Finally! A Gracey's Chance Chapter 8!

[eiahmon]

Title - A Gracey's Chance Chapter 7
Rating - PG
Summary - Twelve years after Voldermort's defeat, Harry receives a letter from an old friend, with a most unusual request
Disclaimer - I only wish I owned Harry Potter, and if I owned Haunted Mansion, the story would have been told in a much better way.

8.

Edward sat silently in the passenger seat of the rental car as his dad drove it down the deserted dirt roads to Gracey Manor. Even though it had been so long, they seemed familiar to him, and seeing them sent a wash of conflicting emotions through him. He didn't even want to think about how he would feel when he saw the house.

"Are you alright, Edward?" his dad asked quietly without taking his eyes off the road, and Edward shook his head. Of course he wasn't.

"How long until we're at the house, Dad?" he asked.

"Not long, We should be coming up on it in the next couple turns, and... ah!" Edward looked up in confusion from where he'd been doing an intense study of his hands as the car stopped. His dad took a small pad of paper and a pen out of the glove compartment and scribbled something down before handing it over. "Here, read this."

Edward looked down at the scrap of paper in his hands and read the words there:

Gracey Manor can be found one mile due north or Lake Pontchartrain.

“Fidelius charm?” he asked, as he handed the paper back to his dad, who nodded.

“It was the best way to hide the place until you came for it.”

“Did you add any other wards?”

“Your Uncle Bill and I added Stasis Wards, Weather Wards, and Creature Repulsion Wards. Every year or so I came back to make sure they were all working properly, so the house should be in the same shape it was when your mother and I found it all those years ago.”

“When you found me.” Edward said softly, and he heard his dad turn and look at him.

“Yes,’ he said just as soft “When we found you.”

Edward looked up then and was startled to see a ornate, rusted, iron gate where none had been before. His dad was already out of the car and pushing the gate open enough for them to walk through, which caused the rusted hinges to shriek in protest. Edward looked back down at his hands for a moment, took a deep breath to steel himself, and got out of the car. He then followed the long weed choked path up the drive to the house itself. He kept his eyes on the ground though, more than a little afraid to look up. He felt his dad gently take him by the arm.

“Look up, Edward.”

"I'm not sure I want to, Dad."

"You have to face it, Edward. Now look up."

Edward swallowed thickly, but he still didn't look up. It was only his dad's fingers that gently pushed his chin up that made him look.

He looked up at the old house, with its many windows, tall columned porch, and conservatory, and felt... nothing. He couldn't help the sigh of relief at that. The few things that he did remember were bad enough, and he had been afraid that seeing the house would cause them all to come rushing back. The reoccurring nightmare of strangling to death was bad enough; he didn’t want to remember the details of his hanging death from his previous life. Taking another deep breath, he followed his dad up to the porch and through the front doors.

Stepping into the entrance hall with its twin staircases and wooden inlay floor, caused a vague feeling of familiarity, like a half remembered dream, but no memories rushed out to greet him.

His dad waved his hand. “Lumos!” and the candles in the room flared to life.

“Dad?”

“Hm?”

“Where did you find me?”

“In the ballroom.”

“Can you take me there?”

“This way then.”

The pair walked straight ahead, between the staircases, down a short hallway that was lined with suits of armor and stopped in front of a closed set of doors. Edward noted the runes carved into the door frame and remembered what his dad had told him about how he had been sealed in the ballroom with no hope of escape.

"The group that had done the warding job had certainly been thorough. Dropping the wards would have initiated a cascading failure that would have the destroyed the room and everything in it. I might have pulled the entire house down as well." His dad snorted in a self disparaging way. "It took your mother and I an hour to find this room. We looked everywhere but here, and only found it when we gave up and decided to find a place to sit down."

Despite his surroundings, Edward couldn't help but chuckle as the feared defeater of Voldermort pushed the doors open and gestured for him to walk through into the ballroom. Edward stepped through the door, and for a brief second, he saw the elegantly dressed dancers, wearing masks and hats, swirling around the ballroom with casual grace. Then he blinked, and the image vanished, leaving only a dark, empty room. He looked around, vaguely aware that he was shaking ever so slightly, and spotted the chalk lines and runes on the floor.

"Is that -?" he asked as he looked back at his dad and pointed to the lines of the floor.

His dad nodded. 'Yes, they are. The box with the four runes and the line that's scuffed out was a temporary containment field to keep him contained while I analyzed the wards. The other ones -" Here he pointed to the trio of circles joined together by lines of runes. "- was where I conducted the ritual that gave us you."

Edward was silent as he stared at the runes and circles for a long moment, and then he looked up at his dad.

