Author's Notes: Part three reflect on many POVs. It sorta jumps a bit here and there but it works anyway. It's nice to see a different POV every now and then. As usual, thanks for the reviews and support. I welcome all cheers and jeers.
Disclaimer: All characters and the Harry Potter story line belong to JKR. I'm just borrowing without any intentions of making money even though I'm so poor right now.
Chapter Three – Defluo (L. Lost)
don't say I'm out of touch
with this rampant chaos - your reality
I know well what lies beyond my sleeping refuge
the nightmare I built my own world to escape
He gasped heavily, clutching at his tattered robes. He treaded the slushy, rain-soaked ground with great difficulty. He was tired. He was cold. He was afraid.
'Of what?'
'What am I running from?'
Behind him, an aged man wheezed and coughed, falling against the wall of a brick-laden structure.
"Do you have a few schillings to spare for this old man...?" he barely heard the man ask.
But he didn't stop. He ambled, crawled, fought onward. Against the heavy drops of the rain, the inopportune gusts of winds, he fought. Steadfastly. And confused. Time was no ally as it had seemed that it stood still for him as he toiled against Nature and the uncertainty in his mind.
'Where am I going?'
His dark, rounded spectacles fell to the muddy earth. The world around him became a blur. Even more so now because of the rain. He bent down painfully to pick his glasses up and settled them back to regain some of his eyesight. What was really horrendous vision bettered a bit to somewhat to bad vision. Barely could he see still what was in front of him. He could hear the old, ragged fellow calling out to him again, begging for schillings.
But he knew he couldn't help him. He couldn't even help himself. The world around him was unforgiving. It was agonizing. It was difficult. It was compassionless.
"Help me…Somebody…" he just heard himself call out. His head spun, his right temple throbbed. The pain was unbearable, unforgiving. He stumbled onto the muddy ground, struggling against the sudden pain that punished him.
'Why does it hurt so much?'
He managed to get himself back up against a wall and leaned against it for support. Soon he discovered his right hand fell on an unlocked doorknob. He twisted it open and fell inside clumsily. He flailed his arms about wildly in the darkness, searching for some light. It was to no avail, however, as he stumbled on his feet. Against a table he hit his head and his mind's darkness soon overtook him. His body soon followed suit and slumped mercilessly to the ground.
Amidst the darkness and unforgiving cold, there was a name that was spoken from his lips in an almost inaudible tone...
"H...mione..."
*****
They all came back to Hogwarts, defeat written clearly on all their faces. Mother Nature hasn't let up at all and didn't do much to help them in their quest. They all came back empty-handed. They had no Harry Potter to take back with them to Hogwarts.
Alastor Moody cursed inside the Headmaster's chambers. He felt so useless, so powerless. Where is the lad? Why can't they find him? It's been over twenty-four hours since he disappeared, since he fell off from the train, to the depths of that seemingly bottomless, damned cliff where half the train lay. If only he wasn't distracted by a Death Eater. If only he was faster. If only he was younger. If only he didn't think that Harry could handle it. If only...
He stopped. Dwelling in the 'ifs' and what could have been would get him nowhere. He couldn't help Harry by dwelling on something he didn't do. Moody looked up and he was certain that everybody else was doing the same to himself or herself. They were blaming themselves for his disappearance, for his fall. And he was pretty sure that they would want nothing more than to turn time back and be at his side when he needed them the most—to lift him back up on the train, instead of watching him fall away from their sight, crying and reaching out for their help.
"Alastor," the Headmaster broke his thoughts. "What news?"
He could only reply with one look. It was a look that everyone carried. Failure. He didn't even have to say anything.
Professor Dumbledore nodded slightly. He took a deep breath and looked up to the portraits of his predecessors. The news wasn't any better. Dumbledore knew they were trying hard, jumping from various locations throughout their portraits in both Muggle and Magic world. There was no sign of Harry Potter anywhere.
No one could console the people known as his best friends. They felt like they failed him. They felt like part of them has been stripped away and life was so dull and sullen. Ron and Hermione were the most stricken and pained by his disappearance. Disappearance, they convinced each other. Harry couldn't be dead yet. They just can't find him. To give up on that would just not be fair to Harry. No, they knew they couldn't give up yet because they knew Harry wouldn't give up on them.
