Chapter 5
I woke up the next morning disoriented. One
fact I could remember was that I had failed yet again to save James and Lily.
Again I had found myself outside their home in Godric's Hollow watching
Voldemort kill my brother and sister-in-law. Why did i have to relive this over
again? Wasn't the experience horrible enough? Why did my subconscious have to
torcher me with these dreams?
Nightmares would be a better description.
Nightmares of the truth. Nightmares of my cowardice. The things i cannot change
forced back into my face so that I will know that they are my doing.
I pulled myself out of bed and sauntered
into my bathroom. I looked up at the mirror and saw myself. My eyes were red
and a steady trickle of saltwater flowed from them. I snickered. What an image,
a grown man balling his eyes out in his bedroom before going to teach people
how to protect themselves from evil magic. Pathetic.
I bent down and washed my face. I dried my
face and tried to work my hair into something semi-tidy. If there was anything
I had in common with James it was my strewn about hair. I just couldn't manage
to make it stay.
Ten minutes and three hair potions later, I
finally had my hair into a satisfactory position. I couldn't look like I had
just woken up. At least not on the first day. I put on my deep navy robes and
walked out of my quarters.
I walked toward the Great Hall. I was
almost afraid to look inside. It must be a mess after last night. I walked
inside and saw... cleanliness. The tables were replaced and the pieces were
gone from the floor. Someone was up late last night.
I looked around some more. I noticed I was
drawing stares from some of the students so I walked up to the staff table.
Severus sent a sneer at me. I'm not sure
why. He was probably still bitter about me still having a job. Not that I blame
him, I'm surprised myself.
I looked out at the students again. There
was Harry at the Gryffindor Table once again. He was sitting with Colin, the
boy whose brother died in the attack. The friends Harry was at the banquet with
were sitting across the table looking very sympathetic toward Colin.
I walked down from the staff table over to
where Harry and Colin sat.
"I am John Rutleg, your new Defense
Against the Dark Arts teacher," I said, "May I borrow Colin for a
moment?"
Colin looked up at me through tear filled
eyes. He seemed a bit reluctant, like he wanted to stay with Harry and his
friends. Harry also gave me a strange look.
"Colin, maybe you'd better go. Just
for a few minutes," Harry said.
"Alright," squeaked Colin,
"just for a few minutes." He stood up slowly and followed me out of
the Great Hall. We walked into an empty classroom and I pulled up a chair for
him.
"I'm sorry about your brother." I
started.
"You and everyone else in this ruddy
school," he answered.
"Believe it or not I know what you're
going through."
"How could you?" he snapped,
"Your brother wasn't murdered last night; right in front of your eyes.
"Not last night, no," I replied
slowly. Colin raised his head and looked me in the eyes.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"My brother was murdered by Voldemort.
I was there, right outside his house."
"I could have saved Dennis. I wasn't
watching him like I should have been."
"No you couldn't have. The only reason
you are alive is because you broke that Death Eater's wand. Don't blame
yourself. I have been tormented by my brother's death for fourteen years,"
I said to Colin, "Please don't let this do the same to you."
"You're a hypocrite. If what happened
to you is your fault, why is Dennis not mine?"
Colin was missing the point.
"It's not your fault because that
Death eater ha more experience in killing than you will ever have. You were
surrounded by enemies. Dennis placed himself in a position where he could be
killed. That was his choice, not yours. It was not your responsibility to watch
him."
Colin gave me a defiant glare. He looked at
me for a few second and with venom in his voice said, "Are we done?"
"Yes we're done," I answered with a sigh. Colin walked out of the room and I was
left alone.
*
* *
The classes went by one at a time. When Colin
came in, he sat near the back of the classroom and stared at his desk. I wanted
to help him so badly. He hadn't done anything to deserve this.
Demonstrating the Patronus Charm gave me
some much needed practice. I hadn't used the charm in years and was a bit
rusty. My first demonstration was no less than humiliating. I sent a blue shadow
out of my wand that resembled a small blob. It was semi-solid but that was only
a disadvantage. It plopped on the desk and rolled over onto the floor and
disappeared. At least the students were entertained.
Dumbledore informed the teachers that they
too would need to acquire Animagus forms. This would require some thought on my
part. What would I want to become? A tiger? A bear? Something powerful definitely.
Something that could inflict damage upon my enemies.
But wasn't that what had changed my life
for the worse in the first place? Wasn't it that lust for power that had made
me vulnerable to Voldemort's promptings? I couldn't fall back into that state.
Not ever.
About a week after the attack, I was
walking down the corridor toward my first class. It was empty. None but the
torches and a few mice were my company. A small owl flew in through one of the
windows. It flew around a bit, then smacked into a wall. The owl fell unconscious
onto the ground. I hurried over and picked up the bird. It had a note tied to
its leg. I untied the note and lightly shook the bird. It awoke immediately and
energetically flew out the window.
I pulled the note from my pocket. I had to
read it in order to tell who it was for after all. When I opened the note, I
noticed it was not written to any certain person. I read the note slowly; then
quickly became interested. I paled. The note read:
I thought you
told me
they wouldn't
be ready.
I thought you
said we
could overpower
them.
You were
supposed to
have disposed
of
Dumbledore
before we
even arrived.
Do not
fail me again
or you
will regret it.
I am
watching you.
I looked at the parchment. I just stared at
it. How could this be? One of the teachers was a traitor. An assassin assigned
to kill Dumbledore. Who could it be? With Dumbledore gone the path to Harry
would be wide open.
I would be the prime suspect. No one who
knows who i am would trust me. If I were to be caught with this note...
I ran to the nearest torch and held the
piece of parchment over the flame. It lit and I dropped it on the floor. The
parchment burned to ash and scattered in the wind.