"I want to see my - his - grave." Without another word or glance, he walked purposefully out of the ballroom. He didn't even notice as he walked through the house, he headed straight to the backdoor and went out into the back yard. From there, he went into the cemetery. He strode through the graves without breaking his stride; he knew exactly where he was going. He stopped in front of a large granite stone that was overgrown with moss and lichens and knelt down in front of it. He brushed his fingers across the letters that were carved there, barely visible due to so many years of wear from exposure to nature and the elements.

Master Edward Gracey
May 9, 1850 - March 3, 1879
May he find love at Heaven's Gate

Edward was unprepared for the surge of anger that he felt as he read the words on the marker. He understood full well the meaning behind the words. They didn't speak of him being reunited with the woman that he loved; they spoke of him finding someone else in the afterlife.

"Even in death, she wasn't good enough." he said quietly as he clenched his fists at his side. It wasn't fair.

"Where is her grave?" he asked, knowing that his dad was standing behind him.

"I don' know. I never looked for her."

Edward looked up and scanned the rows of broken and leaning tombstones, and then he saw it. He practically ran over to it, unmindful of what he stepped on, and stopped in front of it.

Elizabeth Henshaw
June 22, 1862 - February 25, 1879
My beloved,
May we meet again in the next life

He stared at the carved marble for an endless moment before he turned back to look at his dad, who shook his head and answered the unspoken question:

"She's not here, Edward. She moved on long ago."

"Where did she go?"

"To her next life, likely. Either that or she's on the other side still.

"Where I cannot go."

 

"No, you cannot, not for many more years yet."

Edward felt as though someone had reached into his chest, grabbed a hold of his heart, and was squeezing it in a vice. His eyes began to burn as tears began to run down his face. "I don't want to be here anymore, Dad. Can we go now?"

"If you're ready, then let's go."

Edward was completely silent during the drive back to New Orleans, and he was acutely aware of the worried looks that his dad kept giving him. They returned to their hotel in silence, and Edward laid silently on his bed for the rest of the day, despite his dad's repeated attempts to get him to speak.

******

The following day they drove to Tulane University,where Edward was due to start law school in only a couple short weeks. He figured that it must be his past self bleeding through, because he had wanted to a lawyer since he was a small boy, and the previous Edward Gracey had also been one. He wouldn't be staying in Gracey Manor though. No, that house needed extensive work before it could be occupied again. Instead he would be living in a small apartment on campus. His dad helped him move in and get unpacked, but as they were doing this, Edward couldn't stop thinking about Gracey Manor and the memories it held.

“Edward.” his dad said quietly yet firmly, and Edward looked up from the open box that he had been staring into for the past several minutes. “Don't let Gracey Manor become an obsession. You can visit the house any time you wish since you know the secret, but even from London, I will know whenever you cross the ward line. If I feel that you are over there too much, I will recast the Fidelius, locking you out. Don't make me regret showing it to you, son.”

“I won't, Dad.” Edward said quietly, and he stood up and allowed his father to enfold him in his arms “I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, Edward. I am so grateful to Marcy for sending me that letter. Without it, I would have never gotten you.”

Edward let out a watery chuckle. He had met Marcy, and he had treated her like an eccentric aunt, but the crazy old Cajun woman had died a few years before. After a few minutes, he dad let go of him and stepped back.

“C'mon,” he said “Let's get you settled in.”

A week later, Edward stood at the portkey station in the magical district of New Orleans and waved as his dad caught his return portkey home. As Harry Potter's only child, he was acutely aware that his dad was capable of apparating across the Atlantic to London, but the elder man preferred not to. No country liked the idea that someone could just appear inside their borders without any passport or without going through customs. So to keep the Americans from getting too twitchy, Harry always used legal portkeys, and the occasional airplane. Once his dad had vanished on his way back to London, Edward returned to campus. Classes were due to start in a week, and he wanted to tour the campus some more and meet some of his fellow classmates and some of his professors first if possible.

******

Once school began, Edward found that he didn't have much time to think about his previous life. Lectures and homework occupied his time, and he was too busy for Gracey Manor or Elizabeth to enter his thoughts. His father had drilled a strong work ethic and a dislike of parties into his head, so while his fellow students were out boozing it up at the bars in the French Quarter, he stayed at home, watching TV or reading books. He was careful to not work too hard; his dad had also informed him of the times where his mother had worked herself into exhaustion in her pursuit of perfect grades. So when he wasn't studying, he went around town to see the sights; visits to the aquarium, walks in the city's many parks, visits to the bookstores, and the occasional outdoor concert. Winter soon arrived, and Edward had to stifle laughs at the sight of many of his fellow classmates, who bundled up like they were freezing, while he himself thought the weather was wonderful. He supposed it was payback for all the times they had laughed at him when he had complained about the heat during the summer months.

His dad bought him a portkey to London so he could return home from Christmas, which he did, and he spent a wonderful 10 days in the company of his father, grandfather, and many others, before he returned to school on the 3rd of January. He made sure that his dad had not seen the shrunken down box of “muggle safe” pranks that Grandpa Sirius had given him just before he caught his return portkey.

