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Life among the Ruins
Sirius raced through the back streets of London like a dog possessed, his four legs pumping and teeth barred, he paused every now and then to sniff out the air just to make sure he was on the right path. The scent he was pursuing was still fresh, meaning that his victim had only been through these pathways less then half an hour before. Barrelling under another shopping stall and startling its owner, he dived around another bend, and then hesitated to sniff…..No. Wrong way. Taking the opposite path he found the trail that he needed and chased after it again.
His mind was in turmoil. Anger. Overwhelming grief. Denial. Hatred. Guilt. Guilt. Guilt. The refrain searing his brain, clouding his judgement. He'd been up for almost 40 hours, he was physically exhausted, but every time he thought to turn back, to go back to Harry, he would smell 'him' again. And then it'd start all over again. Adrenalin was his only fuel now, Adrenalin and revenge.
Peter Pettigrew. How the hell could he?
The name played over and over in his mind, blood boiling and heart thumping with every thought. He was going to rip him into pieces when he found him. Merlin's prayer, he hated the rat enough to utter those dark words, the very same one that took his best friend.
Skidding to a halt abruptly, he inhaled carefully and visibly whimpered as if burned. His stood hunched, hackles raised as he growled low and dangerous, upsetting and scaring the few homeless muggles that were living in the short dead-end street.
Changing back into his human form he stood and looked around wildly. Eyes wide, wand out. He ignored the muggles that had gasped, shocked and terrified at his appearance, some visibly backing away and hunching into themselves.
"Come out, come out Peter," he yelled into the air, anger and disgust fairly dripping out in his words. "I know you're here…..I can smell you!"
Looking around again, he waited, breathing harshly and unsteadily.
"Come on Peter! You cowardly Bastard! Face me you Son-of-a-bitch!" he screamed at the walls, his voice echoing in the street.
An occupant of a pile of old newspapers peaked out from his makeshift shelter, and finding his courage somewhere he decided to answer the really angry man with the stick.
"You aint gonna fin' Pet'r here. There be a Pet'r do'n in Crinlan St, near Kin's Cross."
The angry black haired man turned suddenly towards the talking homeless, wand extended, narrowing his eyes he looked the old beggar over and then dismissed him.
Whirling around he angrily blasted a rubbish dump near the end of the street. Startled rats spewed forth, in the hurry to get away from the danger. Rubbish fell heavily from the mangled dumpster on to the already filthy cockroach infested ground.
Sirius ignored all this as he started stupefying and blasting the scurrying rats. Bright red streams of curses seemed to literally pour from his wand connecting with innocent and confused rats. So involved was he of his cursing spree that he did not hear the tell-tale 'pop' of a wizard apparating in. His only warning that he and the illusive Peter were no longer the only Wizards in the block was when he was hit in the back with a Petrifying charm.
Lying face down in the ground, he was consumed with anger. He had let his guard down and someone had managed to attack him from behind, Peter was going to pay dearly when he managed to fight this spell. He tensed internally as he felt a pair of hands turn him over until he was staring into a pair of familiar brown eyes.
Emmeline? He thought confused. She must have been able to read his eyes because a small smile graced her face before nodding and with a flick of her wrist, her wand produced the symbol of the members of the Order. Sighing heavily she looked around and then looked down at him, with something akin to rebuke lighting her eyes.
"Let's go Black, I've already contacted the Oblivators and they'll be here a few seconds."
No sooner had she said this then popping could be heard, and the heavy steps of another Wizard. The Wizard paused, and then he whistled.
"You sure don't do things by half Sirius."
Kingsley. Trust Emmeline to contact a member of the Order.
Standing up, the brown-eyed female shook hands with the dark-skinned Auror, smiling in relief.
"It's good to see you Kinglsey. Young Sirius here almost blew up half the street, as you can see; the only casualties are a few unfortunate Rats. I have to get him Dumbledore."
