Trojan Horse – Part XII: Fireworks
This is it, chaps, the last part of this story. Apologies for taking so long, and I hope you enjoy reading it!
~
The broomstick swooped lower, diving more and more quickly. Sitting behind Sirius, Remus held on for dear life, his eyes closed as they sped towards the ground. But Sirius was not pulling a stunt this time, their haste was in earnest. Opening his eyes a fraction, Remus saw the circle of Stonehenge looming up before them. Sirius aimed the handle of the broomstick straight at the centre, and they hurtled down. Remus' eyes were watering, the wind tore at his face and he was shaking.
Helen, he thought. Don't worry about this, think of Helen. Sirius swooped between two towering stones and Remus ducked automatically. Then the ground was coming up beneath them so rapidly he was certain they would hit. He clutched Sirius. With what seemed to Remus like only millimetres to spare, Sirius pulled up the handle and made a perfect landing, never losing control of the broom.
Controlling his still-trembling limbs, Remus got off. Sirius gave him a grin of exultation, breathless from the flight.
'There!' he said. 'Now what?'
Remus looked around at the jumbled arrangement of ancient stones. He noticed the Altar Stone standing a few metres away, and drew in his breath sharply, for he knew it should have been lying on the ground. But someone had raised it, channelling the powers it contained.
'The entrance was there,' he said, hurrying towards it. 'But I don't know –' The ground shook beneath his feet, only a tiny bit at first but then with increasing violence, and he struggled to stay upright. Reaching out automatically, he caught hold of one of the tall stones that stood around the Altar Stone, but it burned to his touch and he let go.
'What's happening?' asked Sirius, staring around, spreading his feet to keep his balance. 'Is it the – the Enchantment?'
'I don't believe it,' Remus gasped, scarcely hearing him, knowing that there could be only one reason for this upheaval. 'We're too late. She did it. Helen's dead.'
There was a terrible jolt; Remus lost his balance and fell. The ground opened about a metre away from his head. Full of horror as his imagination flashed images of what could be beneath the ground, he tried to pull himself away. But it was a trapdoor.
Sirius growled low in his throat. He was still standing, rocking like a sailor on the deck of a ship in a gale. He pulled out his wand, and Remus stared. Peter Pettigrew had crawled out of the hole and was trying to flee. Sirius leapt towards him, maintaining his balance on the shaking ground with the skill of someone who could fly anything from a carpet to a motorbike in any conditions.
'Wormtail, I'll skin you and tear you to shreds!'
Peter gave him a single frightened glance, and Remus could tell he was about to try to transform. But Sirius sprang at him, wand upraised. Remus pulled himself to his knees and watched as they struggled, horror-stricken.
Peter countered each of Sirius' spells. Remus clutched his wand, but there was no way he could interfere, as the ground trembled and the two wizards moved so speedily. Peter must have learned a lot from Voldemort, Remus thought with deep concern. But he had not been able to learn courage, and Sirius was driving him back and back towards the Altar Stone.
One thought was uppermost in Remus' head. He mustn't kill him. He mustn't. Better that he escapes than that Sirius kill him. But he could not interfere, and as he dragged himself nearer he saw the light of fury in Sirius' eyes. For a split second he was transfixed, for he had only seen that expression once before, and that in a photograph.
But then the ground trembled so violently he feared it would cave open beneath him. He held his wand at the ready, watching the exit to the underground citadel that was being destroyed. Shouts were echoing through the tunnels, shouts of fear and pain and anger. Out of the corner of his eye he saw something shooting across the sky, a silver blur. He looked up nervously. It was a Pegasus, he realised, most likely Altair. He stared for a moment as it flew lower, straight to the centre of the circle.
'Vivian!' he shouted. 'Get away from here, it's not safe!' There was a blinding flash from where Sirius and Peter were duelling, as if to underline his comment. Remus looked around in alarm. They both had transformed, and Padfoot was leaping over the ground, Wormtail skittering before him.
Remus looked back at Altair. The Pegasus only hesitated a second before landing on the trembling ground, and it stood with wings spread, ready to fly again. Vivian did not dismount, and she sat looking like an animal scenting the wind, her head turning around as she seemed to scan the area around her. Remus pulled himself up and half-ran, half-fell towards her, keeping his footing with difficulty.
'What are you doing here?' he demanded, feeling both guilt and anger. If she had come after them – if she got hurt because – but she was raising her wand.
'I'm fine,' she snapped. Padfoot raced past her, in pursuit of something Remus couldn't see, and Vivian's head whipped round.
'What's that?' she demanded of Remus.
'Sirius chasing something,' he said distractedly. He stared, praying that Sirius would control himself, uncertain whether to stay with Vivian or go back to the fighting Animagi. As the massive dog growled angrily, he started towards him.
'Padfoot, use your head!' he shouted. Vivian began to ask something, but Remus decided she could probably look after herself. He ran as quickly as he could towards Padfoot.
The giant black dog was snarling into a hole, teeth bared. Remus looked down the crack. It was small, but a rat could have gone down there.
'Is he gone?' he asked curtly of Padfoot. The dog gave a low growl. 'Padfoot!' said Remus sharply. 'Answer my question.'
