Chapter 10 – Empty

Before Harry even had time to draw breath, Kingsley and Minerva McGonagall had rushed past him and were lighting the torches along the tunnel, their wands raised in case of an ambush. Mr Weasley was leaning heavily on Harry's shoulder.

"Thanks Harry," he panted, shifting his weight so he was leaning against the wall, "I didn't think I'd be able to get out of that!" Harry waved it away with a shake of his head, also trying to regain his breath.

"Well," said George, brushing dust off himself and addressing the group, "what now?"

"No choice but to go on." Mad-Eye was obviously unhappy about this, but he limped down the corridor, leading Kingsley and McGonagall down into the depths. Exchanging a glance with Hermione, Harry followed, the others hastening behind. The only calm one was Dumbledore, who strode serenely along at the back of the group. Harry waited a moment, letting the others pass him by, until he was stood next to Dumbledore.

"Is everything alright Harry?" Dumbledore murmured quietly.

"I just..." Harry hesitated, unsure of how to phrase his next sentence. "I don't think we should continue. I think it's a trap." He said it in a rush, and quietly, so as only Dumbledore could hear him.

Dumbledore cocked his head towards Harry. "You are sure of this?" Harry nodded. "Stay at the back." Dumbledore strode ahead, towards the front of the group, however, Harry could not hear what he said to Mad-Eye (who was behind Kingsley), as Ron had dropped back next to him.

"What makes you so sure?" said Ron, who had evidently overheard the previous bit of conversation.

"I don't know," Harry replied, subconsciously trying and failing to flatten his hair, "I guess it's just too quiet. If they were here, there would be noise up ahead. So either they're not here..." he trailed off.

"Or they know we're coming," Ron finished his sentence for him.

"We will not stop now, Albus!" Harry was distracted by Moody's voice up ahead. "I don't care what Potter thinks: we're in here now and we're going to keep searching. Quiet now!"

Dumbledore stopped in front of Mad-Eye as they reached a fork in the tunnel. Kingsley's wand illuminated the right-hand side; Moody's the left. "Alastor," he said in a soft voice that somehow carried down the corridor, "I –"

Dumbledore was cut off by an explosion at the entrance to the lair. Harry was blasted off his feet and he flew forwards, bowling into Hermione who fell to the floor. Before Harry could apologise he felt strong hands hauling him upright, and looked up to see Dumbledore pulling Harry out of harm's way. The group hurried down the tunnel and were soon split in two, as some were forced to go down the corridor with Mad-Eye, some with Kingsley. Harry was stood, panting, with Mr Weasley, Fred, George, Aaron, Kingsley, McGonagall and Dumbledore.

"Alastor!" Dumbledore called as the dust cleared. "Alastor are you alright? Who do you have with you?"

"I've got Holloway, four Weasleys, Miss O'Hur, Granger and Hagrid," Moody reeled off quickly, "How about you?"

"Harry, Arthur, Fred, George, Aaron, Kingsley and Minerva," Dumbledore answered in a relieved tone. "Everyone's safe."

"Booby trap," Kingsley said, brushing some dust off Aaron's robes, "I think we can expect more."

"We should turn back," said Mr Weasley, anxiously peering through the rubble, trying to see the rest of his family.

"I have to agree Albus," McGonagall concurred, sounding slightly out of breath, "we should leave here as soon as possible."

Dumbledore nodded. "Alastor," he called again, "I am going to clear a path through the rubble. Could you get your group to step back?"

"I think we should proceed," came Alastor's voice from the other side.

"Don't worry Professor Dumbledore," came Hagrid's strong voice. "I'll move them all back."

