Early Monday morning, before the rest of the castle awoke, four
bodies crept towards Albus Dumbledore's office. He had graciously allowed
them to use his fireplace to travel by Floo powder. In his grief-stricken
mind, Ron had forgotten that Ginny wasn't of age yet.
They travelled one by one, Harry going last. Dumbledore had yet to return but had sent them an owl late last evening to give them permission to use his office. The last sight Harry saw before travelling through the emerald flames was Fawkes' brilliant head bowing, as if paying his last respects to the fallen Weasley.
Harry was greeted by Mrs. Weasley, who had been hugging and kissing her children only moments before he arrived. "Harry, dear," she said, smiling at him and holding him at arm's length. It had been quite some time since he had seen her last and he had grown to, not only match her height, but tower above her by a few inches. Her eyes were red and swollen and she looked exhausted. "Thank you so much for coming."
All around them milled people, many whom Harry had never seen before. Mundungus Fletcher was hanging around the doorway, as if waiting for someone to appear. He kept peering around the doorframe, almost nervously, but stopped when he saw Harry looking.
Most of the people in the house were those from the Ministry that happened to escape the raid. Harry heard many of them crying, so relieved that they had been spared, but so upset because so many of their co-workers and friends had been killed. "What are we going to do now?" asked one frightened witch that Harry overheard. "We have no jobs and You-Know-Who's only one step away from total domination!"
What that step was, however, Harry never got to find out. Hermione approached him with tears in her eyes. "Fred and George just arrived," she told him before hurrying off to comfort Ginny some more. Harry looked in the direction of the door and saw a solemn Fred and George shaking hands with Mundungus Fletcher. Neither of them appeared to have been crying, but they looked upset, nonetheless.
Harry never got a chance to talk to them, however, because the ceremony started before he could do much else. He sat in between Ron and Hermione, with Ginny, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley in front of them. The Weasley's living room had been re-arranged to form a makeshift chapel and the silence only enhanced the melancholy of the event.
The man who stood at the front of the provisional chapel introduced himself as Ferdinand Weasley, Arthur Weasley's brother. "I am very saddened by the news of my nephew's death," he began, pausing softly to allow Mrs. Weasley's sobbing to fill the room. "However, as tragic as this may be, I am also incredibly angered that the Dark Lord has gotten away with taking someone so close and dear to us. We have all lost friends and family during this tragic time and it is now that we must bind together to fight the Dark Lord and his troops, to show him that we will not back down without a fight. We will show him that we, alone, can remain just as powerful as he. And we will win this battle."
There were a few cries of sorrow as these words were spoken and Hermione leaned over to whisper to Harry, "He reminds me of Dumbledore and his speeches!"
Harry only nodded. He continued to listen as Percy Weasley's friends and family members each recalled something about him. Ron said a few words about how Percy had been his guide when he first got to Hogwarts, but when Ginny was presented with the idea of speaking about her brother in front of the whole crowd, she shook her head and buried her face in her mother's side, sobs escaping her lips.
When the memorial was over, Harry leaned over to whisper to Hermione. "I thought Percy's body would be brought here before burial."
Hermione immediately looked uncomfortable. "Well, from what I've heard, there wasn't much left to bring back." She grimaced at the thought. "It wasn't pleasant."
Harry felt his stomach lurch. How incredibly awful. Poor Percy couldn't even have a proper burial, all because Voldemort was angry with the world. How extremely unfair. Harry found himself feeling more rage for the one person that had wanted him dead since the day he was born than he ever had before. Voldemort's deal was with him, not with the Weasleys. Why couldn't he take Harry instead? Then Harry would be dead, he wouldn't care anymore. Maybe then Voldemort would leave others in peace.
The four students stayed at the Burrow for four days. When they returned to school on Friday morning, they were surprised to find the castle in a state of panic. "It's none of your business, Potter!" Snape snapped when Harry asked him what was wrong, but Professor McGonagall shot Snape a dirty look.
"The Headmaster is missing," she said softly, a trace of panic in her voice. "We have tried to contact him at Grimmauld Place, but they informed us that he left there three days ago. We have not heard from him since."
"Have you sent an owl?" Hermione questioned, coming up behind Harry. "I'm sure an owl could find him. Or how about Fawkes? He would know for sure."
McGonagall shook her head. "We've tried. Fawkes returned, bearing nothing but tears in his eyes." Her stern eyes misted over. "We're not sure what that means."