"I want to go out there again to search for him. I need someone's broom." Ron got up from his seat. He couldn't have taken a few steps toward the door when Remus Lupin blocked his path. Ron stood indignantly. "Let me through. I want to find Harry."
"I can't let you go out again, Ron. It's too dangerous right now to go searching on foot, much less on a broom." Remus sighed. "We all want to go back out there, but it's just impossible right now. So please stand down. I'd hate to hex you frozen right now."
Ron kept tightlipped and turned away from Remus, his fists clenched. Instead, he went toward the fireplace and mulled by the fire. Moody's ever-revolving eye trained on him. Luna walked on over to the fireplace and exchanged a few quiet words with him.
Hermione sat calmly on a sofa chair, her brown eyes transfixed on the dancing flames in the fireplace. She had been the quietest of all since Harry became lost to them. The tears fell and the frustration earlier and anger were there, but the voice that was Hermione was strangely silent. She barely spoke and instead, clutched tightly a tattered piece of robe to her chest. It was from Harry's robes. Ginny sat by her side, stroking Hermione's right arm, trying to ease her as much as she could. But Ginny knew that the curly-haired girl was just as frustrated as everyone else right now, if not more.
Romulus Lupin suddenly stepped forth from a darkened part of the room and paced toward his brother. He exchanged a few words with Remus before walking over to Dumbledore's side.
"I just received news that the train, or what's left of it, has been magically towed to a ministry public transportation facility as it was the nearest location that could accommodate it. The victims…have all been taken to St Mungos. The families affected are in the process of being notified."
It was going to be a long night for the Headmaster, Remus thought to himself as he observed. It was going to be a long night for all of them. "Alastor, I, and Romulus shall go. With your permission of course."
Albus Dumbledore gave a slight nod. "Do take precautions and fare well in your journey. Find out as much as you can and come back here. It is my hope that by then, we would have something that will help our search for him. That or we'll hear from him by then." Dumbledore glanced toward the students that were in his chambers: Ron, Hermione, Luna, and Ginny. He could tell that Ron was itching to ask if he could go, but he also knew that it would be a futile effort.
A few moments later, Moody, Remus, and Romulus were off to St Mungos. Professor McGonagall left the Headmaster's office as well. She had to meet with other professors to determine what actions needed to be taken regarding the four houses. Tonks has been sent to meet with several head Aurors to gather more information on the surprise attack more than a day ago.
"You know he's still alive, right Professor?" It was Hermione, interrupting his thoughts, asking in a very weak voice.
He turned to her and gave her an encouraging smile. "If I know Harry, and I do say with much confidence that I do so very well, he's a fighter, Miss Granger. You should know that he's not the one who would give up and just perish away." He walked toward Fawkes and lightly petted him. "I do believe firmly, as much many people who have been working endlessly to find him, that Harry Potter is alive. He is just temporarily lost to us."
Hermione clutched the tattered black piece of a robe. It was the only thing of Harry's that she could hold onto right now. She had to believe as Professor Dumbledore believes. Harry wouldn't give up. He's a survivor, ever since he was a baby. She and Ron, his best friends, have always been there to see him struggle against the many cruel things that life has thrown at him. Naturally, they knew better than anyone that he always somehow managed to come back alive.
A knock interrupted the dreary silence and Professor McGonagall stepped in. She walked towards Professor Dumbledore and whispered several words to which the Headmaster made several nodding motions. Hermione tried as best as she could to strain her ears to catch a few words and even read them from their lips.
"Slytherin….Hufflepuff…Ravenclaw…Gryffindor….sorting….Aurors…tomorrow night…Harry…Ministry of Magic…Beauxbatons…professors…and Durmstrang…"
Sighing to herself, she gave up trying to hear or understand. She was just too tired. The last day or so have been hellish for her and Ron. It aggravated her that she felt so helpless right now, not being able to do much. Her head injury still impaired her as it was made worse after some encounters with several Death Eaters on the train.
"It's frustrating, isnt't it?" Ginny Weasley spoke to her.
"To say the least, yes." Hermione looked down on her lap and then moved her gaze toward the fire. "How could our last year at Hogwarts start like this? Classes are supposed to start in a few days, but that's the last things on my mind right now."
Ginny tucked a tendril of red hair behind her right ear. "I know. Right now, we should be thinking about Quidditch tryouts and what types of hexes to use on Slytherin."