The dog flickered, shook, and Sirius was getting to his feet, glaring at the rocks, still growling in the back of his throat. Remus grasped his wand arm.
'Where is he?'
'I don't know,' snarled Sirius, shaking him off. 'He went down there.' Sirius got back onto his hands and knees, wand pointing into a cranny between two rocks. A shower of sparks went shooting into the hole from his wand, and Remus felt the rock tremble.
'Don't do that!' he said in alarm. 'This place is dangerous enough already.'
Sirius got back to his feet, shaking his head angrily. 'Bloody traitorous rat,' he growled. 'I almost had him. I almost had him in my teeth, the bastard.'
The screaming neigh of a horse made them spin around. Vivian was battling with one of Voldemort's followers, her wand flashing as she sensed the currents of magic and countered them. Sirius began to run over to her, Remus hard on his heels. Altair was skittering nervously around on the unsteady ground, his ears flat back, trying to lash out at the assailant. Suddenly he leapt into the air, almost unseating Vivian. Remus could see at once that the Pegasus was not obeying her, for she gave some loud and angry shouts as the horse bolted through the air.
Sirius grinned. 'Was that Vivian?'
'Yes.'
'What was she doing here? She must be mad. Good thing Zephyr's got more sense than she does.'
'Altair,' murmured Remus under his breath. 'She's no madder than we are,' he said aloud.
Sirius chuckled, then saw the man who had been attacking Vivian watching them warily. With a growl he recognised the man as the torturer. Sirius started towards him, wand upraised in anger. The torturer's eyes flickered between him and Remus, and then he turned to flee.
Sirius began to chase after him, shouting threats. Remus tried to restrain him, catching at his arm.
'Let him go,' he said. 'You're not a dog now. We're not here for that, he doesn't matter.'
Sirius glared at him for a moment. 'That's the torturer,' he growled. 'I'll skin him alive.'
Remus held on. He opened his mouth to argue some more, but then the ground gave a violent shake.
Remus clutched at Sirius again to keep his balance. As they both spun around to see what was going on, Sirius jerked him back with a gasp. The Altar Stone swayed in its socket, and Remus looked wildly at the other standing stones, wondering whether the whole thing was going to collapse.
~
Helen opened her eyes fearfully, and found she was unable to see in the utter darkness of the cavern. Things were still crashing around her, she heard shouts and distant screams, and the cracks of spells. Then the darkness was broken by a light that seared her eyes and made her cry out in pain. She cowered behind something, and realised with a jolt of sickness and grief that it was Alexander's body. Alexander who had given his life for her.
She felt hands upon her, and she would have screamed again, but one hand was clapped firmly across her mouth.
'Get up, if you want to get out of here,' hissed Arion's voice, angrily. 'The tunnels are collapsing. Now get up.' He jerked her to her feet. Helen did not let go of her husband's body. She reached out to him one last time, brushing her fingers lightly against his face. Then she let him fall to the ground, and allowed Arion to lead her away.
He seemed to know where he was going. The tunnels were all utterly black, the floors shaking so that she was glad of Arion's hand leading her. Bits of earth struck her as they half-ran along. She was expecting the whole thing to come down on her head at any second.
Arion did not conjure a light, though his wand was in his hand. Behind them she heard a louder rumble, and Arion began to run in earnest. Then they were in a shaft that led to the surface. Helen squinted, blinking in the sudden light, disorientated and confused.
'Start climbing!' barked Arion, shoving her towards a ladder. It was shaking as much as everything else, but with Arion glaring at her furiously, she hitched up her skirt and began to climb, terrified.
The iron rungs wobbled beneath her, and she bit her lip and kept climbing. There was a shout from below, and she looked down nervously. A man she dimly recognised as one of the guards had emerged, and Arion had whirled on him. She hesitated, and he threw her a glance.
'Get out!' he snapped.
Helen kept climbing, very aware that she did not have a wand. At last she was on the surface, and she flung herself down on the grass, shaking as much as the ground beneath her. Alexander is dead, she thought wildly, full of pain. Alexander is dead, and he died saving me. She was oblivious to everything around her, even to Arion as he fought underneath her feet. I hated him, she thought. I hated him and he died for me.
Then the ground thrummed beneath her like a gong struck by a heavy hammer, and some instinct made her look up. The Altar Stone was wavering, swaying wildly. Embedded in the earth, it was tipping one way and the other. She lay petrified, like a rabbit mesmerised by a bright light. Then again she was grabbed.
'What do you think you're doing, you consummate fool? Do you want to die?' Arion hauled her to her feet. 'Now get clear!' Helen had not seen him emerge from the hole in the ground. She stood uncertainly on the shaky ground and looked blankly at Arion for a moment as he tugged her away. His face was dead white, she noticed.
They had not even reached outside the inner circle of stones when the Altar Stone toppled like a domino in a giant's game, and fell a crash that seemed to echo around and around the circle. It covered the hole that Arion had just climbed out of, landing on the ground where Helen had been lying.