Harry's mind went blank. Surely if something had happened to Dumbledore, they would be the first to know. The Order would find him soon and bring him back to the castle. "We need you, Dumbledore," Harry said quietly to himself as he walked solely down the deserted hallway. "Now more than ever."
Days passed with classes continuing, but very few students turned up for them. Harry, Ron, and Hermione spent hours in the Gryffindor common room, awaiting news from Grimmauld Place. Hedwig arrived several times a day with letters from those at Sirius' old home clutched in her beak.
"Hang tight, guys," Hermione read aloud from a letter from Remus Lupin. "Dumbledore's survived a lot worse than this before. I'm sure he'll turn up soon."
"Tonks says she hasn't known Dumbledore as well as we all have but she's convinced he's fine," Harry said, tossing another letter onto the table by the fire. "She's always so optimistic."
"Here's a change for you," Ron said, brandishing the letter he held from Moody. "Moody says that Dumbledore could be dead for days before we'd learn of the news. Chipper fellow."
Hermione sighed, tears appearing in her eyes. "It's so tiring," she whimpered, leaning back into her chair. It seemed to engulf her before their very eyes. "I just hate not knowing what's happening. I hate it!"
"We all do," Harry said comfortingly, "but we've got to hold tight, like Lupin said. I'm sure Dumbledore will be back soon and everything will return to normal." He managed to ignore the sharp shooting pain in his forehead while Hermione gave him disapproving looks.
"I hope you're right, Harry," is all she would say. "I hope you're right."
Since all trips to Hogsmeade had been cancelled since the Ministry raid, the entire school was on pins and needles trying to find ways to pass the time. Even Hermione had given up on studying for exams. "There will be no exams if Dumbledore isn't here," she said. Harry thought it wasn't so much the absence of Dumbledore, but the recent attacks that would prevent any exams from being carried out.
Ron and Harry were sitting down by the water on a day in late May, five days after the disappearance of Albus Dumbledore. They were discussing recent events without mentioning Voldemort's name for fear of causing a riot in the schoolyard.
"I wonder what's going to happen next," Ron wondered aloud in a hushed voice. He looked fearful at the prospect of being faced with something serious to deal with and Harry felt somewhat sorry for his friend. "I mean, the Ministry's been raided and Dumbledore's gone. Isn't that what You-Know-Who wants?"
Harry nodded curtly. "Of course. He wants all the power he can get his greedy hands on. Why wouldn't he?"
Ron shook his head. "Not that. But didn't McGonagall say to Snape that the only reason Hogwarts was safe from You-Know-Who is because of Dumbledore? Well, now what will happen because Dumbledore can't be found?" Ron's eyes were wide with fear and Harry thought his friend wasn't much further from bursting into scared tears. "What if we go into Transfiguration one day and You-Know-Who's standing at the front?"
Harry laughed. "Ready to what, teach us?" Ron's hurt expression made Harry regret his laughter. "Look, I'm sorry, Ron, but let's face reality. Voldemort isn't going to come wandering into Hogwarts with the Order still on his trail. Dumbledore or no Dumbledore, the Order of the Phoenix isn't going to let Hogwarts be taken over by Voldemort. He's not in hiding anymore, but he certainly isn't walking down the street, either."
"You're right," Ron said, looking a little more relaxed. "Besides, Dumbledore will be back soon. He will," he insisted, as if trying to convince himself. "And then everything will be fine again." He smiled widely.
Footsteps behind them made them turn in that direction and they saw Hermione walking across the grass towards them. She had a funny look on her face, like she was caught between crying and laughing, and her eyes were glassy and fixed on some distant point. She was walking somewhat erratically, almost like she had had too much to drink.
"Hermione?" Ron questioned as she got closer to them. She looked down but her expression didn't change. "What's wrong?"
"Dumbledore's dead," she told them, her voice almost questioning, like she had to ask herself. "They found him, up in the mountains, somewhere near a cave." She swallowed hard. "Just a few hours ago."
Harry jumped to his feet, unaware that he was standing. He marched up to Hermione's face, and stared into her glassy eyes. "What?" he asked carefully.
Her lower lip was trembling. "I know," she said, coming out of her daze slowly. "I know, Harry, but it's true. McGonagall just told me. She's crying, Hagrid's crying, even Snape's walking about with swollen eyes. It's true, Harry, and there's nothing we can do about it!" Her voice reached a shrill, hysterical pitch and Harry had to shake her by the shoulders, perhaps a little too violently.
