DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Harry waited outside the door to the Headmaster's office, as Dumbledore talked to Kingsley Shacklebolt and Celeste Warrenton. He tried to be patient, but the waiting was torture. He needed to know why she'd been attacked. Was Claire in danger? Had she happened across some hiding place? Did she overhear something? There must be some reason why she'd been killed.
But there was nothing to be done about it. He couldn't even hear anything that was being said, and he didn't doubt that Dumbledore had made sure he couldn't. Why was he even here, if he couldn't hear the same answers everyone else got? Harry wondered where Claire was, and what she might be doing. He hoped that Ginny would be with her. She shouldn't be alone.
The door to Dumbledore's office opened and Kingsley Shacklebolt motioned for Harry to join them. He quickly jumped up the last stairs and walked into the room. There were more people than he'd realized. Dumbledore, Kingsley and Celeste were there, but so were Professor Flitwick, a number of Aurors, and to Harry's surprise, Nearly Headless Nick.
"Come in, Harry, sit down," offered Dumbledore. He looked slightly angry.
Harry walked over to an empty chair, and sat down. Celeste was standing on the other side of the room, passing her hand through the back of another chair. She looked up and her eyes locked on Harry's with a sorrow he couldn't stand to see.
"She was attacked in the courtyard, we believe," Dumbledore began, "by someone in dark robes."
"A Death Eater," Harry commented.
"Not everyone who wears dark robes is a Death Eater, Harry," Kingsley countered.
"She said that she left her common room before the party to help a friend with their costume. She needed to go to the greenhouses to find one of the flowers. After a quick stop at the library for a book on the plant, she left the castle," continued Dumbledore. "One of the Aurors claims to have seen a ghost outside the front door just before Miss Warrenton walked into the Great Hall. It seems most likely that she was attacked while walking back to the greenhouses."
Harry sat and simply listened as various people added other bits of information. Celeste simply stood and silently listened as if she were listening to a story about someone else. It seemed that she didn't know much more than Harry did.
The Aurors were still searching for her body and this seemed to trouble her. It worried Harry, too. Why couldn't they find it? When they did, would there be a lightning bolt scar on it like Justin and Crabbe? Harry couldn't imagine why anyone would have attacked her because of him. He'd met her only once, and never spent much time talking to her.
"Do you remember anything else about the person who attacked you?" Kingsley asked. "Did he come from behind you, or did he come from the castle?"
Celeste said nothing for a moment, the slowly started to try and explain what she remembered. It was apparent that she didn't remember much. "I don't know where he came from. I was looking for something, and he just... appeared, right in front of me. He was very angry."
Her explanation was slow and halting, as if she were trying to remember a dream. It was nearly impossible to understand what had happened. The only consistent detail she gave was just how angry the wizard was.
"You said he gave you a message," Dumbledore prompted her.
"He told me I had to tell her... I had to tell Claire that she was the last. She's in danger. He didn't like her. He said such horrible things."
Dumbledore sat down at his desk, his hands clasped tightly on top of a stack of parchment. "That will be all, Miss Warrenton, you may go."
"Go where?" she asked, clearly close to crying. "Where am I supposed to go? What do I do?"
"You may go wherever you wish," the Headmaster answered.
"I want to go where everyone else goes," she sobbed. "I don't want to stay here and have them come up with horrible names for me. What will they call me? Sobbing Celeste? Whining Warrenton?"
Dumbledore frowned. "Sir Nicholas, if you would—"
"Right, then," Nick said tenderly. "We'll be off. Come along, Miss Warrenton, it's really not as bad as it seems at first. And you're not bad off. Why, I remember one bloke who lived to one hundred eighty-seven. Choked to death on a roast pig. Quite a tragedy, really. I heard it was roasted perfectly."
Celeste stared at him, and reluctantly walked over to follow him. Nick smiled brightly. He rested a hand on her shoulder and pulled her along.
"The old prune could barely walk. He's still tottering around a castle in Wales, I'd wager. He'd like to leave, but it'd be years before he could get anywhere else," Nick laughed. "There you go, right through the wall. Leads to the kitchen store room. The elves always love visitors."
Celeste slowly walked through the wall, leaving Nick in Dumbledore's office.
