Chapter 3: Afterward
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The days that followed the Great Attack were catastrophic. Minerva McGonagall thought she was lucky to have transfiguration tests to correct to prevent her from thinking too much about it.
Indeed, the whole castle was boiling. Wizarding Britain as a whole was actually reeling in shock. And with good reason! Lord Voldemort, the great black mage had, at last, been overthrown, and by a child of five years old! Neville Longbottom, the Survivor. No one knew how that child had achieved the feat, bur he had done it. Dumbledore had said so after coming from the safe house where Neville had been. He had supposedly returned a spell of death to its shipper. The witch scoffed. It was unheard of.
The parents of the young Neville, having survived the attack of their manor by a stroke of luck, had found their son soundly sleeping at the safe house they had left him in. The Rottingpots had not survived the Dark Lord, but the child Neville Longbotom had. Near Neville's bed laid the robes of the most frightening black mage in England. It was a miracle really. Perhaps that was the only good news. In this assault, a number of wizards perished and even more were still missing. Students of Hogwarts had become orphans overnight, many had lost at least one member of their family.
The transfiguration professor graded harshly a paper, frowning at the terrible spelling. She closed her eyes. At least, if there was something to be proud of these days, it was that no one had thought of taking back their children from Hogwarts. The school was deemed the most secure fortress of England.
Minerva McGonagall looked out at the window. The sun was high in the sky but none of its ray seemed to warm the grounds.
Even the castle is mourning. thought the witch.
She chased away her dark thoughts, returning to her papers. She could not help but glance at the daily newspaper that laid abandonned on the corner of her desk. In big bold letters, the journal read "MASS INCARCERATION FOR DEATH EATERS FROM MINISTRY BATTLE".
English society was very upset by the large-scale attack and was still trying to get back on its feet. If physical damages had been easy to repair, it appeared the floo travel had been hit the worst and the system had yet to come back. Ministry officials were all over London trying to fix the mess the Death-Eaters had done.
Minerva sniffed. The savages had done numerous damages indeed. Fortunately, the Auror taskforce was already proceeding at arrestations in mass. She herself had been examined by the authorities ... the gall of them. She frowned once again at the newspaper. She wondered how many of the Death-Eaters the Ministry was putting away were actually guilty of the offense the ministry claimed. Even if she had no interest in people who had chosen to follow the Dark Lord in his insanity, she certainly could recognize how the ministry was wrongly doing its job. Her own memorable meeting with Aurors had gone poorly even though she had thought herself to be untouchable by such scandalous rumours of her being at the ministry that night.
"There are always people to profit from such chaos." had reminded Dumbledore when she had announced she doubted the Department of Law Enforcement was doing its job properly.
It had obviously been a jab at the Malfoys and Lestranges. They had been officialy pardoned, thought to be under the imperious. She personnaly doubted it. Bellatrix Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy especially were frauds.
The transfiguration professor flicked her wand to take out another paper to grade. The movement had caused the journal to shift, allowing Minerva to read another article. "DUELIST WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP TO BE REPORTED". Minerva had had to read the title twice to realize what it meant. She did not know which strings the British government had pulled to obtain the report of the whole championship, but they had done it right. Considering the top duelists and all time favorite of the competition were Rabastan Lestrange and Bellatrix Lestrange, she actually imagined a lot of gold went into that particular bribe. All of that to allow the two of them to participate. Their trials had been one of the first and shortest of the Death-Eater trials.
It was aberrant but England's reputation in duel worldwide mattered. She was forced to admit the deranged witch and her brother in law were formidable opponents. She imagined the Malfoys must have went through the same ordeal and got off scott free. She would have read something about Lucius Malfoy, wealthiest man of Great-Britain, being incarcerated otherwise.
Practically every Pureblood family had been put through the ringer. The witch wrinkled her nose. She had exchanged a few letters with a long time friend, Augusta Longbottom, who happened to be a Pureblood and not one to be a purist. She had had many words to describe the ministry officials who had dared to trespass on her property.
The teacher shook her head, trying not to let out a small smile appear on her face. She could perfectly imagine the colorful words Augusta had thrown their way. She was abrupt that way.
The story served as a reminder though. A reminder that the ministry was in shambles, trying to grasp at straws. And most of all, the ministry was trying to put all the blame on the old families. Resentment was sure to built once again. Pining and simplifying the conflict to muggleborn hate was also sure to wound many prestigious and arrogant people who prided themselves on their controversial merit.