Nodding to each other in farewell, Emmeline removed a port-key their leader had given her and touching it to the still petrified animagus, they disappeared out of the street leaving their Order Colleague to do his work.
"….so you see? I thought it would be the best idea. No-one would have assumed he could have been secret keeper…Nobody!"
Dumbledore watched with much melancholy as the young black-haired auror paced in agitation, grief and guilt emanating off him in waves as he explained how it had all gone so horribly wrong. He nodded in understanding when the troubled young man uttered 'Nobody' with such fervour.
"Come Sirius, have a seat, you are making me dizzy with your pacing," he said lightly, trying to dispel the gloom that weighed heavily on the other's shoulders.
Once he had sat down, the wizened headmaster leaned forward, hands clasped on his desk, the very image of power, calm and control.
"I could tell you Sirius over and over again that James and Lily's death are no fault of yours, but it will mean absolutely nothing unless you are willing to believe it. So therefore I will not try. But I need you to remember that I did not agree with your assessment, and that I have never taken you to blame." Waiting for the small nod of agreement, which he received, he leaned back into his chair and contemplated Sirius over his half-moon glasses.
"I believe that there is the matter of one Mr Remus J Lupin who will need to hear what has occurred from a friend? All he knows Sirius is that James and Lily are dead. I decided that it would be better for him to hear everything else, including the events concerning the Secret Keeper, from you."
"I'll talk to Remus soon, but I want to see Harry first," Sirius answered, looking around like he expected Harry to waddle out of a hidden doorway any minute.
The twinkle in the elder wizard's blue eyes, which had come back at the mention of the little boy's name, dimmed somewhat while watching the eager godfather.
"You will not be able to see Harry, Sirius," he told the 21-year-old calmly.
Sirius misunderstanding his answer nodded in agreement.
"You're right, Harry's probably having a nap, where is he anyway. I'll go and see him when he wakes." His forehead wrinkled in anticipation as he waited for his answer.
Heaving a sad sigh, Albus silently summoned the two parchments that he had placed in his magical safe. As he waited for the documents to reach him he gave his reply to the somewhat impatient gentleman. He had known that this time would come and it was best to get all the anger out.
"Harry is not here Sirius. You will not be able to see him. I am afraid that you….I…will not be able to see him again for quite sometime."
Sirius' face screwed up in mystification, eyes reflecting his uncertainty. "What on earth are you talking about; Hagrid was the one who took him from me. I thought he was bringing him here? If he's not here, then where is he?"
He watched as the headmaster unrolled one of the scrolls that he had summoned, and tapped his wand to it to flatten it out. Laying the now official looking Parchment onto his desk he motioned towards it. "I suggest you read this, my boy."
Searching the old-man's face for an answer and finding none, Sirius bent his head towards the document and read, stomach clenching in apprehension, anxiety rising to unknown levels.
Nothing was said for the following long minutes as he read through it, he hesitated at the end of the document, jaw hardening, before reading through it again. Half-way through the document he stopped, the disbelief he had felt after the first read through was now replaced with overwhelming hostility and some small semblance of shock. Hands shaking unsteadily, he placed the first document on the table and reached out for the second.
His eyes widened as he glanced at the title of the legal document, and no longer deluding himself that he contained a single façade of control, he launched to his feet and brought his fist crashing down onto the ancient table.
"No!...I won't let you do this….he is my godson. Mine! You have no right……absolutely no justification to do……this," he screamed waving the now crumpled parchment in his hands.
Eyes reflecting his sorrow, he continued with his tirade, injecting all the desperation and angst that he had into his tone, "I trusted you!...When I gave him to Hagrid….I trusted you!...to bring him here! Where you are…..you can't do this to me…you can't do this to Harry….he needs me!"
Seeing that his tone and his words were having no effect on the headmaster, angered Sirius beyond a point that he never thought he could have ever attained, and so he lashed out with words, wishing to rattle him and cause him as much pain as he had given him. Tone full of loathing and venom, the disappointments and revulsion that he had faced in the past 72 hours came full circle and rushed out of him in waves.
