said.

The man was probably in his early thirties, with a military haircut and bearing. "You’re the man with the scarred back, aren’t you? I saw you on the beach. Someone told me you were a soldier and got hurt in battle," he said, standing next to Ginny and looking at Harry with concern in his eyes. "Did you have a flashback just now?"

Harry gaped at the man in shock. How did he know? He glanced at Ginny and saw the same surprise in her eyes.

"Erm . . ." Harry said.

"As I said, I don’t want to intrude, but I’m a Navy doc. I deal with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder all the time. You look as if you’ve seen a ghost, which I wouldn’t expect on a bright sunny day on Maui."

Harry swallowed hard and shook his head, but didn’t say anything.

"May I sit down? My name’s Mike." He offered his hand to Harry, who shook it.

"I’m . . . I’m Harry. This is my wife, Ginny." He shivered again, still not quite over the flashback.

"What did you see in your flashback? If you talk about it, perhaps we can find a way to deal with it," Mike said as he sat down cross-legged near them.

Harry shrugged and dropped his eyes. "Just a battle."

"I heard you were Special Forces," Mike offered. At Harry’s startled look, he continued. "The little boy who questioned you is my buddy’s nephew. We heard all about you when we got here."

"Oh. Uncle Rich," Harry said, remembering his encounter with the child at the ice cream stand.

"Yeah, I supported Rich’s platoon. We’re here on R&R."

"Welcome home," Ginny said. "Or are you home?"

"My home, yeah, but my parents are in Illinois. I’ll be going to visit them soon."

Ginny looked at Mike’s group of friends, who were still visible on the trail, some of them looking back at their friend. "Is one of those ladies your wife? You shouldn’t interrupt your holiday for us."

"I’m not married," Mike answered. "Haven’t met the right girl yet." He glanced from Ginny to Harry and back at Ginny again, then chuckled. "D’you have any sisters?"

Startled into a small smile, Ginny shook her head. "Sorry, just four brothers."

"My loss then." He looked at Harry, who’d had time to calm down somewhat during this exchange. "Now that the pleasantries are over, how’re you doing, Harry?"

"I’m fine."

"No, you’re not. But if you give it enough time, and get some help, you will be. PTSD isn’t something to ignore. It’s a serious problem."

Harry sighed. "I haven’t been ignoring it."

"I’m glad to hear that. If you don’t mind my asking, what kind of therapies have you tried so far?"

"Something to help me sleep. I have nightmares."

"There are a lot of other kinds of therapy in use today. You should talk to your doctor or psychologist about it," Mike offered. "Do you have any idea what triggered this episode? It could be something you saw, a smell, a sound—or nothing at all. But if you can identify the triggers for these episodes, it may help you."

Harry pressed his lips together, frustrated that he’d had a flashback on his honeymoon, and embarrassed that it had been witnessed by this Muggle, well-meaning though he seemed to be. Mike just sat there waiting. Harry sighed, then decided to cooperate. Maybe the man knew something that would help him.

"I, um, I dunno. I looked around and just . . . flashed."

"Is this area similar to someplace you served?"

"No."

"There’s nothing here that reminds you of the place you flashed to? No scent or sound or—"

Harry gasped, then looked at Ginny. "The waterfall. I think it was the sound of the waterfall. Maybe that was it."

"Good, Harry. And what brought you back, do you know?"

He flashed a brief grin at his wife. "Ginny knocking me down."

"Well done, Ginny," Mike said with a smile, then turned back to Harry. "Have you tried any other therapies?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you talk with anyone about your flashbacks, nightmares or whatever else is bothering you?"

Harry swallowed hard. "No. It’s too hard to talk about." He looked at Ginny and chewed on his lip a bit. "Everyone I’m close to was there, too. I don’t want to bring up bad memories for them."

Mike looked at Ginny. "You were there?" She nodded. "Do you have similar problems to Harry’s?"

"I wasn’t in the middle of the fighting like he was. My nightmares are usually about him getting hurt. As long as he’s next to me, I manage. And I don’t have daytime visions like he does."

"I’m surprised they let a husband and wife serve together. That wouldn’t happen in our military. Must be a British thing, then, right?"

