Harry's stomach clenched and his heart dropped as he began to feel dizzy.
"Lupin?" he asked, grabbing his scar as it gave a painful stab. He walked over to Ron and saw Lupin, spread-eagle with his eyes and mouth wide open.
Harry, dropping his wand and the memory, fell to his knees beside him.
"Remus," Harry whispered, feeling tears course down his face. He didn't try to stop them now.
"Harry," Ron said as Harry looked at him. Ron, too, was crying, "Harry why does everyone we know die?" he asked.
Harry shook his head, "I don't know. I don't know anymore. This is why I broke up with Ginny and this is why I don't want anybody coming with me to find the horcruxes or to fight Voldemort. I…don't…want…you and or Hermione…with me," he said, suddenly sounding threatening.
Ron was wide-eyed and backing away from Harry.
"Go back to the house and write Dum…" his stomach plummeted, "I…I mean McGonagall. It's possible that Lupin was the only one notified…"
"The only one notified?" Ron exclaimed, "If he had known about it, he would have told other members."
Harry thought a moment, "Yeah, but wouldn't they have cleared this all up by now and have gone to the Dursleys?"
It was Ron's turn to think, "Yeah, but…"
"Then none of the Order was with him," Harry concluded, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.
Ron was silent.
"Go and write McGonagall that letter," he said, feeling for a pulse from Lupin, just incase.
"Right, okay. Hedwig or Pig?" he asked.
"Pig, he's faster. Hedwig won't be too happy, but you can give her extra treats or something."
"Yeah, alright," he said, turning away, "You'll be alright, Harry?" he asked.
"Yeah, I'll be fine; hurry," he said, realizing there was no pulse.
What point is there to living? he asked himself.
His parents, Sirius, Dumbledore, Cedric and now Lupin were all dead and it was his, Harry's, fault.
Harry stood up. He'd have to leave that night and leave a note to Ron telling him that he and Hermione had to return to school. He couldn't risk loving anyone else for fear of Voldemort killing them. His friendship with everyone had to be severed.
He walked out of the room, through the kitchen (Picking his wand up), through the living room and out of Mrs. Figg's house.
Once back in the Dursleys drive way he wrenched open the trunk of their car and grabbed his school trunk. He wasn't going to leave tonight.
He was going to leave now.
Without any consideration of his apparition license, he tightly gripped his trunk and wand and concentrated hard on the Three Broomsticks, felt the strong urge to go there and suddenly felt as if he were being shoved down a tube with the circumference of one centimeter. Just as suddenly the feeling was gone and he was standing at the door of the Three Broom Sticks. Remembering that Madam Rosemerta was under the Imperius Curse, he hurried around the corner until he heard her go back inside.
He hurried down the deserted road until he came to the Hogwarts Gates, which were padlocked shut, or so it appeared.
Harry's heart dropped; he had forgotten about these locks therefore he had not anticipated them.
He dropped his trunk and determinedly raised his wand and muttered, "Aloh Hammorah," but nothing happened.
He wondered why he had expected it to work when, just under a year ago, he had witnessed Tonks try that same spell on the same lock when it failed.
Luckily, just as he had paced by the gate for a third time the castle doors burst open and a green-clad someone with a pointed hat came running toward him.
Harry raised his wand, ready to strike incase it was someone unpleasant.
"Potter? Potter!" yelled the familiar voice of Professor McGonagall.
"Oh, hello professor, I wasn't sure if anybody was still here," he said as she flicked her want. The gates opened obediently.
"What are you doing here! You are supposed to be at your aunt and uncle's, young man!" she scolded, quickly closing the gates behind him.
"Yes, well, I feel I've rather overstayed my welcome," he explained, "I came here first because I thought you'd be here," he said as they walked back up to the castle.
"You're quite right," she said, "I wouldn't have been here otherwise if…if…"
"If Dumbledore were still headmaster," Harry quietly finished for her.
"Oh, I don't know what to do!" she cried, tears spilling down her cheeks.
Harry was taken aback but nevertheless comforted her until they had gotten to Dumbledore's former office.
He'd thought for sure she would have it fixed her own way now, but everything was as it had been two days ago.
As if reading his mind she said, "Haven't…not much time, you know, with the Order and all."
Harry nodded, a sinking feeling in his stomach.
