Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I write this purely for fun. I make absolutely no money off this story. Please don't sue me.
The Savior of the Wizarding World
Chapter 6 – The Loss of Remus and Tonks
"That was a nice speech."
Harry turned around and saw Professor McGonagall walking up behind him. She stopped a few steps away from him and regarded him for a second or two before looking over his shoulder at the people gathered around him.
"If you will excuse us," she said to them, "I require a few moments of Mr. Potter's time."
Harry let out a sigh of relief at those words. Ever since the Commencement had ended nearly a half hour ago he had been mobbed with a constant stream of people who wanted to talk to him, thank him, praise him, shake his hand, offer their sympathies, and so on. Ron and Hermione hadn't done anything to help him. In fact, he had caught them both casting rather amused looks in his direction.
Harry gave a smile of apology to the small group of people all clamoring for his attention and closed the gap to stand next to McGonagall.
"Thank you," he breathed quietly.
She smiled faintly. "A little attention might have been good for you, but everyone has their limits. And you seemed to be nearing yours."
Harry wanted to argue with her about whether or not the attention he had received in the past half hour had been good for him, but decided to just let the matter drop. She had just rescued him, after all.
"I meant what I just said, that really was a nice speech," she said.
Harry shrugged. "To be honest with you, I almost refused the awards. I really wasn't very happy with you for doing that to me, but just as I was thinking about walking off the stage I thought about…" he stopped. "Well, I thought of something I could say that might stop everybody from treating me like…like…" he trailed off, looking for the right words.
"Like what, Mr. Potter?"
"I don't know. Like I'm a bloody god or something."
McGonagall frowned at his language but didn't call him out on it. Instead, she looked at him for a few seconds. "You just defeated…"
"Yes, I know," Harry interrupted impatiently. The last thing he wanted was yet another person telling him how wonderful he was for ridding the world of Voldemort. Whenever somebody told him that the same two thoughts came to him – Ginny was dying and Harry had used the Killing Curse. He wasn't ready to face either of them.
McGonagall frowned again, this time at being interrupted. For a split second she looked as though she was going to reprimand him, but then her features softened. "Take a walk with me," she said. She turned and set off in the general direction of the lake, leaving Harry no choice but to follow her.
Harry quickly caught up with her and the two walked towards the lake, leaving the slowly dispersing crowd behind them. Soon they had walked far enough so that the sounds of the crowd had all but died away, but McGonagall remained silent. Harry stole a quick glance at her, curious as to what she wanted, and found her staring straight ahead with a neutral expression on her face. He decided to stay quiet and let her decide when to start talking.
They reached the shores of the lake and McGonagall stopped. Harry stopped beside her. They both stared out over the calm, glassy surface of the lake, broken only by a few ripples as the Giant Squid surfaced to sun itself. It was peaceful here. Standing there watching the Giant Squid float lazily on its back Harry realized just how much he had missed Hogwarts over the last year. Even just the little things like relaxing by the lake on a warm, sunny afternoon. Especially just the little things.
"I need to apologize to you."
Harry jumped. He had actually forgotten that Professor McGonagall was standing right next to him. He knew right away what she was talking about.
"No, you don't," he said softly.
McGonagall turned to look at him. "Yes, Harry, I do. Albus trusted you, I knew that. It should have been enough for me."
Harry continued to gaze out over the lake as he slowly shook his head. He tried to find the words to make her realize that she had nothing to apologize for but she pressed on.
"I had no right to treat you the way I did…" she started to say.
"YOU HAD EVERY RIGHT!" Harry roared in a burst of sudden anger. He tore his gaze from the lake and turned to face McGonagall in time to see the look of shock pass through her eyes before she steeled her face back into its usual emotionless state.
Harry blinked in surprise. Where had that come from? Just as soon as the anger had come it had gone. He shook it off and continued, in a much softer voice. "You and Professor Dumbledore were close. How close, I have no idea, and it's none of my business either. He told me things that he didn't tell you, and then he died before you could talk about any of this with him. You were angry at him but he wasn't there for you to be angry at. I was."
McGonagall stared at the young man in front of her. He had said pretty much everything she had come to realize since reading the articles in The Wizarding Times earlier that week. She had no idea he was so perceptive, and when she told him that he just laughed.
"I'm not. Hermione told me all that months ago," he admitted.
McGonagall smiled faintly at the thought of her favorite student, although she would never admit to a soul that she actually had a favorite student. But the smile quickly disappeared when Harry turned back with a quiet sigh to again stare out over the lake.
"That's no excuse for the way I treated you," she said, a bit distraught at how distant Harry seemed. "I truly am sorry."
Harry turned his head to look her in the eye. "I know," he said with a sad smile before turning back to the lake.
It was then that McGonagall knew she truly was forgiven. Harry wasn't being distant towards her, he was just being distant in general. And she had a pretty good idea why. With those thoughts McGonagall shifted to the other reason she wanted to speak to Harry.
"That's not the only reason I wanted to talk to you," she told him.
Harry raised an eyebrow.
"Come on, let's keep walking," McGonagall said. "It's such a nice day." For the second time that day she set off before he could argue, leaving him no choice but to follow. They walked slowly around the lake while McGonagall gathered her thoughts. Harry had a right to know everything she knew.
