Chapter Four
Poetic Goodbye
Ember lay abed in the Hospital Wing, her eyes glittering oddly, her cheeks flushed with fever. She moaned and called out quietly for Severus Snape, and Harry's blood went cold. Dumbledore's portrait had mentioned she was pregnant. Surely he couldn't mean pregnant with Snape's child.
"Are you sure, dear? You might be wasting your time." Madame Pomfrey was watching from where she sat doing last minute paperwork for the school's files.
"I'm sure. Are you Ember?" He asked the copper-haired woman lying half-delirious in the hospital bed. He hovered just outside her peripheral vision, and she didn't have the strength to turn her head to the side. She murmured, her voice cracking slightly, "I am. Who are you?"
"Harry Potter."
"Ah."
"I'm a friend of Ophelia's." At the sound of the girl's name, Ember's eyes cleared a little, burning with a gentle, blue fire, and her cheeks paled from her feverish flush. Harry stared at the young woman hard, her copper hair like liquid flame, her ivory voice devoid of the freckles so common with red hair, her slender jaw, her limp body, and her rather flat stomach.
"Are you really pregnant?"
"Yes."
"How pregnant?"
"Seven weeks."
"When will it be born?"
"March, on the Equinox. Why are you so curious?"
"Because it's Snape's baby, isn't it?"
"And just how do you know that, young Potter?"
"I can add two and two."
"So can the Ministry, Harry," she whispered, her voice weak, but Harry heard the trace of fear in it. He blinked, crying, "What do you mean?"
"If it becomes common knowledge to any besides Hogwarts staff who fathered my baby, the Ministry will use me as bait for him." Harry almost said, "Good, I hope they do," then thought of Umbridge and Scrimgouer, who seemed to have no scruples and wouldn't hesitate to throw a pregnant woman into Azkaban. Ember had done Harry no harm. Her baby had certainly done no harm to anyone.
"I have reasons to see Snape caught," he said carefully. Ember turned her eyes on Harry again, and they were a brilliant gold.
"No you don't, as soon as you check Omniscient-Gamma-five-oh-one-one-six-Baudelaire and the rest of the Baudelaire Five-Oh file."
"H-how do you know about that?"
"I work for Dumbledore. Have for years. He trusts me."
"He trusted Snape, too."
"With good reason, as you'll soon discover."
"I know why Dumbledore thought Snape was his man-" Ember interrupted with, "Pray forgive my rudeness, but no you don't. You think you do, but remorse over your parents' deaths is not the reason. I know the reason, Snape knows the reason, and Dumbledore knows the reason. Soon you will, too. Read the damn file before you pass anymore judgment. I'd say on the train, but Blaise and the other baby Death Eaters are there. So too may be Rita Skeeter, and this I do not want published. So wait until you have gone to the… no… no, I've a better idea.
"Ophelia will be waiting for you when you return home. Take the two youngest Weasleys and your DA friends, and look through the file at your home. Voldemorte cannot reach you there until you have turned seventeen. That gives you a month and a few days. I will send you anything that may prove useful. Will you take my advice?"
Harry thought about it for a minute, then nodded. "Yes. If I can. Any help you have to give would be great."
"I'd speak more to you, but I'm very tired. I'll see you soon, no doubt. Good bye, Harry Potter."
"Good b- oh! Professor Dumbledore's portrait told me to give this to you." He handed her a piece of parchment, which read:
Introduction 47L
To Helen at Six
Israfel and the Answer to Everything
To One in Paradise, 12 and 29
The Bell rings at 3:22
Ode to the Daughter of the Time on Friday 13th
Introduction 18L
Upon those crystalline, celestial spheres
See Helen Whitman at Lousy Lane
When Ember saw it, her eyes filled up with tears. "What is it?" Harry cried, shocked. She wiped her hand across her eyes and whispered, "Severus's goodbye."
"I don't understand."
"Dumbledore knew to give this to me if something ever happened to Severus."
"What does it mean?"
"It means
Introduction, line forty-seven-
Gone are the glory and the gloom
To Helen, line six-
On desperate seas long wont to roam
Israfel, line forty-two-
Our flowers are merely flowers and the shadows of thy perfect bliss
To One in Paradise, line twelve-
(Dim gulf!) My spirit hovering lies
And line twenty-nine-
By the buried centuries of pomp and power
The Bells, part three, line twenty-two-
Yet the ear, it fully knows
Sonnet to Science, line thirteen-
Elfin from the green, green grass, and from me
Introduction, line eighteen-
Light on the lightning's silver wing
To Helen-
Upon those crystalline spheres
To Helen Whitman, the last line-
Venuses extinguished by the sun.
"It makes an acrostic, spelling 'goodbye, luv.' Severus loves poetry, especially Edgar Allen Poe. Now, Harry, the train leaves in ten minutes. Better get going." As he reached the door, his mind buzzing, she called, "Harry? Thank you for giving me this message. Thank you so much."
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Next Chapter
Night had begun to fall, and many of the DA had fallen asleep when Echo crawled between Susan and Parvati to join Harry and his four closest friends.
"Harry? I have a specialty." Her voice was very soft, so soft that Harry had to lean in to hear her. "I'm good at Dark Magic." Her face was chalk white as she told him, and she trembled as if she were cold. "I'm good at creating offensive spells. I don't mean innocent things, like Jelly Legs or the Body Bind. I mean, things like… like… like sectumsempra. I can come up with… something like that. If you want me to."
Harry stared at the youngest Malfoy, the fairest girl he had ever seen. She was only eleven years old, yet she had a talent he could use. It was also something that might make Harry not trust her. Ginny spoke for her, Hannah Abbot and Luna spoke for her, but still… could he trust her? Would it be too much of a temptation for a Malfoy?
"Can I trust you?" Harry asked. There were tears in Echo's eyes, but she nodded, crying, "I want to help. I… Dumbledore was nice to me, even when no one else was 'cause I was a Malfoy. And Voldemort… Voldemort made my Mummy cry, and Draco. I love Draco, Harry, and Voldemorte hurt him. He gave my brother the Dark Mark and made him cry. He's gotta pay for that. He's ruined my family, and he had Dumbledore killed. I wanna help make him pay." Harry nodded. Good enough.
"Then I trust you with this," and he told her what he wanted of her.
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Read and review, please. It would make my day. Is the story really that bad?