Nearly a week had gone by since Harry'd been moved from his family's house, and Tonks had still not returned to the Ministry. Sharlen was with Kingsley, absorbed in paperwork she could barely stomach; the guilt she felt upon hearing Alastor Moody had fallen in battle settled in the back of her throat like bile, constantly burning. Moody's body had still not been recovered.
When Sharlen had arrived at the Ministry the day after Harry had been relocated from the Dursleys's house to find out Moody had been murdered, she isolated herself. Lupin had lied to her, which she couldn't blame him for—she'd told him right off the bat that he shouldn't relay any information to her, but she knew she shouldn't have trusted him to change the date they were moving Harry. She should have turned herself in to Moody to ensure they changed it. The guilt that haunted her was palpable; the Death Eaters and her father had been waiting for them, a complete ambush, and Harry had escaped death by mere inches yet again. She'd barely spoken a word to anyone since then, sick with herself, and Tonks was too distraught to leave home.
Sharlen hadn't been sleeping. Occupied at the Ministry all day and up most nights to hunt with Piotr, little time was left—beyond that, she didn't want to sleep. Whenever she closed her eyes she was afraid of what visions she might be susceptible to, fearing the future. She feared she wasn't cut out for espionage—she should have done whatever she needed to ensure the date was changed. Even something drastic.
"Down," came Scrimgeour's voice, waking her from her self-loathing, "You're with me today."
Kingsley went to stand as well but Scrimgeour put out a hand. "No need Kingsley, I'm going to Potter. I need you here to take over for Alastor."
Sharlen's heart nearly fell out of her mouth as she looked up at the Minister, frightened. "Harry?" she parroted stupidly.
He nodded. "Dumbledore's will has been released. I want to see Potter myself. There's a complication with one of the items. Will you accompany me?"
Sharlen nodded greedily, her hands shaking. Kingsley watched her intensely, not sure she could handle seeing Harry. She stood and accompanied Scrimgeour out of the office without another word, her jaw set as she trembled. She didn't care to ask what Harry had been left in the will—it hardly mattered compared to the possibility of seeing him.
In the lobby, they met with Mr. Weasley, who looked frazzled. "I requested Arthur bring us along home with him tonight before he left for the day," Scrimgeour explained gruffly, shaking his hand.
"Hello, Mr. Weasley," Sharlen said quietly, partially hiding behind Scrimgeour.
Mr. Weasley gave her a smile and, despite his nervousness around Scrimgeour, said warmly, "Hello Sharlen. I'm glad to see you're well. Molly will want to see you have a decent meal—"
"There will be no time for that, Arthur. Let's be off, it will be dark soon," Scrimgeour interrupted. Sharlen smiled at Mr. Weasley as he shrugged sheepishly and followed the Minister.
When they Apparated outside the protective enchantments around the Burrow, Sharlen gasped at how brilliant the dusk looked over the hills. It was a beautiful, secluded, rural place, the kind of place she could easily see all the Weasley children growing up. They walked briskly for a minute before Mr. Weasley stopped awkwardly. "This is it," he muttered.
Scrimgeour turned to Sharlen and said firmly, "Wait here for me."
Sharlen nodded and the two men disappeared into the Burrow's enchantments, leaving her alone. She gaped openly at the surrounding landscape in the warm summer evening, wanting to sink down into the grass and sleep. She felt peaceful in her solitude for the first and only time since walking around the snowy Hogwarts grounds the previous winter. Harry was somewhere safe nearby, and she had never seen a place so sparse or so beautiful.
The meeting did not take very long. The trio of Gryffindors walked Scrimgeour to the edge of the enchantments, where they saw Sharlen waiting. They knew she couldn't see them, but Harry's jaw fell open regardless and he whipped out his wand. Ron and Hermione shared a tentative look. Following Scrimgeour beyond the enchantments and appearing before Sharlen, they saw her eyes widen briefly before she gave a small, fluttering sound and settled back into herself, her heart in her throat. She was wearing a Ministry badge over her battered black cloak. Her eyes were deeply sunken in, with heavy black bags underneath them. She was avoiding meeting their gazes.
"All set, Minister?" she asked Scrimgeour, chancing a glance up at him. He nodded curtly and stood beside her, facing the trio. He seemed to be in a very bad mood.
"What are you doing here?" Harry fired at her, and Scrimgeour frowned at the wand in his hand and how he stood protectively before Ron and Hermione.
Sharlen swallowed before answering. "I work for the Ministry as part of Scrimgeour's guard," she said carefully. Harry frowned deeply at her, the same gray pulse in his aura around his scar. "With Kingsley Shacklebolt."
"A petite witch barely of age made it into the Minister of Magic's personal guard?" Hermione snapped harshly. "Now that I find hard to believe."
"On the contrary Miss Granger," Scrimgeour drawled sharply, "Miss Down came highly recommended to the Ministry by Dumbledore himself. He came to speak with me a few weeks before he died. She passed her Apparition test the first time through, excelled in the Auror course, passed all her training, and her affinity for wordless, wandless spells makes her an asset in dueling combat. She's also been able to weed out anyone under the Imperius Curse. Despite certain… gaps in her records, she has proven herself very useful to the Auror Office." He paused and cleared his throat, turning to Sharlen. "She agreed to come along with me today. Higher-level Ministry employees are not advised to travel alone in the current climate."