"You!...you sit there," he spat out frigidly, "having failed Lily and James. I bet your so happy now aren't you! The great Albus Dumbledore has found a way to make sure Harry Potter will always….always!...be under his influence! You sit there….swimming in your failure!
Is this it then Headmaster! Is this how you plan to repent then? Or is this just another way that you…..you fucking manipulative son-of-a-bitch….c-can influence…..you are nothing Dumbledore! Hear that you bastard! Nothing! You're nothing but a fraud."
And having yelled his last malicious words into the elder Wizard's face, he span on his heals and stalked heavily out of the room, pausing at the door he turned back around, face heavy with emotion he fired one last parting shot.
"I'm going to find a way…..you watch….by the end of this week Harry will be back with me!...I'll make sure that you never fail Harry the way you failed his parents…and don't you ever think that you'll ever come near him again!"
The door of the Headmaster's Office slammed shut as he walked off, but inside, the sole occupant of the room was distraught and tortured.
Five days later the mood of the Magical community was just as sombre as the grieving Godfather, though for very different reasons. It was a very stark contrast to the celebratory atmosphere which had followed the defeat of the Dark Lord, if anything; the ambience had regressed back to its previous seriousness – although not as dire. The cause for the sudden mood swing had been, of course, the headline of the morning's newspapers.
HUSBAND-WIFE AUROR TEAM, TORTURED INTO INSANITY.
DEATH-EATERS TORTURE COUPLE. "THEY'RE AS GOOD AS DEAD" SAY'S HEALERS.
NOT AS SAFE AS WE THOUGHT: TOP AUROR'S TORTURED INTO MADNESS.
The inhabitants of the magical school had woken to the news that Frank and Alice Longbottom had been attacked by Death-Eaters in the night, and then tortured with an unforgivable – the Cruciatus Curse.
For the Headmaster, the news was met with just as much sorrow, guilt and negative emotion that had enveloped the deaths at Godrics Hollow, especially as once again, he wondered why he didn't prevent it. Frank Longbottom had decided to lift the Fidelius charm on his house, wanting to come out of hiding, figuring that they were safe. He had ignored the warnings of both Dumbledore and Alastor Moody – who had been there Secret Keeper, and had advanced with the dismantling of the wards. The fact that the decision had all been the Longbottom's did nothing to ease the self-blame that continued to plague the old Wizard, especially as Sirius' words still played heavily in his mind.
For Sirius however, the Longbottom's demise gave him reason to doubt his tenaciousness in trying to get his Godson back. He hadn't been successful much, as he had severely underestimated just how much respect and reverence the headmaster received – but this wasn't the reason why he now doubted himself. His uncertainty arose from the fact that although Voldemort was gone, his servants still ran around unchecked and unhindered. The Longbottom's had been one of Britains top aurors, they were no easy target, yet if the headlines were to be believed, 'they were as good as dead'. His Godson was just a baby. If he eventually (and miraculously, a small voice whispered from the recesses of his brain) succeeded in overturning the Guardianship papers, as well as Dumbledore's authority in granting it, his 24 hour/seven days a week protection of Harry may well never be enough. And it scared him.
He had regretted his harsh words to the headmaster the minute he had woken up the next day, but his pride and no little amount of anger had kept him from crawling back and apologising. His friendship with Remus had healed somewhat, yet his friend had refrained from commenting on his fervour to reclaim his godson, but Sirius had no doubt that the lycan did not agree with his actions. Since the headlines that morning, he had started to wonder if among Dumbledore's reasons for handing Harry over to some complete unknown was the threat to his safety. If it was, and Sirius had an incredibly bad feeling that it was so, then he had seriously fucked up completely. He had accused the most Powerful Wizard in the world of being manipulative (which he might have been, but never for anything bad) and then of being a failure – which any fool could never have assumed from his list of accomplishments.
