Chapter 9 Findings
The three men exited the school at a dead run, hopping against hope that what they found would not call for funeral arrangements.
Hagrid was the first to spot Harry. Yelling at the other two that he was under the lone willow tree, he sprinted toward the boy, who was about to collapse from exhaustion. Only when the giant was a few feet from the boy did he notice the still figure that lay at Harry's feet. There was a small pool of blood seeping from under the man, staining the summer's green grass a bitter color.
Snape slid to a stop beside the man that lay facedown in the grass, staring at the back of his pale, blond head in acquaintance and horror. He fell to his knees beside the man, rolling him over to confirm his identity.
The man's face was purple from lack of air, distorting his feathers. The hard planes of his overly pale face seemed harsher, as if he'd finally crossed the thin line between sane and insane.
Snape looked up as Dumbledore stumbled over the uneven, fresh grass and came to rest behind him, staring down at the man Snape had back away from, fear making his body go ridged.
Dumbledore opened his mouth, but nothing came out. After working his mouth for a few minutes, he finally got out, "Is that. . . . Lucius Malfoy?"
Snape looked back down at the man who had tormented him just last night. "Yes," he crocked out, the taste of fear tart and coppery in his mouth. "I . . . I think he still may be alive, but I don't know what charm is on him."
"Headmaster Dumbledore!!" Hagrid called out, sounding as if in great pain. "Please stop 'im! I don't want to hurt 'im!"
Both Dumbledore and Snape forgot about the eldest Malfoy that lay at their feet and headed toward Hagrid's voice. They reached him, surprisingly, at the same time.
The scene that met their eyes was one of great wonder. Hagrid was on his knees with his mighty shoulders slumped, as if a great weight was pushing down on him. Harry stood over him. Eyes white and staring unseeingly ahead of him while black flames shot out from his stiff finger-tips, forming a cloud that rose steadly over Hagrid.
Dumbledore jumped into action, pointing his wand at Harry and yelling, "Pillaso Incarto!" Red flames, like the black ones that Harry was using, shot out of his wand and wrapped themselves around Harry.
Immediately Harry's slightless eyes closed and he toppled to the ground, black flames turning white before disappearing. Hagrid stood slowly, as if his body were about to give out on him. The giant swayed before righting himself. He stared down at the boy a long time before turning away, looking toward the Headmaster. "What's wrong with 'im?" he asked, his voice rough and heart-broken.
A deep sigh answered back. Then, when no one thought an answer would come, Dumbledore replied, "I don't know, Hagrid. I just don't know anymore."
Snape turned away from the fallen boy, looking back to where they'd left the eldest Malfoy. Snape blinked, then blinked again. "Albus…" he tailed off, pointing toward where the old wizard should have been.
Rusty stains on summer's green was the only proof that he had ever been there.
The three men exited the school at a dead run, hopping against hope that what they found would not call for funeral arrangements.
Hagrid was the first to spot Harry. Yelling at the other two that he was under the lone willow tree, he sprinted toward the boy, who was about to collapse from exhaustion. Only when the giant was a few feet from the boy did he notice the still figure that lay at Harry's feet. There was a small pool of blood seeping from under the man, staining the summer's green grass a bitter color.
Snape slid to a stop beside the man that lay facedown in the grass, staring at the back of his pale, blond head in acquaintance and horror. He fell to his knees beside the man, rolling him over to confirm his identity.
The man's face was purple from lack of air, distorting his feathers. The hard planes of his overly pale face seemed harsher, as if he'd finally crossed the thin line between sane and insane.
Snape looked up as Dumbledore stumbled over the uneven, fresh grass and came to rest behind him, staring down at the man Snape had back away from, fear making his body go ridged.
Dumbledore opened his mouth, but nothing came out. After working his mouth for a few minutes, he finally got out, "Is that. . . . Lucius Malfoy?"
Snape looked back down at the man who had tormented him just last night. "Yes," he crocked out, the taste of fear tart and coppery in his mouth. "I . . . I think he still may be alive, but I don't know what charm is on him."
"Headmaster Dumbledore!!" Hagrid called out, sounding as if in great pain. "Please stop 'im! I don't want to hurt 'im!"
Both Dumbledore and Snape forgot about the eldest Malfoy that lay at their feet and headed toward Hagrid's voice. They reached him, surprisingly, at the same time.
The scene that met their eyes was one of great wonder. Hagrid was on his knees with his mighty shoulders slumped, as if a great weight was pushing down on him. Harry stood over him. Eyes white and staring unseeingly ahead of him while black flames shot out from his stiff finger-tips, forming a cloud that rose steadly over Hagrid.
Dumbledore jumped into action, pointing his wand at Harry and yelling, "Pillaso Incarto!" Red flames, like the black ones that Harry was using, shot out of his wand and wrapped themselves around Harry.
Immediately Harry's slightless eyes closed and he toppled to the ground, black flames turning white before disappearing. Hagrid stood slowly, as if his body were about to give out on him. The giant swayed before righting himself. He stared down at the boy a long time before turning away, looking toward the Headmaster. "What's wrong with 'im?" he asked, his voice rough and heart-broken.
A deep sigh answered back. Then, when no one thought an answer would come, Dumbledore replied, "I don't know, Hagrid. I just don't know anymore."
Snape turned away from the fallen boy, looking back to where they'd left the eldest Malfoy. Snape blinked, then blinked again. "Albus…" he tailed off, pointing toward where the old wizard should have been.
Rusty stains on summer's green was the only proof that he had ever been there.