We're almost coming to the end of the story, can you believe it? I named this chapter after a song from the musical Les Miserables because it seemed appropriate. Also because with quarantine, there is literally nothing but empty chairs and empty tables.
Am I going crazy? Maybe. (I honestly wouldn't be surprised)
Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy this chapter and know that it has been an absolute joy writing for all of you.
Yours truly,
Sword Gold
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I'm not nearly as kind as J.K because I would do so much worse to Wormtail than what she did ...
Empty Chairs and Empty Tables
"Is it really true that You-Know-Who has returned?" asked a wizard.
Gasps of horror rippled from the surrounding assembly of witches and wizards as Dumbledore nodded, his blue eyes misted over mournfully.
"I am afraid that the rumours are indeed true. After murdering young student and Triwizard Champion Cedric Diggory, Lord Voldemort has returned to his full power."
"And Mad-Eye?" piped another witch.
"Alive but still recovering," replied Dumbledore.
"What about Crouch? We have his testament, don't we Albus?"
The Headmaster paused, his gaze suddenly darkening as he shook his head.
"Mr Crouch's testimony has been rendered unusable on account of a Dementor performing the Kiss of Death on the man when being escorted by Cornelius Fudge."
More cries of dismay echoed throughout the office before the professor continued.
"There is, however a silver lining to this. When under the imprisonment of Barty Crouch Junior, Alastor says that the wizard mentioned where his master was staying," explained Dumbledore. "And, first, with the disappearance of its muggle gardener Frank Bryce and, after Harry's account of the graveyard I believe that it can indeed be confirmed that Voldemort has been residing at the Riddles' Mansion."
There was a slight pause as the wizard regarded each and every one of us.
"With Harry's escape, of course, it is entirely unlikely for Voldemort to stay at his late father's house for long but there is still, as Alastor insists, nonetheless, a possibility …"
"I'll go," I said. "I studied the Riddles' Mansion when I was still in search for 'R' so I know its layout inside and out. Besides, I'm the only person who can break through their defences without detection."
"Very well," Dumbledore inclined his head.
"No, I won't let you."
It was the first thing that Charlie had said since we'd convened in the Headmaster's office under Dumbledore's instructions.
I paused, his eyes seeking mine with a sort of fire that I'd never seen before as he grabbed me by the arm.
"I have to," I replied.
His fingers dug into the sleeve of my jacket.
"Then let me come with you," he implored fiercely, "For back up at least …"
"I can handle myself. Besides, it has to be me – you know that."
I reach up to cup his freckled cheek in the palm of my hand and he slowly yet surely leaned into it before letting out a long sigh.
"Promise me you'll be careful?" he murmured eventually.
"Always."
"We will await your response when you return," said the professor, "Good luck."
I nodded, pressing a quick kiss to Charlie's lips before I mounted my broom and took off from the balcony.
I apparated outside the wrought iron gate of what was the Riddle's House in my Animagus form. All of the villagers of Little Hangleton referred to it like that, despite the fact that it had been many years since the Riddle family had lived there. It stood on a hill overlooking the village, some of its windows boarded, tiles missing from its roof, and ivy spreading unchecked over its face. Once a fine-looking manor, and easily the largest and grandest building for miles around, the house was now damp, derelict and unoccupied.
Despite all of the embroidered stories that circled about the old place, everybody who lived in Little Hangleton agreed that it was "creepy", some even claiming that it was haunted, and, upon looking up at the stone mansion it really was no wonder why people thought so.
Shuddering slightly with my senses on edge, I padded towards the house, squeezing through a small gap in the rusted fence before making my way up the winding weed-infested pathway that led to the dilapidated building. The front door of the Riddle House bore no sign of being forced in, nor did any of the windows. After making sure that I was completely alone I transformed back into my usual form and whipped out my Invisibility cloak. Frayed from use and age, my cloak wasn't nearly as pristine as what it had used to be in my sixth year, but it still did the job. Pulling the cowl over my head I tapped my wand on the handle and opened the door noiselessly.
I let myself into the cavernous kitchen, recalling the last time that I had been here. It had been only weeks after my brother's death when I had started scouting out this place as a possible headquarters for 'R' and their Cabal.
I didn't dare light my wand, trusting my memory instead, as I groped my way through the hall, my senses overwhelmed by the stench of decay, ears pricked as the patter of rats scurried overhead. I could just make out the outline of footprints and a cane imprinted in the thick layer of dust that clung to the stone staircase and frowned. They were old.
"Homenum Revelio."
Sure enough, the spell confirmed that (save perhaps the rats) there was no other living soul in the building but me. I gulped, unsure whether the fact relieved or disappointed me as I silently climbed up the stairs.
I could make out a door hanging on its hinges when I reached the landing and turned right towards it when something hard hit my shoe.
"Lumos."
Light flooded from the tip of my wand, illuminating the path in front of me and my heart froze. I had stepped on an old walking stick, and, lying crumpled beside it …
"Oh no."
My voice died in my throat as I stared down at what was the rotting corpse of Frank Bryce.
I decided to bury Frank in the garden by what must have been his cottage, making quick work of the icy solid ground before I lay the body in what would become his final resting place. I completed the grave with a loose stone that I'd taken from the house, engraving the man's name with magic before I placed it at its head.
"I'm sorry," I murmured, shutting my eyes as I touched the gravestone.
He, like Cedric, had been murdered in cold blood and for what? Being in the way?