Once he had unpacked his suitcase and put his presents away, he began to wonder what to do to fill time. Classes weren't due to start for another two days and midterms were done, so he had no homework to do . Figuring that since he hadn't been there since the summer, his dad shouldn't worry, he opted to visit Gracey Manor again. He made the short drive across Lake Pontchartrain to the boundaries of the Fidelius ward and drove on through. He had no inkling that someone had watched him go through and seemingly disappear.

Edward wandered the house for a few hours, looking at the paintings on the walls, exploring the graveyard out back, and inspecting the pipe organ in the ballroom and trying to figure if it was still saveable. The setting sun eventually forced him to return to New Orleans, and his departure was noted.

Classes resumed on the 5th, and he threw himself into them, counting days until the end of the year when he could return to his family. He was enjoying himself, but part of himself wondered what had possessed him to go to school in the United States instead of going to Oxford or Cambridge. Between his stellar grades and his family's wealth, admission wouldn't have been a problem, but no, he had to go to school in the United States.

He stayed in town for the spring break, since it wasn't that long, and he spent more time and Gracey Manor, getting it cleaned up. Matti had been sent over by his dad, and the little elf was gleefully plowing through the grime. She had also been given access to a small account that had been set up, and she was using it to order new linens and other such things as they were needed. Edward figured that the house would be clean by the end of the school year at the rate she was going. Of course there was also construction work to be done; the place needed a new roof, several windows were blown out, and the foundation was sinking into the swamp, but the stasis spells cast by his dad and uncle would tide the place over until they could get some contractors out. He also needed to get the wiring updated before something shorted out and burned the place to the ground.

'I think that is enough for tonight, Matti.” Edward said with a yawn as he looked around the front entrance. He scarcely recognized it; Matti had cleaned and polished until it looked new. The gleaming chandelier hung from the ceiling, while the polished wood of the floor and stairs gleamed under the warm light. “I'm going home. You can take the rest of the night off, if you wish. Whatever you do, I want you to take the time to eat and get at least eight hours of sleep. Do you understand?” He had learned that elves would work until they dropped if their masters weren't careful with their instructions.

“Yes Master Edward, sir.” Matti replied as she nodded her head so hard, her ears flapped back and forth.

Edward smiled warmly at the little creature “Goodnight, Matti.'

“Goodnight Master Edward, sir.”

Edward returned to New Orleans, content with the progress son the house, and again, his departure was noted.

******

Summer arrived, and Edward's dad, Grandpa Sirius, and Uncle Remus arrived to spend the first month of the summer in New Orleans with him. He showed them around his favorite haunts and introduced them to some of his classmates that he had made friends with. They also checked up on the house, which had been cleaned from top to bottom, and arrangements were made to get the repairs it needed. This required dropping the Fidelius, which his dad made short work of. The contractors were due to arrive the following day to survey the house and give their estimates, so plans were made to return to the house then. Once that was done, Edward directed them to a favored restaurant for dinner.

The following day, the four were waiting at the house, and the roofing contractor was the first to arrive. Once he had surveyed the roof and given his estimate, the contractor for the windows appeared. By the time he had gone, it was nearly lunch, so Grandpa volunteered to go buy lunch and bring it back. Of course Dad and Uncle Remus had to go with him, since they all knew that his Grandfather would be hopelessly lost in the muggle world, not to mention he was liable to prank the food if left alone with it. Edward laughingly told them to get on with it, and he had stayed behind to await the other contractors.

While he waited – the guy to look at the foundation wasn't due for another half hour or so – he walked around the house to kill time, before deciding to explore the one part of the house he hadn't been to yet – the attic. He hesitantly took the ancient lift up to uppermost floor, and then climbed the narrow staircase to the attic. After learning that this was where his past self had committed suicide, he had never been able to bring himself to go up there. He wasn't sure if he wanted to live there or sell it, but he wanted to lay all the ghosts to rest before he decided, so, if he did decide to let it go, he could do so without any regrets.

The attic was full of boxes, trunks, and various other knickknacks, including an old wedding dress on a form. At once time, the dress might have been beautiful, but time had ravaged it, and it was dull, frayed, and falling apart. He knew who the dress had likely belonged to, but he felt no emotion and had no twinges of memory at the sight of it, which he found relieving. After several minutes of poking around, he at last came to the spot that he had been avoiding.

The cupola.

The small windowed structure stretched several feet higher than the rest of the ceiling, and to his horror, he was able to see a ragged bit of rope, still hanging from where it had been tied off all those years ago. He suddenly felt sick and dizzy, and he stumbled back away from the sight, only to collide with something behind him.

A pair of hands clamped down on his arms, and an angry voice hissed in his ear.

“Well what have we here? Who let you out?”

Chapter 7 – Chapter 9

Back to the Archive