"She'll be alright," he said cheerily. "Maybe I'll introduce her to that touchy bint in the bathroom," he added quietly, "Perhaps a friend would finally shut her up."
Once she'd left the discussion turned quite a bit more serious. Harry didn't even catch everything that was said and discussed. The Aurors argued about where she might have been killed. Professor Flitwick had talked for some time about Claire and how she could be kept safe
No one asked why the girl had been attacked. Harry didn't ask either. He already knew. Voldemort knew that Harry was Claire's godfather. He was just finishing the task he'd started at the end of August, and he'd used Celeste to tell Harry and Claire what was coming.
That night, Harry endured another night of restless, nightmare-filled sleep. In his dreams he could see a girl running from Death Eaters. She never escaped. She would run and run until one of them finally tripped her or pushed her or struck her with some curse.
Every time she fell, a wispy shape would rise and scream the same desperate, sorrowful wail that had escaped Celeste's throat that evening.
Just like so many of his dreams before, the same sequence repeated itself over and over again, each time slightly different than the last. At first, it was always Celeste who was being attacked, but then it changed, so that it was Claire who was running for her life. He watched over and over as she fell, only to rise again and stare at him with hate filled eyes.
It was almost too much for Harry to handle, and then the dream changed again. He noticed the switch almost immediately. Instead of watching he was running now, but he was chasing the Death Eaters instead being chased by them. He could hear the distinct sound of a girls shoes running ahead of the firm, heavy chorus of boots hitting stone behind her. He ran after them, knowing he would never catch them, and waiting for the inevitable.
A bright flash of green illuminated the hallway in eerie relief, then died away. The Death Eaters had stopped, and Harry walked up behind them. Suddenly a ghostly shape slipped through them toward Harry.
"No..." he said aloud. "It's just a dream. This isn't happening."
"It's okay, Harry. I believe in you."
Harry backed away from it. It was just a dream. This wasn't real, it wasn't a vision. The ghost, however, didn't seem to care. She advanced on Harry, smiling gently, giving him a piteous look. Her face, her eyes, and even her voice were all Ginny's.
"Don't be upset, Harry. I understand. There are so many of us. You couldn't save us all."
Harry jerked awake, but immediately shut his eyes and pressed his hands to his forehead. He tried to convince himself that it hadn't been a vision. They were just nightmares. He couldn't see any shapes in the darkness of his closed eyes, and his scar didn't hurt or even feel warm.
Still, it had been a deeply troubling dream and he was in no hurry to get out of bed and face the day. Slowly, he decided he should at least try to figure out how early in the morning it was. He rubbed his eyes and stared into the dim light of his shrouded bed, and into the translucent face of Celeste Warrenton.
Harry gasped and jumped back, hitting his head on the headboard. Celeste Warrenton was standing in the middle of the bed, staring at him. When Harry felt his heart start beating again, he opened his eyes again.
"What did I do? Why did this happen to me?" she asked faintly.
"I— I don't know," Harry answered instinctively. He had a guess, but it didn't really make all that much more sense than any other reason.
"You don't? I thought you might understand," she said. "I felt... He's in you both. He was very angry."
"Who is in me?" Harry whispered as he sat up and straighted his pajamas.
"The Dark Lord," Celeste answered in a hollow voice. "He said I couldn't go, that I had to stay. He said he'd kill her if I didn't. I told her. I never wanted to say. I want to leave. Why can't I leave?"
"I don't know," Harry answered as two silvery tears trickled down her face.
Her face was filled with pain and sadness. "I thought... I thought you might understand why. Nick said I shouldn't... I'm sorry. I should go."
Before Harry could say or do anything else, Celeste had walked forward through the wall behind him, leaving him alone in his bed. He lost his desire for breakfast or anything else. Sitting alone in his bed, Harry tried to understand what was happening.
This attack was different than the others. Crabbe and Justin both had scars. Harry had seen both of them attacked. Both of them had angered him in some way. And both of them were still alive. Why had Celeste been killed? Why hadn't the Aurors even found the body yet?