Minerva sighed as she remembered how there had been trials for Fabian and Gideon Prewett post mortem. That had been a significant blunder she doubted Molly Weasley, the only sister of the twins, would ever forgive. On the same vein, Sirius Black had been suspected also of Death-eater activities. Anyone who knew him would have scoffed at the idea. Unfortunatey, bearing the Black surname had its drawbacks. She had heard officials had come at the wizard while he was in service.
"Sirius retired from the Auror force." her fellow professor had said, a goblin who went by the name of Filius Flitwick. "At least this is what the papers said. I heard even his mother was disbelieving of the decision."
"No doubt he was forced to retire." she had replied sharply. She shared a knowing glance with the small professor.
Speaking of Sirius, the latter had not recovered from the great attack either. Somewhere during the night, he had been struck by a spell. His breathing had become labored ever since. The professor thought it was a combination of both a misfired spell and the panicked state he was in that had resulted in his condition. No doubt that the disappearance of his godson had taken its toll on the poor wizard as well. The witch flexed her jaw a couple times to try and chase away her dark thoughts. It did not work.
Sirius Black had returned to the Potter house in Godric's hollow, right on the Potters heels. What they had seen had been, as she had understood it, a charred village whose ashes still kept floating in the air. The whole place had been burnt to the ground with no clue to Harry Potter's whereabouts. The Potters house had hardly been the only household attacked. Almost every house had been subjected to the same fate. 67 missing people or killed in action. This was the official body count. From memory, the massacre of Goddric's Hollow was one of the most murderous one.
Minerva swished her wand once more to get another paper graded. An open drawer with a few quills snapped.
She closed it reflexively, refusing to think any more of the horrors of Godric's Hollow.
She iddly thought about the small confusion and sadness on Albus Dumbledore when he had heard the news as well. She suspected the old wizard knew something about Godric's Hollow attack. She pursed her lips trying to imagine what this could entail.
Nothing came to her mind.
The aged witch got up and walked towards the window. From there she saw Hogwarts students. Obviously, the older ones realized that outside the school, the wizarding world was recovering badly from an atttack and barely stood on its feet. Even from her vantage point, she could see their mourning faces.
Students who had lost a family member were common enough now. It had been heartbreaking in the morning to stay at the head table and watch owls deliver mail to them. She dreaded to see another white owl accompanied by a black letter. Those ones were telltale signs of a family member's death.
With a sigh of frustration McGonagall came out of the transfiguration room where she had sat down to correct the students' copies. With great strides, she turned around the corner. Arriving in an inner courtyard, the witch ignored the whispers of the students and stood before the statue of a gargoyle. After the latter had finally answered her call, it opened the passage for the professor with a great deal of insults. She smirked when she thought the gargoyle had nothing on Augusta.
As she took the now revealed stairs to go see the school Headmaster, she wondered if she would be getting another batch of funeral letters to deliver. She certainly hoped not.
The door was ajar. The witch had barely reached it that she heard the Headmaster's voice peaked through.
"Enter professor, please."
"Albus." she answered as a way of greeting. She did not want to dillydally here. She repressed a sigh as she realized Albus Dumbledore would not be the one to break the small tension rising. "News?" she asked sharply.
Sad eyes stared back at her, their original twinkling gone.
Minerva McGonagall understood the message well enough. With a sharp intake of air, her right hand involuntarily went up to her chest. What was she going to tell her students now?
"I am afraid Voldemort" the transfiguration professor's face turned sour at the mention of the name. It had been a taboo not too long ago, and she would rather not hear it anymore. She had enough problems to deal with already. She definitely saw a trickle of amusement fizzle through the Headmaster's eyes at her reaction though. "left many rampaging followers. If he is gone as they say in the journals, I doubt he is dead." Albus pointed to a few instruments on his desk. "My measures tell me he is in hiding, weak and vulnerable, but not dead. As of now, wizards and witches rejoice his disappearance."
A gasp escaped McGonagall. When would this nightmare be finally over?
"Do you know how long it will take for him to come back?" for there was no doubt that if the Dark Lord was not dead, he would come back. Hopefully not too soon.
The Headmaster shook his head in lieu of an answer.
"And what of the Longbottom's boy?" she finally asked. She had refrained from asking her friend Augusta about it, as she knew the witch would not have answered her.
"Considering the state of the country, "began Dumbledore, "and how Voldemort's faithful followers will rally to him in a heartbeat if needed" Minerva flinched again at the name, "The Longbottoms thought it preferable to hide the boy from the the prying eyes of the Wizarding world."