"What?" he kept asking, walking around the water's edge. Then he smiled. "How, Hermione? How can Albus Dumbledore be dead? He's the greatest wizard that ever lived. How?"
Hermione shook her head, her tears flowing freely now. "I don't know, Harry. He just is. They don't even know what killed him yet."
Ron was still sitting quietly, having not moved a muscle. His jaw was twitching and for a brief moment, Harry considered the fact that Ron had lost his Headmaster and brother all within a month of each other. However, he didn't have too much time to feel sorry for his friend. His own grief was welling up within him and he felt the incredibly need to release it before it destroyed him.
He turned quickly and began marching up to the castle. Along the way, he passed several students who were crying openly, having just learned the news themselves. He could hear Hermione and Ron (who had seemed to come to life) hurrying after him but that only made him increase his speed. He reached the gigantic door and heaved it open, following the sounds of students' footsteps until he reached Professor McGonagall's office. He thrust open the door without knocking and stepped up to her desk where she was sitting with a tissue held against her eyes.
"Where is he?" Harry demanded, hearing Hermione and Ron hurry in behind him. "Where is Dumbledore?"
McGonagall lifted the tissue from her face and Harry saw that her eyes were swollen and red. She looked at him almost pityingly and reached out a hand, the only true sign of affection Harry had ever seen her use. "Oh, Harry," she said softly, grasping his hand off the desk. "Haven't you heard?"
"I've heard," he said bitterly, snatching his hand back, "but I don't believe. Where is he?" Furious at the silent tones in which the three people in the room were treating him with, he swiped at the pile of papers on the corner of McGonagall's desk. They fluttered to the floor in silence. "Where is he?" he chanted, walking around the room, swiping at odd objects with his hands. "Where is he? Where is he? Where's Dumbledore? Where is he?"
"Potter!" McGonagall stood up but her voice was not angry, just firm. "I understand how you feel but if you can't accept the news with respect, then please leave until you can do so."
Harry looked at the mess he had created. Several of the glass figurines that were sitting so primly on the shelf only moments before when he entered had shattered on the floor of the office. "Just like Ministry members," Harry thought to himself. "The Order will be next, no doubt. It's a chain reaction."
Slowly, Harry backed out of the room. Hermione made a move to go after him but Harry could hear Professor McGonagall instructing her to leave him alone. "He needs his own time," she said softly.
How true that was. For seven years, Harry had looked up to Dumbledore like the grandfather that he had never had. He had trusted him, believed in him. Dumbledore had been truly immortal to him. He was always there during Harry's time of need, to rescue him when he needed it and to save the day in any way possible. He was infallible. How could it be that he was dead?
Harry didn't realize he was crying until he felt a warm tear drip off the end of his nose. He wasn't walking anywhere in particular but soon found himself in front of the stone gargoyle outside Dumbledore's office. He slid to the floor with his back to the wall and leaned his head back against the cool stone. Any moment now Dumbledore would come down those stairs and the gargoyle would leap aside for him. He would look down at Harry and smile and say, "What are you doing out here, Harry? We must get to the supper feast. No time to waste, you know." And Harry would stand up and follow his Headmaster and friend down the hall.
But no such noises came. Silence rang through the hallway and it was deafening. Harry had half a mind to begin singing just to break the silence. Maybe the school song would be nice. Maybe, in a few minutes.
The next time he opened his eyes, Hermione was sitting cross-legged beside him and Ron was pacing the hall in front of him. Upon hearing Hermione's soft sobs and Ron's quiet chants of, "It's going to be alright," Harry wished he hadn't opened his eyes at all.
"You're awake." It was more a statement than a question as Hermione stopped crying long enough to address Harry. "How are you feeling?"
"How do you think I'm feeling?" Harry shot back, jumping to his feet. "And stop muttering!" he hollered at Ron. "Can't you hear that? Listen!" He stopped moving about as Ron and Hermione shared a worried glance. "Silence, guys! Dumbledore should be coming down those stairs any moment, but he won't! He should be sitting at the High Table tonight, eating dinner, but he won't. He should be watching over me for the most critical part of my life, but he won't. He won't ever do these things again because he's gone for good and there's not a damn thing I can do about it!"
He stopped and took a breath, ashamed at his outburst, but he did feel better. He sighed and sat back down on the ground, his head in his hands. Hermione crawled over to him and wrapped her arms around him as he cried softly, then louder. Ron hovered above them uncomfortably, fighting off his own tears. The silence around them continued to ring out. They were truly alone now.
