Chapter 12: Aftermath

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The bright day is done, and we are for the dark."

-William Shakespeare, Antony and Cleopatra

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The Head's common room was almost completely silent. Ron was pacing nervously in front of the fireplace, Ginny and Hermione
sat on one sofa, and Harry sprawled out in a cushy armchair. Although he was comfortable, he couldn't relax. The attacks
are targeting Order members, he thought, running a hand through his messy hair. Who do I know that's going to get 
hurt? Who do I know that is going to die?

The door squeaked open and everyone stopped and stared. Ginny gasped in fear. A round pink face appeared from the hallway.

"Hey Neville," Harry greeted his friend, letting out his breath, which he hadn't realized he had been holding. 

"Hi guys," Neville answered nervously, glancing around the room. "I just wondered if you knew any more than the rest of us
did..." Surprisingly, Hermione spoke up.

"It's a Death Eater attack. According to Professor McGonagall, they're targeting Order members and it was very well organized," 
she recited. Neville nodded and moved towards the group.

"Do... do you mind if I stay here? With you guys?" he asked. 

"Sure," Harry said, gesturing towards the chair across from him. "Have a seat." 

****

There was no news for hours. Ginny had fallen asleep in front of the fireplace, Neville was lying on the sofa, and Harry, Ron, 
and Hermione had retreated to their rooms. Harry stared at the ceiling above his bed. He was in no mood to sleep, despite the 
fact that it was nearly 5 AM. 

"Harry, mate, are you still awake?" Ron whispered from across the room. Harry propped himself up on his elbows.

"Yeah, Ron," he replied.

"What if... what if they lost the battle..." And no one comes back to get us, Harry finished mentally.

"It's not going to happen, Ron," he said firmly. "It can't." The two friends laid in their beds until the sun came up. Around
6:30 AM, they heard a knock on the door.

"Come in!" Harry cried, sitting up in bed. The first to enter the room was Mrs. Weasley, followed by Mr. Weasley, Fred, George,
and...

"Percy?" Ron asked, flabbergasted. "What're you doing here?"

"He's come back," Mrs. Weasley said, happy but with a note of sadness in her voice. "Isn't that wonderful, Ron?"

"I have seen the error of my ways, though at the time the Ministry had much better evidence than the Order-" Percy was interrupted
as the door opened again. This time, it was Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall. Harry breathed a sigh of relief knowing that
they were both still alive.

"Classes for today have been cancelled," Dumbledore said. "The entire student body will meet in the Great Hall at noon."

"I will post it on the bulletin board, don't worry about informing the younger students," McGonagall added. "You have many more
important things to take care of." She inclined her head towards the Weasley family before leaving the room behind Dumbledore.
What did that mean? Harry wondered. Mrs. Weasley took a deep breath.

"I suppose we should tell him," she said worriedly. Ron looked back and forth between his parents.

"Tell us what?" he demanded. 

"Let me get Ginny first," Mr. Weasley said, leaving the room. He returned with his daughter, her eyes red and tired from
lack of sleep. Hermione and Neville came in along with her.

"What's going on?" Ginny mumbled, rubbing her eyes sleepily as she looked at her family filling the room. "What happened?"

"Well," Mr. Weasley began. "I don't know how much you know about the attacks, but their main targets were Order members and their
families. There lots of deaths, but only one from the Order." He paused for what seemed to be an eternity. "Elphias Dodge
was killed; so was Tonk's mother. Bill is in the hospital, but they think he'll be fine." Hermione gasped.

"Is Bill going to be okay?" Ron asked, looking fearful.

"Yeah, he'll pull through. Just a few injuries," Fred said in an uncharacteristic display of seriousness.

"Another thing... that happened..." Mrs. Weasley looked like she was trying not to cry. "Well, I'm glad it was this instead
of losing someone, I don't think I could have dealt with that... but they set fire to the Burrow."

"Burned it to the ground," George said gloomily. Ginny put her hands over her mouth.

"But mum, where are we going to live?" Ginny whispered, staring at her mother. Tears slipped down Molly Weasley's face.

"We'll be fine, dear, we always have..." Harry stared at the family he loved more than any other, the one family that had
accepted him as a son. He knew they would not have enough money to buy another house, and he knew that he had the perfect solution.
Pulling himself out of bed, he rummaged through his trunk until he reached a box at the bottom. He opened it hurriedly and
pulled out an official-looking piece of parchment. He stood and walked over to where the Weasleys were.