Minerva could at least understand the Longbottoms did not want fame to get in the head of their child. She recognized Augusta firm hand there. A sad trilling noise emitted from Dumbledore's Phoenix. McGonagall gazed at the bird for a small amount of time, not knowing exactly what to say.
This time, it was the Headmaster that broke the silence. He woke up and with a complicate hand gesture opened a drawer. His personal pensieve laid there, imbued with a silvery light, proof that many memories laid floating upon the surface.
"Let's hope the sequel is more cheerful Minerva, because that's absolutely all we have left." whispered the wizard.
As Minerva McGonagall was about to leave the office, she noticed the fragment of memory that Albus Dumbledore had left on his pensieve was none other than the Lestrange trial. Minerva frowned as she looked at the unmistakable face of one Rodolphus Lestrange staring hard right back at her. His ominous eyes revealing nothing but fury.
She went away with another sigh and once out of the corridors of the castle, she looked up at the sky. The future remained bleak.
Sirius Black was a generally cheerful and very smiling man. He could turn everything into a joke. But above all, he had never given up. It had at the same time infuriated his family and done them proud. He was certain he had not imagined the fleeting smiles that had appeared on his parents face whenever he had insulted a higher up when he was a child.
Sirius closed his eyes. He wondered what it said about his character if his only fond memories of his parents were of those dreadful balls.
The wizard looked at his pocket watch - a present from James Potters parents when they had took him in when he had left his actual family estate. Never to return.
It was 3 in the afternoon, and he had not left his bed.
Ever since he had been sacked from his job at the ministry, his day schedule had been terrible.
It did not help that his best friend, James Potter was in shock since the Great Attack.
James had not been at the ministry when he had been fired. He was on a month long pause officialy. He wondered if ministry officials would come up at his place too. The Bones had had a nasty surprise too.
Sirius tried to stop a stangled sob from escaping his lips. The truth was his best friend was in grief over Harry's death, Lily was in denial, Remus was nowhere to be seen - and Sirius suspected ministry officials had once again stroke, and most of all Peter, the rat, had betrayed them for a cause he did not even believe in. Sirius smashed a random vase to the ground to vent his frustration.
In the end, he could not even catch the rat. He had fled before he could have given the chase.
He had failed, and Sirius was wounded. His usual smiling face stared back at him angrily. Today, Sirius Black was in a dark mood. He went out of the house and down the stairs. He looked around and pulled a cigarette out of his pocket. It was a very curious gesture: Sirius Black had never smoked, the smell reminding him too much of his childhood home.
Dressed in black robes, he headed straight to Goddric's Hollow cemetery, a coughing fit signaling his presence to curious muggle passerbys. By the time they turned their head to look at the noise, Sirius Black had been long gone.
He found the Potters there, as he had expected. His eyes were attracted to the statue they stood in front of. A memorial for fallen wizards and witches of Godric's Hollow night. Sirius stared at the many names etched on the surface, searching for his godson's. He found it right where Lily's hands were. James stood behind her. The latter did not seem to have slept in days and his eyes were red with tears. He held in his arms Maureen, who seemed to be sleeping tiredly.
No words were exchanged. A couple sobs from Lily had Sirius hugging her to try and comfort her.
He knew how empty his embrace could feel.
The automnal cold was biting his face, more so than the tears running down his cheeks.
In a daze, Sirius noticed James had gotten his foot healed quick enough not to have too many sequel. He would have a wooden foot for the rest of his life now. His heart clenched at the sight.
James's original foot had been too burnt to be used, and for some reason regrowing potions had not worked.
He himself had yet to go to the hospital.
He did not want to set foot in the nightmarish establisment. He dreaded the sight, the smell and the hearing of the place. For now, his strange breathing would stay that way. He would see about getting a potion tonight.
The crowd parts. I freeze.
They should not do that.
It feels like I've been sentenced to death.
She presses her hand against mine. Again. I think she knows what it reminds me of.
We walk slowly. Down the open street. People call out to us.
No.
They call out to her. Because they do not know who I am.
A shadow of a smile threatens to spill on my face.
I would have hated this situation back then. Now, I embrace it.
She execrates it.
Time passed by slowly.
The wounds and scars closed until no more marks were left. On the surface. Wizarding families never forgot the Great Attack and the many slights they endured in the following days. The seeds of war had been sown.
It was during summer 1991 that Hogwarts letters were sent. Letters that would see the Boy-Who-Lived finally enter Hogwarts. Owls flew by night and deposited the next morning a letter to the new students, all over-excited to finally be able to study at Hogwarts. Each chosen house was invaded by the cries of joy of children. And the Weasley family was not spared either.