Ron and Hermione were looking at Scrimgeour as if trying to decide if he himself had been Imperiused, but Harry was still glaring at Sharlen. "Oh, I'll bet she agreed to come along," he said icily. "Gaps in her records. You don't say," he added smartly.
"It hasn't been a problem," she muttered warningly.
Harry scoffed. "Never could listen to the requests of others, could you? I told you to stay away."
Sharlen looked at the ground and said nothing.
Scrimgeour bade them all farewell sourly and turned to leave, gesturing Sharlen to join him, but as his cloak swished out of sight and Sharlen was mid-turn, Harry dropped to the ground, writhing in pain.
Her breath catching in her throat, Sharlen stayed and watched Hermione and Ron fall down next to Harry, trying to shake him out of it. It looked like he was in extreme pain, gripping his forehead, breathing heavily, and shaking. Frozen, Sharlen watched, eyes flitting rapidly over the scene, scanning the area for assailants, but they were alone. Hermione was gripping Harry's shoulder tightly. "What's wrong with him?" Sharlen exclaimed once she found her voice.
"Oh, don't pretend that you care," Ron shot at her darkly.
"Ron, please," Sharlen said, trying to keep calm.
"He's seeing something," Hermione cried, still shaking Harry, "Something You-Know-Who is doing."
Sharlen ran up and knelt in front of Harry, closer than he'd allowed her to be for months. Ron loomed over them, pale, Hermione with Harry's head in her lap as she tried to shake him out of it. Harry moaned in agony, hands gripping his head and teeth clenched. "How long has this been happening?" Sharlen demanded of Hermione.
She shook her head angrily, meeting her gaze. "This has been going on for years now," Hermione said hopelessly. "That's why he was in Occlumency lessons with Snape, to help try and block these out."
"He's vulnerable to the Dark Lord already, he can't give in to these visions…" Sharlen muttered, staring wildly at Harry, both hands gripping his arms. He had no idea she or any of them were there.
"You mean your dear old dad, right?" Ron spat at her, a little uglier than he might've intended. Sharlen gave him a pleading look just as Harry cried out again.
"Oh, please!" Hermione shouted, finally having had enough. Sharlen threw a quick glance to her and back to Harry, staring horrified, unsure of what to do. "Please Harry, shut it out! Tell us what you're seeing!"
Unable to stand seeing Harry or Hermione in pain any longer, Sharlen removed her gloves hastily and put both hands on Harry's face, caressing his jaw. Her senses were quickly flooded by the images he saw—they were in a dungeon with Ollivander, the wandmaker. Sharlen was extremely confused as she continued to watch the old man shout, pleading ignorance and writhing in pain on the floor. Sharlen couldn't feel the pain he experienced, but she figured Harry could.
After several seconds, it was over. Panting, she blinked her eyes several times to find Harry's green ones boring intensely into her. She released him as if she'd been burned and scrambled back a few steps away, thinking he may attack her. Ron and Hermione were watching her too as they helped Harry off the ground. He was pale with a sheen across his face from sweat, jaw clenched, still trying to process what he'd seen. Sharlen hurriedly replaced her gloves, glancing nervously between the three of them.
"Harry," Hermione said, gripping his arm, "Harry, what did you see?"
"It was nothing, Hermione, I'm fine," he said finally, gently removing her arm and never once looking away from Sharlen. She gave him a pleading look and shook her head slowly.
"'It was nothing' because I'm here and you don't want me to find out, or 'it was nothing' because you're a fucking martyr after all?" Sharlen asked quietly. Harry's nostrils flared with his harsh inhale, but he said nothing. Sharlen saw Hermione's dread rise up inside her. "They're trying to help you."
Ron's expression was much easier on her now that Harry was back with them, and he said with one hand still on Harry's shoulder to steady him, "You have to start telling us what you're seeing, mate. If you're going to let him in, you have to keep us in the loop with what we—have to do…" Ron clearly was unsure how much to say in front of Sharlen.
Sharlen stared at Harry, confused and on the brink of outrage. "You don't tell them? Really? You've been letting him in all this time and you haven't been telling them?"
"I can't always control it!" Harry screamed at her, advancing a few steps forward. Sharlen couldn't see anything past the enchantments surrounding the Burrow, but Ginny was a few hundred yards away, watching with her jaw set. She started making her way over to them, and Sharlen refused to move. "And I don't know what's real and what isn't! Sirius is dead because of this poison your dad sends me!" Breathing hard, he continued to glare at her. Behind him, silent tears started to fall from Hermione's eyes. Without dropping her gaze from Harry's, Sharlen handed her a handkerchief.
"You must learn to control it," Sharlen said easily, strangely calm despite not seeing him for weeks.
"Don't you dare," he replied carefully, eyes narrowed with pain. "Don't you bloody dare tell me what I have to do."
"Harry please," Hermione pleaded again. "Please, we know you saw something."
"Drop it Hermione!" he shouted behind him. Ron's frown deepened slightly.
"Lay off her, mate."
"It was Ollivander, the wandmaker," Sharlen said coolly. Harry's jaw dropped ever so slightly. "They're torturing him for information."
"What would they want out of Ollivander?" Ron exclaimed bluntly, "And why would he want to show you that?"
"I don't think he meant for Harry to see that," Sharlen answered, still staring Harry down. So far he was still speechless. "If anything this is a hint Harry isn't meant to have. Their connection must be strong enough that Harry has a way inside his mind, too, whenever a powerful emotion links them. In this case, anger."
