1. DISCLAIMER. The obvious. I do not own anything. Thanks to Ms Rowling for giving us such wonderful stories, even if I don't agree with her recent statements.
2. Thanks a lot to Fogira and RosaSilvermist who helped with the first version of this chap some years ago (this is the return of a story I deleted back then).
3. I decided to publish this without getting it beta in its most recent version. Let me know if you see something off
4. Any error here is mine and not from my reviewer. If you spot anything or have a doubt about the grammar used or plot just PM me, I'm always swift to answer.
5. To my readers. Hope you enjoy this, I know some of you are waiting for updates in my other stories and to them I say... patience. I am working on Ship Wars chap3, but got this around and decided to publish it.
The streets in town were in ruins. Only a few days had passed, so it was to be expected. Despite the foreknowledge though, the first glimpse never stopped being demoralizing.
The young man entered the town without drawing too much attention to him. It wasn't the first time he passed by since it happened, but the destruction he witnessed brought remorse just the same. He didn't go anywhere near the main street — where the bulk of the damage had been done — and the smoke from the roofs was gone now, however, that didn't mean that the sight before him had stopped being gloomy.
The scant number of houses damaged in the outskirts were still in bad shape. Some had large holes on them or window boards hanging perilously from their hinges. The streets were mostly deserted and if it weren't for the people working on repairs they would have been almost silent. Some of those streets still bore the consequences of that day, and walking through them required sidestepping large chunks of rubble.
Walls and roofs were far from being the only thing broken though since the faces of the people reflected more than one shattered spirit. The atmosphere was lacking hope and only added up to the young man's distress. Some of these people were mourning, he knew; others had probably had little sleep just wondering about the future to come.
As he kept his steady pace through the outskirts of town, the young man avoided looking anyone in the eyes. He was under a couple of appearance charms, but he wanted to be cautious and avoid even the slightest chance of looking suspicious. Besides, Aurors were still patrolling occasionally, as they would surely do for some time, he reckoned. It was safer to go on without drawing too much attention to him.
A couple of corners down the way, he stepped on what appeared to be the remains of a broken counter. Considering it had all happened several blocks away, it was astonishing how the counter had made it all the way to this place. It was another surprise to notice so much work still left to do.
Few residents knew how to make large building repairs in a proper manner, and those who did and weren't busy tending to the injured or working on the main street were even less. The Ministry's investigations and grief had been likely slowing the repair efforts as well. It appeared that putting this town into shape would take a few days more, even with magic.
The young man wished he could help, he wished he could say something to these people at least. Standing there, he felt like an intruder, like a ghost staring at an old memory that he couldn't change. Useless.
And yet he had a task, one he couldn't risk.
It took him some time to get to his destination, even following a couple of detours along the way for good measure. Although, he couldn't avoid a handful of people noticing him as he passed by; maybe wondering what his story was, maybe thinking he wasn't from around there. Either way, they didn't pay him much mind; they had more than enough to worry as it were.
Before long, the young man found himself in front of the old shack. Thankfully alone. All the windows in the old wrecked place were boarded up, appearing as if indeed no one had been there in decades.
A low and lengthy sigh escaped from him as his eyes moved higher, in the castle's direction. It seemed almost unbelievable but not even a week had passed, and yet, everything had changed.
Once he was sure nobody had followed him, the young man walked forward.
As hard to believe as it was, the shack looked even more neglected from the inside. All the furniture was moth-eaten, and its walls had the thickest layer of dust he had ever seen. However, it was surely looking better than Zonko's. The young man still remembered half of the building exploding away before his eyes.
He shook the memory away and forced himself to focus on what he was doing. If he wandered around in his thoughts, he wasn't going to get anything done. And he needed to stay true to the plan.
It didn't take long to locate the narrow dirt passage. He went on, as he had done a few times before. Soon after, he was crawling out of the other end, just under the Whomping Willow. Fresh air invaded his lungs again.
Hogwarts castle looked as splendid as ever, not a thing different about its appearance. In spite of it, it now had a sombre shadow that could only be felt, not seen. Some distance away, the toughest Aurors were guarding the main entrance, stopping anyone suspicious from coming in. On the grounds right in front of the castle, people were starting to gather up. He needed to hurry.
It was a real challenge to get all the way up to the tower. He had his eyes fixed on the ground as much as he could, trying to avoid being recognized. Fortunately, most of the students were too distracted in their own sad thoughts to give him a second look. Nevertheless, when he reached the Fat Lady's portrait, he wondered if he was going to be able to go through. He had procured the clothes to pass as any other member of the house but they could have changed the password and, in that case, he wouldn't be able to complete this part of the plan now. That would be unfortunate, as he would hardly get a better chance to pass unnoticed.
