HH_mirror

((Okay, since nobody else has bitten yet, I will :-) ))

Laura Palmer stepped out of the Great Hall, focused on the book she held open in her hands. It was her mynah bird Waldo's voice that snapped her out of her reader's trance.

"Danger, Will Robinson! Danger!" Waldo squawked.

Laura looked up and saw a pair of yellow eyes glowing in the shadows, watching her intently. She closed the book and slipped her wand from her sleeve.

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The dog walked closer to Laura, sniffing her intently. It could smell the last meal she had eaten, the people she had sat next to, and an underlying stale smell. After circling her the dog sat down in front of her feet and looked up at her.

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"Hello there. Looking for supper? I'm not it, and neither is Waldo. But I can think of a few people whose direction I'd like to point you in." She carefully extended a hand, palm up, beneath the dog's nose and receiving no warning growl, gingerly stroked the underside of its chin.

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The dog lifted its head up to give her better access to its chin. Its stub of a tail wagged happily.

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"Aw. Like that, do you? Wonder who you belong to. Don't remember seeing any Rottweilers around here before."

A thought suddenly struck her.

"You're not going to turn into a wizard and say something double-entendreish right about now, are you?"

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"No, that's my job," Damien said as he rounded a corner. He snapped his fingers, and the dog trotted over to his side. He looked Laura up and down. "At least you know how to treat a dog well. You're looking rather nice today, at least for a dead girl."

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"Thank you. I'm feeling a lot less dead than usual lately. And I know how to treat lots of things well, Mr. ...Thorne, right? Haven't seen you since my Sorting, I don't think.

What's his name?"

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He locked eyes with the dog for a second, then looked back at Laura. "A lot less dead doesn't mean completely alive. Yes, Thorn. Damien Thorn. I remember your Sorting, Ms. Palmer. You mentioned something called the White Lodge."

He patted the dog's head. "This is Nero."

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"I'm willing to work with a high percentage of alive. Beats the alternative." She smiled. "Yes, I did. Never been there, I'm afraid. I spent all my time in its opposite number, the Black Lodge.

Is Nero the only pet you keep here, or does he have a pack to run with?"

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"I don't know. Somebody clearly wanted you dead." He didn't return her smile. "What was it like in there? Was it painful?"

"Nero is my only pet, but the number of animals here seems to increase every day."

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"Interesting way to put it, Mr. Thorn.

...I don't think it quite rose to the level of intent. If Nero were to kill, say, a rabbit for his dinner, would you say he wanted the rabbit dead? That's just a side effect of his eating it. I'm told the man who killed me was inconsolable with grief after I died, so make of that what you will.

As for the Black Lodge - I didn't have any physical sensations, so no, not painful that way. It was - distressing. If you can imagine having to walk through a gauntlet of every bit of guilt or fear or shame you ever felt magnified and made real - and something tells me you can - that's roughly what the Black Lodge is like."

She looked down at Nero. "There are indeed. Particularly cats. Unfortunately, most of them are full-fledged students, so I wouldn't advise letting him chase them."

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"Then there's no merit to the rumors I've heard about supernatural forces at work in your death. How interesting."

He smiled, but there was no warmth in his expression. "That sounds... well, it sounds very familiar. Almost like Hell, I would imagine."

"Nero won't chase anything unless I tell him to. He's a very well-trained dog."

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"Oh, I wouldn't say that. I called him a man for convenience's sake, but a man wasn't all he was."

She smiled, equally coldly. "Almost, but not quite. More like purgatory, because in theory one had a chance to get out of the Black Lodge if you could make it through the gauntlet. I know of very few who ever did, though."

Laura glanced at Nero. "I can see that. And very...devoted...to his master, even as dogs go." She looked back up at Thorn. "Why, I might almost think he was telling you something, right after you called him back to you."

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"Ah, but getting out of Purgatory was only a matter of time. Eventually, everyone there would go to Heaven. I see that you're not quite so lucky."

He rubbed the dog's ear. "Of course he was! He was telling me that he's hungry. A big dog like this eats a lot."

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"Yes, I imagine he does," she said drily. "A lot of what, though?"

"So you don't find Hogwarts very Heavenly then? After the Black Lodge, it seems close enough to paradise for my tastes, certainly."

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"Steak. Why should I eat like a king and give him packaged food?

If Hogwarts was Heavenly, do you thing there would be people like him here?" He tilted his head toward Adam.

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"Adam?" She looked at the mild-mannered blond boy. "Well - yeah. Why *not* people like Adam?"

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"It wouldn't exactly do to have the Antichrist roaming around the Heavenly plains, now would it?"

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Laura's eyebrows went up.

"Adam? Adam's the antichrist?" She looked at Adam, then back at Thorn. "I guess it depends on whether you get into Heaven based on what you do, or based on what you are. I don't remember - never paid that much attention to Christian theology, since it didn't seem to relate to my life all that much. The Salish Indian religions had more bearing really."

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Adam was headed down to the Great Hall for dinner when he saw Damien. He smiled.

"Hi, Damien. Happy birthday!"

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Laura smiled. "Well now. Happy birthday, Mr. Thorn."

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"Thank you."

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"Hello, Adam, and thank you. How are you this evening?"

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"Great, thanks!" replied Adam cheerfully. "How about you? Gonna do somethin' fun tonight to celebrate?"

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"You know, the usual. Murder a few people, take over the world, that kind of thing."

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Adam laughed. "Not if I have anythin' to say about it. How about a cake and ice cream instead? You know, I hear that in America they have shops that sell thirty-nine different flavours of ice cream. Is that true?"

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"Yes, it is. You can get almost any flavor imaginable. So what do you do for your birthdays, Adam?"

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"Wow," said Adam reverentially, then after a moment he returned to the present. "Uhm, oh, just the usual stuff. Mum makes a cake, my sister calls, Dad invites over Anathema and Newt and I invite Brian, Pepper, and Wensleydale and we play games and sing and eat and talk and have a good time. Then I get presents. Aziraphale always sends a book and Crowley always forgets. I guess it's a tradition now." He smiled wistfully for a moment. "Didn't do that this year, though, 'cause I was here. How about you?"

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"Ah, so that's what you do for fun, Mr. Thorn! Once we ruled out dens of iniquity and women of ill repute, I couldn't help but wonder!"

"Hi Adam. Great to see you again." Laura smiled.

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"Hi, Laura. Are you settlin' in well?"

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