Ummm…. Hey! I'm still here, you know! I only had one review for my last chapter, and that was from one of my best friends! What happened to all my readers? Okay, so maybe you all thought I had gone on a permanent vacation, but I didn't, I promise! Don't give up on me! I'm still going to update, though they'll get here faster if you review… but then, obviously no one cares about updates anymore….

Aw, c'mon, please?

One more thing: this may very well be the last time I update until the beginning of Septemberish. Not that I would probably update before then, but, you know, at least this time you have a warning…

Chapter 13

Cave of Doom (…melodramatic, I know.)

Hermione pulled them all over to shake Bill's hand. Her face was flushed with excitement. "Congratulations," she said happily, beaming.

Ron and Harry hung back a bit, nonplussed. "Do girls always get this worked up about stuff like this?" Ron muttered, so that only Harry could hear.

As Hermione embraced Fleur- Ron watching in astonishment ("When did that happen?" he asked, looking disgruntled)- Harry wrung Bill's hand. The scarred face grinned down at him. "Hey, thanks, Harry," he said quietly. "If it weren't for you, I'd never have met her."

"What?" Harry asked, startled.

"If you hadn't been on good terms with her, she would have hated me, I'm sure…"

Failing to see the connection, Harry shrugged and moved to congratulate Fleur. When she saw him, her face lit up even more (if that were possible). "Oh, 'Arry," she beamed, "eet ees so wonderful zat you could come!"

"Er… congratulations," Harry said, muffled through Fleur's wedding gown. She kissed him on both cheeks, and then waved him on. She hardly seemed to notice Ron.

Harry noticed his friend's glum face and said, "C'mon, let's go down by the beach. We can be alone there."

He shrugged half-heartedly, and, skirting through various well-wishers, they came to the edge of the cliff.

It was blocked off by a fence, in which there was a gate that led out to a steep flight of rocky stairs, which climbed right up the cliff face. This too had a handrail for safety.

Descending quickly, they made it to the bottom, kicking off their shoes and exposing their feet to the soft, white sand. Harry sat down contentedly at the edge of the water, letting it lick his bare toes.

It was good, for a day, to forget the worries and troubles of the ever-darkening world. Here he could sit back and not have to bother himself about them, and he refused to be reminded that the end of this day would come, and it would be back to life as usual tomorrow.

Ron laid down leisurely on the beach, and was soon snoring loudly in the hot afternoon sun. Harry felt his mind drift off, and a pleasant buzzing filled his ears. His eyes began to droop…

He was awakened by an earth-shattering scream.

He sat up blearily, blinking. "Ginny?" he muttered, still halfway in his dreams, which had been very pleasant.

"That wasn't Ginny, mate," Ron said from beside him. His hand was fumbling in his dress robes for his wand.

Harry withdrew his own. "Where'd it come from?" he asked, peering around urgently. "It sounded like Fleur, I've heard her scream before…"

"Over there, I think," Ron said fearfully, pointing to where the cliff jutted out and nearly met the water.

"C'mon," Harry said determinedly, hoping, praying that nothing bad was happening.

They crept around the sheer wall. Here, the part of the cliff that had been out of view before, was dotted with caves, big and small, shallow and deep. There was a light shining dimly out of the third one down.

Harry broke into a run, Ron right behind him. He skidded around the corner, and the scene that met his eyes made him gasp.

Bill was there, his face ravaged with grief, kneeling on the sandy floor. Fleur's head was in his lap, and she wasn't moving. On the other side of the wide cavern stood three men, dressed in hooded, black robes and wearing masks.

Death Eaters.

The Death Eaters' masks were turned towards them, but Bill continued to gaze at the hooded figures with unrelenting rage. He didn't seem to notice that his younger brother and his best friend had just arrived.

"Harry Potter," said a sneering voice that made Harry's blood go cold. He knew that voice. Shakily, he raised his wand.

"Harry…" Ron said warningly.

Harry ignored him. He had last heard that voice on the night of Sirius' murder, a night that never would erase itself from his memory. It was Lucius Malfoy.

He felt something welling up inside him, an overwhelming desire to strike, but he did not. This was due mostly to Ron's grip on the back of his robes, though he did exercise enough self control not to hex Ron and then charge at Malfoy. Trying to regain his composure, he glanced momentarily at Bill and Fleur.

