Dereliction of Duty
Chapter 3 – Kingsley Shacklebolt

The boy blames himself. It's obvious.

I don't know how it is that Lupin doesn't see it, or that he's taken so long to notice that the boy is hurting. He blames himself for Cedric Diggory's death. For Sirius' death. For Dumbledore's death.

For his parents' death.

They all died, in his mind, because of him.

It's high time that Potter realizes that all of us – except Diggory's boy – know the risk we are taking, and chose the risk we are taking. He's not responsible for us. He's not responsible for any of us. And he has no right to deny us that choice! None! He's not the only one who has lost people, who has lost innocence, who has been forced to make difficult choices.

But he's the only one who, in the end, can deal the killing blow.

And I'm afraid – so afraid – that knowing that is killing him. What not-yet seventeen year old boy wouldn't go crazy at the thought of having to commit murder or let thousands of innocent people die?

All this over a terrorist. Just one more cowardly terrorist.

And for some reason, only Harry's friends can do right by the boy. None of the adults in his life know what he needs. Molly coddles him and tries to shelter him, though he has been far beyond sheltering all his life. Arthur – well, I'm not quite sure what Arthur does. He seems to treat him as an equal, and I find that a wise thing to do, but he does not treat him like a loved one, as well. And that's foolish. I know Molly and Arthur love the boy. He is, in their heart of hearts, their seventh son.

Remus – well, Remus seems to be wising up. I saw him walk into the room Harry was in earlier with a determined sort of look on his face. It's about time.

But Sirius…

Sirius didn't realize that, as unsheltered as the boy is, as independent as the boy is, he still needs a trustworthy, reliable adult to turn to. Sirius couldn't give him that. He could only – or so it seemed to this nosy outsider – give him a friend. And Harry already has many friends.

And Dumbledore.

I don't understand how Dumbledore could fail so miserably to guide and help the boy. I don't understand it at all. Because there's an old geezer named Aberforth Dumbledore who used to tell me stories all of the time about young Albus Dumbledore. And Moody has his fair share of tales about the great, venerable Dumbledore himself.

Having heard those, I don't understand how Dumbledore could have failed Harry so horribly. Because Harry, from what I saw of the boy and what I heard of Dumbledore, is very much like his once-mentor was as a child.

Except, of course, young Albus did not have the fate of the world resting on his shoulders during childhood. That is a minor difference.

But I – well, Tonks and I, actually – have failed him even worse.

We saw his pain. We saw the things the others did not see.

And we did nothing.

My mother always told me that idleness was of the Devil. And I believe she was right.

I just hope my idleness does no lasting harm.

I hope Remus isn't too late.

I hope Harry isn't already lost.

Review if you have something to say.

Cheers,
LIZ