She almost screamed, but could not look away. A cloud of dust had been raised, and the ground was still vibrating in the aftershock. Beside her, Arion was also staring at the fallen stone.
A thin coil of black smoke rose from the hole where the Altar Stone had stood. At the same moment, a shadow seemed to pass before the sun, and the air grew chill. Helen shivered and looked at Arion.
'What's that?' she asked nervously.
'Voldemort.' There was a note of steel in Arion's voice, but beneath it Helen heard intense weariness. She turned to him, looking at him properly for the first time. She remembered his battle with Voldemort with a shudder. His face was white and tense.
'Are you hurt?' she asked quickly.
He shook his head. 'I'm fine,' he said, resting a hand unobtrusively on a standing stone for support. Helen gave a grimace of exasperation.
'You look exhausted, sit down,' she said.
Arion lowered his eyebrows, but was about to obey when there was a shout from the other side of the stone circle. Holding his wand firmly, Arion started forwards, only a slight slump of his shoulders revealing his tiredness. He watched as a person began to emerge behind the stones like a hunter eyeing a thicket where he had seen a panther.
Helen almost laughed with hysterical relief when she recognised Remus' face, also pale with shock and worry, followed by Sirius. Remus gave an inarticulate cry when he saw her, and began to run across the centre of the circle towards her. Sirius followed him, looking bemused. Still gaping without understanding, Remus rushed up.
'Helen – you – you're alive – are you all right?' he said incoherently. 'The Conscia Fati Enchantment…?'
Helen took a long shuddering breath, tugged back to what had happened with a painful jolt.
'I – I think it worked – but … but it wasn't I who did it,' she said in a taut voice. 'My husband….' Her voice faded away, her eyes full of pain. Almost without thinking, Remus put an arm across her shoulders.
'What happened?' he asked more calmly. 'Your husband performed the Enchantment instead?'
'Yes,' she said in a choked voice. 'He – he was supposed to kill me, but he killed himself instead.'
Her voice was swallowed up in tears as she finished her sentence, and she turned away from Remus, covering her face in her hands. Remus was putting his arms around her and saying something about Laura and Paul that made her tears flow more heavily. She had failed, Alexander was dead, she was still as useless as she had been before. There was no point living for Laura and Paul, they would be better off without her as their mother. She did not realise she had spoken aloud.
'No,' said Remus urgently. 'They need you, Helen. You have to hold on. And you did not fail. Voldemort is gone from here, and the danger is over now.'
She didn't answer. There was no way to say what she wanted to say. In the background she could hear Arion quietly and emotionlessly explaining to Sirius what had happened. She twisted out of Remus' arm and walked a few paces away.
Remus did not go after her, for which she was thankful. She walked to the Altar Stone in the centre of the circle, all but blinded by tears. Warily, she reached out to touch it, remembering how it had been almost sizzling with magic before. It was quiet now, the stone cold and rough under her fingers.
Alexander, she thought slowly, Alexander is under there. A tear dropped on the fallen stone. She did not hear Arion approach.
'This was once the tomb of a king,' said Arion suddenly, making her spin around. He was gesturing at the fallen Altar Stone. 'Now it is the resting place of a brave man.' He caught Helen's eye and she gave him a sad smile, her tears drying now.
'Why did he do it?' she asked, knowing he would understand the question.
'I don't know any more than you,' said Arion, which wasn't really an answer, she reflected. She thought back to what Alexander had said.
'No. You have taken my life, you have destroyed my family, you have ruined everything I had, will you take this last thing from me now?'
The words beat over and over in her head, and she sank down beside the Altar Stone. Did he care about Laura and Paul after all? she wondered miserably. He must have done. Remus was right, she supposed. She had a duty to them, she had to return and care for them. She put her head in her hands. Arion stood back, silent and still as the stone itself, but Helen could feel his eyes upon her. She looked up at him.
'I don't know,' she said hopelessly. 'I don't want to go back. It was all supposed to end here, and I wouldn't have to face – face the people at Hogwarts again.'
Arion looked at her sternly. 'You are going back,' he said. 'You cannot escape things like this, Helen. You have to go back, and you will find people who will help and support you.'
She did not meet his eye. 'Oh, it's easy for you to say that,' she said, sounding angry now. 'You've never had to do this.'
'Haven't I?' he asked. 'I who was Voldemort's best friend as a boy? Believe me, Helen, I've had to do the same thing.' He sat down beside her in the grass, pulling up blades between his fingers and tearing them apart. 'I helped him at first,' he said slowly. 'I – I didn't want to believe what he was doing, so I worked with him. I helped him learn the Dark Arts.'
Helen looked at him, interested despite herself. 'What did you do?' she asked.
'You mean after I broke away from him? Much the same as what you've been doing. But you have to keep going, Helen. And you have to live with it.'
Now Helen did meet his eye. 'I suppose so.' She stood up abruptly. 'We ought to go back to Hogwarts.' Arion made to rise, and Helen reached out her hand to him as he swayed with exhaustion.
Remus and Sirius were approaching now, looking at them warily. Helen felt their eyes piercing her. Get used to it, she told herself.
'We ought to get back to Hogwarts,' she repeated for their benefit.