Something didn't feel right about it. It felt different in a way Harry couldn't describe. Had Voldemort changed his tactics again? It only made Harry a little guilty to think that one dead girl was better than any one of the attacks that summer. And yet, it wasn't like anything that Voldemort had done. The summer attacks had all been quite deliberate. Voldemort had wanted Harry to see them, but he hadn't done that this time. Harry sat and thought about it until his head hurt. There were still no answers, but he was certain there was something important he must be missing.
He decided not to go down for breakfast. Hermione had Arithmancy immediately after breakfast every Friday, but there really wasn't any reason why Harry or Ron had to join her every week. She would be fine if only Ron were there.
Harry found his watch and checked the time. Everyone would be leaving for breakfast soon. He told himself that he just didn't want to deal with everyone's questions. In truth, he was more afraid of facing Claire, or simply having to see her. Celeste had been her best friend, and one of the last friends she really had.
The hours passed and Harry stayed in his bed. At some point Seamus and Dean walked in for a moment, and then left immediately. Without anything better to do, Harry sat in the middle of his bed and relaxed, slipping into the empty trance he used to practice Occlumency. It was harder than he had remembered it being for some time. After some unknown length of time, Harry realized that for the first time he actually wanted to know what his visions might tell him.
Had Occlumency kept him from seeing anything from the attack the previous night? Had he missed something while he'd been focusing on Ginny? He tried to think back and remember if he'd even felt the slightest hint of a vision, but there was nothing. There was only the quick flashes of what had to be Voldemort, but Voldemort hadn't been outside Hogwarts. It had to be separate.
Another check of his watch told him that Hermione would be at Arithmancy by then. It wouldn't be long before he would have to get ready for Herbology. Even the thought of a class no longer sounded bearable to him. He wanted to simply spend the weekend in his bed. Maybe if he refused to interact with anyone, no one would be in any danger. Perhaps that was the best course of action. If it wasn't safe away from Hogwarts, maybe they could simply hide him somewhere safe. Hagrid could even have Fluffy to guard him, that way Hermione and Ron would still be able to visit him if they liked.
The door to the room opened suddenly, making Harry jump a little. It closed a second later, and Harry heard footsteps walking across the floor. Neville usually spent Friday mornings in the greenhouses, so it could only be Ron. Harry debated talking to him, or pretending to be asleep or ill.
With a flash of blinding light, the bed curtains were ripped open, but the person standing in the light wasn't Ron, but Hermione.
"Hermione!" he scolded her as he straightened his pajamas. "What are you doing?"
"Waking you up," she replied firmly.
"So you just opened the bed curtains? What if I wasn't dressed?"
Hermione looked away for a moment and stifled a laugh. "I'm sorry," she apologized. She cocked her head to the side, and smiled at him. "How often do you sleep starkers, Harry?"
"That's not the point," Harry argued as he searched for his dressing gown. "You didn't even ask. What if someone else was with you?"
With a tug, Hermione pulled the curtains back even further to reveal a red-faced Ginny who was hiding her eyes behind one of her hands. Harry felt as if he was paralyzed for a moment, then slowly he felt the color rising in his face. Hermione tossed him his dressing gown and he quickly pulled it on. Once he was able to get out of bed, he glared at Hermione who was still fighting a losing battle against her own laughter.
"Oh relax, Harry," she said, finally controlling herself. "Bill wears less than that, and he never put on a dressing gown for breakfast." Harry didn't see how that was at all similar to this situation. It seemed that Hermione did. "After all, Ginny is just a sister to you, remember?"
Harry and Ginny didn't seem to find the same amount of humor in it as Hermione did. Ginny walked off to the window where she sat and stared out the window. Harry turned and glared at Hermione. "So you skived off Arithmancy to make sure I'm awake?"
"Class was canceled," Hermione said in a more serious voice.
"Alright, so you decided to come here to make sure I made it to Herbology? Or were you just hoping to make me horribly embarrassed?"
"Herbology is canceled as well," Ginny announced from the window.
Harry ran his hand through his hair. "So why exactly did you come here? To tell me that it was fine if I slept until lunch? Or are all the classes canceled, and you came to tell me I didn't have to wake up at all?"
Hermione gave Ginny a quick look, but Ginny didn't give any sign that she noticed. "We came to make sure you were alright, Harry. No one had seen you since last night, and well... we wanted to make sure you were alright."