"I'm sorry," she apologized, "Where were we?"
"I…I need two things," he stuttered, startled by the sudden change of mood, "I need to know whether…whether the attack on Abriella Figg's house was known by the Order?" he asked.
"Abriella's house? Attacked?" she asked, looking quite surprised, "I've heard of no such thing! Was it Death Eaters?"
Harry nodded.
"And she's…?"
Harry again nodded.
McGonagall collapsed in her chair looking stricken, "And to think…it was so near your own home…"
"My uncle was driving Ron and I…home…when we saw the Dark Mark."
"Was anyone else in her house?"
"Yes, a Death Eater…" he began, then added with haste seeing the expression on her face, "But he was dead; Avada Kadavra."
"Abriella is…was a Squibb!" she exclaimed.
Harry was silent.
"Was anyone else there, Potter?" she asked.
Harry nodded, his eyes burning as if they'd been doused in hot sauce.
"Who?"
"P…professor Lupin," he said, wondering whether he could still call him, "Professor."
Relief washed over her ever feature, "And I assume he told you to come and get me while he went and alerted the other…members…?" her sentence died off as she caught his escaped tear.
Fear and alarm was etched in every inch of her face, "Oh surely not…not…Harry?" she weakly asked, looking as if she were going to collapse in tears.
He looked away from her, blinking back his own, "Avada Kadavra," he whispered.
Sure enough McGonagall threw her sobbing head upon the desk and cried, "How many more? How many more are you going to take before we give in, Tom!" she bellowed, lifting her read, tearstained face from her desk, then collapsing once more.
Harry awkwardly sat there, his own tears shamelessly staining his face until he heard a familiar voice that made his heart leap so high he thought he'd have a heart attack.
"Am I to understand, Minerva, that Remus has passed on as well?"
Harry frantically looked around for the comforting voice he had so longingly wanted to hear for the past few hours.
"Up here, Harry," it said.
Harry looked up only to find a portrait of Albus Dumbledore.
He smiled at Harry who had begun to cry again.
"Yes yes, gone, all gone!" she exclaimed, "Now why doesn't he finish off the rest of us?"
Harry was frightened; he'd never heard McGonagall lose control like this before.
"Now now, Minerva, that is no attitude to have especially given the times," he said, peering at her over his half-moon spectacles.
"Oh you're right, you're right, what have I been thinking, Albus? What have I been doing?"
"You've been doing exactly what I told you not to be doing. Minerva, I plead with you, don't mourn over me. Not now when the Order is needing you!"
"You're right as usual," she said, sniffling.
"I am not always correct, my dear headmistress."
At these words McGonagall broke down again.
"Sir," Harry said, suddenly thinking of a question he'd been itching to ask.
"Yes, Harry?" asked Dumbledore (for Harry couldn't think of his portrait any other way), his attention focusing on Harry.
"Why did you trust Snape?"
The professor hesitated before answering, "He did, at the time I hired him, seem to be sincerely sorry for what he'd done. Of course, I hadn't seen it then, but he was just among the other Death Eaters who had claimed to be under Voldemort's Imperius Curse," he shook his head, "I should've known…"
Harry looked away, tears burning in his eyes yet again.
"When I find him, I'm going to kill him," Harry angrily told no one in particular.
"In my school days I wouldn't have taken an attitude like that, Minerva," Dippet's portrait said.
"Armando, that's quite enough," Dumbledore's portrait told Dippet's. Dippet quieted at once even though Dumbledore was now only preserved in a portrait.
"Harry," he continued, "I know that I have passed away, but I wish that you go back to your aunt and uncle's house. Even if it's one more day. Promise me, Harry," he said.
"I promise," Harry mumbled, looking to the floor. He had absolutely no intention of going back.
"Harry, look into my eyes."
Harry reluctantly looked into the portrait's eyes and found that his vision had blurred. It wasn't the same as looking into the real Dumbledore's eyes. Not at all the same.
"I promise," he said, then looked away. For one fleeting moment he thought about breaking his promise. He had, after all, only promised a portrait; not the real Dumbledore.
But if I did break the promise, I'd feel just as if I had broken a promise to him three years ago or even just…just three days ago, he reminded himself. He would have to go back to the Dursleys.