Ginny appeared beyond the threshold of the enchantments and stood firmly at Harry's side, glowering. Sharlen averted her gaze, her heart throbbing painfully. Seeing them together, she realized they were dressed as they had been in her vision of them passionately kissing. Tears burning in her throat, it occurred to her that it must have happened earlier in the day. Her eyes instantly watered as they flitted between them.
"It's lucky this didn't happen while Scrimgeour was still here..." Hermione said, composing herself and watching Sharlen curiously.
"How the hell did you know what I was seeing?" Harry asked angrily. "How could you possibly see that?"
"I don't know," Sharlen admitted. She straightened her gloves anxiously. "I didn't know what would happen if I touched you, I just wanted your pain to stop. I think because we're both connected to him, I can access what visions you get as you're receiving them. Like a link."
"Wicked," whispered Ron.
"Before you even start, Hermione," Harry said quickly, turning to face her. Her mouth was, indeed, open as if she were about to speak. "I didn't want to tell you they'd gotten worse because I know I'm supposed to be in control and working on them. Dumbledore wanted this. I have been trying, but something's different now. I can't control it." Hermione just nodded sadly, processing.
He turned around to face Sharlen again. "Did you feel it?" he asked, and she shook her head.
"No."
"Feel? You could feel it Harry?" Hermione gasped.
"My scar just burned," he exclaimed, defeated. "Like my head was splitting in two."
"I didn't feel a thing," Sharlen said.
"Because when you touched me, it halved," he said carefully. Ginny looked at him, confused.
Sharlen blanched. "How?" Harry just shrugged. He was so weary of her now. It was awful.
"Good to know Voldemort has already infiltrated the Ministry," Harry growled, his anger spreading the longer she stood there. But underneath the anger, tinges of red close to his body—longing. "You must have really pleased your father to have risen so high."
Sharlen wanted to chase that longing he couldn't hide from her all the way back to the previous winter. "My father doesn't know—" she began, but she could see a lost cause when it was glaring at her from two feet away. She stopped herself, fists clenched.
When it became clear no one was going to say anything further, Sharlen looked once more at the ground, then turned and Apparated without a sound.
Scrimgeour was not pleased that she had stayed behind at the Burrow, and she apologized in a hollow voice, saying there had been an altercation. "That Potter boy is unstable and stubborn," he had warned her, leaning closer. "The less involved with him you are, the better. He has been nothing shy of maddening throughout this entire process. We have work to do."
She'd nodded and followed him to find Kingsley for the night guard. They were stationed at the doors of yet another courtroom. Kingsley leaned over to her and asked in his slow, deep voice, "How did the Burrow look? For the wedding?"
"What?" Sharlen asked, startled.
"For the wedding! It's tomorrow. Arthur said Molly's got all the kids working nonstop to get it together."
"I…" she muttered, looking at the ground. "I stayed outside the enchantments. I didn't see the house itself."
Kingsley nodded and straightened up a little. "I gave my apologies to the bride and groom, but I'll be working."
"Me too," she said with a little smile. Kingsley returned it before facing forward, surveying the small audience assembled.
Sharlen wished they would keep her for the overnight guard so she wouldn't be left alone to replay the image of Harry and Ginny kissing over and over again mercilessly, but when she departed that night to return home she knew she couldn't risk her father showing up when she was absent. When she walked in the door, Snape stood to greet her. "I want to know where you've been going," he said firmly.
"No, you don't," she muttered miserably, making to walk around him toward the stairs.
"You have very simple orders from The Dark Lord to remain here at all times," he said through gritted teeth, blocking her way.
"Not true," she said quietly, looking at the stairs beyond his torso, "I'm allowed to go to the Malfoys'."
"But you haven't been," Snape said a little louder, quickly becoming frustrated.
"Maybe I have." She had no fight in her.
"Look at me," he ordered, a hand finding her chin and forcing her face upward. She looked up at him, pale eyes lightless. "What is the matter with you?"
"I'm fine," she muttered, tearing her face from his hand and shaking off the vision of him in his Hogwarts office. She took a step back. "I'm tired. I have to hunt with Piotr before bed."
"You're not going anywhere until you've answered my question!" he shouted, trying to spark a reaction out of her. She glanced around him to see in his aura that he was nervous by how she was acting. She didn't care to harbor it.
"I'm tired. Please—" she started, but he backhanded her in the mouth. Shocked, she stumbled backward, holding her face. Snape seized the front of her robes, holding her up, his eyes boring into hers. She was so consumed with Harry and Ginny and surprised by the hit that she wasn't able to clear her mind quickly enough, and it was half-hearted anyway.
Snape released her and looked away, standing very still. She was embarrassed, knowing what he must have seen. She blinked back tears brought to the surface by being struck and folded herself as small as possible past him up the stairs, careful not to brush him.
Closing the door to her bedroom behind her, she waved her left hand to lock it, brushing tears away with her other wrist. Piotr was waiting for her on the window sill and she sat next to him. As usual, he stepped lightly onto her lap and pressed his head against her stomach. Sharlen lightly brushed his feathers and looked out at the moon, absently reaching her right hand up to run along the thin scar left from when Harry tore the amber necklace from her neck. The moon would be full in a few days, and she thought of how conflicted Lupin must feel—newly married, newly mourning Moody, worried about what Harry would be setting off to do, and burdened as the sole keeper of all her secrets.
Piotr hooted and stretched his wings and she obliged him, transforming and following him out amongst the trees. They were only out for an hour before Sharlen conceded to return, too tired to resist sleep any further. She undressed and slithered under her duvet, folding her little black book against her chest and curling up as small as possible.
