I'm now entering what I think is the Great Hall. The grass underneath my feet grows clumpy and muddy; a horrible murky green tinge inhabits the nature of this place. It's just a wreck. I remember when it was much more. My feet stumble over the stones and broken branches. Nature lays scattered all over the aftermath but the wind hasn't yet swept all the memories away. I am sure this is Hogwarts. Yes, I see it now. The way the half demolished walls are shaped, how they are set out. I am no architect but I have the memory of being a student here, when this Hall was a place of absolute wonder. Twelve years it has been since I last walked down this long length to the top table. Now all that is left is the skeleton. Just the essence. I stop. Inhale the memory. And begin to walk again.
No use listening to emotions now, I learnt the hard way not to do that. If I hadn't listened to my fear I would never have left my friends alone, all that time ago. I remember once being classed as brave. They needed me and I didn't even realise it. I brush my defiant hair away from my face; pretend that the tears on my cheeks are just caused by the wind. I know I must search for the one who remains here. The one I came to find. I left my husband and my children to come here. They told me not to come but I felt this was the least I could do after my betrayal. I owe this to him.
I see him where I knew I would. He is sitting on the far end of the long lawn that stretches to a vast lake. The lake still remains, it floods onto the banks like it used to. I don't sense any life in it though. It used to sparkle every once in a while, throughout the day, with the presence of some magical being. I know that most of them are probably dead. No use dwelling on it; I will get back to the matter at hand. The figure crouches, his chin nesting on his knees and his overgrown beard covering all his rosy face. I concentrate on these strange features, the dark long cloak, the disorderly hair, the grubby hands. I concentrate on anything but his eyes. But he turns to me sharply and without warning they pierce me. They light up fiercely with resentment. I look away for a second and when I turn back it isn't his eyes I see. It's his scar. I remember the first time I saw that scar, the gossip and speculation that rose from it. Everyone knew it was the mark of victory against his mortal enemy. Our mortal enemy. What we didn't know was that Harry had won one battle but would be defeated in the war. I look at it now through tears.
But then he smiles. The breath heaves out my body and I realise that I had stopped living for a few seconds beforehand. I am okay now. He does forgive me, I didn't leave my family for nothing. I get straight to the point, "Harry, I am sorry for your great loss. How are you coping?"
He doesn't respond well.
I try again, "Harry. I came to fetch you. Some of the Order's relatives are still alive and remain faithful to you. They say they will protect you from You-Know-Who."
I remember when we used to not mention that demon's name because we were told to fear him. Now we all do fear him.
Harry twitches, "You are lying. They're all gone and if they still dare to be in the country then they will not risk their lives by being seen with me and neither should you."
"Harry you must beli…."
"Stop calling me that name. You say it loud enough for them to hear you."
I shudder, he is right. The Death Eaters are scanning the whole country for Harry and any communication he gives could be tracked by one dark being or another. I have to praise him for coming to this historical and sacred ground that once was Hogwarts, not much magic remains, but enough to cloak him from evil.
"You didn't give up on your own life. I respect you for that. Such intelligence you have to recognise when it is too dangerous and when it is the best time to surrender and retreat. I should have listened to you more. I should have given up sooner before too many of us were killed." He says as he throws stones into the lake; they plop in with a sludgy sound of defeat.
"Your job was to protect the Muggles and you did. Nobody expected any more of you than what you actually accomplished."
Harry stands up in a rage, I manage to see just how untamed he now is. Nothing about him is the sophisticated young man I lost touch with ten years ago.
"I failed. And Voldemort has destroyed the good magic forever because – of – me. Because of my mistakes. Because I thought I was right. Because I wouldn't listen to my friends when they were telling me the truth."
I fall over in shock; the name alone brings pain into my muscles.
"I wish I had been there. I am so sorry."
I kneel on my knees, my skirt being soaked by the muddy rain. I look pathetic; nobody is more pathetic than me. Harry knows this, his eyes look delighted with my suffering. Someone else is suffering but him. Years of isolation, hiding, being on the run must have done this to him. I bring myself to stand up again. Throw my hair far away from my face once again. I look at him with all the bravery I can muster.
"Look what you have become!" I challenge him, standing with my feet firmly on the ground now.
He stares at me through squinted green eyes; I see rings of bruise and tiresome around them. He must have lost his glasses somewhere or taken them off because he can be easily identified by them.
"Why don't you just go back home to your family?" he utters bitterly.
I feel the memory flooding back, how I left the Order of the Phoenix when I was pregnant. My maternal instincts were telling me to protect the baby by keeping clear any type of confrontation or violence. There was plenty of violence, the dark side had killed half of the Order, others were being captured and heaven knows what happened to their poor souls. I knew if I stayed I would soon become their next target. I did what was best for my own survival, not the survival of my friends. My eyes blur. I wipe them and get brought back to where I am. I remember that I have now left my family; I am here for one purpose and that is to help Harry. I move towards him, put my white cold hand onto the rough material of his robe.
I try to comfort him with these words, "The situation we are in is very dark but I still have faith in you and so does the remains of the Order. Come home. It is not too late…"
