Harry Potter is Dead
Chapter 11 | Ashes
Dean could feel their eyes on him, but he could not stand to meet their gaze. They stared at him when they thought he was not looking; but Dean had been watching them out of the corners of his eyes ever since they had arrived. He saw the brief glances Charlie and Mr. Weasley gave each other as they worked, occurring more often as time wore on and their search continued to yield no results. They were more like silent conversations than mere looks - each of them conveying to the other the same message: they had been here for too long, and that it was time to give up. None of them, however, seemed to want to be the one to break it to Dean.
Dean kept his head down, humoring them; pretending to be blissfully ignorant to their stares was a thousand times easier than facing them head-on. They let him continue on for a while longer, though they had obviously already searched every place that might hide a body. Dean was very glad for this. He had come here knowing full well that the likelihood of finding Seamus' body was slim at best; and yet here he was, unable to cease his search. Perhaps just the prospect of going and looking had drawn up some tiny, irrational hope in him - hope that Dean did not know he even had any more - that had lain dormant through these past few weeks of mourning.
Dean had always been a rational person. He knew that Seamus was dead, and had managed to accept it, however difficult. He never deluded his sub-conscious self, in his grief and pain, into believing that Seamus had somehow still alive. But the notion of finding a body . . . something to cling to, and cry over . . . well, it was something Dean wanted very much. He knew how small a chance there was of a body remaining beneath the piles of rubble. But Dean supposed he had let himself become carried away by improbable fantasy.
A hand suddenly rested on Dean's shoulder; gentle, tentative, but also firm and comforting. Dean looked up to see Mr. Weasley standing there. The Polyjuice Potion had worn off, but they had not bothered to replenish it; Mr. Weasley was very nearly back to himself. He had donned his glasses once more, slightly askew and coated with a thin layer of ash. The stuff was everywhere on him, settling in his wrinkles in a way that added several years to his visage. The somber expression in Mr. Weasley's eyes, which replaced their usual happy twinkle, only increased the effect.
"Dean," He began. The grip on Dean's shoulder tightened reassuringly, and the look in Mr. Weasley's eyes intensified into something so understanding and meaningful that Dean had trouble meeting their gaze.
Dean did not respond.
"I think it's time to go."
A burning sensation was beginning in the corners of Dean's eyes, one that had nothing to do with the ash in the air.
"It hasn't been - "
"He's not here, son."
Now the burning had spread to Dean's throat; that which had been threatening to overpower him since they arrived was about to burst forth. He wished they would look away.
Mr. Weasley pulled him into a hug, and without hesitation, Dean leaned into the man's embrace. He refused to let himself cry, even then; but it was a long while before Dean allowed Mr. Weasley to relinquish his hold.
When the two broke apart, Mr. Weasley took Dean by the shoulders. "It's going to be all right, Dean." he said.
Dean looked up at him. Mr. Weasley's eyes were as somber as ever, but twinkling again with a sort of bitter sweetness that Dean found hard to place.
"But I . . ." Dean said slowly. But he could not finish.
He wanted to say something, anything that would express the cacophony of emotions that were exploding in his stomach like a fireworks display. Yet of everything Dean was feeling - sadness, disappointment, fear - there was one that steadily rose above the others. Overwhelming gratitude for Mr. Weasley's kindness crashed over the rest like a great wave, growing and expanding until it filled him completely. Warm and glowing with this singular, all-encompassing feeling, Dean found himself pouring every last ounce of it into two simple words, which he uttered with as much feeling and sincerity as he possibly could.
"Thank you."
Mr. Weasley kept his hand on Dean's shoulder. He was very glad it was there.
"Why don't we grab Charlie and Luna and head - "
"Mr. Weasley!"
Dean could not prevent the irrational flutter of hope as he spun around to look; Luna's shout, high and startled, echoed across the clearing with a sort of alert finality that commanded the attention of all who heard it. But as he saw that Luna had uncovered no body, Dean's desperate smile flickered and died, transitioning smoothly into a frown once he realized how willingly he had rekindled the very feelings he had just worked so hard to repress. Dean turned instead to see her by the collapsed remains of the fireplace, standing stock-still and turned away from them, staring at a golden something she clutched tightly in her hand.
"Luna, what's the matter - " Mr. Weasley began, closing the distance between himself and Luna in a few short strides. The look on her face as she turned around was enough to silence him. Luna's protuberant eyes were even wider than normal, light eyebrows vanishing beneath her hair, lips parted in what might have been surprise or disbelief.
"Look." Luna said. She held out the object in her hand; a Galleon. "Look at what it says."
"I don't know what this is all . . . all . . . " Mr. Weasley bent in to look as he spoke; he trailed off. His eyes shifted from the coin to Luna, suddenly serious. They searched for an explanation.
"We used them in school," said Luna breathlessly. "Fake Galleons, in my fifth year; for planning Dumbledore's Army meetings without letting that foul Umbridge woman what we were up to. Hermione enchanted them so that we could change the words on the edges if we needed to, for messages - I carried mine around with me for years, just for no reason at all - fond memories I suppose - but I must have dropped it while we were fighting here -"
"Luna, are you telling me - "
"Yes." Luna said finitely. "Absolutely."