She tried not to think of Harry and Ginny kissing. She tried not to think about them seated at a long table full of Weasleys and guests, holding hands under the table. She tried not to think of them getting closer as the days went by, but her speculations were getting wilder and wilder.
Biting her lip to stifle a sob, Sharlen realized that during their altercation earlier she hadn't remembered what day it was. She reached off the side of the bed beside the stack of books and grabbed a quill, dipping it in the ink bottle against the wall before settling back on the bed. Cradling her book like a small animal, she opened to the most recent page and wrote, 'Happy birthday.'
All the next day, Sharlen was in a fog. It had occurred to her that after the wedding, it was likely Harry, Ron, and Hermione would be going off to find Horcruxes—she was relatively sure Ron and Hermione's families had no idea what they were planning to do. She struggled to stay focused throughout her training in the morning, though the Aurors training her actually seemed more impressed that she was more reserved and stony than usual. She missed Tonks's friendly presence she'd enjoyed for so little time, desperately wanting someone to talk to about her heartache. She missed Stacey most of all.
They told her to take a small break afterward but Sharlen went to the restroom to wash off before getting back to work. She looked in the mirror and hardly recognized herself at first. The skin around her eyes almost looked bruised and she took a damp washcloth to her skin as if trying to wash it all away. Her pale eyes looked dim, her hair limp and stringy. What he must have thought, seeing me yesterday… she thought without meaning to. She winced and turned away from the mirror, feeling disgusted with herself. She couldn't lose focus of helping Harry just because he wanted nothing to do with her. She would have to do more, she reasoned. When her training period with the Aurors was completed, she could spend more time trying to find the remaining Horcruxes and destroy them.
She and Kingsley went with the Minister to three meetings, one with the editor-in-chief of the Daily Prophet, one with the warden of Azkaban, and the last with the High Council for International Cooperation, who had evidence that Voldemort had been abroad as of late. Sharlen focused her attention wholly on the meeting before her as she and Kingsley barred the doors, on high alert for any interference. It was suggested that the following weekend, several Aurors further investigate the areas in question.
"I'd be happy to volunteer if needed, Minister," she told him as they got back into the Ministry. Arriving at the second floor, Scrimgeour shook his grizzly-maned head.
"No," he said gruffly, "you're still completing your training, and I need my best people here in London." He gave her a quick, smile-less wink as he walked into the Auror Office in front of Kingsley.
Sharlen gave a weak smile as the door closed behind them, lingering in the open hallway. It had felt like the longest day and they had two more meetings to attend before she could go home for the night. Leaning against the wall, she put a hand to her eyes, running it down to her mouth, conceding that she would need to find real food soon if she was going to stay sharp.
She opened her eyes slowly, straightening up to head inside, but a cloaked figure caught her eye coming out of the lift. As she turned her head for a better look, her eyes widened in unison with Snape's hood sliding back off his head, showing his face. She stared at him horrified, half sure he was about to try to kill her, as he strode forward from the lift gates to the other side of the lobby, right past her, his cold eyes not leaving hers. Then he Disapparated.
Sharlen jumped and gasped—the only part of the Ministry you were supposed to be able to Apparate to or from was the Atrium where the fireplaces were. Suddenly breathing hard as though winded, her eyes darting from one side of the lobby to the other, she heard the familiar sounds of the lifts moving. When it sank in that the Death Eaters must have taken over the Magical Transportation department, she flung herself backward into the Auror Office.
Looking completely crazed, she alerted the others as the doors swung shut behind her. "Death Eaters! They're here in the Ministry!"
The door was blasted off its hinges as the last syllable hung in the air, slamming her into the adjacent wall. A shard of the wooden door slammed into her face, cutting her deeply above the brow, narrowly missing her left eye; immediately she was blinking back blood. Hoards of Death Eaters were swarming into the Auror Office, spells flying in every direction, and even more were Apparating into the room. Off to the side, they hadn't seemed to notice Sharlen right away—she crouched low and shot out her hands toward the nearest two, sending them flying forward into two others already dueling with Dawlish and McKinley. All four toppled over each other and she saw one wand snap—with great difficulty, she forced the pile of them across the room and through the wall into the Auror's training room.
Knowing she'd drawn attention to herself, Sharlen dashed to the left to avoid a blue flash of light, rolling between two wizards dueling—in the quick flash and with blood obscuring her vision, it was impossible to tell who of them was friend or foe. Dodging spells of red and green, Sharlen dove behind the nearest desk and peered around, looking for Scrimgeour.
The power of five Death Eaters on him, the Minister was against the back wall with Hestia Jones and Kingsley, and the Death Eaters opposing them were giving no mercy; among them was Yaxley, his blond ponytail secure at the nape of his neck. With a small grunt of effort, Sharlen transformed and flew into the face of the nearest Death Eater, sending him whirling into one of his fellows and falling momentarily to the ground. She appeared above Scrimgeour and transformed, slashing her right arm through the air and casting the purple fire spell. The closest Death Eater crumpled unconscious to the floor and she did the same with her left arm to the man at Yaxley's right, her free arm up to shield the Minister. Scrimgeour tried again to Stun Yaxley, but missed.
"You need to leave! Apparate out of here, there are too many!" she shouted back at him, casting Protego twice around their group protecting the Minister.