Thinking it over (which took all of ½ an hour); he determined to swallow the bullet and head back to Hogwarts to discover the rationale behind the venerable wizard's actions, and if necessary, apologise. Steeling himself, he apparated to the edges of the Hogwarts wards, and proceeded most reluctantly towards the school itself.
Two hours later he left the school feeling very repentant, somewhat embarrassed, but never more agreeable that letting Harry go was the best thing to ever happen to anyone. As Albus had informed him, Harry was safe. Harry was cared for. But most importantly, Harry was Loved.
It took almost another week for the magical population to feel some semblance of safety. The heavy sentences handed to former death-eaters helped, so did the comforting presence of Aurors patrolling the four heavily crowded magical shopping towns – Diagon Alley, Pruidton, Hogsmead and Puddlemere. Their presence coupled with the increase of bargain hunters only helped to reinforce the return to normality.
As Lady Bagnold had predicted, she received an overwhelming amount of owls from people enquiring about the young saviour. And keeping to her promise to Dumbledore, she informed them that he was safe, loved, and cared for. A few people, including some rather unsavoury characters (Lucius Malfoy among them) had attempted to force the Ministry to reveal the child's location – all in the name of public interest of course, hiding behind the veneer of concern and apprehension. Albus was obligated to intervene following an attempted assassination on the Ministry Head by an obsessed witch.
Weeks turned into months, and Remus believed it safe enough to breach the idea of having a memorial ceremony at the Godric Ruins. Sirius supported the idea, yet with much scepticism pertaining to the muggle idea of 'closure'. Together with members of the Order they began to plan the ceremony, and the rituals that would be involved. All rites involving 'sole survivors' were vetoed as Albus emphatically stated that young Harry would not attend since it would involve a huge security operation that an event as hallowed as the one they were planning could never cater to.
The idea that the ceremony would be attended by close friends and colleagues slowly drifted off course as more and more people were informed. All those that didn't know as the date came closer were told through the various Wizarding media. Many celebrities made it known that they would be there, among them Celestina Warbeck who composed a song relating to young Harry – a song that Sirius had authorised her to sing at the conclusion of the ceremony.
The week before the ceremony it was obvious that at least half of the magical population would be in attendance, the Ministry were forced to create a reason to evacuate the surrounding muggle area so that the Observance could go ahead and alterations could be made. So for eight days, the muggles within the locale were told that there was a sewage and chemical leak in the area which was affecting the drinking waters and may endanger their health since they weren't entirely sure of wind currents, they were evacuated to a nearby town, allowing the Magical ministry to put weak notice-me-not charms around the entrances into the region as well as apparition and port-key points. Any other stronger wards would have interfered with the magic performed within the ceremony.
The day of the Ceremony dawned, and almost as if the god's were in complete agreement with the mood of the day, the weather was cold and cloudy – but it didn't look like rain, and it certainly didn't look like thunderclouds either.
Members of the Order of the Phoenix arrived at Godric's Hollow at 7am to find almost 300 people already there waiting, the ceremony wasn't due to start until 11am. Houses surrounding the Potter's residence had been destroyed (without the use of magic) and the area flattened using muggle machinery to make room for the huge number of people descending into the area. Ministry workers and volunteers had been working non-stop for almost five days to ready the district, and almost 250 homes had been destroyed. No possessions had been removed from the houses before the destruction began, for as soon as the ceremony was over the Ministry Correction department would start magically repairing all homes back to its original state – including all possessions within.
By 10am another 75 homes had been decimated to make room for the already overflowing congregation, and still in the distance, the Order could make out people apparating and port-keying in. A quick meeting was held and it was agreed to postpone the ceremony until noon, to give the hard-pressed ministry workers time to decimate a few more houses.
As Albus looked down at his watch, its planets and stars aligned in the configuration that indicated that it was noon, he walked up to the platform erected alongside the destruction and lit the five candles situated on the small table, starting the first of the rituals. His voice, pitched low and magically amplified, chanted the Latin words, pausing with each candle as those observing repeated after him.
