Harry stood stone-faced before the entrance to his headmaster's office. His heart dropped into his stomach, and his breathing speed up dramatically. Scenes between himself and Lupin flashed in his head: Lupin giving him the picture book, Lupin teaching him to tackle the dementors, and Lupin holding him back as Sirius gracefully fell through the veil. McGonagall, Dumbledore, and Professor Mac descended the stairs and stopped abruptly as they saw Harry.

"Ah, Harry. I see Dobby has followed my instructions to get you," Dumbledore said his voice slightly hollowed. "And Mark, I need to speak to you both privately."

Harry had forgotten about Mark coming up the hall in his thoughts of Remus.

"What's going on?" Harry demanded feeling extremely sick at the answer he would get, but he had to hear the words himself for it to be true.

"I'm going to go, Albus," Professor Mac said softly and turned to leave.

"What are you doing here?" Harry demanded again his temper rapidly escalating at being ignored.

"I was informing Professor Dumbledore on how well you did the other night," Professor Mac responded, but Harry could tell he was lying.

"Are you part of the Or-," Harry tried to ask, but he was interrupted by Dumbledore.

"The answer to your question, Harry, is yes, but young ears should not be made to hear about such serious matters," the headmaster said firmly lowering his head in Mark's direction.

Harry lowered his head as well, trying desperately to control his emotions as instructed, but the memory of Lupin giving him some Honeyduke's chocolate on the train in third year filled his mind, and tears filled his eyes.

"Questions will be answered shortly, but I would ask Harry, Mark, and Professor McGonagall to accompany me back to my office," Dumbledore said.

Professor Mac put a strong hand on Harry's shoulder and then strode down the hall. The foursome walked back up the spiral staircase, and Dumbledore produced two armchairs, as always, and he took a seat behind his desk. Mark looked around in awe, never having been in the magnificent room. Harry looked around, as well, and noticed all the portraits were wide awake and a number of headmistresses were crying.

"I have some rough news for both of you," Dumbledore said gravely, and Professor McGonagall sniffed loudly behind them.

Harry was quite confused by then. Why was Mark here if something had happened to Lupin? Mark had never even met Lupin. Harry quickly looked at his young cousin and then it dawned on him. In his thoughts of Remus, he had never even considered his Uncle Desmond.

"There is no easy way to say this, and it is hard for everyone, even those who have been through this before," Dumbledore said resting his knowing eyes on Harry.

Mark looked from Dumbledore to Harry and then back to Dumbledore in nothing short of terror.

"I'm very sorry, boys, but Desmond Evans died earlier this evening," Dumbledore stated.

"NO!" Mark cried jumping to his feet, the armchair toppling over and almost hitting McGonagall's knees.

"I'm so sorry, Mark, but it is true," Dumbledore said.

The headmaster stood up and went to give Mark a hug, but Mark wrenched away before he could.

"He just sent me a letter yesterday that Harry could stay for the holidays! This can't be true!" Mark wailed, and he began to sob.

Mark's voice sounded so empty, and Harry hated to hear it because he related to it all too well. McGonagall put an arm around Mark's shoulders, and he gave up. She led the crying boy out of the office. Harry stood up to follow them, but Dumbledore stopped him.

"Wait. We have much to discuss," Dumbledore said, sitting wearily back into his chair.

Harry sat automatically, desperately wanting to go to his room and sleep forever. He felt guilty because he was glad it wasn't Lupin, but then he was distraught at never knowing his mother's only brother.

"Was it Lucius?" Harry said bluntly.

Dumbledore's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Yes. We believe Lucius, Macnair, and Bellatrix were there," Dumbledore said.

"I thought Lupin had died," Harry said.

"Why?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry went into the story of Draco and the letter, and when he was finished, Dumbledore nodded.

"I can see where you would be concerned, and I applaud your common sense to send a coded letter rather than going on a hero mission," the headmaster replied.

Harry took that as an insult and a compliment, but he let it pass because he was hungry for information.

"Desmond knew this was coming," Dumbledore remarked quietly.

"How?" Harry asked very surprised.