"Here," he said, handing the parchment carefully to Mr. Weasley. "Maybe this will help." Realization dawned in Arthur Weasley's
eyes as he stared at it.

"Oh no, Harry, we couldn't possibly-" he began.

"Take it. It's yours," Harry demanded.

"But-"

"What is it, dear?" Molly asked kindly, dabbing at the tears in her eyes. Mr. Weasley continued to stare at the parchment
with a flustered look on his face.

"It's the deed to Number 12, Grimmauld Place," he said finally.

"Oh Harry, you know we couldn't accept that!" she said, wiping her eyes. 

"I'm giving it to you, whether you want it or not. You need somewhere to stay, and you've done more work on that house than
anyone else. You deserve it," Harry said firmly. 

"No dear, really, it's too much-" Mrs. Weasley protested. Mr. Weasley held up a hand.

"Thank you, Harry. I'm not sure that we'll be able to accept this but we will discuss that later. We only came to bring this 
bad news, and now we must be returning to Headquarters. The Order will need us," he said simply. Ron and Ginny said goodbye
to their parents, Fred, and George, and the family left. Ron climbed back into bed.

"I'm going to sleep until that meeting at noon," he announced. 

"Sounds good," Harry grunted, curling up under his soft covers.

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Nymphadora Tonks rolled over groggily in bed and stared at her alarm clock. It read 10:37. Damn it, she thought, attempting
to get up. I was supposed to be at work at 8. The battle last night had been brutal, and she felt exhausted and sore.
She had not gotten home until 4 AM, when she discovered that her house, too, had the Dark Mark hovering over it. Adrenaline 
and fear flooding her body, she had run inside only to see the limp figure of her mother, lying motionless on the kitchen
floor. She had summoned a few Order members and they had repaired things as best they could. Andromeda Tonks, however, was
gone from this world.

Nymphadora made her way slowly downstairs from her bedroom. She knew that most people in her situation would certainly skip
a day of work, but for Tonks this would only make things more suspicious. Only Order of the Phoenix members' homes had been
attacked, and if she told her boss that Voldemort had killed her mum, he would know she was working for Dumbledore as a spy.
I've got to go to work, she thought wearily. For the Order...

She was now standing above the exact spot where she had found her mother's body early this morning. Tears sprang into her eyes.
After her father, Ted Tonks, had died last year of a heart attack, Nymphadora had become extremely close to her mother.
Now they're both gone, she thought, tears rushing down her face.

"To hell with the Ministry," she growled aloud. "I'm not going to work." She walked over to a kitchen cupboard and pushed
things aside, unceremoniously knocking cans and boxes of cereal to the floor. She finally pulled out a bottle of Ogden's 
Old Firewhisky and collapsed onto the floor, sobbing. She gulped down the foul-tasting liquid until she could no longer tell 
how horrible it tasted. She felt as if she were a lost little girl.

"Mummy," she whispered, her eyes teary and her voice wavering. "I miss you."

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"Ron, Harry, wake up! Come on, it's nearly time for the meeting!" Hermione's voice, loud and scolding, rang through the Head
Boy's dormitory. Ron groaned.

"C'mon, Mione, just a few more minutes..."

"Ronald Weasley! GET UP! We're going to be late!" She left, slamming the door behind her.

"She sounds like my mum," Ron complained, climbing out of bed. Harry snickered.

"That she does. But she's right, it's nearly 12." They quickly threw on some fresh robes and hurried into the Heads' common
room, where Hermione was waiting impatiently with Ginny. 

"We've got to walk them all down there, you know," she said coldly, heading down the staircase to the main Gryffindor common 
room. Harry, Hermione, Ron, and the rest of the Gryffindor prefects led the way to the Great Hall. The students settled into
their seats at the house tables and waited for Dumbledore to begin.