- Taken from "Remembering the Dead" (1)
Creating the Ritual Candles
There must be five; each candle must contain something representing the five stages of the deceased's life. Birth. Infancy. Youth. Maturity. Death.
If it is a young child who has passed on, then the light representing Maturity can be changed to the' light of Expectation', in which case whatever is used in the making of the candle must be something that symbolises the expectations for the young one.
Commeminisse – To remember fully
The first Ritual will always be the 'Commeminisse'. The beginning of the ritual will always start with the lighting of the candles, starting with Birth, and ending with Death. With each candle lit, the conductor of the ceremony (from here on out will be referred to as the Observer) will chant "teneo, tenere, tenui, tentum" (roughly translated: to preserve, to understand, to contain, to remember), in which those in attendance will repeat.
The lighting of the candles symbolises the gathering of the spirits, those that have guided the deceased in his endeavours, the latin phrase "teneo, tenere, tenui, tentum" is an oath to the guardians that those gathered understand the importance of a spirit 'moving on'.
The candles are kept alight until the last of ritual has been done. Should any candle flicker out during the ceremony it is important that the Lighting ritual be repeated. .
The second part of the Commeminisse is the "Expurgo", or the purifying of the minds. This ritual acts as a clean slate between those who seek to find closure with the deceased. If there had been a feud whilst living and those in attendance need to find solace within their memories, then this ritual acts as that connection.
Expurgo starts with the Observer washing his hands in water vessel. The vessel can be anything, but please note, the best symbolisation for 'memories' will always be a Pensieve, so if one can be found for the ceremony then use it. While the Observer washes his hands the congregation will chant "Aufer a nobis, iniquitates nostras ut ad Sancta sanctorum puris mereamur mentibus introir. Oramus te." (Take away from us, that we may enter with pure minds into the Holy of Holies. We beseech you)
The Observor is acting as the representative of the congregation, the washing of hands is the representation of the washing away of all ill will and memories associated with pain, focusing only on understanding that it had happened, and that now is the time that it needs to be acknowledged and then forgotten.
With the Washing of hands complete, the Observer will cup the water in his hands and lift it above him, so as to let it cascade and flow from his hands down into the vessel. He will do this five times in which he will chant: "Vidi aquam, Asperges me, et mundabor" (I saw water coming, Thou shalt sprinkle me, and I shall be cleansed). On the fifth, the congregation shall repeat with him.
As he let the water flow through his fingers again, Albus listened as the voices of the magical people joined his in the refrain. Then finishing the second part of the ritual he lightly shook his wet hands towards the West, East, the North and finally the South. Holding up his hand, he gestured lightly, and with a rumble everyone went down on their knees in prayer. They stayed this way for almost ten minutes, waiting for the Hogwarts headmaster to rise first.
Every Observer must give his congregation time for personal entreaty – a mental form of a written letter between the attending and the deceased. As a sign of respect to the deities as well as the Guardian spirits in attendance, it must be given on your knees. Five minutes should be enough time, but where the congregation is large and varied, then ten minutes should be sufficient without irritating the Guardians. The first person to rise should always be the Observer, and when he has done so he should lead the congregation in thanking the Guardians of the watchtowers. First bow to the North, then to the South, From the East, and then to the West. Once done all must say, "Sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et semper, et in saecula saeculorum." (As it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be, world without end.)
So ends the second part of the Commeminisse, and so starts the third and last. This is where the Observer will remain seated and members of the deceased family and/or friends will deliver what muggles call a 'eulogy' for the deceased. This is a newer practice, having been introduced only one hundred years ago to accommodate the large number of muggle-borns and muggle influenced communities who wished to involve this practice within the sanctity of the rituals. Somewhere within their acclamation the words "beatae memoriae" (of blessed memory) must be said.
Once all eulogies have been brought forth, the Observer will once again take control of the ceremony. A short prayer in whatever language you should want will follow, and then the Commeminisse will end with the words: " requiescat in pace" (rest in peace), to be said by the entire congregation.
