Fallen

A/N: I have no good excuse for not updating before this. My computer did not break down and even though I did have a very challenging week of finals, I recovered and had plenty of time to start writing again. I had a mild case of writers block for this chapter. When this happens, I like to just write pointless drabbles that usually do not get posted. However, one of those little pieces grabbed hold in my brain and I lost my ability to form coherent chapters for this story. However. I have prevailed. And while that little drabble that caused so much trouble may end up posted on this site, I have returned to writing Harry Potter. So curse me and drag my name through the mud, but please, do it in a review and at least tell me what you thought of this chapter.

Songbook is back, and here is Chapter 18 of Amor Est Vita, Fallen.

Harry had not been to many weddings in his lifetime. Actually, now that he thought about it, he did not believe he had even been to a single one. However, he figured that most Muggle weddings were a little different than the wedding Bill and Fleur Weasley just had. Currently, he and Ron were sitting in a corner of the reception as everyone was celebrating around them.

Personally, Harry did not understand why everyone thought weddings were so much fun. Of course, that could be because he was wearing a disguise. And it would be odd for a random member of the Weasley family to be slow dancing with Ginny every other song. Currently his girlfriend was sitting with Luna Lovegood at a table.

"I never want to get married," muttered Ron. Harry nodded, but not so much in agreement as he was imaging Ginny in a white gown walked down the aisle.

"You'll change your mind." The two jumped at the sound of Moody's voice behind them. His dress robes were old, but at least he had made the effort to dress up for the occasion. His magical eye was flitting around the room, taking in every guest as they drank and danced.

"You were married?" asked Ron. His attention was clearly on Hermione who was walking gracefully towards them in a short red dress.

"Yes."

"To Rheanna?" Moody nodded at Harry's question and took a sip from his flask. Hermione must have sensed the seriousness of the conversation, because she slipped into her seat in silence. Harry nodded at her and asked gently, "When did she die?"

"1962." There was a deep silence before he continued. "Actually the day I lost Rhea was the last time Minerva and I spoke for a very long time."

"Which is why she didn't notice that Barty Crouch impersonated you in our fourth year," said Hermione gently, immediately picking up on the conversation.

Again he nodded. "She just assumed I was distancing myself because I was still angry. Of course, I didn't stay angry for thirty years. Eventually, it just became a matter of pride and she was doing just fine without me." The four fell silent. Moody took another swallow from his flask and studied them closely.

"I can show you," he said gruffly. Three confused sets of eyes stared at him. "The memory. I can show you the memory. Since you've been watching them all."

"That would be wonderful. The pensive is still in Ron's closet. He can go get it and meet us in the hallway." Hermione smiled at him and nudged Ron with her arm. Grudgingly, the red head stood from the table and started moving towards the house.

Harry, Hermione, and Moody were close behind him, but there was no chatter between them as they left the tent. Ron clumsily floated the pensive out of his room and down the stairs of his home to a hallway that was near the back door. They could hear the music from the tent and the laughter and shouting from the party goers.

Moody reached to his temple and pulled the memory, letting it float onto the surface of the pensive. "You can't live with regrets. Otherwise you won't ever live at all. There are only two things I regret in life. One of them was not coming home early the day Rhea died. The second was letting Minerva down." Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered them memory.

A thirty something year old Alastor Moody stumbled up to a small Victorian styled house with blue shutters on a street of similar houses. He banged on the front door of the two story home continuously until a man about his age answered the door.

"Alastor-"

"Where is she, Louis?" Alastor barged pass the calm Louis Longbottom into the entry hall. Louis shut the door quietly as Alastor demanded once more, "Where is she? I've been to her house and Felicity's. She has to be here."

"Alastor, calm down," replied his friend. "You're drunk and-"

"Don't tell me to calm down, not when your wife and son are still alive and well," growled Alastor as he took a threatening step towards Louis. "She has to answer for what he's done!"

There was the clicking of heals on the hard wood floor as Augusta Longbottom came down the hallway. "What in Merlin's name is going on? You've woken Frank and he's crying again." Taking sight of Alastor in her entry hall, she put a hand to her mouth and spoke a soft, "Oh."