Hermione smiled a little at her friend's last comment. "I guess you're right..."
It was good to see Hermione smile. Ginny knew that her spirits were tremendously weak. Any signs of happiness, laughter, and hope were more than welcome in this dreary situation. Ginny hoped that Luna was doing the same for Ron.
"He'll come back to us, Hermione," Ginny assured her friend. "It's Harry after all."
"Bloody right. He's just lying low for now," Ron said unconvincingly. He and Luna walked on over to where Ginny and Hermione sat. He put his right hand over Hermione's left shoulder and gently squeezed.
Professor Dumbledore turned to the young ones. "Perhaps it would be best if all you four take yourselves to the dining hall and have something to eat. It wouldn't be wise to let your stomachs go without some nourishment."
"I'm not hu—" before he could finish, Ron's stomach growled, "—gry."
The Headmaster smiled through his half-moon eyeglasses. "Your words say otherwise, but your stomach clearly protests, Mr. Weasley. At this time, I believe it's better that you listen to your stomach."
Despite their protests, Ron, Hermione, Luna, and Ginny all promised the Headmaster that they would go to the dinner hall to eat and were all sent out of the Headmaster's office soon after that. A minute later, Professor McGonagall also left.
"You may come out now, Graydon."
A mild gust of air blew against Dumbledore's back. "How did--? Nevermind, don't answer that."
Dumbledore walked to his desk and petted Fawkes. "What news? Any sightings?"
The man, wearing a dark grey cloak, slowly pulled his hood down and removed his mask. "Something good, I hope. I know that you have received news of many possible sightings but this latest information I learnt of seems to be very solid. I had attempted to verify it but the weather isn't permitting me to do so. I can't risk apparating either."
"Would you like to take a seat?"
"No thank you." His right arm tingled with a bit of pain. Ignoring it, he turned to look at the fire in the Headmaster's chimney. "The sighting…the injuries seem consistent to what he sustained in during the attack. My contact indicated that he tried to get Harry's attention but he seemed…utterly lost and in a very bad daze."
"Perhaps tomorrow, once the weather has let up, your contact would be able to verify more."
"I had already instructed him to follow Harry when he can. He said he was already doing so when he suddenly disappeared after a powerful lightning struck the skies. Like magic, he said."
"Wherefore is this location?"
"It was about ten miles east of the attack site. A tiny village. My contact said that Harry was walking about lopsidedly and kept muttering words about." Graydon's brown eyes reflected the flickering fire. "I did attempt to apparate anyway despite the risks, but it was impossible."
"I assume that this information hasn't been disclosed to Tom."
Graydon flinched slightly at the mention of the name. "No. The Dark Lord is quite upset right now since the task force he sent was unsuccessful in retrieving Harry."
"I see. Like us, I am sure that he has sent for agents to search for him. The fact that he is searching means that he knows that Harry is alive, correct?"
The tall, brown-haired man merely nodded.
"Are you blaming yourself, Graydon?" the Headmaster asked.
Graydon rubbed his eyes for a moment. "If I had been faster to inform you of the attack or maybe I should have been there instead. But I lost precious time because I was worried about getting compromised. I should have just apparated instead of flyin—"
Dumbledore stroked his snowy beard. "It was not your fault. And your news still helped. To say the least, Harry is not in Tom's custody and the casualties, bad as they were, were quickly contained by the Order and Aurors.
"Casualties are still casualties. Weren't you the one who taught me about the importance of every human being's life? Muggle or magical, it doesn't matter. I know I'm no saint and I've taken life much to my regret now. But for Harry, who's suffered so much," Graydon paused, "he's not even out of Hogwarts yet let alone had any semblance of a normal life."
"You are a different man now, Graydon. Two years ago you came to me, with so much confusion, sadness, regret, and bitterness. Now, you have set this crucible upon yourself. You mustn't let it consume you, my friend."
Clenching his fists and breathing an exasperated sigh, the man in the dark cloak faced the Dark Lord's other greatest opponent. "I must leave now. I have to report to Lucius about the events of my supposed search. I trust that you will set your Aurors and agents on the location I indicated once the weather lets up. I don't have the exact coordinates at the moment, but I shall get them to you by tomorrow morning."
"Thank you, Graydon."
Graydon and nodded slipped the hood of his cloak back on. "Good luck," he said just before his whole body dissipated in another mild gust of the wind.
- TBC