'Yes,' said Sirius. 'I want to find out what happened to Vivian.' He grinned. Remus nodded, then caught his breath as if he'd just remembered something. He reached into his pocket, took out a small box and opened it.
'What's that?' asked Sirius with a frown, looking at the white powder inside.
'Salt.' Remus took a pinch of it and threw it into the wind. It fell on the ground. He threw some more over the earth, and the last pinch over his shoulder. 'Salt the earth,' he murmured under his breath.
Helen and Sirius were both staring at him, but Arion was nodding a little.
'Salt is one of the oldest and most powerful antidotes to evil presences,' said Remus as if he were lecturing a class. 'It will clean this place and return it to its original purpose.'
They all looked around at the stone circle. It seemed quiet and tranquil, the slight lumps in the earth and the hole where the Altar Stone had stood the only clues to the battle that had taken place there. Helen shivered.
'We'd better be going,' said Remus finally. 'They'll be worried about us at Hogwarts.'
'Will the siege spell be broken?' asked Sirius curiously.
Arion nodded. 'Voldemort had enough to worry about without keeping that spell going. It'll be broken, I am sure.'
'Good.' Remus sighed. 'I suppose the best thing would be to Apparate to the gates.'
'I really want to find out what happened to Vivian,' said Sirius for the second time. 'That Pegasus certainly didn't want to hang around here.' He chuckled. Remus smiled as well.
'Safe back at Hogwarts, I hope,' he said. 'Goodness knows what she was thinking of. She seemed to be trying to get herself killed.'
Sirius snorted. 'I just hope she did a lot of damage to that torturer. What became of him?'
'No idea. He got away.' Remus sighed. 'We don't have a single prisoner.'
'Not even the rat.' Sirius spat the last word violently.
'That's because most of them didn't get out,' said Arion. He stamped a foot on the ground. 'They're imprisoned under here.'
Helen gave a shudder.
'There's no way we could get them out,' said Sirius, turning to her, 'even if they deserved it. That stone's blocked the entrance completely. The other one's blocked too. I just checked.'
'They'll probably Apparate out,' said Remus with a sigh. 'We'll never catch up with all of them.'
Helen felt a little bit relieved at this. The thought of anyone, even Voldemort's supporters, dying slowly of suffocation or starvation underground, made her feel physically ill.
'Let's go,' said Arion abruptly. 'We'll Apparate.' He raised his wand tiredly, and Helen took it out of his hand.
'I'll do it,' she said quietly. She focussed on the wand, concentration plain on her face. This was difficult enough with one's own wand, harder with Arion's. But it responded and she wove the spell to transport them to Hogwarts.
It seemed to take an eternity, but then they were all standing outside the main gates. She gave a sigh of relief. Sometimes these spells went wrong, and then it was very difficult to correct them. Arion nodded his thanks to her and she passed him his wand.
'Is the barrier down?' asked Sirius. He began to walk towards the gates, which were firmly closed, and he pushed at one. It swung open, and he gave a shout of triumph. The others followed him through the entrance and they walked along the path up to the castle.
'You look shattered,' said Remus suddenly, his eye resting on Arion as they walked. 'What have you been doing?'
Arion didn't answer immediately, but Helen said, 'He fought You-Know – Voldemort, I mean.'
Both Remus and Sirius looked at him with considerable respect.
'I wonder what happened to him,' said Helen musingly. 'Was that – that smoke stuff really him?'
Arion nodded. 'His body was destroyed,' he said slowly.
'Was it you –' Helen began, and Arion nodded again. Both Remus and Sirius edged away from him a little bit. Helen almost smiled at their reaction.
They walked in silence then up to the West Door of Hogwarts. Arion rapped on the solid wood and they all waited. At last it swung open. Severus Snape was looking at them with a mixture of amazement and distaste.
'You'd better go up to McGonagall, then' was all he said, his dark eyes flickering from Helen to Remus and Arion. He did not look at Sirius. 'Are we still under siege?'
'No,' said Remus. 'Is Minerva in her office?'
'I presume so. I am not her keeper.' His lip curled slightly. 'So, have you saved the day again?' he asked, his voice oozing sarcasm. He looked at Helen. 'I am – surprised – that you have returned, Mrs de Laurent.'
She flinched, and Sirius glared at him. 'I didn't see you facing Voldemort,' he growled. 'Let's go find Minerva.' He spun away and began to stalk up the stairs. Snape also turned away, with a last venomous look at Helen.
She followed Sirius up to Minerva's office, with Remus and Arion alongside. Helen knocked on the door that still read 'Headmaster.'
'Come in!' called Minerva's terse voice.
Helen took a deep breath and pulled all her courage together as she opened the door. Arion gave her the hint of a smile.
'Helen?' said Minerva incredulously. 'What -?' Her eyes flickered to Remus, and also to Sirius. 'Vivian tells me you both went to Stonehenge,' she said with a scowl. 'Will you never learn sense, Mr Black? And you, Remus, I'm surprised you allowed it.'
Remus gave a wry chuckle and said nothing. Minerva then looked at Arion.