Scrimgeour was too busy dueling Yaxley to answer her, or was stubbornly ignoring being told to flee by a seventeen-year-old witch. Frustrated, she shouted Expulso! in her mind and the floor beneath two converging Death Eaters exploded, both of them collapsing through the floor to the level below. Kingsley had three Death Eaters on him and Sharlen turned to assist when Yaxley charged her. Her right hand met his chest and she shocked him again, throwing him back as he cast the Killing Curse. It flew over Sharlen's shoulder in the chaos of the fray and hit Scrimgeour full in the chest.
The second Sharlen could afford to watch Scrimgeour fall felt like an eternity; with a grimace and blank eyes fixed on her, he fell backward into an unmoving heap on the ground, never to move again. She whipped back around with a distressed pant, rising to stand, rushing in front of Kingsley and using the Impedimenta jinx on the three baring down on him. Kingsley shouted, "Confringo!" as they slowed, blasting them backward in an impressive explosion. Two more rose up from the battle to take their place as Yaxley stood in triumph just long enough for her to Stun him.
"Kingsley, go!" Sharlen screamed, both hands up to shield him. This is what she'd dreamed all those months ago, the familiar uncanny of a vision taking place before her running through. Blinking blood from his eyes as well, Kingsley stared at her completely bewildered. She hoped desperately that no one had Confunded him. "They'll head straight for the Burrows, for Harry! You need to warn them all, now!" Kingsley gathered himself and nodded, heading for an exit so he could more safely send a message. Sharlen watched him go with panic in her eyes, throwing the two Death Eaters she held across the room. A third came at her from behind, and she Disapparated across the room, Stunning him from the side. Within the span of a few rapid breaths Sharlen stood at the ready but the battle went on despite her. She found she couldn't trust that Kingsley would make it out unscathed and ran the way he'd gone to cover him if she could.
A scream got lost in her throat when she caught sight of Bellatrix, who had joined the fight, cackling delightedly as she threw the Killing Curse all around. Sharlen changed direction violently, stumbling as she ran full-force in the opposite direction and hoping Bellatrix hadn't caught sight of her.
She prayed Kingsley's message would get there in time. She thought of Harry, unsuspecting with the other guests at the wedding, and felt sick with apprehension. 'And to think, I wanted to be his date at that wedding, and we'd all be dead.'
Slamming the door shut behind her, Kingsley flew around with his wand pointed at her and the sleeve of his robe up to stem the blood flowing from his head wound. Sharlen froze. "Did you warn them?" she asked quickly.
Kingsley nodded, lowering his wand slightly. "I sent a Patronus. How did you know they were coming?" he asked her suspiciously, urgently. The office was dark and disheveled and the battle raged beyond its walls.
"Snape," Sharlen breathed, half-expecting the door to burst open at any moment. "I saw him exit the lift and knew the others had to be close behind him. He Disapparated quickly once I'd seen him."
"Seems like he was warning you," Kingsley mused darkly.
"Kingsley, Snape is a Death Eater," she pleaded with him. "He killed Dumbledore. It's more likely that he didn't want to be the one to kill me than he was warning me." She couldn't even exercise the possibility of the latter—even now she had no reason to believe he wasn't elsewhere in the belly of the Ministry. He didn't seem convinced. "We have to get anyone we can out of here, the Ministry is lost. Everyone we care about is at that wedding right now. We have to make sure they're okay. You have to take me there!"
"You're right," he agreed with his hands up. "Hold on to me."
Sharlen reached up to hold onto his arm and they turned on the spot, sent into a scene of even more chaos.
The two immediately had to duck out of the way of flying spells and hexes as soon as their feet hit the ground, then Kingsley took off into the fray. Sharlen lost sight of him in the rush of Death Eaters and who remained of the wedding guests—mercifully, it seemed many of them had managed to Apparate away, and she couldn't see Harry, Ron, or Hermione anywhere. Most of the Death Eaters, she knew, were swarming the Ministry.
"Crucio!" came a voice from behind her and as soon as the curse met her ears she felt as though every square inch of her body was engulfed in dragon fire; she tried not to scream but was powerless against it. She fell to her knees and then to her back, the pain taking over every other sensation her body had once known, erasing her consciousness. His was worse than Snape's had ever been—all she knew was pain. She could hear the man laughing, which enraged her—and just like that, the pain ended.
"You'd curse a lady behind her back?" Sharlen shouted, shoving her hands forward roughly and throwing him back into the man Lupin was duelling. She was on her feet as they tried to disentangle themselves and used the Incarcerous spell on both of them, making sure they were fully disengaged. Lupin summoned their wands, secured their bonds, and rushed over to Sharlen.
"You okay?" he asked hurriedly. She nodded, sending a spell over his shoulder.
"Harry, where…?" she panted, looking around wildly. She wiped her eyes with frustration, tearing up constantly from the blood stinging as it flowed into her left eye.
"Those three are gone, I told them to leave," he assured her, grabbing her arm.
All around them, the Death Eaters were stopping and Disapparating. Cautiously, the members of the Order held their fire once they were alone and waited. Sharlen whipped around to Molly and Arthur Weasley, who had been duelling back to back. "They must have been called back, to the Ministry. Protective enchantments, everyone," she said firmly, holding up her hands, not trusting the sudden hush.
"Get away from my family, now," Ginny said scathingly, her wand to Sharlen's throat as she stepped forward. Sharlen held up her hands higher to ward her off.
"Ginny. I'm here to help," she said carefully, glancing around at the others for backup. Her cut eye was now stinging badly enough to make her wince, and she fought to keep it on Ginny. The blood now covered half her face.