Louis sighed and glanced at his wife. "He wants to speak to Minerva." Tears formed in Augusta's eyes and she took a step forward to embrace Alastor, but he shook her off.

"I don't need your pity," he snarled.

"He's been drinking," whispered Louis.

"Damn right I have been. Don't talk about me like I ain't standing right here." The couple exchanged a glance.

The cries of their five-year old son grew louder. Minerva was cradling the screaming toddler in her arms as she came down the hallway. Her hair was swept back in a bun and she was wearing a Hogwart's crest on the brooch that fastened her cloak. She had a grave look on her face and her eyes seemed hollow. While Augusta's eyes echoed the sorrow of the loss of her friend, Minerva seemed unmoved by Alastor's presence and Rheanna's death.

"Perhaps we should speak privately," she said evenly as she handed Frank over to his mother. Augusta gave her a desperate look before taking her son and leaving the hall.

Louis shook his head, "I'm staying here. Either that or I want both of your wands." Alastor glared at his friend and back at Minerva.

"Why would she have any desire to kill me? Hell, maybe I'll do the job for her. She can take all the credit and be welcomed back into her husband's open arms." He spread his arms wide in mockery and smiled at her flinch at the mention of her husband.

"Alastor you have to know I've had no contact with Tom…" The mention of his name sparked an outburst from Moody and he lumbered towards her, only to find a very serious Louis blocking her path.

"Come on, mate, you're drunk and grieving. We are all shocked and upset about Rhea's death. That's why Minerva is here. She has someone covering her classes at-"

"Get off me," spat Alastor, his disgusted eyes never leaving her darkened emerald ones. Louis took a hesitant step back.

"Rhea was my friend too," Minerva whispered. This only seemed to enrage him more, but she stood her ground. Alastor was trying to battle his sorrow, anger, and despair along with the large amount of alcohol that was raging through his system all at the same time.

"How dare you!" He stumbled forward a grabbed her shoulders roughly. Louis tried to intervene, but Minerva shook her head. "I loved her. She was my entire world. I have dedicated everything to protecting her. And he- he took it all. He took it all!"

She turned her face to hide the tear that slipped past her defenses. Pulling herself together, she murmured, "You have every right to blame me."

"No," said Louis. "This is ridiculous, Alastor, she had nothing to do with this. Tom acted on his own accord."

Alastor did not seem to hear him and continued to ramble on, still grasping her tightly. "You knew. You knew the monster he was. And you loved him. Rhea was pure and beautiful. I loved her. I tried to tell you he was no good. But you didn't listen. You nurtured the murderer in him-"

"Alastor you are out of line," barked Louis, clearly concerned about the situation that was slowly getting out of hand. Again his words went unheeded. His concern was not just for the distraught widower, but also for Minerva who was allowing his rage to denounce her.

"So you can take your husband and go to hell. You and Lord Voldemort. Go lay in the bed you made, m'Lady. Because of you, mine is empty." He released her and turned around violently. In his drunken state he ran into a coat rack, knocking it to the ground. He cursed darkly and pushed Louis away once more as the other man tried to help.

"I left him, Alastor. A long time ago. You know that…" whispered Minerva. "He isn't the man I married."

As Alastor reached the door, he turned his head back at her words. "No. He is. He has always been that creature. He just got tired of hiding it. And once Selene died and you left him, he no longer had to hide it. Everything he does, every person he kills, Rhea: they are all blood on your hands."

The three exited the memory with similar looks of shock. Harry look from the pensive to Moody. Behind every scar and all the wrinkles on the elder man's face were years of pain and the worn look of a guilty survivor. The name 'Mad-Eye' did not even begin to describe the madness within. Alastor Moody was truly broken, hiding behind his wand and the thought of a fight.

"She thinks this is all her fault," whispered Hermione. She could feel the bile in the back of her throat as she realized her Professor's true place in this war. Even after all the memories McGonagall had provided them with, she had still thought McGonagall was just trying to help them win the war. But there was so much more to it. McGonagall was on an impossible mission to right what she did wrong; to avenge every death that she felt responsible for.

"Aye. And that is all my fault. Dumbledore tried to tell me she always had those thoughts in her head. Always thought she did the wrong thing. Selene's death and her leaving him. Doesn't make me feel any better. I'm still the catalyst that brought her to go this far."