"When I saw you two weeks ago," she began, "you asked me how You-Know-Who was able to abduct Ms. Weasley from Hogwarts." She now had Harry's full attention. "I told you that I didn't know, that we had no idea at all how that happened. I told you the truth, how he got her out of the castle remains a mystery, but I didn't tell you everything we know. I think I at least owe you that much."
Harry motioned for her to continue.
"On the night in question, Ms. Weasley failed to show up for dinner. Her friends didn't think anything of it at the time, apparently she had told them earlier that afternoon she was going down to speak to Professor Slughorn about her upcoming exam in Potions. When she didn't come to dinner they just assumed she had decided to go to the library to study after talking to him.
"After dinner, two of her friends went to the library to bring her some food. They couldn't find her in the library so they spent about a half hour searching the school before going to Professor Slughorn. He told them she had not come to see him at all that day. They came to my office and were in the process of explaining to me that she was missing when word came in that You-Know-Who was dead.
"Once the Hogwarts staff learned Ms. Weasley had somehow been abducted from the school, we conducted a thorough investigation. Several students reported seeing her going into the dungeons about two hours before dinner, heading in the general direction of the Potions classroom. Nobody saw her after that, and there is no evidence that any of the extensive wards protecting the castle were breached."
There was a moment of silence as the two of them continued to slowly walk around the lake. "I know it's not much," McGonagall added, "but I thought you deserved to know everything I know."
Harry nodded, whether in agreement or acknowledgement McGonagall couldn't say. "She was last seen in the dungeons?" he asked.
"That's right," McGonagall confirmed.
"So it was one of the Slytherins then," he growled.
McGonagall sighed. "It's possible. All I can say for certainty is that no student in Hogwarts carries the Dark Mark – of that I am quite certain – and that no other students were missing. I don't know who was responsible for her abduction, but, perhaps even more worrisome, I don't know how she was abducted. Like I said, no wards were breached. The castle was locked down, all doorways, windows, and secret passageways were equipped with monitoring spells. I would have known if anybody had exited or entered through one of them, and nobody did."
"So we'll never know, then," Harry said. He sounded defeated, as if he had already accepted that whoever had been responsible would escape without punishment.
"We won't give up. Not yet, at least," McGonagall argued.
Harry shot her a look.
McGonagall sighed again. "No, I doubt we'll ever know for certain what happened," she admitted. She stopped walking and stared out over the lake. They had walked almost all the way to the other side. She could still see the remnants of the crowd on the Quidditch Pitch, but at this distance they moved about silently. Shifting her gaze a bit she watched as a bird flew down out of the sky and landed on the tip of a white tomb. She watched the bird for several minutes before she realized Harry had also gone silent beside her. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and found him regarding the same white tomb.
"It's times like these I wish Albus was still here," she admitted. "No one knew the castle as well as he did. If anyone could figure out what happened it would have been him."
"Can't you ask his portrait?" Harry asked, thinking of the portrait of a sleeping Dumbledore he had seen the two times he had been in the former Headmaster's office since his death.
"He hasn't woken up yet," McGonagall answered.
Harry looked at her in confusion. "You can't wake him up?" he asked.
"How much do you know about portraits?" McGonagall answered with a question of her own as she turned to look at Harry.
"Err… not much, I guess," Harry said. "I never really gave them much thought. I'm not even really sure how they're made."
"When a portrait is first made the subject is always asleep," McGonagall explained. "Some wake up almost instantly, some wake up a few days afterwards, some wake up after a few weeks or months, and some either take years to wake up or don't wake up at all. Each portrait to ever wake says that they somehow knew they were needed, but they have no idea how they knew that or what caused them to wake up. Nobody has ever been able to wake up a portrait before it was ready, and nobody understands why some wake up while others do not."
Harry frowned. "I don't understand. Can't the people who make the portraits explain it?"
McGonagall shook her head. "Portraits make use of extremely complex magic that just isn't well understood. A portrait is more than simply a copy of the memories and personalities of somebody, it contains a part of the person's magical essence. Even the company that makes portraits doesn't understand it very well."
"I don't understand. How can they make portraits if they don't even understand the process? And what is a magical essence? If somebody leaves behind their essence to make a portrait, then are they not really dead? I mean, if part of them is still here, does that prevent them from going on to whatever comes after we die? Like what happens when someone becomes a ghost?" Harry asked, completely confused but also somewhat intrigued.
McGonagall smiled to herself as she listened to Harry. It was the most animated she had seen him all day. In fact, he reminded her a little of Hermione with his whirlwind of questions. Seven years in her company must have rubbed off on him a bit.
"No," she said, addressing his questions, "they are truly dead. A witch or wizard who wishes to leave behind a portrait has part of their essence extracted before they die. It's similar to if you were to have blood extracted, it doesn't mean you are any less of a person than you were before. And in the same way that leaving a vial of your blood behind after you die wouldn't stop you from going on, neither would leaving behind part of your essence.