She wasn't letting down. Ginny took a menacing step forward and Sharlen was forced to step back, the wand tip digging into the top of her sternum. "Ginny, that is enough!" Molly shouted, grabbing her free arm.
"I told you to leave," Ginny growled. Nothing but hatred pulsed in her aura.
"She's the one who had me send the warning to you," Kingsley said firmly as Tonks attempted to close the wound on his head. "What's gotten into you?"
"It's a long story, Kingsley," Sharen said darkly, her eyes not moving from Ginny's. "I'm not your enemy, Ginny," she said meaningfully.
Ginny laughed humorlessly, still walking forward menacingly. Lupin had his wand ready in the wings, watching the girls carefully. "You know if Harry had still been here when you showed up, he would have killed you," she said, her voice low.
Voices around them rang up in opposition, but Sharlen only saw Ginny.
"How dare you. Harry Potter is not a killer," Sharlen said firmly, loudly, standing her ground. The tip of Ginny's wand was singeing her skin, making her wince. "And neither are you." Ginny's scowl deepened but she did not move. Sharlen let a beat or two go by before she moved Ginny's wand aside, revealing a deep red burn at the base of her throat. She turned to Lupin as Molly pulled her daughter back sternly. "I'll be in touch. He'll be expecting me. I'll report whatever I can find out to you." Sharlen took off her Ministry badge and robes and handed them to Kingsley sadly. "Thank you for working with me. I'm just sorry I couldn't do more."
Kingsley stared at her, bewildered. "Where are you going? You can't go back to the Ministry, it's crawling with Death Eaters. We can't go back."
"No, we can't," she said regretfully, sighing. "The others will explain. I can't stay here. He can't know I'm gone. Snape already saw me at the Ministry, there's a chance he's already told him."
Lupin grabbed her arm again. "If that's true, you can't go back. He'll kill you. You have to stay with us, at one of the safe houses."
Sharlen shook her head. "I'd only be a danger to you. He wouldn't rest until he found me. I'll be okay, I don't want you concerned about me." She took his hand from her arm in a way she hoped was reassuring. "I will contact you soon, when I have news."
Mrs. Weasley passed Ginny to her husband and bustled forward to take Sharlen by the shoulders. "You must stay," she said firmly, fretful eyes boring into hers. "You can't go back to them. What if the others saw you in the Ministry? What if they recognize you?"
Sharlen looked at the ground, finding it too difficult to say no to the mother whose son had just disappeared possibly to never be seen again. "It's not a question. I have to go. It is too dangerous for me to be anywhere near all of you."
Mrs. Weasley didn't seem eager to accept this. "Will you clean this up, please? If they don't know, this would tip them off," Sharlen added, gesturing to what remained of the cut above her brow after Tonk's attempt. Mrs. Weasley obliged her, sealing the skin and siphoning off the blood from her face.
She stepped back out of Mrs. Weasley's grasp. "You need new protective enchantments, now. Right after I go. They may come back." She gave the now tearful Mrs. Weasley a small reassuring nod and Disapparated to Malfoy Manor.
She figured Lucius and Draco would be at the Ministry with Bellatrix, though she hadn't seen them, but when she entered the foyer of the manor she found the whole Malfoy family in the dining room, not speaking to each other. She pulled up the collar of her shirt over the burn from Ginny's wand, and they stood to greet her. "My Master left," she said as an explanation. "I thought he might be here."
"He's with Bellatrix," Lucius said quietly. "At the Ministry."
She played dumb, eyes narrowing. "The Ministry? Is the takeover tonight?" Lucius nodded. "Why aren't you with them?"
Clearly stung, his eyes narrowed further. "The Dark Lord thought it would be more prudent for us to remain here. There is a meeting late tonight."
Sharlen wanted to chuckle but kept her face straight. "I suppose I shouldn't have come. I'll go back home and wait for Master Severus." She turned to go, but Draco was the next to speak.
"You could stay," he said quickly, walking around the table toward her. She looked up at him as he came closer. "They won't be here for a while and they don't have to see you. Let's go upstairs."
Suspicious, as these were the first words he'd spoken to her since before Dumbledore's death, she followed him out of the room and up the winding, wrought-iron staircase.
Draco allowed her into the room before him and closed the door behind them. Sharlen looked around patiently—she hadn't seen Draco's room since they were very young. It was now as ornate as the rest of the manor, decorated with silver instruments and accoutrements, many of them decorated with snakes to show their family's house pride. Mounted on the wall was his Nimbus 2001. "How… how are you?" he asked, stuttering a little. This was not a Draco she'd ever known—almost no trace of his previous smugness existed.
"Don't I look well?" she asked smartly, faking a smile, knowing how horrible she must look since he'd last seen her. She walked past him to examine a sparse bookshelf, his eyes following her. "Why did you want me to come here?"
Draco cleared his throat, his hands in his pockets. "It's strange, not going back to Hogwarts, isn't it?" Sharlen turned to face him, but he was looking at the dark hardwood. "I guess less so for you, you only got one year there…"
"I plan to go back," she told him. His eyes met hers. "I have unfinished business there."
"But all the teachers know what you are," he said, stepping closer. She took a giant step back.
"What I am?" she asked incredulously, brow furrowed angrily.
"That's not—you know what I meant," he said, aggravated with himself. "It's not safe for you to go back there."