"He knew it was only a matter of time before the Deatheaters found him again. He sent me a letter telling me what happened when he left fifteen years before. He went to fight the Deatheaters alone when he heard of your parent's deaths. He killed several of them in a surprise attack, but they eventually overpowered him, so he disapparated. Somewhere Lord Voldemort must have found out about him being alive and sent his followers to kill him," Dumbledore said.

"How did they find out," Harry asked trying to think if he gave anything away.

"Probably from someone telling him that Mark was at school. They are stealthy people and can find out anything if they want it bad enough. Desmond was an important target to them," Dumbledore explained.

"Why was he so important? Was it because he had killed those Deatheaters." Harry asked.

"That might be part of the reason, but the main reason is because he knew the incantation to the green flame torch. Your mother trusted it to him those many years before," Dumbledore stated.

Harry was still for a moment as he absorbed this information. When he spoke, it was in a rigid, angry voice.

"So what am I supposed to do here, sir?" Harry demanded. "I'm here at Hogwarts and the torch is locked up at the Ministry! Tell me what to do, and I'll do it, but right now it doesn't really look like I have many choices in this situation!"

Dumbledore stared calmly at Harry, his eyes full of seriousness.

"Maybe, Harry, hero missions are not all that rash," Dumbledore said raising his eyebrows.

Harry was speechless. Was Dumbledore actually telling Harry to plan a raid on the Department of Mysteries?

"That is all, Harry," Dumbledore directed. "You have a lot to think about. Your Uncle Desmond's funeral will be held on Monday. Mark will be staying with us at Grimmauld Place until further arrangements are made."

"Yes, sir," Harry said and exited the room, knowing he had never left that office feeling more confident on what he had to do.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione packed their things on Saturday afternoon and took a portkey to Grimmauld Place with McGonagall. Ron and Hermione were shocked at the news, and they never left his side. Harry appreciated them being so supportive. As they walked through the house of his dead godfather, they saw Mark sitting alone in the living room looking forlorn. Harry motioned to Ron and Hermione to leave, and he walked over to his young cousin.

"I'm so sorry, Mark," Harry said as he sat next to him.

"I'm going to find whoever did this and kill them one day," Mark said so softly Harry could barely hear him.

"I share your sentiment," Harry said bitterly. "But it will get better, I promise. These things just take time. Trust me. I know."

"Well, I don't want to know, and I don't want to be like you!" Mark yelled.

Harry was silent. He knew Mark was just lashing out, so he let it slide.

"I'm sorry," Mark said almost instantly and a look of utter despair crossed his face.

"It's okay, Mark. I understand. I destroyed Dumbledore's office when Sirius died," Harry said trying to make him feel better because Mark didn't need guilt on top of his grieving.

"This was Sirius' house, right?" Mark asked looking around.

Harry winced at the word "was," but he nodded.

They sat and discussed the Order for close to an hour. Dumbledore had no choice but to fill the boy in on some things, but Harry knew Mark was trustworthy. That is why he had let him in the D.A. No one bothered them while they talked.

Everyone knew Mark needed time with Harry because he was his last real relative besides his mom, which Harry had accidently heard from McGonagall "couldn't be found."

Finally, Mrs. Weasley came to get them for dinner. She gave Harry her traditional bone-breaking hug, and introduced herself to Mark.

"It's nice to meet you, dear, I'm Ron's mother," she said shaking his hand.

"I'm Mark," he said warming up a little bit.

Harry smiled because he knew that Mark desperately needed a motherly figure, and Mrs. Weasley would rise to the occasion. Harry felt like she was his mother sometimes. Dinner was quiet. No one was really in the mood to talk. Harry could tell that everyone was thinking that this war was turning from bad to worse. They all went to bed somber and thoughtful. Sunday passed uneventful. Mark spent a lot of time in the room he had to himself. Ron and Harry played a few games of wizard chess, and Hermione read a book. On Monday morning they all dressed in their dress robes and carried their jackets with them down to the front hall. Mrs. Black stayed silent for there was no noise to wake her. Even Tonks, who was there to walk with them to the cemetery, was unusually solemn and still. As Mark walked down the stairs in severely black dress robes, Tonks approached him.

