Part III
Kiku's feet slammed into hard ground. There was a cry from nearby and suddenly Ginny Weasley was there, red hair flying like curtains of flame as she ran towards him, helping him up.
"You two arrived on time, thank goodness!" she gasped to Alfred who was already standing with a worried look on his face.
"What, have the others been delayed? I mean…" Alfred trailed off as Lupin came charging towards them, face deathly pale and wand drawn.
"Alfred! What was the seventh creature we covered in my class?" he demanded.
"The Kappa, sir!" Alfred exclaimed.
Lupin turned to Kiku. "And who was the first person in my class able to ward off a Dementor?" he asked.
Kiku gasped, a lump rising in his throat. He knew that answer. "A-Arthur K-Kirkland… and his Patronus was a lion…"
Ginny took the opportunity to tell them the bad news. "Someone seemed to have told the Death Eaters that we were moving Harry tonight, because there –" she pointed to an empty tomato crate, "– is Mad-Eye and Feliciano's Portkey. They missed theirs. And there –" she pointed to an ancient set of trainers, "– is Fred and Dad's."
"We were waylaid," Alfred replied simply as Lupin stormed back up to the house.
"I could tell as much," Ginny replied sourly. "Harry and Hagrid arrived all right, and then Lupin and George – George's in a bad way, come and see."
She led them back to the house as well. Inside the living room, Mrs. Weasley was tending to George, who was bleeding profusely. Kiku looked closer and reeled away in horror – one of George's ears was missing.
"Will George be okay?" Harry was asking, looking down at the twin's limp form.
"I think so," Lupin replied as Mrs. Weasley tried to staunch the bleeding; Ginny ran over to help. "But there's no chance of replacing his ear... not when it's been cursed off..."
Kiku walked into the kitchen, taking a seat there. Alfred followed him.
"It's horrible, isn't it?" Alfred asked with a sigh. "I wish I could have saved his ear."
Kiku said nothing, only staring at a spot on the wall.
"I mean, I'm a hero! But there are always so many things that are totally out of my control," Alfred lamented, lapsing into a melancholy monologue. Kiku tuned him out in his attempt to drown out the rest of the world until only he and his shame remained.
He had killed Arthur; there was no question about it. No one could have fallen that far and survived. Not even Arthur.
He had killed the man he loved, and in doing so, he shamed himself.
"Kiku, are you okay?" Kiku came back to earth when Alfred's voice cut through his brooding. "You're crying."
"Shouldn't I?" the Japanese demanded, tears slipping down his cheeks.
Suddenly Ron and Hermione burst into the kitchen as well. "Bloody hell, Lupin's got it in for us," Ron muttered, leaning heavily on the counter.
"Well, in case you forgot, Ron, we were attacked by Death Eaters!" Hermione screeched shrilly. "I think he has perfect excuse to be this anxious!" She then saw Alfred and Kiku sitting there silently. "No one else came back?" she asked. "Other than Harry, Hagrid, George, and Lupin?"
Alfred shook his head. "Naw, but we saw Arthur."
"Don't talk about him!" Kiku wailed suddenly. "Please!"
Hermione looked alarmed. "Kiku, what's wrong? How did the two of you see Arthur?"
"He was with the Death Eaters," Alfred replied as Hermione flung her arms around the crying Japanese man. "They put him under the Imperious Curse."
"I killed him!" Kiku sobbed, soaking Hermione's blouse with tears. "I Stunned him and he fell from his broom and he's probably broken every bone in his body!"
"Shhh, shhh," Hermione whispered comfortingly. "Don't you remember? He's a Nation. He'll come back."
"But will he forgive me for killing him?"
Hermione had no answer for that.
Arthur was drowning, or at least that was what it felt like.
He was sinking, sinking, unable to breathe...
Light. There was light; it was wavering, ripping, tantalisingly dancing above him...
He was reaching for the light above, but it was just so far away...
And he was so tired, too...
Mr. Weasley and Fred came running into the kitchen moments later, looking haggard and near hysterics. Bill and Fleur, arrived back from Gringotts, accompanied them.