"Potter," said McGonagall, very business-like again with no trace of tear on her face, "I will escort you through the Hogwarts grounds and I will apparate us to your home," she said, walking to the staircase. He followed her.
"But, how dyou know…?"
"I've been to your aunt and uncle's house once before, I know exactly where to go."
Once down the stairs, Harry picked up his trunk where he'd left it just beside a stone gargoyle, then stopped, remembering something.
"Professor, may I borrow professor Dumbledore's pensieve?" he asked, trying his hardest to keep his voice from wavering.
McGonagall nodded saying, "Nosebleed Nougat," and he dashed up the stairs to his office.
"Ah, Harry, you've forgotten something?" Dumbledore's portrait asked.
"Yes sir," he muttered, walking over to his cabinet and grabbing his pensieve along with several of the memories Dumbledore had shown him during their private lessons together.
Don't, he told himself, just don't think about him.
Harry turned to leave as he heard Dumbledore's voice yet again, "Harry, did you receive the memory from Abriella?" he asked.
Harry turned to him as the memory of it falling and crashing ran before his eyes, "Yes sir, but I dropped it."
Dumbledore smiled, "No worries, Harry. All you have to do is fix the bottle and the memory should put its self back in."
Harry smiled for the first time in several weeks, "Thank you, sir," he said, then headed down the revolving stair case to McGonagall.
She was standing just outside the Hogwarts gate. As soon as he had passed through, she closed the gates and he tightly grabbed her arm.
Second later they were back at number four, private drive with a loud CRACK!
McGonagall grabbed both of his shoulders, "Harry you must stay here until further notice. Don't run off; that is very important…" she said as a streak of red banged the front door open and ran up to them, "Harry, Pig's not moving! He's just sitting there! I tried throwing him out the window but he just comes back in. I don't know what to do, Harry, I'm really really sorry…"
"Mr. Weasley!" McGonagall sternly said for the third time.
He looked at her as if seeing her for the first time ever, "Professor," he said, I tried to send an owl to you but…"
"How long ago, Mr. Weasley?" she interrupted.
He thought a moment, "Just a minute ago," he answered.
She nodded, "Your owl wouldn't leave because I was apparating from Hogwarts with Mr. Potter," she said, walking up to the house.
Ron stared, open mouthed, at Harry, "You went to Hogwarts while I was in your house?" he asked as they followed McGonagall.
Harry simply nodded as he walked through the front door.
"But…but how'd you get there and back so quick?" he asked, unfazed as he walked into Dudley who squealed and tried to run back up the stairs as quickly as he could, which wasn't quick at all.
"I apparated," he simply answered.
Ron looked at him in awe, "Without your license?" he asked.
Harry nodded.
"That's bloody brilliant, Harry! And to think you're not even in trouble with the ministry yet!"
Harry frowned as he watched McGonagall talking to his aunt and uncle, "I think they have more important things to worry about, Ron, than who's apparating illegally."
"Yeah, I suppose you're right," he answered, also looking at McGonagall.
"He is, under no circumstances, aloud to leave the premises of this house until further notice. I don't care if you have to bolt the door closed and board up windows…keep him in this house."
Harry closed his eyes and concentrated hard on the space just in front of McGonagall.
CRACK!
There were three loud screams and Harry saw McGonagall's hat topple off her head as Ron muttered, "Brilliant!"
"Mr. Potter, what do you think you are doing?" she asked straightening her hat.
"They can't stop me from doing that," he calmly explained to her.
"No, but I assure you, this spell can!" she said, flicking her wand.
Harry knew better than to apparate under this spell, so he walked back to Ron.
"So…so we have to stay in the house until she sends an owl?" he asked, looking rather pale.
Harry nodded, "Yeah."
McGonagall stepped by him and to the front door, "Remember Mr. Potter, and you too, Mr. Weasley," she said, looking at them in turn, "That I and the Order are tying to keep you safe. You heard the rules; please obey them for once."
"Yes maam," both Harry and Ron said.
"Oh, and Potter," she said, stepping through the door, "Thank you."
Harry gave Ron a questioning glance but he only shrugged, "Excuse me, professor, but for what?" he asked as she turned back to him.
"For your visitation," she said, a single tear sliding down her cheek.
With that she walked down the garden path and across the street.