They travelled one by one, Harry going last. Dumbledore had yet to return but had sent them an owl late last evening to give them permission to use his office. The last sight Harry saw before travelling through the emerald flames was Fawkes' brilliant head bowing, as if paying his last respects to the fallen Weasley.
Harry was greeted by Mrs. Weasley, who had been hugging and kissing her children only moments before he arrived. "Harry, dear," she said, smiling at him and holding him at arm's length. It had been quite some time since he had seen her last and he had grown to, not only match her height, but tower above her by a few inches. Her eyes were red and swollen and she looked exhausted. "Thank you so much for coming."
All around them milled people, many whom Harry had never seen before. Mundungus Fletcher was hanging around the doorway, as if waiting for someone to appear. He kept peering around the doorframe, almost nervously, but stopped when he saw Harry looking.
Most of the people in the house were those from the Ministry that happened to escape the raid. Harry heard many of them crying, so relieved that they had been spared, but so upset because so many of their co-workers and friends had been killed. "What are we going to do now?" asked one frightened witch that Harry overheard. "We have no jobs and You-Know-Who's only one step away from total domination!"
What that step was, however, Harry never got to find out. Hermione approached him with tears in her eyes. "Fred and George just arrived," she told him before hurrying off to comfort Ginny some more. Harry looked in the direction of the door and saw a solemn Fred and George shaking hands with Mundungus Fletcher. Neither of them appeared to have been crying, but they looked upset, nonetheless.
Harry never got a chance to talk to them, however, because the ceremony started before he could do much else. He sat in between Ron and Hermione, with Ginny, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley in front of them. The Weasley's living room had been re-arranged to form a makeshift chapel and the silence only enhanced the melancholy of the event.
The man who stood at the front of the provisional chapel introduced himself as Ferdinand Weasley, Arthur Weasley's brother. "I am very saddened by the news of my nephew's death," he began, pausing softly to allow Mrs. Weasley's sobbing to fill the room. "However, as tragic as this may be, I am also incredibly angered that the Dark Lord has gotten away with taking someone so close and dear to us. We have all lost friends and family during this tragic time and it is now that we must bind together to fight the Dark Lord and his troops, to show him that we will not back down without a fight. We will show him that we, alone, can remain just as powerful as he. And we will win this battle."
There were a few cries of sorrow as these words were spoken and Hermione leaned over to whisper to Harry, "He reminds me of Dumbledore and his speeches!"
Harry only nodded. He continued to listen as Percy Weasley's friends and family members each recalled something about him. Ron said a few words about how Percy had been his guide when he first got to Hogwarts, but when Ginny was presented with the idea of speaking about her brother in front of the whole crowd, she shook her head and buried her face in her mother's side, sobs escaping her lips.
When the memorial was over, Harry leaned over to whisper to Hermione. "I thought Percy's body would be brought here before burial."
Hermione immediately looked uncomfortable. "Well, from what I've heard, there wasn't much left to bring back." She grimaced at the thought. "It wasn't pleasant."
Harry felt his stomach lurch. How incredibly awful. Poor Percy couldn't even have a proper burial, all because Voldemort was angry with the world. How extremely unfair. Harry found himself feeling more rage for the one person that had wanted him dead since the day he was born than he ever had before. Voldemort's deal was with him, not with the Weasleys. Why couldn't he take Harry instead? Then Harry would be dead, he wouldn't care anymore. Maybe then Voldemort would leave others in peace.
The four students stayed at the Burrow for four days. When they returned to school on Friday morning, they were surprised to find the castle in a state of panic. "It's none of your business, Potter!" Snape snapped when Harry asked him what was wrong, but Professor McGonagall shot Snape a dirty look.
"The Headmaster is missing," she said softly, a trace of panic in her voice. "We have tried to contact him at Grimmauld Place, but they informed us that he left there three days ago. We have not heard from him since."
"Have you sent an owl?" Hermione questioned, coming up behind Harry. "I'm sure an owl could find him. Or how about Fawkes? He would know for sure."
McGonagall shook her head. "We've tried. Fawkes returned, bearing nothing but tears in his eyes." Her stern eyes misted over. "We're not sure what that means."
Harry's mind went blank. Surely if something had happened to Dumbledore, they would be the first to know. The Order would find him soon and bring him back to the castle. "We need you, Dumbledore," Harry said quietly to himself as he walked solely down the deserted hallway. "Now more than ever."