"Mon dieu!" Fleur cried at George's ghastly wound, clapping her hands to her mouth. Bill held her close; Kiku looked away again.
Fred was gaping at his twin. Mrs. Weasley had staunched the bleeding by now and she was gently stroking his hand, worry evident in her eyes.
The door to the kitchen burst open once more and Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks ran in wearing identical windswept and harried looks.
"We heard something about the Death Eaters attacking..." Tonks gasped, falling into Lupin's arms. "We thought they had taken the false bait..."
"Someone let slip the date," Mr. Weasley replied, "And Francis, Madeline, Mad-Eye, and Feliciano are not back yet."
George suddenly stirred. "How do you feel, Georgie?" Mrs. Weasley asked worriedly.
"Saintlike," he replied, touching the side of his head.
"What's wrong with him?" Fred croaked. "Is his mind affected?"
"Saintlike," George repeated. "I'm holy, you see? Holey, geddit?"
Alfred stifled a snort in his arm. Kiku heaved a sigh. Mrs. Weasley sobbed even harder.
But Fred was looking a bit less pale. "Pathetic, George! With the whole wide world of ear-related humour before you, you go for holey?"
Kiku abruptly left the room, feeling as if it would be better to leave George with his family. Alfred left with him, and moments later Harry and Ginny walked out hand-in-hand as well.
Kiku hated them for that, hated Harry for having someone to hold his hand, hated Ginny for having someone to hold and cry with. Outside, Ron and Hermione were standing together a little ways away from Hagrid, who was looking out into the night sky with worry evident in his eyes. Lupin and Tonks joined them, and then Kingsley came outside as well, pacing the ground and looking up at the sky at every turn. It only took a few more minutes before Kiku felt stifled by the amount of couples outside and he ran around to the other side of the house, wanting to be alone.
"Arthur," he sobbed, tears rolling down his cheeks for the blonde and green-eyed man. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry... I don't think you'll ever forgive me for this..." He choked down the three words that he really wanted to say. "Please..."
Was there someone to live for? Someone worth the struggle up to the surface?
Arthur didn't know. He drifted along in the sea of dreams, letting Death caress him with soft white hands.
"Come with me, England... embark on the last greatest adventure..."
"No, Arthur!"
That voice, Arthur thought. That voice was so familiar.
"Arthur, I'm so sorry, so sorry," the voice called, sounding like a certain Japanese boy who had once been his friend. "Come back, all right? Dozo?"
Maybe there was someone to live for after all.
There was a general commotion around the other side of the house and Kiku emerged from his reverie.
"Francis! Madeline!" Fleur's voice called, and Kiku retraced his steps to go see Francis and Madeline. "Dieu merci, vous deux sont sûrs!"
A thestral had landed in the yard and there was Francis, helping Madeline down from the thestral. He hugged Alfred briefly before turning to look at Mr. Weasley, sadness evident in his blue eyes.
"Mad-Eye's dead."
Shocked silence rang through the crowd. Kiku's mouth fell open. It couldn't be, it couldn't be, he thought furiously.
"What about Feli-kun?" he asked after a moment.
"Feliciano? He Disapparated," Francis replied, a little bit of hardness in his tone. "It happened when we broke out of the circle – we were both going south, so we were rather close by. Feliciano panicked, because You-Know-Who – he can fly – went straight for them. Feliciano conjured a white flag from his wand, waved it, and then Disapparated. So You-Know-Who's curse hit Mad-Eye in the face and he fell backward off his broom..."
Kiku sobbed; he could picture it perfectly in his mind – Mad-Eye Moody, falling like Arthur and Dumbledore, hitting the ground spread-eagled, his body broken...
"There was nothing we could do," Madeline whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks. "We had half a dozen of them on our own tail... and You-Know-Who was chasing us for a moment there, too, but he suddenly disappeared."
"Of course you couldn't have done anything," Lupin whispered.
Arthur fought for life, trying to surface, trying to reach the light.