"Use your head, Draco," she hissed, "We've taken over the Ministry tonight. Hogwarts will be under my father's control."
He fell silent, thinking. Sharlen rolled her eyes and made to leave, but Draco stepped before her. "Where are you going?"
"I'm going home to wait for instructions," she said simply, arms crossed. "Clearly nothing is happening here. I might as well be elsewhere."
"Aren't you tired of being alone?" Draco asked, his eyes wide. He reached out for her hands but she didn't give them up. Her gloves had been misplaced in the fighting. "How did you stand being on your own for all those years?"
"I had nothing to compare it to, you know," she said defensively, confused by how affected he seemed. "I'd always been alone. I had nothing to miss."
"So you weren't… lonely or sad?"
"Not really…" she said carefully, glancing out the window. The moon was bright outside, nearly full. "I only had Harry to miss and after so many years it all just starts to seem like a good dream. I read, mostly."
"But now you do, right? Now you have plenty to miss." His words stung but she couldn't show him just how much. "Now you feel lonely, don't you?"
"My choices were my own," she muttered truthfully. "I knew what I was doing, same as you."
Draco nodded and fell silent. She raised an eyebrow at him, finally understanding. "You don't want to be here, do you?"
He stuffed his hands back into his pockets. "It's just strange to not be going back. Everything's different now."
"You had to know that once you made attempts to kill Dumbledore you wouldn't be able to go back," she said harshly, having little patience for him after watching the Minister of Magic die a mere hour beforehand. Draco looked like he had been punched in the gut. "What did you think would happen, you'd attempt to assassinate the headmaster and join the dark side and you'd just be going right back to Hogwarts to bully first years with your idiot friends?"
"You know I had no choice—" he began to protest, but Sharlen ran at him and slammed him up against the wall, her forearm against his chest, so fed up with his whining and self-obsession when she was attempting to hold the weight of both worlds on her shoulders and all she wanted to know in the entire universe at that moment was confirmation that Harry was alive and safe.
"There is always a choice," she growled, releasing him and flinging the door open. She let it slam shut behind her and made her way to the foyer. Narcissa was there, pacing.
"They should be here soon," she said. Sharlen nodded and Apparated back to Snape's house.
For three hours, Sharlen waited outside among the trees with Piotr, who was happily hunting and rustling up against her, glad she was home. Agitated by the lack of news, Sharlen grew more anxious by the minute. She should have risked going back to the Ministry to try and find Snape and Confund him—she couldn't be sure he wouldn't tell her father she'd been in the Ministry, in Auror robes, when he arrived for the attack. But the Ministry was huge, and she had no guarantee he was even there after Disapparating, let alone where.
If he told Voldemort, she was most certainly done for—in which case waiting around for him to reappear, vaguely keeping Piotr company for something to do, was a completely senseless thing. Alternatively, if he had kept her secret, she was baffled as to why he would; his loyalty was to his master, not to the creation he'd been tasked to raise.
As they flew around the neighborhood, Sharlen thought fretfully of her options. If her father had been told, she would need to come up with an alibi—would it be realistic for her to pretend she had attempted to infiltrate the Ministry on her own to gather information? Not if one of the Death Eaters had seen her or mentioned someone of her description had been fighting alongside the Aurors. Even still she would be punished for going behind her father's back.
But what of the truth? Her father had laughingly allowed her to return to Hogwarts with the sole purpose of reuniting with and helping Harry, but she was almost positive he would not be so lenient of this kind of betrayal of their side. He'd either keep her locked up for good, attempt to reeducate her, or kill her, and she was no use to Harry dead.
She couldn't bank on Snape keeping her secret. That would be the most baffling of all outcomes, although there was still a possibility he hadn't had the chance to do so yet and she could find a window to Confund him. The night grew thinner and the stress burrowed further into her chest, weighing her down. It was almost unbearable that they had not returned to her yet with news, or verdict.
Around two in the morning, Sharlen thought seriously about flying away with Piotr and going into hiding. It would be harder to help Harry find the Horcruxes if she had no access to either side, but that's what he would be doing… and she could stop pretending anything else was important. No more acting, no more lying, no more scrutinizing what to tell who and when to do what. Yet still the possibility that Snape had kept her secret rooted her to the house, where she would be expected to be when they returned.
It was well past three a.m. before Snape and Voldemort showed up at the house, triumph radiating from her father mercilessly. Sharlen had to force herself not to race down the stairs when she heard them—pretending to have been asleep, she descended with great effort to keep her limbs slow. She shook in anticipation—Snape's aura showed he was tired and unforgiving, which she assumed was due to her betrayal. Her father's aura was lost to her, and the smile he gave her could have meant any number of things to come.
"I went to the Malfoys earlier," she told them, keeping her voice low to try and hide any nervous shaking. "They told me you were at the Ministry."
"Scrimgeour is dead," Voldemort said with a wicked grin. "The Auror Office lost many nonbelievers tonight, and the Ministry of Magic is mine at last."
Lips tightly closed, she turned up the corners of her mouth to her father. She wasn't meeting Snape's eyes. "Congratulations, father. You must be pleased."
"Big changes are coming…" he said, walking toward her. He reached his cold, long fingers to her cheek and watched her wide eyes become white as her pupils shrank and irises paledover white. "Sooner than you think, we will have Potter, and you can be free," she heard him say over the vision she saw of him encased in the Priori Incantatem with Harry several years ago. She wanted to flinch away but forced herself to stay very still, watching Harry's parents emerge from the tip of her father's wand. She held her breath to try and dissuade tears. "Your Master will be taking over as headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We will reinstate lost practices of educating young witches and wizards that have been diluted and forgone with the addition of those unpure."