"As many of you know, there was a very vicious Death Eater attack last night. Because all mail by way of owl has been blocked,
you may not know what I am about to tell you. Some of those who were the strongest opponents to Lord Voldemort were killed or
had their families murdered. Although it was at first thought that he was attacking families joined to... a particular institution,
he was instead murdering those who had spoken against him in any form." He paused. "Only a few minutes ago did I order the
ban against owls to be lifted. I expect that they will be here any minute now, most of them carrying bad news. Classes will
be postponed for the next week, and counselors will be available. If you do not feel comfortable talking to a stranger, you
may also confide in any of the prefects or the Head Boy and Girl...." Harry's mind was spinning. How many people died?
he thought frantically. I thought it was only a few. As Dumbledore had predicted, owls soon came pouring into the Great
Hall. Students left and right were getting the news that their parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, siblings, or friends had 
perished in the war. Girls were sobbing hysterically all around Harry. 

"Ron... this is horrible," Harry whispered. Ron simply nodded, his eyes wide. Harry saw Rachel approaching and his heart
sank. Her face was covered in tears and she was carrying a letter in her shaking hand. Harry couldn't even bring himself to
ask, but he didn't have to. Rachel spoke first.

"My aunt... and Adriana," she mumbled, covering her face. Harry pulled her into an embrace.

"Rach, I'm so sorry," he whispered, staring up at the enchanted ceiling. It was raining, pouring to be exact, and the lightning
flashing across it made him think of his own anger in the midst of his sadness.

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All of the students had been sent back to their common rooms, but no one felt much like talking any longer. The few lucky 
students who hadn't had anyone from their families die were quietly sitting in the common room doing homework, in hopes that
classes would be restarted soon and everything would be back to normal. Many of the students who knew someone who had died
had already left in preparation for the funeral.

Harry sat on the cushioned sofa in the Heads' common room, perusing one of the Defense Against the Dark Arts books that Remus
and Sirius had given him for Christmas a few years ago. Ron sat on the floor, playing a game of chess against himself, and
Hermione and Ginny were reading books on the other side of the room. Ron groaned loudly before flipping the entire chess board,
causing the pieces to scatter across the room. 

"Ron, stop it!" Ginny scolded, looking cross. 

"Someone talk, I'm sick of this silence," he snapped back. 

"So what are we supposed to talk about?" Hermione asked cooly, staring back at Ron.

"What about your prophecy, Hermione?" Harry asked suddenly. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all gave him an odd look. He continued.
"I meant, what does it mean? Maybe we could try to figure it out." Ron didn't look too optimistic. "It could take our minds
off... other things," Harry finished.

"I've been wondering that as well," Hermione said enthusiastically. "Let me find a quill and I'll write down the exact wording,
I still remember it all...." She pulled out some parchment and scribbled it down. "Hmmm, I've really no idea," she confessed.

"Hermione?? For once, you don't know something?" Ron asked mockingly.

"Shut it, Ron," Harry said without taking his eyes off the paper. He began to recite it. "The Dark Lord closes in, and the
battles increase... The power he possesses is unknown to all but two." Harry looked up. "Who's supposed to know about this
unknown power?"

"Well, obviously one human and one ghost," Hermione said logically.

"What?" Harry and Ron asked together. 

"One that lives and one that has yet to pass on," Hermione recited. "If they were both completely alive, it would have just
said that. but 'One that has yet to pass on' would have to be a ghost, correct?"

"Er... I guess so," Harry said doubtfully. This was making less and less sense.

"History will repeat itself, and the past will damange the future unless it is stopped by the One Who Lived," they chorused
together.

"So Harry... it's obviously talking about you-" Hermione said, but was interrupted.

"Of course it is, but we already know that. I have to defeat him, blah blah blah, because of the FIRST prophecy." He waved
his hand impatiently. "It's just repeating the other one."

"I don't think so," Hermione cautioned. She stared at the prophecy for a few more minutes. She gasped. "Harry, you're the
one that lives!"

"Um, yeah, the One Who Lived, I know," he said in an irritated tone.

"No! 'One that lives and one that has yet to pass on'! If you're the only one who can stop it, and only one living person
knows about this secret power, they must both mean you!" she exclaimed.

"Well, sorry, but no one's told me about any secret powers lately. I hate to disappoint you," he answered sarcastically. 

"Then they must be going to! And it will be from a ghost," she said firmly. A shiver ran down Harry's spine. You have talked
to a ghost, a voice in his head said. She wasn't a ghost, just some weird dream, he argued with it. But she
did mention a secret power... Harry shook himself internally to get rid of the thoughts. It couldn't possibly be true.
Hermione must be interpreting this prophecy all wrong.


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