'What have you been doing? Sit down,' she said sharply, waving him towards a chair. He sank down with perceptible relief. Helen watched him worriedly.
'Now,' said Minerva. 'Explain. What has been going on? Vivian Shaw was here earlier with the most incredible tales of dogs and the Dark Lord's supporters. I am pleased to hear that you at least had enough sense not to allow her to go with you. But I would like a full explanation of what you have done.'
They all looked at each other, and then Remus began to explain. He described everything as carefully as he could. At the end, Minerva was nodding slowly, looking at them with pride.
'There's one thing I don't understand,' she said. 'If – if Alexander didn't use the knife or do the preparatory spells, how come the Conscia Fati Enchantment worked?'
Helen shook her head. She had no idea. But Remus began to speak.
'It doesn't work quite in that way, the Conscia Fati Enchantment. The trappings – that knife, with the rune or whatever it was, and the spells you did, they're things that people have added to the Enchantment over time. But at the core, none of that matters. The essential part, the bit that counteracts any Dark Arts power, is killing oneself willingly for the sake of someone or something else.'
Helen was staring at him. 'Why – why didn't you tell me this before I left, if you knew?' She blinked rapidly a few times, hearing Remus' last sentence again in her head.
'I didn't know then. I did some research this morning.' Remus yawned. 'Was it really only this morning?'
'Yes,' said Minerva tartly, 'and the lot of you are going off to Madam Pomfrey to have her check you over. I've got some letters to write now.'
Obediently, they went. Walking through the school, Helen thought about the Conscia Fati Enchantment. Had Alexander known what he was doing? She hoped he had, for his sake. But a part of her also hoped that he had not. He had done it for her. He might have worked for Voldemort, but he had died for her. She wiped her eyes with her ragged sleeve, and followed the others to the Infirmary, where Madam Pomfrey's common-sense and bustling manner distracted her from her thoughts.
~
Minerva sat dry-eyed on the steps as the fireworks went off above the school, late in the evening of the following day. The funeral of Dumbledore was being held at the same time as the celebrations of victory, once the fireworks were over. That was how he would have wanted it, she knew. There were tears amongst the guests and the students here, but there was also laughter. And whilst she could not bring herself to laughter, nor could she weep, knowing Dumbledore as she had done. She had wept once and that was enough.
And this was the victory celebration as well. Of course, she knew it was only a battle that had been won, that You-Know-Who – call him Voldemort, she told herself – was still waiting for another moment. The siege was lifted, the school was getting back to normal now, or it would tomorrow morning. But for the time being, it was a celebration.
In a few more minutes she would be missed, and she would have to return to her guests. As Headmistress, everyone wished to see her, to speak to her and to be reassured by her as they would have been by Dumbledore himself. Minerva knew she was no Dumbledore and never would be, but she had accepted the care for the school and all that went with it. She pulled at a stray strand of her hair and twisted it around her fingers, then hastily tied it back in her severe bun.
She heard steps approaching, and saw a gigantic figure in the corner of her eye. There was no need to look any closer; she could not have mistaken him if she had tried. In any case, her eyesight was excellent in the dark despite her years. She fidgeted with her hair and smoothed it down.
'Yeh comin' back to the feast?'
Minerva looked up at him, unsmiling.
'Fudge is askin' to 'ave a word with yeh,' Hagrid continued. 'D'yeh want me ter tell 'im yer busy?'
'Hmmph,' said Minerva. 'I suppose I ought to go.' She did not stand up, but leaned back as another firework exploded in a shower of green sparks.
'Pretty, aren't they?' Hagrid stood over her for a moment, then settled himself comfortably on the step beside her. 'Who's doin' 'em?'
'Flitwick.'
'Oh, 'course he would be.'
Minerva watched the dark skies for a while in silence, and Hagrid did not break the silence. She liked that about him, she reflected, he never interrupted her thoughts.
'Er – Minerva?'
Scratch that one, she thought wryly. 'Yes?'
'Er – shall I go an' tell Fudge yer busy, then?'
'No, I'll go and talk to him,' she sighed. 'Better get used to him.'
'I don' mind,' he said quickly. 'He's a pain, that 'un. Yeh don' need ter be bothered by the likes of 'im.'
'But he is the Minister of Magic,' said Minerva, rising and straightening her cloak. 'He won't bite me.' She rubbed the healed scratch on her hand with something like a smile. Hagrid dithered for a moment, looking at her uncertainly as though he thought she might bite him.
'Yeh – yeh look nice tonight,' he stammered at last.
Minerva felt herself flush, and was extremely grateful it was dark. 'Don't be silly,' she said in a tone that could have cut through rocks. There was a pause.
'I'll go find Fudge, then,' she said, and hurried away. What had he meant by that? She tried to put it from her mind. Foolishness, fretting and making an idiot of herself over a compliment. She swept through the crowd.
The place looked nice, Minerva thought, distracting herself from what Hagrid had said. The long tables were laden with food and drink, and it seemed to grow no less no matter how much the students devoured. Hogwarts was illuminated with witch-fire, glowing bluish lights that hung over everything. Some people were sitting on the grass, others were standing, and everyone was talking and laughing. She spotted Fudge up on the terrace with some of the other guests, watching the fireworks and beaming approval on the hordes of students below. Minerva went up to him.