He woke up to darkness and wondered if death would have been better. There was a dull ache in his body from every place where bones had been broken – not to mention a pain in his chest from... from a fatality.
Who died?
"Welcome back," Ollivander whispered, his voice like a single reed blowing in the wind.
"To Mad-Eye," Bill said solemnly, sending glasses of firewhisky in all directions.
"Mad-Eye," everyone echoed.
"To Arthur," Kiku added. They all looked at him.
"What?" Francis demanded, eyes wide.
"Arthur's dead," Alfred sobbed, his voice like a lament.
"How do you know?" Francis exclaimed, cerulean eyes sombre.
Kiku shook his head. "He was one of the Imperioused people on the Death Eater side. I Stunned him and he fell..." His voice broke.
"To Arthur," the rest of the room replied. Silence followed as everyone drank to the two of them.
Kiku drained his glass in one gulp, feeling warmth seep through him.
"So Feliciano disappeared?" Lupin asked after a moment. Everyone tensed, especially the other Nations.
"Yes, but he couldn't have betrayed us," Francis said firmly. "Anyone who knows Feliciano knows that he's just a coward, not a collaborator."
"Says you," Kiku muttered under his breath. Francis shot him a 'don't you dare argue with me' look.
"They seemed to be expecting us, non?" the Frenchman continued. "But they didn't seem to know that there was going to be seven Harrys, and it was Feliciano who suggested that in the first place. So if he had been the one to tell the Death Eaters, why wouldn't he have told them the key point? So I think he just panicked, as he understandably would."
"Well, of course, he's Feliciano," Kiku pointed out. "I mean... Moody had to convince him to come along with us... and then Voldemort went straight for them."
"Like I said, Feliciano's not exactly the bravest soldier in the battalion," finished Francis, leaning his head on Madeline's shoulder.
"Yes, and You-Know-Who seemed to have acted as Mad-Eye expected," sniffed Tonks. "Mad-Eye said he'd expect the real Harry to be with the most skilled Aurors or Nations – I mention the Nations, because that Ivan Braginski's had plenty of time to tell him about the skills you Nations have with magic."
"Well, that explains why after Feliciano gave the game away he chased us for a bit," Madeline said with a sniffle. "But what made him suddenly disappear?"
"Harry acted too kindly to Stan Shunpike," Lupin replied, with only the tiniest bit of hardness to his voice.
"Still, eet does not explain 'ow zey knew we were moving 'Arry tonight," Fleur interjected, her voice snappish. "Somebody must 'ave been careless et slipped ze date to an outsider. It is ze only explanation for zem knowing ze date but not ze 'ole plan." She glared around at all of them.
"No!" Harry exclaimed after a moment, his voice oddly loud in the silence after Fleur's bit. "I mean... even if someone let something slip, it was an accident! I know they didn't mean to do it; it's not their fault. We've got to trust each other, and I trust all of you. I don't think anyone in this room would sell me to Voldemort."
Arthur dozed off, trying to ignore the pains all over his body. He woke up to screams once more. For a moment he was content to just keep his eyes closed, pretend that he was sleeping or even dead.
"You told me the problem would be solved by using another's wand!"
It was Voldemort, and he was screaming at Ollivander. Arthur squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to move and betray the fact that he was alive.
Ollivander was screaming as well, and Arthur was sorely tempted to stick his fingers in his ears to drown out the sound.
"No! No! I beg you, I beg you..."
"You lied to Lord Voldemort, Ollivander!"
"I did not, I swear I did not!"
"You sought to help Potter, to help him escape me!"
"I swear I did not! I believed a different wand would work..."
There was a dreadful silence in which only Ollivander's pants and whimpers of pain could be heard, magnified by the stone.
"Explain, then, what happened," Voldemort hissed, voice deadly and horrible, "Lucius's wand is destroyed!"
"I cannot understand," pleaded Ollivander. "The connection exists... only between your two wands..."
"Lies!" screeched Voldemort, flying into a rage once more.
"Please!" Ollivander begged. "Please, I beg you..."
His words were drowned out in screams.