"Now, as for what a magical essence is – that is a question nobody has an answer for. The process of creating a portrait was discovered quite by accident by a Healer a few thousand years ago. She was trying to develop an easier method of drawing blood from a body, and ended up creating a spell that withdrew a cloudy, formless substance instead. She had no idea what it was and so she experimented with it for several decades. After nearly half a century of running every experiment she could dream up, she mixed it with a bit of parchment on a whim. To her great surprise, a portrait of herself appeared.
"That is why those who make portraits can do so without fully understanding the process. They simply copy what that Healer did when she accidentally invented the process. So they have no way of explaining why some portraits wake up while others do not, and, unfortunately, the portraits don't seem to be able to explain it either beyond saying they somehow knew they had to wake up."
Harry listened as McGonagall explained. When she finished there was one thing that he didn't understand. "Professor Dumbledore was needed," he said softly.
McGonagall turned away from Harry and looked back at the distant white tomb glistening in the late afternoon sunlight. "This past year no one was needed more than Albus. Just hearing his voice speak a few words of wisdom would have done such wonders for us all. I can't tell you how many times I've tried to understand why he hasn't woken up…" her voice died off.
Harry heard the hurt in her voice and didn't know what to say, so he said nothing. Eventually McGonagall shook her head and gave him a faint smile. "I've taken up enough of your time, let's get you back to your friends," she said as she set started walking again.
Harry followed her and they walked in a companionable silence most of the way around the lake. It wasn't until they were almost all of the way back and Harry saw Ron and Hermione begin to walk towards him that he broke their silence.
"Professor…" he began.
"Minerva," she corrected him. "I'm no longer your professor. I haven't been for a year now."
Harry shook his head. "I'm not sure I could get used to that. But I'll try," he added when he saw she was about to protest.
She nodded and gestured for him to continue.
"I wanted to thank you," said Harry. "For being honest with me. About everything, I mean. Ginny, Professor Dumbledore, and, well… everything." Harry wasn't accustomed to authority figures actually being completely open with him, and he had gotten the feeling from McGonagall during their walk that being open was exactly what she had been doing. He was genuinely grateful for it.
McGonagall nodded. "It was the least I could do after the way I've acted this past year."
Harry waved his hand in dismissal. "I don't blame you for that, please don't blame yourself."
McGonagall nodded again. She held out her hand to him, which he grasped warmly and shook. "Come visit an old professor every once in awhile, won't you?" she asked.
"You can count on it," said Hermione, as she and Ron had now reached the two of them. "With us studying for our NEWTS this year I'm sure we'll have questions that we'll need to contact you about."
"Yeah, I imagine you'll be sick of us before long," Ron added.
McGonagall struggled to control the emotions that were threatening to bubble over the cool demeanor she maintained for others. Even if she would never admit it to anyone else, the three young adults standing in front of her had been three of her favorite students of all time. The only others that came close were a certain three pranksters and one red-haired witch.
"I doubt it," she managed to say in response to Ron's comment. After letting go of Harry's hand she shook hands with Ron as well, but when she held out her hand to Hermione the young woman instead enveloped her in a sudden hug. That was just enough to push her over the edge and she felt a few tears prickling at the edges of her eyes.
"Thank you for everything, Professor," Hermione said when she drew back. "I've learned so much from you." She reached up and wiped away a tear, a gesture mirrored by McGonagall.
"Sorry," McGonagall said, "my allergies always get to me this time of year."
"Mine too," Hermione agreed as both woman ignored the looks of disbelief Ron and Harry were sending their way.
A sudden commotion caused them all to look towards the Quidditch Pitch, where they saw Hagrid engaged in a heated discussion with Rufus Scrimgeour.
McGonagall sighed. "Oh, not that again. The two of them don't exactly agree on whether Grawp should be allowed to move out of the Forbidden Forest. If you'll excuse me…" she started to hurry off, but stopped after a few steps and turned to look at the three of them. "You three take care of each other. You have a strong friendship, don't ever let anything come in the way of that." And with that she turned and strode off in the general direction of the shouting match between an irate Minister of Magic and an even more irate Half-Giant.
They watched her walk away for a few seconds and then Ron turned to Hermione. "Allergies?" he asked with a grin.
Hermione ignored him and turned to Harry instead. "Harry, Ron and I are going to meet a bunch of old DA members at The Three Broomsticks. Do you want to come?"
Harry nodded. "Sure," he said. Part of him wanted to hurry back to St. Mungo's as quickly as possible to be with Ginny, but another part of him was dreading going back there. It was just so depressing sitting in a hospital room watching her lay in bed all day. So even though he felt a bit guilty about not rushing back, he really did want to go with Ron and Hermione. It would be nice to see all of his old classmates as well.
The three friends set off down the path to Hogsmeade. At first they made small talk, but after a lull in the conversation Hermione asked Harry a question.
"What did Professor McGonagall want?" she asked softly. Harry didn't answer right away. "Oh, I'm sorry, you don't have to tell…"
"No, it's ok," Harry interrupted. He suddenly decided he wanted to tell them what McGonagall had said to him. When he got to the part about Ginny last being seen in the dungeons Ron got a dark look on his face.
"It was one of the Slytherins," he growled.