'Ah, Minerva, my dear, I've been looking for you.' Fudge raised his glass to her with a smile. 'Do have a drink.' He snapped his fingers and a second glass was in his other hand. Minerva raised one eyebrow. The man acted like such a fool it was easy to forget that he actually was a reasonably skilled wizard. She accepted the glass without returning the smile.
'So – quite impressive, really, what your people did,' he said. 'It's a shame they didn't manage to hold on to Peter Pettigrew.'
'Indeed,' said Minerva frostily, sipping the wine. As if he'd ever got that close to catching Pettigrew in the months he'd been chasing him. She didn't say that aloud; it didn't seem diplomatic.
'Do you have any clues on where You-Know-Who might have gone?'
'No.' Minerva looked up at the fireworks as a gigantic image of a wizard on a broomstick sailed across the sky chasing what looked like a Snitch, and exploded as he caught it. She wondered what had happened to Voldemort. The only thing anyone knew was that he had vanished. Not even Arion knew more than that. In explaining what had happened to Fudge, Minerva had played down Arion's role, aware that Fudge was narrow-minded about such things and would probably have misunderstood.
Fudge was still burbling about the Dark Lord and great dangers and rewards. Minerva only half-listened, her eyes roving over the other guests and the staff. She saw Remus and Sirius down with the students, and spotted Harry listening intently to whatever Sirius was saying. That was no surprise. Then she spotted the small shape of Vivian there as well, listening with her head tilted on one side, and a smile flickered over her face.
'…and really, I think you are to be congratulated on the way you have handled the entire sorry affair,' Fudge was saying. Minerva turned her smile upon him and continued to sip the wine.
'Thank you,' she said politely. There was a chorus of gasps from the students, and they both turned to look up at the sky. The Hogwarts badge was emblazoned across the sky, and the four animals were moving around. Minerva looked up at the Gryffindor lion snarling at a hissing snake. After a moment she looked back at the crowd, blinking to clear her vision. Snape should be somewhere around, and she had intended to keep an eye on him. At length she saw his black looming figure standing alone. That didn't surprise her.
Helen and Arion were there, talking together. Minerva sipped her wine and considered those two. Why Arion wanted much to do with Helen was beyond her. Yes, it was courageous of Helen to try to destroy Voldemort's power, but she could not forget what Helen had done. Arion had been close to Dumbledore, yet he seemed to feel no revulsion in Helen's presence. The firework gave a bang that made her jump violently, and exploded in a shower of sparks. She took another sip of wine to calm her nerves.
Now it was time for the funeral service. Minerva had thought it was very odd that Dumbledore had asked to have his funeral right in the middle of a party, but that had been the specific instruction in his will – a very peculiar document all around, she thought. She was one of the executors, along with the other heads of the houses and Hagrid, and she couldn't make head or tail of some of the instructions, apart to comment that they were typical of Dumbledore. She tried to remember what it was that Dumbledore had written about his funeral. Something about wiping away grief with good food and fun.
'If you'll excuse me,' she said to Fudge, 'it's time for the funeral.' She cleared her throat of the lump that had unexpectedly appeared there and finished her wine.
'Allow me to accompany you,' he said gallantly, taking the empty glass from her hand and making it vanish with a dramatic flourish of his wand. Minerva wanted to scream. Would she never get rid of him? Even Hagrid and his unexpected compliments were better than this. Snape would be better company, she thought, spotting him not far off. At least he talked sense most of the time. She tried to catch his eye as Fudge walked down beside her towards the lake, but he ignored her stonily.
This was not the actual funeral, a memorial service would really be a more appropriate way to describe it. Dumbledore had been buried under a spreading oak tree not far from the lake a week ago, with very little fuss. That was where the crowd of people was headed, moving slowly, talking more quietly now, subdued.
Heavy footsteps alerted her to Hagrid's presence. She turned away from Fudge and smiled at Hagrid in sheer relief. He looked at her warily, as if she were some strange new creature he didn't quite understand. Fudge glanced at Hagrid equally warily. Minerva nodded to him curtly and said to Hagrid, 'Are all the arrangements in order?'
'Yeah,' he said. Then, as she glared at him, he added, 'I think so.'
'We'd better go and check,' she said. 'Excuse me.'
She hurried off with Hagrid before Fudge could say anything else.
'It's all fine,' he said in his booming voice, sounding concerned. 'I jus' checked.'
'Never mind, we can check it again,' she said crossly. She felt oddly like a student trying to escape the attentions of an unpleasant teacher. 'I just wanted to get away from Fudge,' she continued when they were well out of earshot.
'Oh,' said Hagrid. Then he grinned. 'D'yeh still want ter check everythin'?'
'I'll take your word for it,' she answered. She took a deep breath. 'I've got to go up to the podium now, actually.'
'Oh, yeah, yer makin' a speech.' Hagrid looked impressed. 'I'd be scared, talkin' ter all this lot.' He waved a hand at the crowd of guests and students. Minerva frowned a little.