Days passed with classes continuing, but very few students turned up for them. Harry, Ron, and Hermione spent hours in the Gryffindor common room, awaiting news from Grimmauld Place. Hedwig arrived several times a day with letters from those at Sirius' old home clutched in her beak.
"Hang tight, guys," Hermione read aloud from a letter from Remus Lupin. "Dumbledore's survived a lot worse than this before. I'm sure he'll turn up soon."
"Tonks says she hasn't known Dumbledore as well as we all have but she's convinced he's fine," Harry said, tossing another letter onto the table by the fire. "She's always so optimistic."
"Here's a change for you," Ron said, brandishing the letter he held from Moody. "Moody says that Dumbledore could be dead for days before we'd learn of the news. Chipper fellow."
Hermione sighed, tears appearing in her eyes. "It's so tiring," she whimpered, leaning back into her chair. It seemed to engulf her before their very eyes. "I just hate not knowing what's happening. I hate it!"
"We all do," Harry said comfortingly, "but we've got to hold tight, like Lupin said. I'm sure Dumbledore will be back soon and everything will return to normal." He managed to ignore the sharp shooting pain in his forehead while Hermione gave him disapproving looks.
"I hope you're right, Harry," is all she would say. "I hope you're right."
Since all trips to Hogsmeade had been cancelled since the Ministry raid, the entire school was on pins and needles trying to find ways to pass the time. Even Hermione had given up on studying for exams. "There will be no exams if Dumbledore isn't here," she said. Harry thought it wasn't so much the absence of Dumbledore, but the recent attacks that would prevent any exams from being carried out.
Ron and Harry were sitting down by the water on a day in late May, five days after the disappearance of Albus Dumbledore. They were discussing recent events without mentioning Voldemort's name for fear of causing a riot in the schoolyard.
"I wonder what's going to happen next," Ron wondered aloud in a hushed voice. He looked fearful at the prospect of being faced with something serious to deal with and Harry felt somewhat sorry for his friend. "I mean, the Ministry's been raided and Dumbledore's gone. Isn't that what You-Know-Who wants?"
Harry nodded curtly. "Of course. He wants all the power he can get his greedy hands on. Why wouldn't he?"
Ron shook his head. "Not that. But didn't McGonagall say to Snape that the only reason Hogwarts was safe from You-Know-Who is because of Dumbledore? Well, now what will happen because Dumbledore can't be found?" Ron's eyes were wide with fear and Harry thought his friend wasn't much further from bursting into scared tears. "What if we go into Transfiguration one day and You-Know-Who's standing at the front?"
Harry laughed. "Ready to what, teach us?" Ron's hurt expression made Harry regret his laughter. "Look, I'm sorry, Ron, but let's face reality. Voldemort isn't going to come wandering into Hogwarts with the Order still on his trail. Dumbledore or no Dumbledore, the Order of the Phoenix isn't going to let Hogwarts be taken over by Voldemort. He's not in hiding anymore, but he certainly isn't walking down the street, either."
"You're right," Ron said, looking a little more relaxed. "Besides, Dumbledore will be back soon. He will," he insisted, as if trying to convince himself. "And then everything will be fine again." He smiled widely.
Footsteps behind them made them turn in that direction and they saw Hermione walking across the grass towards them. She had a funny look on her face, like she was caught between crying and laughing, and her eyes were glassy and fixed on some distant point. She was walking somewhat erratically, almost like she had had too much to drink.
"Hermione?" Ron questioned as she got closer to them. She looked down but her expression didn't change. "What's wrong?"
"Dumbledore's dead," she told them, her voice almost questioning, like she had to ask herself. "They found him, up in the mountains, somewhere near a cave." She swallowed hard. "Just a few hours ago."
Harry jumped to his feet, unaware that he was standing. He marched up to Hermione's face, and stared into her glassy eyes. "What?" he asked carefully.
Her lower lip was trembling. "I know," she said, coming out of her daze slowly. "I know, Harry, but it's true. McGonagall just told me. She's crying, Hagrid's crying, even Snape's walking about with swollen eyes. It's true, Harry, and there's nothing we can do about it!" Her voice reached a shrill, hysterical pitch and Harry had to shake her by the shoulders, perhaps a little too violently.
