Reaching Maturity
Disclaimer: I've put a disclaimer at the start of every chapter preceding this one; do I really need it? I do? Oh well. Not mine. If they were, do you honestly think I'd be posting on slight reference to a scene between Pippin and Gandalf in the RotK movie (it's probably in the book as well, but I haven't read it for a while so I can't remember if it is or not). That's not mine either, BTW.
Author's whinge: the above sentence is nonsense but that's because it won't upload properly AND the stupid QuickEdit isn't saving the changes, EVEN THOUGH THAT'S ITS JOB.
Caroline: there is a letter on its way to you in the post about last Sunday's Late Evening Service at my church (did I tell you what it was about/why I really wanted to go? I can't remember).
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Chapter 25: Departure from Hogwarts
The students were sent home on the Thursday. Some from years that hadn't had important external exams had already left, called home by anxious and scared parents. These students were mainly from families that were at least part-wizarding. Now, though, none remained at Hogwarts save for the four members of the Assembly, and they watched the rest of their friends, housemates and fellow students go from the Transfiguration classroom window.
"So. It's just us now," stated Harry. Draco nodded dazedly. Both of them were filled with a sense of unrealness, as though it wasn't really happening, as if it were a dream.
"This is when things really start to hit home," said Hannah softly, sitting down on a nearby desk and swinging her legs idly. She didn't feel eighteen; she felt more like a small child that had no control over her world. She didn't like it at all. It scared her. Her hand unconsciously strayed to the sword that hung at her waist, and rested there on the hilt.
"We never did find out whom this supposed student Death Eater was," mused Hermione, running her fingers over a teapot that had been used in an exam. The aim, she recalled (if it was the same exam she had done), was to Transfigure the teapot into a tortoise. Clearly McGonagall had returned all of the teapots to their original form.
"We probably never will now," said Draco. "Not even if one of us faces them in battle, because some more will join tonight and in the days to come." He had recovered from his minor relapse the previous day – having gone to bed at four the previous afternoon and slept soundly for seventeen hours, he felt much better. Not that it meant he had to like it, of course. Which he didn't. At all.
Hermione turned her attention to the teapot she had been examining, and transfigured it into a tortoise and back again, numerous times, to relieve her boredom. They were all at a loose end, not knowing what was going on or what to do with themselves. All of them felt that, much as they hated preparing for a battle, the waiting and not knowing was far, far worse.
Hannah, still swinging her legs, began humming tunelessly as she gazed out of the window at the school drive, where the last of the carriages was now disappearing from. Harry rubbed his scar, which was aching again, and Draco picked up his sketchbook and pencils, attempting to capture the scene in front of him of the other three engrossed in their various activities.
"So what do we do now?" Harry inquired, removing the teapot from under Hermione's wand as the tortoise was acquiring a rather dazed look by now. He felt sorry for the poor thing; it must be getting really confused by now.
Draco glanced up from his drawing to see Lupin standing in the doorway. He jumped slightly. "Professor?"
"We aren't staying at Hogwarts any longer. The Headmaster feels that Voldemort and his followers may attempt to take the school as long as we – or, more specifically, Harry – remains inside," answered Lupin gravely.
"What about all our things?" asked Hermione. "All our books and so on."
"Books stay here. You won't be needing them and you can get them later, when all this is over. Plus the place we're going to has most of them anyway, as well as plenty of others. We'll be going to my home; there's plenty of room for everyone with space left over. Go up to your room and sort out all your clothes and belongings. Sirius is up there. He'll tell you what to bring and what to leave. You won't want things like dress robes; there won't be anything fancy that requires them. If things go well, you can collect them at a later date." He looked at the girls. "Forget skirts and dresses; they're impractical. Transfigure them into trousers if you want to take them. And for goodness' sake keep your wands and swords close to hand at all times." He hurried off.
The four faced each other, fear beginning to rise. This sudden urgency was making it more real, more frightening. Draco shoved his sketchbook and tools into his robes. "Let's go."