"Ah, well, I suppose I'm alright," Harry said as he sat down on the edge of his bed. "A girl died last night for no reason and I didn't have any idea that anything happened, despite the fact that I seem to be connected to all of the attacks. I have no idea how or why it happened, but she still woke me up to ask me why she died. So, I guess if that's what you mean by 'alright', then, yes, I'm extremely alright."
"We were just worried..."
"Thanks. I'm plenty worried for all of us," Harry said bitterly. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to try and get some sleep before Transfiguration."
Hermione grimaced and spoke up in a meek voice. "Er... Transfiguration is canceled too."
Harry simply nodded. "Right then. All my classes are canceled, and you came by to see if I'd been dragged off by trolls. Thanks, Hermione. Did you do this on your own, or did McGonagall suggest it?"
"Actually it was..." Hermione started, but trailed off. "It was a bunch of us."
Harry was skeptical. If she was worried about him, why didn't she just send Ron? "And McGonagall and Dumbledore had no part in it?"
"Dumbledore hasn't left his office and McGonagall left this morning. That's why Transfiguration is canceled."
Harry felt his jaw drop as he gaped at Hermione. "She left? What are we supposed to do in Transfiguration? How is Dumbledore supposed to find another professor after all this?"
"No, Harry. She left the castle. Professor McGonagall and Vector left to go talk to the girl's parents," she explained. "They're Muggles, so they couldn't really send Flitwick."
"So why is Herbology canceled?"
"The Aurors are searching the area around the greenhouses for evidence of the attack."
Harry slumped in defeat. He knew he wouldn't be going back to sleep. He didn't even really want to. He'd just wanted to not have to worry about any more attacks. "Did they find anything?"
Hermione frowned. "No. Kingsley told us he doesn't even think they're looking in the right place. He said he wanted to talk to you and ask if you'd seen anything."
Harry tried to explain it to them. He hadn't seen or felt anything. He'd only felt the few flashes of images earlier that night, but he hadn't seen anything more, and it probably wasn't even related to the attack. Hermione was obviously disappointed.
"You didn't feel anything else? Were you trying to block everything out?"
"No, I was a little distracted," Harry admitted. Hermione glared at Ginny, who had looked up after Harry's comment.
"Don't start with me," she warned Hermione. "You spent the entire night glancing over at Ron, too."
"Yes, but he wasn't nearly as distracting as you were, was he?" Hermione replied.
Harry took a deep breath. The day was off to a horrible start. He'd barely slept, he'd woken up to a ghost standing in his bed, and now his friends were bickering. More than ever, Harry wanted to stay in his bed and never leave. He already knew it would not be possible. If what Hermione said was true, it would only be a matter of time before the Aurors came looking for him. If he didn't have any classes to attend, he might as well go find them.
He kicked Ginny and Hermione out of the room and found some clothes. After a quick shower, he found Ron and Hermione waiting for him in the common room. They convinced him to come down to lunch, promising that it wouldn't be as bad as he expected it to be.
To his surprise they were right. Ginny was there waiting, and looking more than a little disgruntled. She didn't say or do anything to explain it and before Harry had a chance to ask about it, she was back to her normal self.
None of them talked about what had happened the previous night, and so far as Harry could tell, no one else was. The professors were conspicuously absent, but that seemed only to make the Hall quieter. When they left, no one made any comments. As they walked toward the stairs and Auror stopped them.
Harry reluctantly agreed and let the Auror lead him toward the Trophy Room. As Hermione had warned him, Kingsley Shacklebolt was sitting in a large leather chair, looking more than a little grumpy. However, Hermione hadn't said that Severus Snape was going to be there as well. Snape's lips curled in a silent snarl as Harry approached. Harry felt his shoulders tense in response. He suddenly had a bad feeling.
"What is he doing here?" Harry hissed at Kingsley.
"I believe Severus —Professor Snape— has special... knowledge which may help us understand what has happened."
"I suppose it is hard to find anyone who's killed someone else around here," Harry mumbled. It wasn't quiet enough for Snape to miss it, and Harry saw the anger flashing in his eyes.
"I don't really have time for that discussion, Harry," Kingsley interjected as he conjured a chair for Harry. "I need to know what you saw and felt last night."