I shook my head. It reminded me of Rowan all over again. Neither one of them deserved this.
That's when I heard the snap of a twig and twirled around, immobilising the spout wizard where he squatted in the bushes.
He squeaked, his pale watery eyes widening with surprise as he fell face-first into the snow; frozen stiff like a wooden marionette.
"I thought I smelt a rat," I murmured, my voice harsh as I kicked him over.
Peter Pettigrew's nose quivered – every bit as rat-like as my scowl deepened.
"You know when I finally learnt who you were I didn't know what I found more disturbing – the fact that you sold your best friends to Voldemort or the knowledge that you'd been sleeping in the same bed as a teenage boy for twelve years."
I could feel my blood boil as I clutched my wand, angrier than I'd ever been for a long time as I crouched down so we were face-to-face.
"Oh don't worry – I'm not going to kill you, Peter," I whispered gently, "I'm just going to make you forget that this ever happened."
He made a silent whimper, sweat dripping down his forehead as I raised my wand.
"Obliviate."
Charlie was still waiting, pacing the corridor outside Dumbledore's office and raking his hands through his hair before he saw me.
"Oh, thank Merlin," he breathed, wrapping me in a bone-crushing embrace.
"Told you I'd be careful," I replied
He didn't respond; his face buried into the crook of my neck as I felt the flutter of his pulse still racing against my own.
"I know … I just worry," he murmured, his voice muffled against my collar as I ran my fingers soothingly over his orange hair.
"I know."
We stayed like that for what could've lasted for an eternity until I let out a reluctant sigh.
"I still have to report my findings."
"That you do." Charlie nodded; pressing his lips against my forehead before he let me go.
"Wait for me?" I asked.
He flashed me a soft grin, "Always."
"You're back," Dumbledore said, inclining his head from his desk as I stepped back into his office.
"I am," I nodded.
Already the assembly of witches and wizards had long since departed so to draw as very little attention to the Order as possible. Fawkes crooned softly from his golden perch. Dumbledore looked up from his piece of parchment, folding his hands over his desk as he waited for me to continue.
"I found the body of the muggle gardener that you mentioned, Frank Bryce."
The headmaster sighed, a resigned sadness misting over his blue eyes before he inclined his head. "I was afraid that might be the case. I assume it would be the same for Miss Bertha Jorkins?"
I nodded, "I couldn't find her body, but I did manage to locate her wand."
I took out what remained of the witch's wand and handed it to him. The wand itself had been split in half, dangling by a single thread of frayed unicorn hair. It reminded me too much of my first wand after Rakepick had destroyed it.
"I see," he said. "I knew from Barty Junior's testament that she was dead, but to see her wand …" he shook his head before he quickly returned to his old enigmatic self. "Any trouble on the way?"
"Well, I did happen to bump into a certain Peter Pettigrew," I admitted, scowling at the mention of his name. "But I don't think he'll be sniffing around anymore, not soon anyway …"
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.
"I didn't kill him," I supplied quickly. "I questioned him and removed his memory. Not even Voldemort will be able to trace it back to us."
"It seems that you have grown into quite the talented Legilimens," he pursed his lips, his eyes sparkling behind his moon-crested spectacles as he inclined his head.
"Thank you for doing this," he replied, "I am sure it was not easy to face one of the people who were responsible for the loss of so many loved ones."
I averted my gaze. Of course, he knew.
Jacob, Rowan, and now Cedric: How many more innocents would die in the war to come?
"Listen, professor …"
"Please, do call me Albus," hummed the headmaster, "You are no longer a student, nor am I your teacher."
"Yes, pro-I mean, Albus," I corrected myself. "I think that I found something that you need to know …"
Dumbledore pursed his lips. "Yes, you're quite right, I think that for now at least, it would be best if we keep this between ourselves."
We stood in silence on the hilltop at Catchpole Ottery St as the assembly of wizards passed us down the aisle carrying the polished coffin of Cedric Diggory on their shoulders.
It was almost surreal, watching as the black and yellow shrouded casket was slowly lowered into the ground. I shut my eyes, biting down on my bottom lip until I tasted blood. None of it seemed real: not the coffin, or the headstone that had been delicately carved out with magic, or even Cedric's parents who wept at front; their pale faces etched with grief as their shoulders heaved. In fact, there was still a tiny part of my brain that seemed convinced that Cedric wasn't really dead. He couldn't be.
He was too brilliant, too young to be dead … Just like Rowan; the voice rang in my head.
Yet reality mocked me with its unavoidable truth, shuddering through me as the coffin reached the bottom with a definite thud.
He was gone. He was really gone.
Cedric was dead. Rowan was dead. Jacob was dead.
They were all dead. I felt dead.
Perhaps they were all looking over us from wherever one went after death. Heaven? Hell?
No, this was Hell I corrected myself – standing here, unable to do anything but just stand completely numb, completely helpless in the face of Death. A small part of me wondered whether this was how Sirius had felt, cold and alone while he rotted in Azkaban for twelve long years …
I wasn't alone though. I could feel Charlie's hand, shaking in mine as he squeezed it tightly and I knew at once that it was his touch that was keeping me from falling into the same abyss as that coffin.
It was his touch that kept me alive.
And, as long as I had that, everything would be all right.
Well, that was it! There's still, of course, the Epilogue to go but please let me know in your reviews if you want me to continue this with a new 'Order of the Phoenix' based fanfiction.
I'll be eagerly awaiting your response! - S.G.