"Hi, Mark. My name is Tonks, and I knew your father well. He was good friends with my mom, Andromeda, and he was a good man," she said her eyes, full of unshed tears.

Mark looked up at her and smiled weakly.

"Thank you," he said and was silent.

Mrs. Weasley called for them at the door and they all followed. Mr. Weasley had said that the wizard's cemetery was just three blocks from Grimmauld Place. Harry heard Hermione telling Ron as they walked that wizard cemeteries were all over the place just as Muggle ones were. Just like other wizarding buildings, the cemeteries had spells and enchantments on them to keep Muggles away. They arrived ten minutes later, and Harry was amazed at how many people were there. For a man who had been supposedly missing for fifteen years, a lot of people still remembered him. There were different groups of witches and wizards talking quietly and all wearing dress robes and somber faces. Harry saw Fudge, Percy, and many teachers from school. It was frigid outside at December's end, and many people were rubbing their hands together to keep warm as they chatted quietly. It seemed everyone stopped their conversation as Harry and Mark walked onto the gravesite. The rich brown casket was open, and Harry and Mark stopped in unison a few feet in front of it. Harry could tell Mark was struggling with the thought that this would be the last time he would lay eyes on his father. Harry was dealing with fact that the only time he would see his mother's brother would be in a coffin. Ron approached them and put a hand on each of their shoulders.

"You have to make your peace," Ron said in a moment of rare sincerity.

Mark took a deep breath and stepped foward first. Everyone watched this young boy mourn his father, and while they didn't want to watch, there was nowhere else to look and no more words to say. Mark didn't cry, but put his hands on the side of the casket and looked down at his dead father. He stood there for close to three minutes and then walked away no longer a boy but a man. Harry took a few steps up to see the first and last glimpse of his uncle, and as he walked, he felt eyes burning into the back of his head. His first thought when he saw him was that he looked nothing like his mother. Harry would have never known they were related. His uncle had wavy jet black hair, a strong chin, and a hawk nose. He was very handsome and looked like he was asleep on the soft white lining of the casket. Harry smiled sadly as he thought that this man was his mother's best friend. Harry stepped back and walked back to his friends. He saw Mark standing off to the side alone with a stone face, and Harry let him be. Harry saw Dumbledore approach a podium that was in front of a plethora of different flower arrangements, and the quiet chatter stopped immediately.

"Desmond Evans was a man of great respect. He was a powerful wizard, trusted friend, and a wonderful father to his son, Mark. He was a casualty in this war and a great loss to the wizarding community. Help me honor this man that we thought was lost to us but has been in our hearts all along," Dumbledore said looking and sounding so majestic that his words took everyone's breath away.

Hermione was crying into Ron's shoulder, and Mrs. Weasley stood tall next to her husband with tears running down her cheeks. Most of the men stood on the brink of tears, and Harry felt he had never felt so sorrowful at one point in his entire life. Five older wizards stood in a row in back of the casket and held their wands diagonal toward the sky. Brilliant ocean blue sparks flew into the air and rained down softly on the crowd. There was a moment of silence and then everyone gradually dispersed.

"Are you okay, Harry?" Hermione asked him wiping tears off her face but still holding onto Ron's arm.

Harry suddenly missed Mandy terribly and needed to get away.

"I'm fine," he answered. "I'm going to walk around a bit."

His friends nodded, and he heard Mr. Weasley tell him not to go far. Harry waved a hand in acknowledgment and walked out into the cemetery. He had gone three rows of graves when he saw something that broke his heart. Two fine granite tombstones stood inches from each other with his parent's names engraved on them. Harry sank down on the grass in shock. It had not even occurred to him that his parent's graves would be here, but it made perfect sense. Two stone hearts connected the graves, and they read:

James Potter

Beloved Husband and Father

1961-1982

Lily Evans Potter

Beloved Wife and Mother

1961-1982

Harry couldn't hold back the tears any longer that had been threatening all day. He sat and cried for his parents, Sirius, Kingsley, Desmond, and all the others that had been killed at Voldemort's hands. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up quickly. Lupin's face looked back down at him. He sat down beside Harry, never saying a word, and let Harry cry for all that were lost.