"It could have been anyone, Ron," Harry sighed. "McGonagall doesn't seem very hopeful we'll ever know what happened."
Ron thought about that for a minute. "If I ever find out who was responsible, I'll kill them," he said.
"Not if I do first," Harry replied softly.
Harry and Ron looked at each other. Neither one was joking and with nothing more than a look they each knew the other meant it. They took solace in knowing the other would do what they had to if the opportunity ever arose.
Hermione looked back and forth between her two friends, who seemed to be having a conversation without words. She sighed. "Nobody is going to be killing anybody," she said. Ron opened his mouth to argue but thought better when he saw the fierce look on her face. Instead, Harry continued narrating the conversation he had shared with McGonagall.
"I always wondered how portraits worked," Ron said when he had finished.
Harry glanced at Hermione, who had remained silent the whole time he was talking about portraits. "I'm actually kind of surprised you haven't said anything," he said to her. "I would have thought you'd jump at the chance to talk about something nobody understands very well."
Hermione looked down at her feet. "Remember the whole thing with the Time Turner?" she asked.
Harry frowned at the sudden shift in the conversation. He looked at Ron who shrugged. "You mean rescuing Sirius?" Harry asked.
Hermione shook her head. "No, no… I… remember how overwhelmed I got?"
"Yeah…" Harry said, completely confused as to where this was going.
"Well, all the classes weren't really the problem. A few weeks into the term I learned about portraits and about how nobody understands much about how they're made or what magical essence is. I decided I was going to figure it out, so I worked non-stop on it. I used the Time Turner to give myself more time but I never actually used it to sleep. Harry? Ron?" Hermione turned around and saw that both of them had stopped several paces back up the path. They were both gaping at her.
"Let me get this straight," Ron said once he managed to close his mouth. "You – a 14 year old witch who didn't even know magic existed three years earlier – decided to answer a question that nobody, not even some of the greatest minds in the history of the Wizarding World, had been able to answer for the last several thousand years?"
"Something like that," Hermione said in a tiny voice.
"That's our Hermione," Ron said with a smile.
Hermione bristled. "I am not your anything!" she exclaimed.
Ron held up his hands in defeat. "Ok, ok, sorry. I just meant… oh, never mind. You really are amazing, Hermione. Come on, we're almost there." He started walking down the path again, leaving Hermione to decide what exactly he meant by that comment.
Harry followed Ron, and when he walked by Hermione he leaned in close to her. "It was a compliment," he whispered as he walked by. Hermione just stared at their backs for a few seconds before shaking her head and following after them.
As they entered Hogsmeade Harry began to walk slower and slower. His face took on a tight appearance, almost as if he was trying as hard as possible to prevent any emotion from showing. Both his friends noticed but didn't say anything, unsure what had caused the sudden change. As they neared the Three Broomsticks Harry suddenly stopped. He stared at a spot on the ground a few steps away from the entrance to the pub.
"Harry?" Hermione asked softly. He didn't answer. "Harry?" she said again, a bit more forcefully.
Harry snapped his head up. "What? Oh, sorry. Let's go in."
"What's wrong, Harry?" Hermione asked.
He looked back down at the ground. "That's where…" he trailed off.
Ron and Hermione looked at each other in confusion. "What is it, mate?" Ron asked.
"Tonks…" Harry said softly. "This is the first time I've been here since it happened."
A look of comprehension came over both their faces. This must have been the spot where Tonks was killed. They knew it happened in Hogsmeade and that Harry had been there when it happened, but they had never really heard the details. Harry hadn't wanted to talk about it and they never pressed him on it. Hermione was considering asking Harry if he wanted to talk about it when he started talking on his own.
"It was two days before Christmas," he said in a faraway voice. "Remus asked me to stop by Grimmauld Place before I went to the Burrow for Christmas. He said he had something he wanted to ask me…"
- - - - -
"Ooomph!" Harry fell out of the fireplace and onto the cold stone floor of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. He rubbed his knee and dragged himself up into a sitting position, glaring at the fireplace. "Bloody Floo… it shouldn't be so damn hard," he muttered to himself. Suddenly he was startled by the sound of a quiet chuckle, and he looked up to see Remus Lupin sitting at the table in the basement kitchen, watching him with amusement dancing in his eyes.
"That's right, laugh it up," Harry said as he stood up, gingerly testing weight on his knee. It seemed to hold, so he walked over to where Remus was sitting.
"I'm sorry, Harry, but it is rather funny, you know." Remus said, not actually sounding the least bit sorry.
"What? My pain is funny to you?" Harry snapped.
"No, not that," Remus shook his head. "It's just funny to think what people would say if they knew how bad you were at Floo travel. You're Harry Potter – The Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, the…"
"I think you've made your point," Harry said as he sat down and sulked in a chair across from Remus.
"Not quite." There was something bordering on glee lighting up Remus' eyes that made Harry instantly suspicious.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"Well, as I was saying before I was interrupted," Remus intoned, "you're Harry Potter – The Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, the youngest Tri-Wizard Champion in history, and…" he paused for dramatic effect. He pulled a magazine out from under a stack of parchment on the table and plopped it down in front of Harry. "… this year's Witch Weekly's Hottest Wizard!"