In scared silence they hurried up to the hospital wing, where they were met by Sirius. "You've each got one rucksack. Put your stuff out on your bed. Pack nothing until I say you can. Harry, take your Cloak." His tone was brisk, businesslike.
The packing ended up taking over two hours. Hermione spent the best part of fifteen minutes persuading Sirius – and Lupin, who had appeared by now – to let her take a few small books "for evening distraction". He agreed in the end, mainly because it was the only way to get her to drop the subject. Draco had far less trouble when he asked if his art materials would be allowed. Hannah had her suspicions that Pomfrey had spoken to Sirius about the issue.
Finally, they were ready. They had their lunch (late) and spent the afternoon wandering around the castle and the grounds, saying goodbye to everything, not knowing when – if – they would see it all again. Tea was a picnic with the teachers, Sirius and Hagrid down by the lake. Even the giant squid seemed to sense the occasion, and it lay on the shore, enjoying being tickled by the four students and some of the less reserved members of staff, such as Hagrid and Professor Flitwick.
"Yeh'll be alrigh'," said Hagrid confidently. "We've got the giants on our side now, 'swell as a few other sorts that were undecided. You-Know-'Oo, 'e's too confident. Too arrogant, I reckon."
"Perhaps," said Sprout cautiously. "Don't you go getting overconfident, Hagrid. That will do us no good at all; who would lead the giants?"
"Lupin, you mentioned setting up the cellar for potion-brewing?" cut in Snape from where he sat at the edge of the group. Harry noticed that he was looking extremely strained and tired, and he hoped that Snape would be able to hold out. Much as he disliked the teacher, he didn't want him to die.
"All set up as you requested," Lupin confirmed. He tossed a key to Snape, who deftly caught it. "That's the key for the cellar. Keep it locked when you're not in there. It's not that I don't trust anyone, but should anyone from outside come in, it's just a bit of extra security. Don't lose it; there's no masterkey, and alohomora doesn't work on it. That key and my own are bewitched so that the lock recognises them and rejects all others. You can't be too careful at the moment."
"Could we not have used one on Lockhart?" said Snape. "Locked him in your cellar. It would have made things far easier. Potter, Granger, is it true that he set a cageful of Cornish pixies loose in your lesson?"
Harry and Hermione visibly cringed as they remembered that dreadful lesson from their second year. Lockhart had left Harry, Hermione and Ron to clear up while he disappeared. "Please don't remind us of that!" pleaded Hermione, desperately hoping her face was not turning red as she recalled the crush she (and most of the girls in Hogwarts at that time) had had on the inept man.
"My apologies, Miss Granger. I merely wished to have the rumour confirmed or denied."
Dumbledore glanced round at the group and got to his feet, facing them all. The others fell silent. "I think," the headmaster announced wearily and gravely, "that it is time we moved. You are all dispersing to your allocated areas of the country. Hagrid, where is you are off to?"
"Eastern Europe again," replied Hagrid. "There are a few giants that are waitin' to hear news from me." He went over to the four students. "Good luck. I'll be thinkin' of yeh until I see yeh again." He hugged Harry and Hermione tightly, then Hannah, before he held out his massive hand to Draco. "Yeh'll be someone we can be proud of, Mr. Malfoy. Good luck."
Draco smiled at him. "Sorry for everything I did for most of my time here. And – and thanks. Good luck yourself."
"Those of you who are not travelling to Remus' house, no doubt we shall see you in time," said Dumbledore gravely. "Students, collect your rucksacks from where Poppy will have placed them in the Entrance Hall. We will walk to Hogsmeade and then Apparate to Remus' home. Goodbye, everyone else." He turned and walked back to the castle. The weight of the world seemed to be resting on his shoulders, and he truly appeared old and weary for a brief moment.
The four students remained behind long enough to say their final farewells. There were definitely tears in Sprout's eyes, as much as she tried to force them back, and Sinistra was openly crying. Eventually the Assembly turned their backs on the teachers who were not going to Lupin's, and were in Hogsmeade half an hour later, along with Sirius, Lupin, McGonagall and Snape. They met Dumbledore there.