Bill was gently, tenderly, lowering his bride to the ground. She still showed no signs of life. He stood up, and his head came up slowly.

"Ron," he said hoarsely, wand in his hand, "get out of here."

"I-"

"Go!" Bill's voice was agonized, harsh, full of hatred. Harry did not know whether Fleur was alive or dead, but… he left his thought unfinished. He didn't want to follow it through to conclusion.

Ron shook his head dumbly, tugged on Harry's robes, and whispered. "Let's get help, Harry, c'mon." And with that, he Disapparated.

But Harry wasn't going anywhere. The Death Eaters were standing there calmly, wands held casually.

"Are you going to stay and fight, Potter?" Malfoy drawled, beginning to stroll to the left of his mates.

"Harry, you too, go," Bill said, not looking at him.

"No," Harry said resolutely.

"Harry!" His voice was almost pleading, anguished, but still with that heavy, biting hatred. "Go!"

"I'm not going anywhere," he said softly, planting his feet and gripping his wand tightly. "Ron's gone to get help, they'll be back any moment…"

Bill shrugged, as if he no longer cared, and raised his wand.

"I seem to remember last time, Potter," Malfoy sneered, starting to stroll leisurely to the left, "that you needed the entire Order of the Phoenix to come and save you."

"Harry," Bill said warningly, "he's baiting you. Don't make the first move."

Harry quelled his rising temper with difficulty and remained calm.

Malfoy took a few more steps. "Foolish Potter, to take a nightmare to be real…"

Bill stepped smartly over to him and seized the back of his robes. "Don't," he said in a no-room-for-arguing sort of tone. "Harry, go back, you're just going to get yourself hurt."

"And you think you're going to beat them alone?" he demanded softly, so that only Bill could hear. "I'm staying."

Bill looked like he was about to object, but gave in. "Very well. On your own head be it. Don't let them surround you and keep your back to the cave opening."

Harry nodded curtly, moving away slowly.

"Perhaps," Malfoy said softly, beginning to move languidly towards him, "if foolish Potter hadn't believed in foolish nightmares, his godfather wouldn't have died."

Something in Harry snapped. That was the very thing he hated himself for, an event that had happened more than a year ago. How was it that the Malfoy family all knew how to push his buttons?

He rushed at Malfoy. Before he had taken three steps, however, he found himself on his back, knocked over by Malfoy's spell. A second incantation pinned him to the floor, immobilizing his limbs. The Death Eaters began closing in on him.

Malfoy raised his wand. "Crucio!"

There were three seconds of wrenching, blinding pain, the worst he had ever felt, and then something very solid- not a spell- hit Malfoy and sent him flying across the room. Bill had slammed into him.

Harry, breathing laboriously, sweating, and half whimpering, half muttering death threats, rolled painfully onto his stomach and heaved himself up. The other two Death Eaters were advancing on him, wands held high.

Thick, gray ropes sprung out of the end of one wand, wrapping themselves tightly around Harry's body before he could do anything. The other one shouted, "Expelliarmus!" and Harry's wand flew out of his hand, caught neatly by the Death Eater. They turned to join the fight with Bill.

Suddenly, there were many loud cracks, and people began to appear all around the cave. Chaos reigned for a few moments before Malfoy shouted, "Abort! Get out!"

Harry distinctly heard three people Disapparating, and then there was silence.

Someone was untying him. Others moved around him; he recognized Lupin, Tonks, Kinglsey Shacklebolt, Arthur Weasley, and Sturgis Podmore. People knelt next to Fleur's body, talking anxiously in low voices.

"What the devil were you thinking, Potter?" Moody's voice growled from above him. The last of the ropes fell away and he sat up slowly. Moody appraised him angrily. "All you accomplished by staying here was to give Bill Weasley someone else to have to protect. It was foolish, boy."

Harry was outraged that he was still considered a child, someone to be watched over, but the rational part of his mind knew that the ex-auror was right. He should've gone with Ron and left Bill to his own fight.

"Harry, are you alright?" Lupin asked urgently, kneeling beside him. "You're sweating."