"We weren’t married then," Harry explained.

"Oh, I see." Mike turned to Ginny. "What did you do, Ginny? Were you a clerk, a driver, what?"

When she hesitated, Harry answered for her, knowing she was uncertain of the proper Muggle terminology. "She was a medic. She cleaned up after us."

"Huh," Mike said with a shake of his head. "Tough duty, young lady. But it helps you understand what Harry’s going through to some extent, right?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"Then, Harry, you could talk to Ginny about your flashbacks."

Harry blew out an impatient breath. "No."

Ginny took Harry’s hand and leaned toward him. "But I want to help you, Harry!"

Harry squeezed her hand and smiled at her. "You do help me, all the time."

"It might be helpful to her with her own nightmares if the two of you talked about your experiences together," Mike offered.

Harry shook his head. "No!"

"Why won’t you let me try?" Ginny said, sounding a bit desperate now.

Harry knew what was going through her head. This man was suggesting something that might help him, and Harry was refusing! She didn’t understand that he was trying to protect her! He nearly growled in frustration.

"What is it, Harry?" Mike said. "What’s holding you back?"

The horrors he’d seen nearly overwhelmed Harry for a moment before he tamped his feelings down again. "She’s been through enough. We’re going to have a happy life together." He went on, his voice shaking with tension. "She lost two brothers in the war. She doesn’t need to bear my burdens."

"Ginny, I’m so sorry," Mike said, reaching across to squeeze her shoulder briefly. "It sounds like you two have been to hell and back. And look at you. In spite of everything you’ve been through, you’ve survived and found each other. You have a lot of positive things in your lives, don’t you? When I see you on the beach, you both look very happy."

"We’re on our honeymoon," Ginny said with a shy smile.

"Congratulations on your marriage! And congratulations on surviving. You’re blessed, both of you. Do you realize that?" Mike looked from one to the other and waited for them to reply.

Harry sighed and finally looked at the man again. "I know I’m a lucky man. I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my life most of the time. But sometimes I remember friends dying, or things I did . . ."

Mike nodded. "And you have a flashback or nightmare. Right?"

"Yes."

"I know it may sound stupid, but one thing that may help is for you to forgive yourself, Harry. I imagine you did things in battle that you would never do in normal life, but you did them because you had to, right?" Mike waited for Harry to respond.

Harry sat and thought about that for a moment, then shrugged and nodded.

"And you did the best you could, the only thing you could in those situations. Am I right?"

"Yes."

"If you had no other choice than to do what you did, you didn’t do anything wrong, Harry. It’s time to forgive yourself." Mike’s voice was quiet and reasonable.

Harry felt like a drowning man reaching for a rope to save himself. He wanted to accept what Mike was saying. It made sense. Harry knew he wasn’t a murderer. He’d killed, yes, but he’d done it to protect those he cared about. Could he forgive himself? Was it possible? He sighed and dropped his head in his hands again. Forgiving himself for the things he’d done in the heat of battle was harder than he would’ve believed, but maybe if he managed it, he’d get better. He’d love to stop being haunted by his past and be able to enjoy his life. If forgiving himself would help, he’d give it a try. He finally glanced up at Mike, who’d been watching him.

"I don’t expect you to recover from this today or even this month, Harry. How long since you were in battle?" Mike said.

"Last May. Ten months."

"And of course you had to recover from your wounds and grieve for your lost friends.." Harry nodded. "It will take time, but I think you’ll get there, Harry, especially with Ginny’s help. Tell you what. I’ll be here for a few days. If you want to talk, call me." Mike pulled out a card and scribbled a phone number on the back. "That’s my cell phone. You can reach me any time on it, or you can use the email address on the front of the card to contact me after I leave."

Harry glanced at the card, then put it in his pocket. "Thanks."

Mike stood up. "I doubt you’ll call me, but if you need help while I’m here, please don’t hesitate to call. And when you get home, try some other forms of therapy, okay?"

Harry stood up and offered his hand. "Thanks a lot. I appreciate your time."

"I appreciate what you did in the war effort. Take care of yourselves. I hope you have a long and happy life together."

Harry looked at Ginny and took her hand in his. "Me too."