"What?" he kept asking, walking around the water's edge. Then he smiled. "How, Hermione? How can Albus Dumbledore be dead? He's the greatest wizard that ever lived. How?"
Hermione shook her head, her tears flowing freely now. "I don't know, Harry. He just is. They don't even know what killed him yet."
Ron was still sitting quietly, having not moved a muscle. His jaw was twitching and for a brief moment, Harry considered the fact that Ron had lost his Headmaster and brother all within a month of each other. However, he didn't have too much time to feel sorry for his friend. His own grief was welling up within him and he felt the incredibly need to release it before it destroyed him.
He turned quickly and began marching up to the castle. Along the way, he passed several students who were crying openly, having just learned the news themselves. He could hear Hermione and Ron (who had seemed to come to life) hurrying after him but that only made him increase his speed. He reached the gigantic door and heaved it open, following the sounds of students' footsteps until he reached Professor McGonagall's office. He thrust open the door without knocking and stepped up to her desk where she was sitting with a tissue held against her eyes.
"Where is he?" Harry demanded, hearing Hermione and Ron hurry in behind him. "Where is Dumbledore?"
McGonagall lifted the tissue from her face and Harry saw that her eyes were swollen and red. She looked at him almost pityingly and reached out a hand, the only true sign of affection Harry had ever seen her use. "Oh, Harry," she said softly, grasping his hand off the desk. "Haven't you heard?"
"I've heard," he said bitterly, snatching his hand back, "but I don't believe. Where is he?" Furious at the silent tones in which the three people in the room were treating him with, he swiped at the pile of papers on the corner of McGonagall's desk. They fluttered to the floor in silence. "Where is he?" he chanted, walking around the room, swiping at odd objects with his hands. "Where is he? Where is he? Where's Dumbledore? Where is he?"
"Potter!" McGonagall stood up but her voice was not angry, just firm. "I understand how you feel but if you can't accept the news with respect, then please leave until you can do so."
Harry looked at the mess he had created. Several of the glass figurines that were sitting so primly on the shelf only moments before when he entered had shattered on the floor of the office. "Just like Ministry members," Harry thought to himself. "The Order will be next, no doubt. It's a chain reaction."
Slowly, Harry backed out of the room. Hermione made a move to go after him but Harry could hear Professor McGonagall instructing her to leave him alone. "He needs his own time," she said softly.
How true that was. For seven years, Harry had looked up to Dumbledore like the grandfather that he had never had. He had trusted him, believed in him. Dumbledore had been truly immortal to him. He was always there during Harry's time of need, to rescue him when he needed it and to save the day in any way possible. He was infallible. How could it be that he was dead?
Harry didn't realize he was crying until he felt a warm tear drip off the end of his nose. He wasn't walking anywhere in particular but soon found himself in front of the stone gargoyle outside Dumbledore's office. He slid to the floor with his back to the wall and leaned his head back against the cool stone. Any moment now Dumbledore would come down those stairs and the gargoyle would leap aside for him. He would look down at Harry and smile and say, "What are you doing out here, Harry? We must get to the supper feast. No time to waste, you know." And Harry would stand up and follow his Headmaster and friend down the hall.
But no such noises came. Silence rang through the hallway and it was deafening. Harry had half a mind to begin singing just to break the silence. Maybe the school song would be nice. Maybe, in a few minutes.
The next time he opened his eyes, Hermione was sitting cross-legged beside him and Ron was pacing the hall in front of him. Upon hearing Hermione's soft sobs and Ron's quiet chants of, "It's going to be alright," Harry wished he hadn't opened his eyes at all.
"You're awake." It was more a statement than a question as Hermione stopped crying long enough to address Harry. "How are you feeling?"
"How do you think I'm feeling?" Harry shot back, jumping to his feet. "And stop muttering!" he hollered at Ron. "Can't you hear that? Listen!" He stopped moving about as Ron and Hermione shared a worried glance. "Silence, guys! Dumbledore should be coming down those stairs any moment, but he won't! He should be sitting at the High Table tonight, eating dinner, but he won't. He should be watching over me for the most critical part of my life, but he won't. He won't ever do these things again because he's gone for good and there's not a damn thing I can do about it!"
He stopped and took a breath, ashamed at his outburst, but he did feel better. He sighed and sat back down on the ground, his head in his hands. Hermione crawled over to him and wrapped her arms around him as he cried softly, then louder. Ron hovered above them uncomfortably, fighting off his own tears. The silence around them continued to ring out. They were truly alone now.