A few pops later, they were at Lupin's, in his kitchen. It overlooked a reasonable-sized, slightly wild-looking garden. Lupin explained the sleeping arrangements. Dumbledore, Snape and McGonagall were to have their own rooms; Sirius and Lupin were to share a room; Hermione and Hannah were to share a room; and Harry and Draco were to share the attic room.
That explained, Lupin made hot drinks and then Dumbledore ordered them off to bed – adults included, much to the amusement of the younger four. They were undeniably tired, however, and did not dare argue. Three of them fell asleep almost before their heads had hit the pillow, but Hannah remained awake for a considerable length of time, doubting her worthiness in this. She was, after all, only a Hufflepuff, one of the 'duffers' that the rest of the school viewed them as. What if she failed? What if she let the others down? What if people died because of her?
She voiced these fears and anxieties to Dumbledore when he checked on her and Hermione.
"Poppycock, Miss Abbott. If you were not worthy, Helga Hufflepuff's sword would not have taken to you in the way it has done. You trust me, do you not?"
Puzzled, Hannah nodded, and the Headmaster continued. "Then trust me when I say that you are indeed worthy." He stood up, slipping silently out of the room. Hannah, somewhat comforted, soon fell into a deep and restful sleep.
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"Up! Now!"
"Wha?" from an only-slightly-awake Harry.
"What's happened?" Draco was already up and getting out of bed. "Lumos." He glanced at his watch, squinting at it in the light of his wand. "Sirius, it's five-thirty in the morning!" He glared at his cousin; in his haste, he was already half-dressed.
Sirius tapped the window – the boys, up in the attic room, had an excellent view. "Look."
The two boys went over to the window, Harry stumbling over the shoes he had discarded the previous night.
"Isolated farmhouse, although Remus tells me that the old bloke that lives there was never a farmer. Very odd man, by all accounts."
Both boys felt their blood run cold at the sight that greeted their eyes. There was the unmistakable sight of the Dark Mark hanging menacingly over where there had once been a building.
"Remus is waking the girls. Grab some toast from the kitchen."
"Wait a moment; what's going on?" asked a still-sleepy, bewildered Harry, running a hand through his messy black hair in an attempt to flatten it slightly. He didn't want Hermione to see him wearing the just-got-up look.
"We're going over there to investigate," was Sirius' brisk response as he left the room.
Ten minutes later they were all dressed and had Apparated to the scene of the incident, the Dark Mark looming mockingly above them. The farmhouse itself was no longer; it had been reduced to a mere heap of stone and rubble.
"I – I think we've found the victim," said Hermione shakily, pointing to a crushed, bloody foot sticking out from under a pile of rubble.
Sirius and Lupin silently cleared away some of the stone. "No family," said Lupin softly, sadly. "Nobody to mourn him or to notice that he no longer exists." He and Sirius continued shifting away the rubble with the help of Harry and the girls. Draco wandered off to the other end of the remains of the building, knowing that he would be more a hindrance than a help. He idly kicked at a few loose stones – and then froze.
The stones he had kicked away had revealed a hand.
A hand clutching a wand.
Feeling slightly sick, Draco crouched down and, hand shaking, placed his first two fingers over the pale wrist.
Nothing. Hands trembling now, he slowly cleared away the stones to reveal more of the body. The arm was covered by black robes, and as he worked on the clearing, the torso and face were revealed. The face was covered by a mask.
A Death Eater mask.
Draco shivered, though the early morning air was far from chilly. He suddenly did not want to remove the mask, to identify the dead Death Eater, but he knew that he had to – the others were involved in removing the rubble from the old man.
"Marcus Flint," he said aloud, voice shaking.
Lupin looked up at the sound of his voice and came over to him. "Draco?"
"Marcus Flint," replied Draco, indicating the man's form. "He's dead."