It is here that the candles should be blown out by the Observer, should another ceremony follow on then 'Birth' must be kept alight until the very end, and excluded at this moment.
Albus Dumbledore waited until the huge crowd settled down before speaking, mentally he thanked the Gods that it wasn't a sunny day or else everyone would be a whole lot more flustered.
"So we have come to the end of the Commeminisse. We remembered two lives that were tragically lost here, and with respect, also remember other lives that were lost during the last ten years. We remember those that have not died, yet have suffered horrendously due to the followers of the dark. We remember, because in our grief it is what we must do. We remember in the hope that we learn. That we can find a way of preventing it from ever happening again.
Via Dolorosa, it is the way of Sorrow.
Let us pray, for the blessings upon these ruins. Let us say to Guardians of the watchtowers "These ruins are the representation of our despair. This is our symbol of fear, of our ultimate fall. It is dark; it is terrifying and it is intimidating to comprehend. Yet among these ruins, and rising like a phoenix from the ashes, we found our salvation. We found our hope.
Bless us, Goddess. And like the ground on which these ruins lay, may the grass and wildflowers grow again, embracing us in the new beginning that marks this day."
Concluding his speech, Albus looked around the watching faces of the wizarding population, bowed his head in respect, and then blew out the last candle that had 'ORTUS' etched into it – Birth.
A tear trailed down the old man's face and then raising his head, he spread his hands wide and gave his last blessing, "Vade in Pace".
He left the platform and joined his Order of the Phoenix members in tossing a handful of seeds onto the ruins, and then they united with the rest of the magical population in listening to the magical voice of Celestina Warbeck as she sang her newest song. (2)
Sometimes the world we live in is uncertain
in a moment what's known can slip away.
And we feel as we walk among the ruin
our hope dwindle as we greet the coming day.
Faces full of tears, such pain and desperation
you can almost feel it blowing in the air.
Clouds billowing, a cold and sad reminder
of what stood, but is no longer there.
Hands out reaching to soothe the broken hearted
we can't see beyond the tears for the lost souls.
Terror's wrath forever etched inside our hearts now
we question if we ever will feel whole.
And then I heard a baby's cry among the ruin
as I thought about that tiny, gentle life
my heart told me that we could not let this wee one
grow up in a world of terror, fear and strife.
So we must gather round the waterfall of our tears
and hold each other's hearts within our own.
The children of tomorrow must feel safe here
for there still is no place dearer than our home.
We will dig our way through acts of pure destruction
eyes full of tears but heads held high with pride.
And though tomorrow seems like it will take forever
the sun will rise on this great country, freedom shines.
When I lay my weary head upon my pillow
and pray to God to help us as we grieve.
I have to know within my heart that we'll recover
if I don't, what are the young ones to believe?
And then I heard a baby's cry among the ruin
as I thought about that tiny, gentle life
my heart told me that we could not let this wee one
grow up in a world of terror, fear and strife.
So we must gather round the waterfall of our tears
and hold each other's hearts within our own.
The children of tomorrow must feel safe here
for there still is no place dearer than our home.
O.k…I swear, this is the last chapter with any grieving in it for a very long time…I think. Thank you to all those who reviewed. It's much appreciated, and kudos to those who have actually read Christine Feehan's books, we have kindred spirits.
(1) I made this entire ritual up, but many of the Latin phrases I've taken from the Remembrance Liturgy for Catholic masses. I apologise if I've offended anyone with it, but I had to get my Latin phrases from somewhere.
(2) This is actually a poem. A real one. It's called 'A baby's cry among the ruins' and it's written by Ellen Dubois. There is no way in hell I could have attempted to string two sentences together and even attempted to write a song, so I had to borrow from someone else. If by some miracle that Ms Dubois even stumbled across this, then I'd first like to say thank you for writing such a wonderful poem, and then 'sorry' for butchering it in this context.