It was an overexcited Ron who burst into the Burrow's kitchen, obviously waiting at the window for his owl. His elder brothers all laughed at their younger brother's antics. The stress from receiving an owl was gone now that they had been admitted at Hogwarts. Fortunately the owls did not take long to come over the Burrow. Molly Weasley spied a barrage of them coming through the window, each owl carrying a letter. One of which was dedicated to Ron.
It was therefore necessary to leave for Diagon Alley.
"No no Ron! We're waiting for your father to come back." Molly Weasley looked at her beautiful magic clock. She had 9 needles each representing a loved one. Suddenly Mr. Weasley's needle moved and stopped on "on the move."
"We are going one by one. First your father, then Percy. The twins will follow. Ron after him and I will take Ginny with me. Is that undrstood? And don't forget to articulate!"
"Yes Mum," the children answered in chorus.
Mrs. Weasley looked at them suspiciously, curious that nothing was happening today yet, when Mr Weasley broke into the room. He cheerfully greeted everyone, took some food and waited in line behind his children.
The Weasleys burst into the Leaky cauldron and headed back to the rear to enter Diagon Alley.
As every time they went, Molly directed her wand on the bricks and opened the magic passage. And like every other time they came to Diagon Alley, the children marveled at the sight.
And the disputes began.
"No we have to go to the quidditch store first! Last year we did what you wanted!"
"No way, Zonko first! It's over there and they make the best jokes in the world!"
"No, I'm the eldest, I get to make the decision! We'll go to Flourish and Bott"
"What no ! Dad! Say something! It's unfair that Percy gets to choose!"
Four pairs of eyes stared with hope at Mr Weasley. The poor man began to sweat bullets, trying to cath his wife attention. Sh ewas putting on an effort not to meet his eyes.
"Let's go to Gringotts first and we will decide on the way. A group will go with your mother to Flourish and Bott and another will go with me for the rest of the supplies. We'll see the other stores afterwards. Right?"
Looks that promised a thousand revenge if they could not go to the stores they wanted to told Mr. Weasley the day was going to be long for him. Finally, after having been able to remove the few galleons that remained in the family vault, the Weasleys all went together towards the book store. Another fight had erupted on the way, which resulted in the twins being forbidden to go to the Quidditch store.
Once in the library, Arthur Weasley spied both Sirius and James. He had worked from time to time with the latter and only heard from the unfamous Sirius. He hoped the rumours about his involment with the Dark Lord were unfounded. The man loked a bit too cheery for his own tastes though. The two men made great gestures to greet them.
"It's been a long time Arthur!" greeted James. His hands were foraging through a pile of books. Arthur noticed these were the first year spell books.
"Hello James. You girl is starting Hogwarts this year?" he asked.
"No, this is for Lily. I don't why she needed those but ... well. She wanted them."
"She mentioned something about needing to rewrite the curriculum." added Sirius after a small coughing fit. "I guess she wanted to see what first years were going to learn." The man was backed against a wall, a manic look in his eyes.
James waved. "At this rate, she's going to teach Maureen herself." he laughed. "That is going to be grand. Come on mate, we need to change the materials. That's going to make Lily mad."
"Huh, sure." Sirius smiled, "That's your loss anyway." he barked.
Arthur sweatdropped at the antics. He hoped his twins did not take after James and Sirius. Thinking about them, he turned his head to see them whispering at each other and pointing at Percy. Arthur pursed his lips. Percy was going to be the end of another joke.
"Arthur, come." Molly Weasley, his wife called out to him. He excused himself from James and Sirius and came next to his wide. She was at the counter, handing the clerk the few galleons needed.
"We'll have to go to Madam Malkins to see about getting second hand robes. She might have a few of use for Percy. I swear he grew up since the beginnning of the summer."
As everyone came out of the shop, an unpleasant sight for the Weasleys came to them. A tall man with smooth blond platinum hair and a large cane stood in the street. Two children by his side and his wide right behind him. Mr. Weasley suddenly became red and begged his children to pass quickly without making too much noise so as to not attract attention. He had had an already unpleasant encounter with the man this smorning at the Ministry. Unforunately, Lucius malfoy had seen him.
As he hoped to pass by unoticed - and he knew a family of redheads was hard to miss in a crowd, Lucius Malfoy 's cane - apostrophed him:
"Weasley, surprising to see you and your ... family out on such a day" he drawled out the words.
Mr. Weasley became even redder if possible and grumbled a "Lucius. Even a family like myself needs to go shopping."