He lowered his hand from her face and as the room swam back into view, she finally made eye contact with Snape. His stare was hollow as he stood waiting. She shook her head. "Just what that school needs, of course," she said a little breathlessly, trying to hold a silent conversation between them. She kept her mind blank as he stared at her, but he said nothing. "What do you need from me, father?"
"I need you to sit tight a little longer, Sharlen," he said quietly, gesturing around the living room. "Until Potter is killed, it's not safe for you outside our protection."
"I don't understand," she said, stepping down closer to him. He watched her patiently. "I was close to him all year, all the Hogwarts professors knew who I was and they did nothing to harm me. Why do you think they would now just because Potter knows who I am?"
"Because your friend Draco made Severus come into the light as being faithful to our cause," he said coldly. "He is the reason you cannot be guaranteed safety in this world right now. Once Severus killed Dumbledore, anyone who knew about you changed their minds about you. They wish you harm. Surely you can see how that would happen." Sharlen nodded, falling back slightly. He reached forward and grabbed her chin, pulling her face up roughly. "I need to keep you safe," he said quietly, dangerously. "Until the day comes that I am unopposed, you are to stay where I can keep an eye on you. Am I clear?"
Sharlen couldn't see past the vision of him torturing Ollivander, all-too-familiar since she first saw it through Harry the day before, but she nodded with great difficulty, her father's grip on her chin unnecessarily tight. He released her and turned to Snape, saying they had to meet with the Carrows the next day to set their regime in place before he bid Sharlen goodnight and left to go back to the Malfoys'.
Left alone, Sharlen waited for Snape to say something first. He considered her for several minutes silently, time stretching between them painfully. Sharlen thought she saw something angry in his stare, but couldn't be sure; his aura showed hints of admiration. Finally he said in his quiet drawl, "It's a dangerous game you're playing, Sharlen…"
She swallowed hard, her mouth very dry. "You didn't tell him you saw me."
"I had a feeling what you were doing," he admitted, "Though I was... startled to see I'd been right."
"How did you know?" she asked, businesslike.
"You're not inconspicuous," he told her, "And you're not hard to follow."
"What gave me away?"
"Leaving before dawn and returning before midnight, physical exhaustion, not pushing too hard for your freedoms—particularly unlike you…" he muttered, still watching her carefully. She knew she wasn't safe yet. "You would still need to be partially in the dark, especially with the Death Eaters."
"That's still a lot to put to—"
"You got very lucky," he interrupted her, "If The Dark Lord had come calling even once when you were not here, you would have been punished."
"You would have been too," she said quietly.
"I have a higher rank in this war than you take me for. You are of age and you're expected to be able to account for yourself and follow orders. I would hardly be scorned for not watching you twenty-four hours a day."
"But if I'd been hurt or killed, that would be a different story." Snape set his jaw, his face melting into a soft glare. "Have you... been keeping him off my scent?"
"Were you aiding the Aurors?" he asked outright, avoiding her suggestion. His hands made fists, loosened, and made them again several times. She got the distinct impression he was feeling violent, or perhaps not wanting to need to act violently.
"No," she lied calmly, "Hindering them."
"You were not instructed to insert yourself into that situation whatsoever. If you'd been found out, you would have been kept captive." It was clear he didn't believe her lie.
"I wanted to be useful," she said, continuing the lie regardless of his disbelief. "I thought since no one knew of me and I'd done well in the course, I could get close enough in the Ministry to disable the protective enchantments on the members of the Order of the Phoenix."
Snape's aura changed, clouded by light brown confusion. Now he wasn't sure what was true or not. She smirked, pleased with herself, not able to believe her luck. "To what end?"
"What other end is there?" she asked, a hint of innocence in her voice. "To reveal and expose Potter so my father can kill him. I want my freedom."
Judging from the spreading disbelief in Snape's aura and the undeniable look of pain in his eyes, she thought he might have been remembering the vision of Ginny and Harry he'd read in her mind the night before. That seemed as though it had been months ago now. She pressed on, hoping to cover herself. "You'll be going back to Hogwarts, then?"
Snape nodded once, curtly. "You are to stay with the Malfoys when the start of term begins."
"I won't be going with you?" she asked, a genuine question.
"Of course not. It's too dangerous for you in that castle, you heard The Dark Lord."
"Even with you in charge and the other Death Eaters with you?"
"Even then, the other professors would likely do anything they could to protect the other students from you, not to mention what the others students would feel compelled to do to you."
"Why do you both think I can't take care of myself?" Sharlen asked suddenly, feeling bold. It was late, she was exhausted, and she hadn't even begun to process the events of the night. "I made it through Auror training, I am more than capable. It's like you just said, I can account for myself and follow orders. I don't need to be locked away."
"On the contrary, you are extremely fragile. You have proven that your entire life," Snape muttered harshly. Sharlen could not understand what he meant. "I would be happiest keeping you away from people forever. You need more protection than I think you'd like to accept."
Truly baffled but not wanting to push her circumstance too far, Sharlen turned back up the stairs and went to her room. She walked mechanically to the closet to finish bottling her potion, making sure her flask was full. As she took a sip, she wondered what Snape could have been talking about. Her love for Harry? She had told him her relationship with Harry had been fake, in her father's best interest… did he not believe her?