"Thank you Hagrid," Dumbledore answered, smiling slightly to himself. He let a few seconds pass and then aimed his wand at the pile of rocks. He did not utter the spell aloud, and Harry was surprised as, instead of a reductor curse destroying the debris, the boulders ahead seemed to dissolve into a heap of thin dust. Giving Harry a wink, Dumbledore then levitated the pile and proceeded back up the tunnel, casually depositing the pile in a thin trail along the edge of the corridor. He turned as Mad-Eye and his group emerged from the other corridor. Mr Weasley breathed a sigh of relief as he spotted Mrs Weasley, as did Aaron as he espied Lucy. Mad-Eye on the other hand was glaring furiously at Hagrid, before he turned his gaze to Dumbledore.

"Are we continuing?" he asked, limping forward until he was next to Dumbledore, more than a trace of resentment filtering through his voice. Before anyone could answer his question there was a deep rumbling sound within the lair, rising in volume with every second. Kingsley turned down the side corridor, his wand illuminating the tunnel. There was a few moments where no one spoke, just listening as the rumbling grew louder.

"Run!" Kingsley yelled suddenly, turning to face them. Seizing George, who was stood next to him, Harry began to run, most of the group up ahead of him, until a terrible cry of pain caused him to stop.

"Dad!" The deep voice belonging to Aaron Shacklebolt rang out, unnaturally high pitched, and Harry turned to see that Aaron was running back towards Kingsley, who was lying on the floor, a heavy boulder crushing his legs.

"Leave me!" Kingsley voice came in a strained voice as Harry raced back to help Aaron with the boulder, but for some reason their wands could not lift it. The tunnel around them was collapsing, and Harry had a flashing memory of the Chasm of Life, which was driven out of his mind as a large rock smashed into his shoulder. Howling in pain Harry felt two pairs of hands pulling him away from Kingsley. Snarling, Harry twisted and turned, desperate to loosen their grip as he struggled back towards Kingsley. Just ahead he could see Fred and George hauling against Aaron to pull him back, and they just succeeded in moving him as a large piece of tunnel roof collapsed onto the spot where he had just been stood, blocking Kingsley from sight.

"Harry, we must go!" Mr Weasley's voice yelled into his ear, and, as Aaron was pulled past him by Fred and George, he felt himself being pulled backwards out of the tunnel. He turned and ran up towards the exit to find that the second person had been Dumbledore, who now was racing with a speed that belied his age alongside Harry, forcing him along at a terrific pace. Mad-Eye Moody was also forced backwards by Dumbledore, who too had his wand raised. He had more success in levitating the rocks out of their way but, as the three of them burst into the sunlight, the last of the tunnel caved in behind them.

Harry lay panting on the ground. "Kingsley..." his voice was barely a whisper, but he knew that the rest of the group had heard him. Just as his eyes had adjusted enough to see that the giants had gone, he felt hot tears begin to pour recklessly out of his eyes. Kingsley had always been there, and it was only now that he was gone that Harry fully appreciated the amount of safety he had felt when Kingsley was around. Indeed, the aura of calm that he had exuded had been second only to Dumbledore, and Harry placed his head in his hands, his body shaking.

"Harry..." the soft voice of Albus Dumbledore swam through his consciousness, as he felt a strong hand hauling him to his feet. "Harry I am sorry but we must leave now. Come on." Without really thinking about it or feeling what his body was doing Harry ran with the others across the moor and into the shade of the trees, from where the group apparated back to Godric's Hollow.

*

The next hour or so was passed in near silence. Dumbledore had spent a few minutes alone with Aaron, who was inconsolable and had isolated himself in one of the loft rooms, before being forced to return to Hogwarts. Hermione too, red-eyed and at a complete loss of anything to say, had returned to Hogwarts with him, even shaking off an attempt at comforting from Ron. Ron exchanged a glance with Harry, but said nothing.

Harry was slumped in an armchair in the living room. Save for when Hermione and Dumbledore had left he hadn't looked up from his forlorn gaze into the floor. The image of Kingsley, legs pinned by that enormous boulder, seemed to be printed in his mind. The carpet seemed to twist itself into his anguished face, and no matter how many times Harry closed his eyes to block out the pain the picture held firm, plastered across his eyelids.

