You know that dream where you're holding someone, then they simply disappear?
That's how it was for me. My whole life, everything. It was when I realized that I'd reached forty, and I was still running. Sometimes it takes a shattering event to make you realize what you have and what you don't, what you had and what you lost. I never thought that it would take the War of the Wizards to wake me up.
I was hiding in a hole in the ground that night, silently; waiting by myself for fear of discovery. I remember I had carved a makeshift birthday cake for myself in the dirt wall of my hiding place. There were too many candles to fit on the top. And even then did I not know quite what I was missing.
There were people moving in the forest on the ground above my head, their footsteps muffled by the thick layer of earth. They were my enemies, so I stayed quiet - and hidden. If I dared to move at all, it would mean my certain death. Hopefully, they did not know that I was there, surely because if they had then I would not have lived to tell it.
It had only been a year since Voldemort had regained full power. The Deatheaters had scattered the Ministry and broken into Azkaban, freeing the remaining few who survived and claiming them for their lord. At all hours, Voldemort's minions roamed unchecked. There were battles in the streets, bloody battles; and many deaths on both sides. It was like the end of the world.
And I was hiding.
Not because I was cowardly. I would rather die than be called a coward; no, I had a mission. Days ago I had received a letter from the Order, summoning me back to the house of my mother for a meeting of sorts. Apparently my rogue godson Harry had acheived ordination as an Auror, and would be joining the Order Counsel officially for the first time. He was only nineteen.
I had to be there, to see him. To see everyone, and to know that they were safe. My heart trembled for them rather than for myself. I had been a fugitive all of my life, and 'disappearing' was second nature to me, but most of those in the Order had no experience of the sort. It would be a relief for me to stand with them and put my anxiety to rest that they all were there. Already, many of our set had suffered.
I had heard through a source that Harry's friend, Hermione, was doing spywork for the Order, and that she was spectacularly good at it. Already she had tracked down and had captured several Deatheaters through her work. That news had made me smile. I had told her before - if I can remember correctly - in her third year at school, after she and Harry had saved me from The Dementor's Kiss ... that she was the brightest witch of her age.
My mind lifted merely by thinking of them all. I longed to see them.
The footsteps around me had died. I moved silently to the entrance of my cave, hidden from view by an overgrowth of ivy and nettles, and the steely midnight blue light that flooded in told me that it was nightfall.
From what I could tell, there was no one around.
I crawled back into my cave and huddled up next to one of its sodden walls. Soon it would be time to leave. I would make the trek back to Grimmauld Place on foot, making my journey under cover of darkness to avoid the Deatheaters' notice. There would be no moon tonight, making tonight perfect for travel.
But for now, I would wait.
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A/N: Yes; I am (sort of) bearing in mind the plotline of The Half-Blood Prince. The 2nd chapter will be more meaty, I promise.