Dean took the Galleon from Luna and held it up to his eye. In the years since he had forgotten all about the fake coins Hermione had enchanted for their secret meetings, so long ago. But sure enough, engraved there in the metal, as clear as day: Luna. I am alive and held within Hogwarts. Please, please answer. Neville.
Dean met Luna's gaze with mirrored urgency. "Can you send him a message back?"
"Of course." Luna said. Dean handed her the Galleon and she pulled out her wand, but hesitated. "What should I tell him?"
Mr. Weasley opened his mouth to answer, but the words never left his lips: Charlie's Muggle stopwatch suddenly gave a loud beep.
"It's seven. Order's probably arriving at home right now." He said, glancing at the watch face.
"Then we can Apparate back there and ask them all what they think." Mr. Weasley offered.
Dean, Luna, and Charlie all nodded in agreement. Mr. Weasley held out his hand, and they grasped it. A moment later, they were flying through darkness. The feeling was all sorts of unpleasant, but Dean felt a strange sensation deep in his chest that had nothing to do with the Apparition. It took him a moment to realize that it was hope.
With a shuddering jerk, Dean's feet hit solid ground. They stood in an almost unrecognizable field; Dean could hardly tell where they were without the familiar sight of the Burrow to mark the landscape.
"Home should be that way, everyone." Mr. Weasley said, indicating a nondescript area of field just the same as the rest. But sure enough, once they walked a few yards, the silhouette of the tilting house materialized against the setting sun. The windows glowed warm and bright; within them, Dean could see a number of figures moving about on the ground floor. Mrs. Weasley stood out among them, her chair pulled up to the panes of glass, looking anxious. Dean watched her expression change as she recognized them; then she vanished from view, bursting out the door only a moment later.
"Arthur!" She cried, running at them and wrapping her arms around her husband, who stroked her hair rather bemusedly. "Oh, I was so worried - "
"We aren't even that late, mum." Charlie said.
"When I said be home at seven, I meant be home at seven, not seven-ten!"
"Molly . . . "
"Oh, but all the same," Mrs. Weasley released her husband and looked at them all. "Did you . . . ?"
No one answered her. Dean did not see her face crumple; his eyes were on the ground.
Mrs. Weasley swallowed. "Well . . . that's that, then." she said. The prolonged silence that followed told Dean that she was looking at him. He forced himself to meet her gaze, and her eyes were full of a sort of motherly kindness that was much more comforting than the pity he was expecting to see there. "Are you all right, Dean, dear?" she asked.
He managed to smile at her. "I'm fine, Mrs. Weasley."
She smiled a little sadly, patted him on the shoulder, and then addressed them all. "Right, well, come on, then, let's get you all inside. I'm afraid we've already finished dinner, but I left a few plates out for you lot if you're hungry . . . "
"Let's hurry. I want to tell Dumbledore immediately." Mr. Weasley said as they walked.
"Tell Dumbledore what?"
"We found something at Mal's place." said Luna. "We're not entirely sure, but it might just be our ticket inside Hogwarts."
Mrs. Weasley's eyes widened. "What - but - "
"We'll explain everything in full once everyone can hear, Molly, I promise." Mr. Weasley said reassuringly. "They'll want to see this."
Brow furrowed, Mrs. Weasley pulled open the door and they entered the Burrow. Much like the day they had interrogated Malfoy, the kitchen was crowded with the faces of friends and strangers. Ron and Hermione were both smiling at Ginny, who clutched the Resurrection Stone and stared at the floor; Percy, Bill, and Fleur stood talking quietly in a corner; Neville's grandmother was telling Kingsley a lengthy story; and Andromeda Tonks and Hannah Abbot played with a gurgling Teddy. As the five entered, the voices quieted somewhat.
"Good, Arthur, you're here." Kingsley said. "Dumbledore insisted that we wait."
"Sorry for the delay." Mr. Weasley said. "But we've brought news, and potentially very important news, at that. Harry and Dumbledore are here, you said?"
With a glance at Ginny, Kingsley nodded. "What did you find out, Arthur?"
"I think Luna might be able to explain a little better than I can." He said, allowing Luna to step forward and address the small crowd. She showed them the coin and explained how the DA had once used them; then she read out the message.
"He's alive?" Hannah squeaked. Dean noticed her eyes were very red. "Neville's alive?"
The cramped kitchen filled with muttering once again.
"We're not positive." Luna answered her. "Everyone who was in the DA had one of these fake Galleons at one point. Those were all people we could trust, but this was also four years ago that they were handed out. You probably don't still have yours, do you, Hannah?"
Jaw set, Hannah shook her head.
"So we can't be sure if one of these coins has fallen into the wrong hands." Kingsley said.
"Exactly."
"Can't we send him a message back, though?" Hannah pleaded. "To be sure it's him?"
"That's what we were going to do," said Mr. Weasley, "But we wanted to know what the rest of you thought first."