Harry stared at the cover of the magazine in horror. There was a picture of him in his Gryffindor Quidditch gear soaring through the air on his Firebolt. His hair was windblown and his face was a mask of concentration as he reached for something just off the page – presumably the Snitch. The text on the cover proclaimed "HARRY POTTER: HOTTEST WIZARD! READ ALL ABOUT THIS BOY WONDER INSIDE!"
"Boy Wonder?" Harry asked softly to nobody in particular. He groaned and banged his head down onto the table.
"Imagine what all those readers would say if they knew their Hottest Wizard couldn't even properly Floo," Remus said with unabashed glee.
Without raising his head from the table Harry made a very rude gesture. He then grabbed the magazine and flung it in the general direction of the fire.
"You missed," Remus said.
Harry responded with a second rude gesture.
"That's not very nice, young man," Remus said. "What would all the readers…"
"Stuff it, Remus," Harry said as he raised his head to glare at the older man.
Remus raised his hands in surrender. "Ok, ok," he said with a chuckle. "I'm sorry, but I had to have at least a little bit of fun with that. If nothing else it was my duty as the last of the Marauders."
Harry muttered something under his breath about old men who thought they were funny, and then got a good laugh at watching Remus sputter at being called old. "What's wrong?" he asked. "You can dish it out but you can't take it?" he taunted.
Remus gave him a stern glare for a few seconds before breaking and smiling. "How about we declare a truce? I'm already in the middle of a prank war with the Weasley Twins; I need to focus all of my attention on that."
"A prank war with the Twins?" Harry asked. "How did that start? I haven't heard anything about it!"
"Well, no, you wouldn't," said Remus with a mischievous grin. "It all started when the Twins paid off the printing company releasing the updated version of Hogwarts: A History to say that they were the greatest pranksters of all time when, in reality, the book was going to give that title to the Marauders. I found out about it a few weeks ago, and let's just say the Marauders have been making them regret their actions. It's a rather one-sided prank war at the moment as they have no idea that 'The Marauders' is actually me. I'm thinking about leaving some clues for them to follow, actually, since it's only so much fun pranking them into oblivion with no threat of retaliation."
Harry smiled at the thought of the Twins getting beat at their own game, as well as the thought of Remus getting himself involved in a prank war. There was a light in his eye when he described the prank war that was rarely present in the werewolf's eyes, and Harry realized it probably meant that he had finally managed to come to terms with being the last of the Marauders. It was the only way he would ever start pranking again. Harry was happy for him. Remus, more than just about everyone else, deserved a little happiness in his life.
"So you're still living here at Headquarters?" Harry asked.
Remus nodded. "It's hard sometimes, but somebody needs to be here to keep the place running."
"So the Order is still active, then?" With his focus on the search for the Horcruxes over the past several months he had been paying very little attention to what everyone else had been up to.
Remus nodded again. "It's not the same with Dumbledore gone, but we do our best." Remus fixed Harry with a piercing glare. "We might be able to do more if we knew what you considered so important you decided to leave school to do," he said.
Harry met Remus' stare with one of his own. "I can't," he said, his eyes pleading yet firm.
After a few seconds of tense silence Remus sighed and smiled sadly. "I know, Harry. I'm sorry. If Dumbledore didn't even tell the Order about whatever it was the two of you were up to when he died, secrecy must be very important. It's just…" he trailed off.
"Frustrating?" Harry asked.
Remus nodded silently.
"I know," said Harry. "I wish it didn't have to be this way. If I could tell you I would, you have to understand that. I just can't."
"I do understand, Harry," said Remus. "Just promise to ask for help if you ever need it."
It was Harry's turn to nod. The two lapsed into silence for a moment before Harry remembered why he had come in the first place. "Your owl said you needed to ask me something. What was it?" he asked.
Suddenly Remus' face broke out into a wide grin. "Ah yes," he said. "I…"
Whatever Remus was about to say was interrupted by a loud bang as the door burst open and Moody limped in, followed by a few Order members Harry didn't know. Without a word Moody went over to a cabinet and pulled out a box.
Remus, recognizing the box for what it was, stood up. "What is it?" he asked.
"Death Eaters in Hogsmeade," Moody said gruffly. "The Aurors have already been called in. I'm looking for the Hogsmeade Portkey so we can help them." He said all this while rooting through the box.
"The Aurors…" Remus' face went white as he trailed off. Harry frowned at his reaction for a second before realizing that meant Tonks was probably there.
"Here it is," Moody said as he pulled a white paper cup out of the box. The other Order members gathered around Moody, and when Remus took a step forward Harry stood up. Remus turned back to look at him but Harry spoke first.
"I'm coming," he said. The two men stared at each other for a split second before Remus nodded. They both walked over and placed their hands with the others on the Portkey.
"Wands out," Moody said. There was a brief shuffling as they all drew wands. "Everybody ready?" he asked. There was only a grim silence for a reply before Moody spoke the password to activate the Portkey. "Order of the Phoenix."
Harry felt the familiar tug behind his navel and felt a momentary wave of dizziness.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!"