Thankfully, the young man got lucky as at that moment three students who appeared to be from second or third year walked out of the common room. He took this opportunity to walk inside. Neither those students nor the Fat Lady paid much attention to him, they were all focused on their mourning. The circular room was practically empty so he went up the boys' staircase at once, hoping there was no one in the dormitories either.
Soon enough, he was in front of the right bed and the right trunk. It didn't take much time to find what he was looking inside and, once he had the silky cloak in his hands, the young man felt like his task had become considerably easier. He took the map as well, and then an old piece of yellowish paper that was of crucial importance. He unfolded it and made sure it was the right one, he stared at it in detail.
Four.
He put it in his pocket. Then he closed the trunk and went out of the room.
The young man proceeded to the rest of his plan. With the cloak on and everyone else outside, it was the right opportunity to do so. Half an hour later he headed back to the castle's entrance, satisfied with what he had accomplished.
Once on the school grounds, the young man turned towards the large gathering of people. In the distance, he could see the large ship anchored on the Black Lake and the large carriage was distinguishable as well — the visitors had stayed for the ceremony.
Rows and rows of chairs were placed before the high parquetry, most of them occupied by students, but the front ones all held high officials from the Ministry and some of the families. He could hear the sobbing from where he was and that gave him a very uncomfortable feeling.
At that moment, the headmaster was giving his speech. He had never seen the old man so sullen. Albus Dumbledore seemed to be holding a massive burden on his shoulders and the young man couldn't avoid feeling guilty. With every word that came out of his mouth, the old wizard was turning more and more distant, more foreign. He spoke beautifully, of course, trying to give hope to those who wanted to hear him, conveying that he too shared their grief. Even so, it seemed that the most powerful wizard of Britain didn't have much hope left for himself.
On higher parts of the scene, a crying man with oval-shaped glasses caught his attention, but the guilt made the young man turn away from him. There was a black-haired man as well, ignoring the uneasy looks he got. He had a sunken expression; at times of disbelief, at times of anger. Things weren't going to be easy, not in the slightest.
The minister was there with a small guard of Aurors by his side. He was completely overwhelmed as if he hoped all the answers would just rain down onto him. Surely he was wishing none of this was true, that all of it was nothing but a bad dream.
He's not the only one.
At first, the young man couldn't recognize most of the faces of the students, since the ones at the back were mostly Slytherins or people from Durmstrang. He caught a glimpse of Draco's white-blonde hair though. No one was sitting next to him.
Eventually, he was able to locate people from all the houses, even the Ravenclaws who were seated the farthest from where he was. Cho was there of course, but he knew it was useless to look for Luna, he wasn't going to find her there.
He found all of those who were important to him, at least those who could still be found in that crowd. He had an urge to talk to them, but it would have to be at another time.
The ceremony was soon over and most of the students returned to the castle. His time was running out.
Most of the students returned at once, but some of them lingered for a while. They were all upset and tears were running down their faces. It was then that he caught a glimpse of Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. Both of their eyes were red and puffy, which made him uneasy. Nevertheless, those red eyes were dry, as if they had cried all that they could. The girl was barely walking, but the ginger boy tried to guide her back towards the castle carefully. She moved her face back to the boy's shoulder and then cried some more. Weasley did his best to comfort her.
Halfway to the entrance the two of them stopped and turned back. The young man followed their eyes and there he found a long red mane, still at the front chairs. Very few people were still sitting. The Weasley twins approached the redhead girl and, after some words, he saw them dragging the Weasley girl back to the castle as well. She looked completely frozen, as if she couldn't quite believe what was happening. Behind her, the sound of her mother's sobbing joined them. It appeared as if all of the Weasleys were there.
Hagrid, the groundskeeper, had been sitting on an enlarged chair. His wails could be heard from a mile away, he was using some kind of a tablecloth as a tissue.
It was a black day for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Classes were suspended indefinitely and the Hospital Wing was packed with people in different states of injury. Slytherin wasn't hit that hard, but plenty of its students still showed shock at what had transpired. The people from the other houses and almost all of the staff were wrecks though. Even the visitors looked disbelieving and gloomy. Fleur appeared to be genuinely sad.
The whole scene was heartbreaking, even so, the young man couldn't stay there blaming himself much longer. He still had one last thing to do. He continued watching the students leaving the ceremony, but he had lost sight of the person he was looking for. The young man had been paying attention to everyone walking back to the entrance, so that person had surely not returned to the castle yet.
He was surprised soon enough though. Back at the chairs and sitting completely alone he found his last objective, staring quietly at the now empty parquetry as if there was something still happening there.
The young man sighed and walked towards the rows of chairs, trying to keep himself concealed under the cloak. A few words and the first part of the plan would be over.