"Well, by all means, do it!" Mrs. Longbottom cried. "This is my grandson we're talking about. If he's alive and inside Hogwarts, I want to know!" She looked around at the rest of them, as if daring them to disagree with her.
"It's worth a shot." said a man with a deep voice. "I mean, what else do we have to go on?"
Bill raised an eyebrow and let out a puff of air. "Warren makes an excellent point. We have no other leads, and nothing to loose."
"And everything to gain." Percy added. "We'd actually have a chance at getting inside of Hogwarts if we had a man on the inside."
"We don't exactly want to share our plans with a Death Eater, though, do we?" Hermione said.
"What do Dumbledore and Harry think, Ginny?" Mr. Weasley said kindly, turning to her.
Ginny's eyes flicked back and forth between two spaces of unoccupied air. Then: "Professor Dumbledore says to ask him a question only he would know, to make sure it's him."
"What question should we give him?" Andromeda said. There was silence for a moment.
"Ask him about the time he set his pants on fire, in our first year." Dean said.
Ron snorted loudly. "Oh, Merlin, I'd forgotten that . . . go on and ask him, he'll definitely remember."
"Ron . . ." Hermione said disapprovingly.
"I'm not sure how I'm supposed to turn that into a question." Luna said.
"Right . . . er, sorry." Dean frowned. "Ask for the name of his favorite book from when he was young."
"Medicinal Herbs for the Modern Magician." said Ron ruefully. "He used to read it to us every night, d'you remember how annoying that was?"
"Ron!" Hermione scowled.
"All right, I'm sorry, that was very rude of me!" Ron said defensively. Dean sniggered; Ron glared at him.
"Favorite book it is, then." Luna said. She pulled out her wand and waved it over the Galleon; it glowed warm for a moment, and then the shimmer of heat receded and it was nothing more than cold metal once more.
There was silence throughout the kitchen. Luna stared at the coin in her hand as if she was silently willing it to change, and in turn, the others stared at watched her. Then, a full minute later, the heat began to roll off the Galleon in waves. Several people surged forward to look, so that Luna had to hold up her hands and cry, "Wait, wait!" in order to get some space. They stepped back, and her gaze returned to the Galleon, the symbols around the edge still changing. Then, all at once, the glimmer faded. Luna's eyes closed and she let out a great breath.
"It's him."
Chaos broke out for a moment: people talked and laughed and hugged one another; Hannah burst into tears. Dean did not partake in the momentary celebration - instead he approached Luna and examined the coin in her hand. Medicinal Herbs for the Modern Magician. Merlin, Luna! I've been trying to contact you for ages and that's what you say?, read the tiny letters. Dean met Luna's eyes and grinned.
Suddenly Ginny spoke, standing on her tiptoes and calling loudly over the din. "Harry says to ask if there's any way we can infiltrate Hogwarts."
The congregation fell silent immediately.
"Go ahead, Luna, dear," Mrs. Weasley prodded gently, and Luna snapped out of a daze.
Only a moment after the Galleon grew cold again, it glowed with heat once more. "The security's been increased tenfold." Luna called out to everyone. "Neville's being held in the North tower, so he can't be sure of anything specific . . . " Just as she finished her message, the Galleon heated again, its message changing. " . . . But he knows most of the changes were made to the schools wards. The Carrows put them up; it's pretty much impossible to get through them from the outside."
A heavy silence filled the kitchen. No one seemed to know what to say; the impossible odds that were stacked up against them had crushed the happiness of a moment before as if it had never been.
"From ze outside." Fleur's voice wavered. "But we 'ave a man on ze inside."
Luna was waving her wand again. Dean leaned closer to see the words she was working into the Galleon's surface: Are you sure there's nothing you can do to break us in?
Another long moment later, the Galleon burned hot with Neville's returning message.
There is one thing I can try.
Luna relayed the message to the rest of the Order, and once more they perked up excitedly; but before any of them could respond, the message changed again.
It'll have to wait until I can get out of this damned cell, though, and I'm not sure we have the time.
Dean barely had time to read the words before they melted away once more.
You-Know Who's planning something, the coin now read. I dunno what, but it doesn't sound like we'll be able to do much to stop him once he's through with it.
This time Luna managed to send a reply before Neville cut her off: Neville, he's got some sort of a potion that can make him immortal. We've got to get in there before it's ready.
This time Neville's reply took much longer than the previous ones. Dean realized he was holding his breath; with a puff, he released it, just as the Galleon heated again.
I'm going to have to take down the Carrows if you want to get those wards down. I'll need a wand, though, and I don't see how I
Here Neville's message ended abruptly. Luna blinked in surprise. "Do you think something's happened - " But no sooner than the words left her lips did the Galleon warm in her hand. Neville's words came in several sections, too long to fit around the rim of the coin.
I have a plan. It can't happen immediately, but I think I can get a wand and get out of here.
I'll send you a message as soon as I'm out. You'll have to keep on your toes, though -
I'm not sure when it'll happen, and if anything, I could use more time to plan.
Luna wrote back a hasty reply: Fill us in. The whole Order's here with me; we'll assist you in any way we can.
Great. I'm going to need all the help I can get . . .