"The Aurors will be here soon. We'll leave it to them. Come on. Let's rejoin the others. There's nothing more we can do except leave a note or something to tell the Ministry that we were here. No doubt they'll want to talk to us."
Draco nodded and allowed himself to be led away. He had mixed feelings about the discovery – he had known Flint a long time and they had been on the Slytherin Quidditch team together, yet he despised the other now and in some way was relieved that he was gone. He was relieved when they returned to Lupin's; he was already tired from the early morning excursion.
"Back to bed if you want," Lupin said. "Nobody else is up yet. Draco, you look worn out."
Harry and Draco both took up this advice and promptly returned to bed. The girls, now they were awake, decided to stay up, so Lupin made hot chocolate for everyone sitting around the kitchen table.
"I – I – I've never seen a dead body before," confessed Hannah, blinking back tears and gratefully accepting the steaming mug from Lupin that had melting marshmallows on the top.
"You never really get used to it, from what I can gather," Lupin told her, sitting down at the table. "Even if it is an enemy. Though I confess that I wouldn't mind seeing Lucius Malfoy dead. Nastiest Slytherin around while I was at school, marries the very attractive – and very rich – Narcissa Black, ensures that he has a son to carry on his line, and then proceeds to cause that poor child of his all sorts of torment."
"And he's as evil as hell," put in Sirius.
"If not more so," added Hermione grimly, pushing her hair back from her face. "The trouble is, a simple Avada Kedavra is too good for him."
"Too right!" Hannah vehemently concurred. "A nice long period of Cruciatus so he gets just the faintest notion of the pain he inflicted on Draco, interspersed by the most painful hexes and curses, legal and illegal, that any one individual can inflict on him!" Her voice had risen as she spoke and her normally serene blue eyes were blazing. "That man is going to pay!" She jumped to her feet, her chair falling back and clattering to the floor.
Everyone else around the table was rather taken aback by this outburst – Hannah had never lost her temper before. She had the reputation of being the calmest, most sweet-tempered person in the school. After a few moments, she realised what she had just done and, face pink from embarrassment, hastily righted her chair and sat down again. "Sorry," she apologised. "But I loathe that man with every molecule of my being. Could we have breakfast now, by any chance?"
"Only if you help get it ready," answered Lupin, getting to his feet. "I'll see if any of the others want anything."
"I'll handle Snape," said Sirius immediately.
"I don't think –"
"No need for that," said a cold voice from the doorway. "And I believe, Black, that I also have a first name."
"One that's two syllables longer than your surname!" retorted Sirius.
"As is yours, yet people still call you by your first name."
Sirius could think of no witty response, so he resorted to sticking his tongue out at Snape. Hermione exchanged exasperated looks with Hannah. Snape rolled his eyes wearily. "Will you never grow up, Black?"
Sirius opened his mouth to defend himself, but McGonagall walked in at that moment. "Am I down to do the cooked breakfast?"
"If you're offering," said Sirius agreeably.
"Then allow me to teach you to, Mr. Black. Come on."
Everyone watched with great interest as Sirius attempted to follow the Deputy Head's instructions. During this time, Harry and Draco came downstairs to join the rest. Fortunately, there were no major mishaps, apart from some scrambled egg that ended up on the floor. That was quickly dispersed by a flick of McGonagall's wand.
An owl soared into the kitchen at that point and landed on McGonagall's shoulder. She took the letter from it and opened it. Her shoulders fell. "My sister is to be involved in the fighting on the front line," she announced.
"She'll be fine," said Hermione reassuringly. "You have to believe that."
"Hopefully it'll be the Death Eaters that go," said Harry.
"What happened this morning?" asked Dumbledore sharply.
Lupin briefly explained what had happened. As he finished, another owl appeared, this time for Dumbledore. It remained only long enough to take some of Harry's bacon. Dumbledore opened the letter and read it carefully, his face growing more and more grave. "We have today to prepare for the battle. Tonight is to be the final showdown."