'It'll be fine,' she said, as if trying to convince herself.
'Yeh'll do great,' said Hagrid with complete confidence. Minerva looked up at the podium with thinly disguised worry. Hagrid patted her on the shoulder. 'It's gonna be fine.'
She smiled. 'Yes, okay.' Minerva reached out into thin air and conjured up her notes, glancing down at them for the last time. 'I'll go on up then.' For a moment she hesitated. 'Thanks for rescuing me from Fudge.'
'Any time,' Hagrid replied in a softer tone than usual. 'Any time.'
Minerva walked up to the podium, giving not a single outward sign of her nervousness. Silence fell when she stood up, and she took a deep breath.
'Witches and wizards…'
The speech passed in a blur, the words coming automatically in the same way they did when she took a lesson. She scarcely was aware of the words she was saying, words in praise of Dumbledore and the school, words of remembrance and of old times. But when she came to the end, there was a silence, and then a storm of applause burst out. A little bit stunned, Minerva left the podium. Fudge went up to replace her to give the final thanks, but Minerva walked away, not really wanting to hear his platitudes. The grave was a little way off, and there was nobody around it, perhaps out of some sort of respect.
She sat down in the long grass near the tombstone to think. In her speech, she had not really touched on Voldemort and the dangers that remained. She knew that tonight was a time to forget the cares and worries that had been heavy upon everyone since he had arisen again on Twelfth Night. But she knew that there was much that was not understood, much that was undone.
And much that had been lost. Dumbledore had known more about his enemy than any other witch or wizard, living or dead. He had written down some things, but Minerva knew that twice that amount had been lost. She knew that only Dumbledore had had any clue about how Harry had defeated him, which was the key to the whole situation. There was no way she would find answers to any of her questions sitting here, she thought after a moment, but she did not rise.
Another burst of applause told her that Fudge had finished speaking. She sat waiting. A moment later, while the crowd was still fairly silent, waiting for something else to happen, a firework rose in the east. It soared up huge and red above the lake, and Minerva realised it was in the shape of a gigantic phoenix, leaving a trail of flame-coloured explosions behind it. The phoenix rose to the zenith, and then burst into flame, shooting red and white and gold rockets off in all directions. At last it exploded with a deafening bang and a shower of magnificent fireworks screaming and whistling their way down.
'Wow. I wasn't expectin' that.'
Minerva turned. In the noise of the fireworks she had not heard Hagrid approach. How had he known she was here?
'Oh, Flitwick designed it, and Sirius too, I think,' she said in an offhand tone. 'He likes fireworks, that young man.'
Hagrid chuckled. 'Yeah, I'll bet 'e does an' all. He liked blowin' things up when 'e was a student, din' he?'
'Yes.' Minerva scowled for a moment, then her face relaxed into a smile. 'I'm glad I don't have him as a student any longer,' she said. 'He was the one who started all these grey hairs.' She ran her hand through the strand of hair that had escaped her bun as if she could detect grey strands by touch, and sighed. 'So much we've lost,' she murmured under her breath.
'Yeh mean Professor Dumbledore?' He took out his handkerchief and blew his nose loudly. 'That was a really good speech, yeh know,' he added.
'Thanks.' She smiled tiredly. This day had been going on forever, it felt, and she could see the crowd, still a little subdued, returning to the party. There would be no escape for a many hours yet, and she ought to go back to the guests. She gave a yawn and leaned back. It was a moment before she realised she had leaned against Hagrid's broad shoulder.
'Oh – I'm sorry,' she began, sitting up, but he put a hand on her arm and held her there.
'I don' mind.' He moved a little so that she was sitting closer to him. It felt very comfortable, she found herself thinking.
'I ought to go back to my guests,' she said uncertainly, but did not move.
'The guests'll be fine,' he said in a low rumble. 'Yeh can stay 'ere – if yeh want.'
Minerva leaned back against him for answer, and felt him take her in his arms. She realised she was smiling foolishly into nothing, but try as she might she could not stop smiling. As a teacher, she had to keep her eye on many of the inevitable couples formed from the students, and she wondered if she looked as silly as they had. Somehow, it didn't really matter.
~
'Please, tell me I'm seeing things,' said Sirius in a mock-despairing tone to Remus.
'What?' Helen and Arion had gone to join the other three after the service, and they were talking together on the lawn.
'Please tell me I didn't just see Minerva kissing Hagrid.'
Remus and Vivian both gasped.
'You're making fun of me,' said Vivian crossly. 'That's ridiculous.'
'No,' Sirius protested, grinning. 'Down there by the big oak tree.'
Helen looked through the crowd. The silhouettes were unmistakeable.
Arion smiled. 'About time, too.'
'What do you mean?' asked Helen, remembering what she had seen in Hagrid's cottage two days ago. Had it only been two days? Her life had changed so much since then.
'He's been longing after her since they were students,' Arion explained, a smile in his voice. 'So, he finally plucked up the courage, did he? Well, good for him.'
Remus smiled too. 'I always thought there was something … I'm glad for them.'
'Yes,' agreed Helen.