Out of reflex Harry threw himself to the ground a second before hearing an explosion behind him. From his vantage point on the ground he saw an Auror send a curse towards a Death Eater who still had his wand pointing where Harry had just been standing. Harry pulled himself to a sitting position and glanced behind him to find the shattered remains of a lamppost. He struggled to come to terms with how close that curse had come to striking him instead of the lamppost.
"All right, Harry!" he heard a shout from several feet away. He turned his head and saw Remus looking at him in concern. He nodded, shaking off the lingering shock.
"I'm fine," he called out as he pulled himself to his feet. He looked around and felt his mouth open in shock as he got the first good look at his surroundings. He was standing in the middle of Hogsmeade Village, or what was left of it to be more precise. Several buildings were completely gone, leaving nothing but a burned out hole in the ground where they used to be. Several more were still standing but had flames slowly consuming them. A few packs of masked Death Eaters were visible among the ruins of the Village, most of them locked in intense duels with Aurors, but overall there was very little fighting. Bodies were strewn about haphazardly. Harry looked away before figuring out if they were the bodies of Death Eaters, Aurors, or innocent bystanders. He wasn't sure he wanted to know.
He turned his head again and looked at Remus. The older man was surveying the wreckage with an expression similar to the one Harry imagined was on his own face. Moody and the other Order members were nowhere in sight, having already gone off to join one of the fights.
"I guess we missed most of the fighting," Remus muttered. "It looks like a warzone here."
"It is one," Harry replied.
Remus started and then nodded. He was about to say something else but was cut off by several screams coming from down the street. Harry and Remus looked at each other for a second before setting off down the street, both gripping their wands tightly.
The screams were coming from a large gathering of people outside of The Three Broomsticks, which had somehow survived the battle mostly intact. At first Harry looked around in confusion, unsure of the cause of the screaming, but it became obvious when a jet of green light flew out from a nearby alley. A girl not more than twelve fell to the ground.
"Stay calm!" a voice shouted. Harry looked at Remus in surprise. They knew that voice.
"Tonks!" Remus shouted. He broke into a run followed closely by Harry. They pushed through the crowd and found Tonks standing near the door of The Three Broomsticks.
"Tonks!" Remus exclaimed. He looked like he wanted to sweep her up in his arms and hold her tight but he restrained himself given the situation.
"Remus! Harry!" she added in surprise when she saw him standing next to Remus. "I've been helping all the Villagers use the Floo in the pub to get to safety, it's the only place in the Village with a large enough supply of Floo Powder for everyone." There was another scream and some jostling in the crowd. "The Death Eaters have noticed though, they all seem to be converging here. Help them all get inside, I'll try to hold them off."
She moved to the edge of the crowd and immediately began firing spells. "I'll help her," Remus said as he moved to stand beside her.
Harry was just about to join them when a commotion made him turn. Several members of the crowd had all pushed to the front in their panic to avoid the Death Eaters' curses. Three of them had managed to wedge themselves in the door, and a few of the others were pushing and shoving each other as they tried to be first to get inside. A flash of green light followed by an older man falling to the ground and more screams just increased their fighting.
Harry was torn. He wanted desperately to stand beside Remus and Tonks and help them fight, but he couldn't just leave the citizens to fight among themselves. At the rate they were going none of them would make it into the building where they could Floo to safety. For an agonizing moment of time he looked back and forth between his two choices before he made a decision.
"Listen up!" he bellowed as he strode towards the door and shot red sparks from his wand. "You have to stay calm!" His words seemed to have no effect.
"You're not going to get out of here if you don't calm down!"
The pushing continued. Harry walked right into the middle of the fight.
"Enough! Stop it!"
He was jostled aside but otherwise ignored.
"Are you people deaf? You need to…"
A stray elbow caught him in the face and knocked him to the ground. He tasted blood, and at that moment several more people in the crowd screamed. Harry could only assume yet another had been brought down by a curse from the Death Eaters but he couldn't see anything now that he was in the middle of the crowd. He felt his rage at the situation suddenly explode and he leapt to his feet.
"BLOODY SETTLE DOWN! STUPEFY!" The man who seemed to be causing the most problems dropped to the ground. The fighting eased as they all stared at him. Harry Potter had just attacked one of them. They had no idea what to make of that.
"Are you all stupid!" Harry shouted. "Not one of you has made it to safety in the past several minutes! If you would stop fighting to be the first and stay calm you would all be safe already! Now shut up, stay calm, and do what I tell you if you want to live!"
Harry's tirade seemed to work. Over the next few minutes several people managed to Floo to safety now that they were staying calm enough to let each other actually get through the door. The calm was starting to edge away, however, as several more villagers were struck with curses. Out of the corner of his eye Harry could see Remus and Tonks furiously firing off curses and hexes to protect the Villagers while dancing behind any cover they could find to protect themselves, but there was only so much they could do. The lot of them were terribly exposed, they just weren't escaping quickly enough.
Suddenly Harry had an idea. He kicked himself for not thinking of it sooner. He pointed his wand at the side of The Three Broomsticks. "REDUCTO!" With a loud explosion a large hole opened in the side of the building. Harry rushed through, followed by most of the others.