Just as he'd done with Ginny and Hermione, he tried to explain that he hadn't had any clues that anything had been happening. The best he could say was that he had the feeling that Voldemort was planning something. Snape snorted and whispered something in Kingsley's ear which seemed to annoy the Auror. He turned back to Harry.
"You're certain? I'm not trying to accuse you of anything. Is there some reason why you can't tell me?" he asked, pressing Harry for an answer.
He should have expected something like this. When he did see things, no one ever believed him, and yet if he saw nothing, everyone complained about him not telling them what he'd seen. He repeated what he'd said earlier: he hadn't seen or felt anything.
Snape bristled at Harry's response. "There hasn't been an attack for over a year that you haven't had some notice of," he snarled. "What are you hiding, Potter? There must be some reason you won't claim the fame you feel you deserve." Snape stepped close to Harry and spoke, slowly though his clenched teeth, "It would be better for you if you told us before I find out."
Harry scowled back at him but said nothing. Kingsley seemed annoyed with both of them. "Severus," he growled, "Would you step out, please?"
"He's a trained Occlumens. He is not to be trusted—"
The Auror cut him off, and pointed sternly to the door. Once Snape had left, Kingsley returned to the original question.
"No. I didn't see anything. And I never left the Great Hall. I spent the entire night with Hermione and Ginny."
Shacklebolt's eyes perked up at the name. "Ginny? Ginny Weasley?"
Harry nodded, and tried to change the subject as quickly as possible. His best guess was that he'd simply become too good at blocking Voldemort from his mind. Of course, that didn't really seem to fit, considering that it had never helped before. Shacklebolt seemed to accept it, though.
He rattled off a number of questions next, and Harry gave prompt responses to each of them: he had only talked to Celeste once or twice, he'd met her through one of Ginny's friends, and he hadn't had any vision since then.
Shacklebolt had been visibly disappointed with the lack of information that Harry had provided. He gave Harry a brief description of their situation. In short, they'd found absolutely nothing. There was no body, no tracks, no witnesses, and no clues at all. They didn't even know when it took place other than sometime between an hour or so before the start of the Mask and the moment she appeared in the Great Hall.
Harry left feeling as encouraged as the Aurors. Snape was still convinced that Harry had been hiding something, even if it had been impossible for him to have had any part in the attack. Harry was certain that he hadn't heard the last from Snape about the attack, but at the moment it wasn't something he was willing to worry about.
Ron, Hermione and Ginny were all waiting for him when he returned to Gryffindor Tower. "I need to talk to the D.A.," he announced quietly as he sat down.
"There's a meeting planned for seven o'clock," Hermione answered promptly.
Harry stood in the center of the Room of Requirements as the last D.A. members took seats in a rough semicircle around him. He'd spent most of the afternoon trying to think of how to explain this. What would happen to the D.A.? What would the Aurors say when they heard what he'd done? He tried to push those thoughts from his head. They all should know. He didn't want to make the same mistake Dumbledore had made with him. After a deep breath, he started.
"There are Death Eaters hiding near Hogwarts." He'd hadn't expected them to bolt from the room, but he was surprised by the silence generated by his announcement. The members might not have been vocal, but he could see the fear and sudden uncertainty in many of their faces. After a pause to let everyone attention drift back to him, he continued.
"The professors and Aurors already know. They don't know how many, but it can't be all that many of them. Probably just a few. No one believes me, but I'm certain they were behind the attacks on Crabbe and Justin."
"And Celeste?" someone called out from the back. Harry glanced at Claire before answering.
"Yeah. Her too." He ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath. "When we started this, all we wanted to do is learn all the things Umbridge wouldn't teach us. When Dumbledore talked to us that first meeting, we were just supposed to help keep watch. It wasn't supposed to be dangerous."
"They're attacking students. This is all a bit more serious than we'd expected, and it will probably get worse. If any of you don't wish to be a part of this anymore, it's fine. You can leave if you like. I... I don't want anyone to get hurt because they didn't know what to expect." No one stood up, and no one made any move for the doorway.
"Enough of that," Ernie commented from where he stood against the far wall. "What are we learning tonight?"
Harry pulled his wand from his pocket. "Shield Charms," he announced.