"Yes, the standards of this alley are rather low I guess." quipped back the blond man. "Draco, Xerxès. Let's change shops. If this kind of people can afford anything there, it must mean this establishment is not respectable anymore."
Arthur Weasley tried not to get angry at the wizard. He stopped his sons from saying anything regretful but he definitely did not miss the very rude gestures his twins sent.
"As pleasant as their standing suggest, father." sneered one of the boy by Lucius side. Arthur could not stop the indignified noise coming from his throat. He saw Narcissa Malfoy, garbed in an elegant and pricey robe, sneer at his family. Her glassy eyes froze Arthur's veins.
"Come on, now! I need to get those books on fossils for Grandma." mumbled disinteretedly the second Malfoy boy. he took his mother hand and pushed her toward the library. "You never know when she might need it."
Arthur Weasley clenched his jaw when he saw both Malfoys look him up and down with the same facial expression as they passed by. he heard them exchange a small laugh on their way.
Arthur Weasley did not need a mirror to know his ear had become redder than his eyes. He unconsciously shuffled his feet.
"But look at that, James!" Sirius's voice interrupted Arthur. "If it is not my dear cousin. Cissy how are you doing these days? Never mind, no one cares." The only reaction Narcissa Malfoy gave was a small eye squint. She pushed her son in the shop, disappearing without a second glance back at her husband inside. She whoefully ignored Sirius Black. Arthur thought he was a bit deranged himself. The same glassy eyes looked back at him. he definitely could see the family ressemblance with Narcissa Malfoy.
"Black" a smooth voice washed in.
"Lucius." greeted Sirius. "Why aren't you running after Cissy? She's long gone by now." his tone was low.
Arthur closed his eyes and rushed his own family out of the beginning a fight. He had seen Lucius drawing his wand.
"Draco, move it. There are too many blood traitors around."
The reaction was immediate. Wands were raised faster than the eye could blink. On the side lines, Arthur saw his wife glaring at the twins to dare them not to move. Arthur had a tight grasp on his daughter and youngest son.
The tense situation got quickly weird. A couple wands drawn in a busy alley attracted too many attention, and Arthur knew none of the party involved would enjoythis kind of attention. As if to prove his point, Sirius went off laughing. Almost immediately, all wands disappeared.
The Weasleys therefore went the other way of the Malfoy, carefully avoiding them, and went to the magic entertainment stores.
After a good hour, Mr. Weasley took Ron to the wizard's dress shop. He let him go in to get fitted.
Unfortunately for Ron, he found Draco Malfoy there. They were the only two in the shop. With the owner.
"Weasley, finally have enough money to buy suitable dresses I see." smirked the arrogant blond boy.
Ron flushed but chose not to say anything. Draco immediately pounced.
"I bet you're gonna finish at Hufflepuff. But it is always better than Gryffindor. You are rather forgetable."
"Shut up, Malfoy" groused Ron.
"Oh but the weasel can talk." The fitting session was short but tense. As soon as Draco Malfoy had left his place on the stool, deposing a heavy golden sack on the counter to pay for his clothes, he drawled. "Do not worry, even people like you can find a place in the trash."
Ron was left as red as his father had been before.
When the young wizard left the shop, he was still furious.
"Don't think about it too much, Ron", reassured his father when he had told him what had happened. "There are always people who will try their best at putting down others. It just means they are hurt themselves, and trying to hide it."
His father took the bag of clothes from his hands, carrying th eheavy robes Ron had bought with the couple galleons his mother had given him. They quickly found a way to the Leaky cauldron to meet with the rest of the family. Ron smiled as he saw Fred and George pull another prank on Percy. The new prefect badge looking all green instead of the shiny red.
Just as the two redheads were approaching the other Weasleys, the conversation suddenly stopped.
"What?" eloquently said Ron. He touched his nose. "I have something on my face?"
Discreetly, Fred or George pointed their fingers behind him.
"Neville Longbottom is there." awed Ginny, her eyes were shining brightly.
As if a spell ad been broken, an immediate clamor rose. Wizards and witches pressed themselves to catch a glimpse of the Survivor and to try and talk to him. Ron noticed the black haired famous wizard seemed embarrassed by all this attention. Unfortunately, in wanting to move away fro all this attention, he had moved a lock of hair that hid his thin scar in the form of a lightning bolt. This simple move attracted even more attention from the journalists. Ron barely had anymore time to look at the famous family before he was pulled in by his father to the floo.
They were going back home. And Ron was absolutely exhausted.