A grim silence descended on the room as they all absorbed this news.
"May I suggest a day of rest in preparation for tonight?" said McGonagall, looking pointedly at Draco. He was unaware of this, however; he was engrossed in that morning's edition of The Times, attempting to grasp the rules of cricket. He was failing miserably and made a mental note to ask Harry or Hermione later.
"I'm going to read," announced Hermione, standing up and taking her empty plate over to the sink.
"Such a surprise," Draco drawled teasingly. Before this year this would have provoked either Harry or Hermione into taking a violent swing at him – Hermione had done so emphatically in their third year – but that was in the past. Now she merely stuck her tongue out at him. He responded likewise and he picked up his glass of apple juice, holding it threateningly above her head, tilting it dangerously, a wicked grin on his thin, ashen face.
"Don't you dare!" she shrieked, ducking away from him, wand aimed at him. "I can deflect it back into your face, you know!"
"You're no fun, Granger."
Hermione shrugged and left the room, smirking. Draco went up to his room to get some more sleep. Harry and Hannah played chess at the kitchen table. Neither was able to concentrate on the game, however, and Harry was defeated in about fifteen minutes. The rest of the day was spent making final preparations, such as McGonagall preparing enough food for ten armies, just hanging around or sleeping, until about seven that evening, when Dumbledore announced that it was time to leave.
The four students exchanged scared looks. There was a tight knot in Harry's stomach. Draco was visibly trembling. Hermione was extremely tense. Hannah felt physically sick and absolutely terrified.
"Ready?" asked Dumbledore seriously. At the nods of confirmation he received from everyone, he smiled grimly. "Then we Apparate."
A few moments later, they were standing on the edge of a thicket of trees and were met by Arthur Weasley. He was grim and weary. "There are Death Eaters here already, and there are more on the way," he told them. There are some security precautions that we've taken, so we're immediately made aware of any new presences –"
He paused as a pop was heard nearby and a dark, hooded figure hurried by, apparently oblivious to their presence. The gathered crowd were silent, holding their breath until it was safe to release it. They withdrew into the trees as more dark figures slipped by. Following a signal from Snape, they followed the hooded figures. Harry and Draco exchanged looks. It did not need to be said that the cloaked figures were Death Eaters.
Harry wondered who they were. Rosier, Macnair, perhaps the Lestranges… How many were those that had been recruited since Voldemort's resurrection? Was Lucius Malfoy one of the Death Eaters that had just hurried by? Draco was clearly thinking along the same lines, if the expression on his face was anything to go by. The older boy was tense, pale, his face set, lips pressed tightly together, wand gripped tightly in his right hand (he found it easier to hold it in his right hand when he had his sword, on which Snape had placed a featherweight charm), left hand lightly placed around his sword. He was ready for battle.
"We should advance now," said Dumbledore quietly.
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TBC
Responses to chapter 24
It really is about time Sirius and Severus grew up – they are 37, after all! I did say before that it's not just the Assembly who reach maturity, so there may be hope for them yet. On the other hand, they may not!
I contemplated changing the grading system to the one JKR uses, but in the end I was lazy and just really couldn't be bothered. So I didn't.
I've got the whole 32 chapters typed up on my computer; they're just waiting to be posted. I finished typing them up ages ago; I think round about when I was posting the very early chapters. However, I knew when I first started posting that I would have placements coming up and that in all likelihood I'd have to live away during the week (I always come back to Lancaster at weekends) so I got into a habit of posting once a week. At the moment I'm on placement and because I have no Internet access in the week, I can only post at weekends. I'm halfway through placement now. Everyone is COMPLETELY MAD but lovely with it and I can feel that I'm developing and improving.
I'm not telling you whether I'm going to kill off any of the good guys – although those of you who know me well can probably guess whether or not I will!
I'm in the process if writing both Lupin's 18th, which I hope will be an amusing read, and the details about the Founders' Assembly – which is no longer a one-shot! It'll be 2 or 3 chapters.