Eventually Harry took the opportunity to go upstairs and speak to his parents, and whilst their words were of comfort and support, they couldn't sustain him long, and he soon found himself lying on his bed, tears trickling slowly off his face and into his pillow. He couldn't bring himself to confront the horrifying truth that Kingsley was gone, and already he found himself missing the deep voice that he trusted so implicitly. Occasionally Harry heard a racking sob from upstairs, each piercing him like a physical wound, each a sharp reminder of what had happened. At one point Harry considered going up to see Aaron, but he realised before he'd even attempted to raise himself from the bed that seeing Aaron would not help either of them. He heard a knock on the door, and as he rolled over he saw Ron enter the room. He sat down on the end of the bed, not looking at Harry. There was silence for a moment, which Ron eventually broke.

"Are you alright?" he said cautiously, finally turning his gaze to Harry, who forced himself to meet Ron's eyes. He nodded slowly. Ron gave an understanding nod. "It's just so difficult to believe... I mean... he..." he trailed off. This time it was Harry's term to shoot Ron an understanding look. "I just don't understand something."

"What?" Harry asked, and he couldn't help but be a bit intrigued.

"Well, I don't understand why the boulders wouldn't move," he said in a puzzled tone.

"Well they were pretty big," Harry said, thinking back. "I probably did it wrong..." he trailed off, looking mortified.

"I doubt that," Ron answered quickly, half sceptical half consoling, "I mean, what are the chances that you, Aaron, and Moody would all get it wrong? I mean you're not exactly a bad bunch of wizards..."

"Moody?" asked Harry.

"Yeah, he was right behind you," Ron answered, nodding. "Dumbledore told him to run as, you know, he can't move very quickly, but he stayed to help. Hermione and I tried to bring him out. That's why I don't understand it."

"Maybe there was a jinx on the boulders," Harry asked, instinctively running a hand through his hair, "something that would make the boulders immune to lifting spells."

"Got it in one, Potter," A growling voice came from the doorway. Ron spun around. Neither he nor Harry had noticed Mad-Eye enter the room, but he nodded approvingly at Harry. "You're both spot on. The chances of three wizards being unable to lift a boulder magically is nigh on zero. I found the jinx in much the same way you found the alarm in your cell Potter, but by that time the tunnel was collapsing around the rest of us. I regret that at that moment Dumbledore forced me out of the tunnel." Moody face crinkled in disgust at these words, and he turned to leave the room, before turning back and moving towards the bed, reaching into his pocket as he did so. "I found these on the floor in the kitchen," he growled, drawing two pieces of parchment out of his pocket. "You should be more careful. Leaving them lying around isn't a good idea Potter. Especially after what happened with Holloway..." he trailed off, handing Harry the pieces of parchment. Harry instantly recognised the handwriting of Ron and Peter Pettigrew: the two things required to get in to Godric's Hollow. As Mad-Eye left the room, closely followed by Ron, Harry's mind instantly reeled back to the lair.

"We just need to make sure we are able to reach her without any trouble if needs be..." the words of Regalus Black reverberated through his head. What if this was how they had known about Neville protecting Ginny? What if this was how they had kept an eye on the house – could still be keeping an eye on the house? At this thought Harry's head wheeled around, staring out of the window. He couldn't see anyone but then again, he suspected, that might not mean they weren't there. Despite what he had said earlier about trusting everyone, these thoughts couldn't help but sow doubts in his mind. Was there anyone he couldn't trust? Mad-Eye? Surely not. Ron? Definitely not. Harry mentally scanned the Order, and he couldn't help but allow his mind to rest on Snape.

For what felt like the thousandth time, Harry found himself dwelling on Dumbledore's trust in Snape. Dumbledore, Merlin, probably the greatest wizard in the world, but also the most trusting, and Voldemort, Andromidus and Regalus, three of the most distrusting wizards in the world. Who would Snape be more likely to fool? Harry did not know how to answer this question, but after another scan through the Order, he could think of no one else. He trusted all the Weasleys; Hermione; Mad-Eye; Lucy, Aaron and Charlie; Minerva McGonagall; Dumbledore; and Hagrid. Hagrid...