'Shall I go down there and let off a firecracker?' asked Sirius hopefully. Everyone laughed.
'You dare,' said Remus, still laughing, 'and I'll tell everyone about the time you let off a firecracker in the–'
'Okay, okay, you win,' said Sirius very quickly, drowning out whatever it was that Remus had been about to say. There was some more laughter.
Helen smiled too. The party was certainly going well. Even if she didn't think there was much to celebrate. The details of what had happened at Stonehenge had not been released to everyone, only a few people at the Ministry knew, and the members of the League. She was glad of that, although it meant that rumours were flying about that she had fought Voldemort single-handedly, or that she had torn down the Altar Stone herself. The guests and students all stared at her with unabashed curiosity, and only the silent presence of Arion beside her had saved her from being interrogated by all and sundry.
Remus, Sirius and Vivian were still laughing and teasing each other. Helen turned to Arion.
'I'm going away tomorrow,' she said in a low voice. 'I need to start fresh somewhere else.'
'You'll have to be careful,' replied Arion. 'Voldemort is going to be after you, he doesn't like people to get away from him. I presume you'll stay with the League?'
'I suppose I ought to.'
'It would be wise. And you have experience that would be useful.'
'Yes.' Helen pulled her cloak straight and took a deep breath.
'Where will you go?' he asked curiously.
'Well, tomorrow we're going back to our old house. Minerva said she'd write my references. I'm not going to carry on teaching, it's not really my strength. But I don't really know what I am going to do.' She sighed. 'It's so difficult.'
'I know.' Arion turned so that he was looking straight at her. 'But you'll succeed, Helen.'
'I hope so. I really do.'
'I won't pretend it'll be easy,' Arion continued. 'But it is possible. You're right, you need a fresh start. But don't cut all your ties.'
'Well, as I'm staying with the League, I couldn't even if I wanted to. But I won't.' She smiled at him.
She realised that Sirius was looking at the sky, and she raised her head as well, knowing that Sirius had been working on the fireworks. But it was not a firework that he was looking at. A real phoenix was rising in flames.
'What's that?' she asked of Arion in amazement. 'I didn't know there were any of them around here.'
'It must be Fawkes.'
'What?' asked Helen in confusion.
'Albus' phoenix.' There was a note of sadness in his voice.
They both watched the bird fly higher and higher. It was not as gigantic as the firework had been, but it made up for that by being so intensely bright that the stars could no longer be seen and the light from it cast crooked shadows on the ground. Everyone was staring now.
'This is the last time,' said Arion slowly. 'It's not going to be reborn.'
'How is that possible?' asked Helen.
'It's going to follow Albus into death,' he said. 'Phoenixes are like that. Faithful to death.'
'Then why didn't it do this when – when Professor Dumbledore died?' She could not quite say that without flinching yet.
'It had to finish this cycle,' Arion explained. 'It can't burn until it's ready.' He was staring very hard at the searingly bright creature.
The bird flew higher and higher, blazing. Helen shielded her eyes, but watched as it grew smaller and smaller in the sky, until it was only another point of light amongst the stars.
She was surprised to find that she no longer wished to escape like that. But she knew Arion was right. She had to go on. Two squealing voices made her spin around. Laura and Paul were rushing up to her, the Hufflepuff girl who had been watching them trailing behind.
'Mum, what was that?' demanded Paul, while Laura flung herself at Helen.
'It was a phoenix, and you two are both supposed to be in bed.' She took Paul's hand and disentangled Laura from her leg. 'Thank you,' she said to the Hufflepuff girl, whose name she couldn't remember. 'I'll take these two ruffians up to bed now.'
'But Mum…' began Paul, and Helen shook her head firmly.
'Good night, Arion,' she said, taking both children by the hand.
He smiled with sudden warmth at the trio. 'Good night, all of you. Be good now.' He met Helen's eye. 'And take care.'
Paul was still muttering protests as she led them up to the castle, but Laura was yawning widely. The school was deserted, every student was out on the lawn enjoying the celebrations. Helen felt glad to leave the party, though. She took Paul and Laura up the stairs to their room adjoining hers, and began to get them into bed. Paul went to the window.
'The party's still going on,' he complained. 'Why do we have to go to bed?'
'We're leaving early in the morning,' Helen told him. 'You need your sleep.' She drew the curtains and coaxed them both into bed.
It didn't take long for them to fall asleep, despite their protests of not being tired. She smoothed the covers over both of them and sat looking out the window. Everyone down there was celebrating what Alexander had done, though they didn't know it. And mourning what she had done. She saw the oak tree where Dumbledore was buried, and winced a little. But he had told Minerva to forgive her, he had done his best to help her. Arion was right. She could not change the past, she could only accept it and move on. After a while the expression of sadness on her face began to change to a smile.
THE END
Thanks to CLS for the chapter title. Thanks to my friends who put up with me while I was writing this, who reviewed and beta-read and made suggestions far more intelligent than anything I could have come up with alone. And thanks to the people here who've read and reviewed it over the four months I've been writing it. Your kindness has made me very happy. Dare I ask you to review it for the last time?
Blaise.
15th June 2000