The fear on the faces of those inside using the Floo faded once they realized it was only Harry and not Death Eaters storming the building. Harry watched as a man stepped into the fireplace, called out some place Harry didn't recognize, and vanished in a flash of green flames. A second man started to step into the fireplace but Harry stopped him.
"You're going one at a time?" he asked in disbelief. "No wonder it's taking so long." He pointed his wand at the fireplace and spoke a charm, watching as it expanded from being able to fit only one or two people to being able to fit at least a dozen.
The crowd of people stood there. "Well go on, start getting out of here!" he exclaimed.
"But we're all going to different places!" somebody protested.
Harry stared in shock and then shook his head at the stupidity of the statement. "Do you want to live or not?" He started pushing the closest people into the fireplace. "Get out of here! Go somewhere! Anywhere! Just go!"
After the first group of people left and the next were hurrying into the fireplace Harry turned to go back outside to help Remus and Tonks. He only got a few steps before a Death Eater burst in through the kitchen, obviously having used the back door.
"STUPEFY!" Harry shouted on reflex. A red jet of light launched from his wand and brought down the Death Eater, distracting Harry enough for him to not notice a curse headed his way until it was too late. The disarming curse struck him squarely in the chest and he watched as his wand was torn from his hand. It traveled through the air in a graceful arc before landing in the hand of a second man who had just stepped out from the kitchen. A man wearing a black silk cloak and polished black boots. A man with a thin build and a pale complexion. A man with red eyes.
"Voldemort." Harry practically spat out the name. He heard several gasps and turned to see the remaining Villagers starting at Voldemort in shock and fear. "Get out of here!" Harry shouted.
Voldemort flicked his wand and Harry watched in horror as the fireplace – which was full of people trying to escape, including a family with three small children – exploded. He turned away before the dust cleared, unwilling to see the sight that he knew awaited him. Instead he fixed his gaze on the red eyes in front of him. He fought with every ounce of self-control in his body to restrain his hatred for the man standing before him. He had to keep his head.
"Hello, Potter," he hissed. "I was hoping you would come and play."
Harry said nothing in return.
"What's wrong, Potter? No witty comeback? No promises that you're going to defeat me? Things don't look so good these days, do they? Not so sure of yourself now that I've killed your beloved headmaster?"
"You didn't kill Dumbledore," Harry replied, "Snape did. And I will defeat you."
Voldemort laughed. It was a dry, cold sound that sent shivers down Harry's neck. "With what, boy? You're not armed."
Harry didn't reply. He was doing his best to project a calm exterior but inwardly he was desperately searching for a plan. Without his wand there was little he could think of to do, and the Villagers would be no help as they were all frozen in fear. Harry couldn't blame them, though. People rarely survived encounters with Voldemort, so in their minds they were all about to die.
Voldemort took a step towards the group of Villagers. Harry took a step forward to place himself between them and Voldemort, but found himself frozen to the floor with a flick of Voldemort's wand. "Stay put, boy," he said with a callous laugh.
Harry fought to overcome the curse but couldn't. He could do nothing but watch as Voldemort approached the group of people, being careful to avoid the fireplace with his eyes. Voldemort stopped a few feet in front of them.
"You are all pathetic," he said in disgust. "You all have wands yet none of you use them. You stand there like cattle being led to the slaughter. You pin all your hopes on that boy over there. You give him fancy names like The-Boy-Who-Lived and The Chosen One. Chosen for what? To defeat me? He can't even move his feet." He laughed again before moving to stand in front of a small boy. He kneeled down and put himself at eye level with the boy, who had started to shake with fear.
"What sort of example are you setting for this child? You're teaching him that he should run and hide and let others fight his battles for him. In fact, I think it's already too late for him. You've all corrupted him already." With that he stood up and pointed his wand at the boy. "Avada Kedavra," he said lazily, almost as if he were bored. A flash of green light was followed by a soft thud as the boy hit the ground.
Harry stared in horror at the lifeless child. Voldemort turned back to look at him with a cold smile on his face. "Don't you see how powerless you are to stop me?" he asked. "You have been an annoyance, yes, but you aren't powerful enough to stop me. Nobody is. Until we meet again…" He snapped Harry's wand in half and threw it at his feet, flicked his own wand, and was gone.
It took Harry a few seconds to realize the curse had been lifted and he could now move. By that point the boy on the floor was surrounded by sobbing family members while most of the others continued to stand there in shock over coming face to face with the Dark Lord and somehow surviving. A few seconds later Harry realized how quiet it was outside. The shouting of curses and sounds of explosions had vanished.
He slowly made his way towards the opening in the wall he had made earlier, afraid of what he would find but following his need to make sure that Remus and Tonks were all right. The first thing he noticed was the destruction. It was even worse than when he had been outside only a few minutes earlier. The majority of the buildings that made up Hogsmeade were either gone or in the process of burning to the ground.
The second thing he noticed was the silence broken only by the crackling of flames as they consumed the Village. The Death Eaters were gone. The fighting had stopped, leaving behind an unnatural stillness that spoke of death, reinforced by the bodies littering the ground. Harry stared in shock at the sight of such destruction, the thick smoke that filled the air stinging his eyes and burning his lungs. He felt overwhelmed by the enormity of what he was seeing. An entire Village destroyed.
He caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye and turned his head. The body of a woman lay on the ground. The wind, which was just beginning to pick up, had caught hold of a corner of her robe and was blowing it about above her body. Her head was cradled in the lap of Remus Lupin, who was sitting on the ground beside her and softly stroking her hair. It was then that Harry noticed the robe blowing in the wind was an Auror's robe.
Tonks.
Harry walked over and sat down next to Remus. He felt tears stinging his eyes and a lump in his throat. Remus looked up at him with an expression of such pain on his face that Harry shivered.
"I couldn't protect her," Remus whispered as a single tear escaped his eyes and ran down his face.
Harry bowed his head. Seeing Tonks laying there had shaken him out of the numbness that had been slowly taking over in the past few minutes. His emotions were a boiling mess or rage, grief, and guilt. He drew a shaky breath to try to calm himself but found it did little to help. The lump in his throat grew and he struggled to find a way to deal with the overwhelming intensity of this sudden rush of feeling. He heard a sob escape from Remus and found it too much to deal with.
He stood up and staggered a few feet away. He stopped and looked down at the body of a Death Eater that lay at his feet. He drew deep breaths to again try to calm himself but felt a rage growing with each breath he took. With a guttural cry he kicked the body with all his might. He kicked and kicked in an effort to release the uncontrollable anger, and eventually it faded, leaving a dull ache that started in the back of his throat and spread throughout his entire body.
Harry looked down at the now-mangled body. He didn't feel any better – in fact he felt worse – but the intensity of his rage had faded. He turned back to look at Remus and saw the man still sitting on the ground. He was still cradling Tonks' head in his lap and he was staring at her face with an unreadable expression. Her robe continued to flap above her body in the wind in a silent tribute to the fallen.
- - - - -
"That was the last time I ever saw Remus," Harry told his two best friends. "He disappeared later that night."
"Harry, I'm sorry…" Hermione said softly.
"For what?" he asked.
"I just… we never knew. I mean, we knew about the battle, obviously. The Daily Prophet published plenty of pictures showing the destruction. And I knew that was when Tonks died and that you were there. But I just never…" she trailed off, unsure of the words to express herself.
"We didn't know how bad it was. On some level we knew, but we didn't really know," Ron finished for her. Hermione nodded.
Harry smiled sadly. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I never told you."
"Why do you think Voldemort left without killing you or the other people inside The Three Broomsticks?" Ron asked.
Harry sighed. "I've thought about that a lot, actually. I think he wanted those people to see me powerless to stop him, so that they could spread the word that nobody, not even the great Harry Potter, could stop him. It was just another way for him to spread terror. And as for me, I honestly don't know. My only guess is that he wanted to be able to really hurt me when he killed me. I think he was always looking for a way to do that. When he got Ginny and realized he could kill her in front of me and then kill me, that must have been good enough for him. But that's only a guess, I don't really know."
At the mention of Ginny the trio fell into silence for a moment. Suddenly Harry pulled out his wand and stared at it with a frown. "I was able to have my wand repaired after Voldemort broke it. I just remembered – wasn't my wand shattered into a million pieces during that final battle?" he asked.
"Oh," Hermione said. "Yes, it was. Ron and I had it repaired while you were in the coma. We were going to tell you but just forgot about it."
"I didn't think it would be possible. There was almost nothing left of it," said Harry.
Hermione just smiled. "Magic is a wonderful thing."
Harry smiled back at her, some of the light that had left during his telling of the Battle of Hogsmeade coming back to his eyes. He looked around at the buildings around him. "They really did a good job rebuilding," he said. "You can't even tell that basically the entire Village was destroyed six months ago."
The three of them lapsed into another silence before Ron spoke up. "Come on, let's go inside." Harry nodded and, with one last glance at the spot on the ground where Tonks had fallen, he followed Ron and Hermione into The Three Broomsticks to enjoy a drink with his friends.
Author's Notes:
First and foremost, I want to apologize for taking nearly six weeks to write this chapter. I could make all of the usual excuses authors make when they take a long time to write a chapter, but what it basically comes down to is that writing the next chapter just wasn't very high on my list of priorities for several weeks. I will always try to get chapters written in a reasonable amount of time, but I can't promise this won't ever happen again. All I can promise is that this story will never be abandoned.
I had an extremely hard time writing this chapter once I did sit down and start to write. I'm honestly not sure why that is – sometimes chapters just flow out of me and sometimes it's a battle just to squeeze out a paragraph. I think the difficulty I had is reflected in the quality of writing in this chapter, which I don't think is as high as the others. I've revised and revised more times than I care to admit, and ultimately just decided to publish it because I've already made you wait long enough.
I want to thank those of you that have reviewed my story so far. Your wonderful comments were a source of motivation to get this chapter out sooner than I might have otherwise, and I thank you for them. As I said previously, feedback, even negative feedback, is the greatest gift you can give a writer.
Next chapter will actually see very little of Harry as I move time ahead a bit and explore some things with a few other characters.
Please review!