"No," Harry told himself sternly, "Hagrid would never give us away." Hagrid had been known to discuss the Philosopher's Stone in a pub to a complete stranger after a few drinks, but Harry couldn't see it going this far. Dumbledore may have been teaching Hagrid magic, (a subject upon which Harry had not had another chance to speak to Hagrid about), but the likelihood of Hagrid casting a memory charm on Charlie Holloway were zero. Harry reassured himself with that fact and, just as he had convinced himself that this was true, Harry heard a massive sobbing sneeze that Harry instantly recognised as belonging to Hagrid, and he got to his feet, pausing only for a moment to smile affectionately at his mother in the portrait, (James was fast asleep in a chair in the corner), before leaving the room.

He arrived downstairs to find that all but two people had left the sitting room: Hagrid, sniffling into one of his enormous handkerchiefs; and Minerva McGonagall, who was comforting him. The others were sat outside under the darkening sky being served an evening supper by Dobby and Winky, although Harry suspected that none of them were eating very much. He looked with enormous affection at the half-giant in front of him, and the old professor who was struggling to hold her arm around his enormous, shaking shoulders.

"S'all my fault," Hagrid sobbed, huge tears falling out of his puffy eyes. "S'all my fault..."

"There, there," Minerva comforted him, "it's not your fault. It's nobody's fault but the Death Eaters who did this. Don't you blame yourself."

"B-But, I t-told everyone that we sh-should go!" Hagrid's voice broke and he planted his massive head in his hands, his dark, matted hair drooping over his face in a tangled mess.

"It's not your fault, Hagrid," said Harry, announcing his presence and striding over to sit on the other side of Hagrid. Both McGonagall and Hagrid smiled at him gratefully, Hagrid placing his hand on Harry's shoulder so hard that Harry's chair sank a few inches into the floor. Trying not to wince, Harry patted Hagrid awkwardly on the arm. "Like Professor..." [Harry shot a glance at McGonagall] "Minerva said, it's nobody's fault but the Death Eaters. They're to blame." Hagrid nodded, sniffling, but said nothing. Harry regarded his friend with sad eyes. Why was this sort of thing still happening?

*

The funeral was held two days later at Kingsley's house. Harry realised with a pang that he had never met Kingsley's wife, Sandra, a quiet lady who said little and merely nodded tearfully when introduced to Harry. She and Aaron were sat at the front with Mr Weasley, Dumbledore, Mad-Eye and other Aurors, some whom Harry recognised and some whom Harry didn't. There were surprisingly few family members, with the rest of the seats generally being occupied by the Order. Harry was sat with Ginny, with Ron and Hermione further along, sat behind Bill, Charlie, Fred and George, and Fred was accompanied by his girlfriend Angelina Johnson. Despite the fact that they had been dating for a long time Harry had only met Angelina once or twice since she had left Hogwarts. She had now made it into the Puddlemere United team with Oliver Wood, and Harry had been looking forward to playing against them at some point in the next season.

Now, however, he could not see beyond Voldemort. Although he had not returned yet, Harry had that horrible, suffocating feeling of inevitability, and again Harry felt his future obscured by the presence of Dark wizards. His thoughts turned to Andromidus and Regalus, before focussing purely on Andromidus. Again Harry was forced to accept that he was more wary of Andromidus than of any other wizard he had met before, save for Voldemort himself. Maybe it was because he was sort of an unknown entity, but Andromidus struck fear into him like no other wizard currently alive. Harry had to concede that he was not aware of many Dark wizards at the moment, but the point was moot: Andromidus was a powerful and frightening wizard. Was he powerful enough to reincarnate Voldemort? Harry searched his heart for the answer, and found that he didn't like it one bit.