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but there was a loud bang and subsequent screaming coming from the wedding tent. They all rushed to the door of the Burrow to see part of the tent on fire and people apparating away. Death Eaters challenged Aurors and members of the Order in the middle of the chaos.

Moody turned and pushed them back into the Burrow as spells came flying their way. Shouts of recognition of both Hermione and Ron (Harry was still disguised as a family member) flew through the Death Eaters and the closest ones headed in their direction.

"Go, get out of here, I'll hold them off!" he shouted. Hermione pulled on Ron and Harry's sleeves as Death Eaters broke through the door. The last thing Harry, Hermione, and Ron saw as they disapperated was Alastor Moody locked in combat with at least five Death Eaters.

-BREAK-

It had been three days since Bill and Fleur's wedding. Hermione had brought them to Grimmauld Place. The house had collected even more dust since it's abandonment after Dumbledore's death. Hermione was trying to cook for all three of them, Harry was extremely moody in the confined space, and Ron was going crazy for news of his family. There was no plan. It was in this time they remembered how very close to children they were. Hardly old enough to be fighting this war on their own; but they also remembered they were the only ones who could stop Lord Voldemort for good.

A commotion at the door brought them to their feet and wands drawn, they met their intruder in the hallway. Remus Lupin raised his arms in surrender at the sight of them. He looked drawn and tired and there were telling bags under his eyes.

"Who are you?"

"Remus John Lupin."

"What did you give me the last day you were a Professor?" asked Harry.

"The Marauders map." Harry lowered his wand and Hermione and Ron followed suit. Harry resisted the urge to run to Remus and embrace him.

"Are they alright?" asked Ron quickly. Harry could hear his heart thumping for news of Ginny.

Remus nodded. "Your family is fine. We lost two Aurors…"

"And?" prodded Hermione, knowing there was more.

"Mad-Eye is dead." Harry felt his heart drop. Mad-Eye was dead. He died saving them. If Moody had not been in the Burrow with them, they may not have been able to escape. Hermione swallowed hard and motioned for Remus to follow them into the kitchen.

"We've been looking everywhere for the three of you once we found out the Death Eaters had failed to capture you at the wedding. Everyone has gone into hiding."

"So they're safe," said Ron. Remus nodded again.

"I can't stay long. I need to get back to Dora." A small smile played across his lips. "We're going to have a baby. Dora found out she was pregnant a couple of days before the wedding. We were planning on announcing it, but we never really got around to it."

"Congratulations!" squealed Hermione. Ron shook Remus' hand and Harry finally embraced the older man in a hug.

"Yes, well, I do have to be going. I just wish you three would include the rest of the Order in this plan of yours." He looked pointedly at Harry. "None of us have been in contact with McGonagall since she left. The last thing we need is to lose you too."

"I'm sorry. I can't." Remus sighed and rubbed his eyes, but nodded in acceptance.

"If you change your mind, you know how to find us."

After Remus left, Harry found himself alone in Sirius' room. He looked through the pictures of Sirius, James, and Remus in their youth. Staring down at the innocent faces, he thought about how his life was never innocent. The happiness he saw in eyes of the young men in the picture was very rare in his life. His thoughts drifted to Professor McGonagall and the memories where he had seen her true happiness; the light behind her emerald eyes. He had never seen that light in person before. Just like he had never seen that light in Remus or Sirius. They were all tainted by the past and consumed with the knowledge of what is to come.

Putting down the picture, he pulled the sealed letter out of his pocket. McGonagall's handwriting was unmistakable. The smooth cursive that spelled out Harry Potter was soothing in a way. He flipped it over and slid his finger under the flap to open the envelope. Harry pulled out the letter and unfolded it.

The moments passed and he read every word. As he finished he folded the letter back up and placed it back in his pocket. For the first time since Dumbledore's death, Harry Potter knew exactly what he needed to do.

A/N 2: Sorry, I promise you will get to read Minerva's letter to Harry. But not until the end. Just thought I should point out that it's not like I just didn't want to take the time to write it. Trust me. It's written. And I'm the only one who knows what it says. And it will stay that way until the end. That is, if you are still willing to stick with me.