He shrugged, not caring right now about what had happened. "Fleur?" he inquired softly, gazing over at the ring of witches and wizards around her. Lupin didn't answer.

"Is she okay?" Harry asked, more urgently.

Slowly, tremulously, Lupin shook his head, looking older than ever. Harry swallowed the bile rising in his throat and stood up, as though in a dream. Bill pushed his way through the people around his bride, and a sob wrenched itself out of his throat as he knelt beside her.

Lupin grasped Harry's arm and steered him away. "She's…" he began, his voice breaking, "Harry, she's dead. Don't go over there."

Harry shook his head, disbelieving. "No," he said, hoarsely. "No, she… she can't… Bill… her mum…" He tried to fight his way past Lupin, but the man held him firmly.

"Harry, I want you to Apparate back up to the garden. It was foolish to stay here, but I don't think you did any harm-"

"I know," Harry said roughly, jerking away. His eyes were burning with unshed tears. "I was stupid, I was childish, I was-"

"Harry!" Lupin reprimanded him sharply. "Don't blame yourself for this."

"I'm not," he said angrily, turning away to hide his tears. "I'm going."

He Apparated. The spell squeezed him, robbed him of air, and then…

Anxious faces peered at him, all the women holding on to something else, men looking restless and nervous. Harry shook his head, unable to speak.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

They were back at Grimauld Place, seated glumly around the kitchen table. Lupin paced restlessly up and down, alternating between running a hand through his hair and scratching the stubble that was sprouting on his chin. Harry sat beside Tonks, who was next to Mr. Weasley. Opposite Harry sat Hermione, an anxious expression on her face. Ron was beside her, and Harry would have grinned mockingly at them had he not been in such a terrible mood. Beside Ron sat Fred and George, much more sober than usual. Neither of them had particularly approved of Fleur, but the effect her death was having on their brother seemed to subdue them.

Fleur Delacour- Fleur Weasley- was indeed dead. Bill hadn't said what had happened. Bill hadn't said a word to anyone after his ordeal. He had shut himself up in the study and refused to come out, eating nothing, seeing no one. Mrs. Weasley tearfully brought up food for him after every meal, begging him to emerge, but she got no answer. Mr. Weasley had stood at the door for hours at a time, trying to reason with his son, but nothing emerged from the room.

They had questioned Harry over and over again, trying to get the exact details. He had told them the best he could remember. Lupin had been wracking his brains for two days for an a reason that would explain the Death Eaters' presence in the cave, but could think of nothing other than they were there to sabotage the wedding. He felt there was something more to it.

Harry had expected Hermione, Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley to shed a few tears and then be indifferent- they had all thoroughly disliked her, for the most part- but they all went around sounding as though they had bad head colds and allergies. Fleur's mother, father, and sister, had taken her body back to France, and Harry could tell there was a certain amount of enmity towards the Weasleys, as though Fleur's death had been their fault.

He was, again, having trouble not blaming himself. What is it with you? he would ask himself angrily. She was dead before you even got there! You blame everything on yourself! But for some reason, he couldn't shake the feeling that the Death Eaters had been there because of him, for him, and if it hadn't been for his presence, Fleur would still be alive.

Malfoy's jibe about Sirius had cut him deeply. He had tried to force it out of his mind, but since the wedding he had been repeatedly reliving the moment that Sirius had come to rescue him. And all because he had believed a stupid nightmare was real… Sirius is dead, Harry, get over it. No amount of guilt is going to bring him back. He died a year ago. It's been a year, and still you can't get it out of your head. Get a grip!

Bill came down that evening. His eyes were red, his face gaunt, eyes sunken, and long, red hair unkempt. He didn't look anyone in the eye. Harry was reminded painfully of the first time he had seen Sirius, barely out of Azkaban… the same haunted eyes, the same ravaged anguish on his face…

He forced his thoughts away from Sirius. If there was one person he wanted talk to right now, it would be Sirius. Then Dumbledore, then his parents. And they were all dead.

Dead.

Gone.

And he felt more alone at that moment than he ever had in his life.

A/N: I said that the last time Harry had heard Lucius Malfoy's voice was the night Sirius died, but I think he might have shown up sometime during HBP and I can't remember it or something…. So if I'm wrong, please let me know: better to be corrected than look like a fool, I guess…