Deathly Hallows comes out tomorrow! Well technically the day after, but it'll be midnight, so whatever. I'm absolutely giddy! More so than I was for the new movie. This needed to be out before HP 7 so that it wouldn't influence me, and all that. I doubt very much I'll be following canon of the seventh book, though. Anyway, hope you like this chapter. It's fairly sad, actually.
When I pass, speak freely of my shortcomings and my flaws. Learn from them, for I'll have no ego to injure.
-Aaron McGruder, Boondocks
Then Sir Malory's eyes grew hard. In the years we had spent compiling the stories of Camelot, he had grown to love Arthur, as of course had I, so that now he said, "Le Morte D'Arthur is my book, written in my way."
"But surely," I said, "you don't expect that by ignoring Sir Mordred's more noble endeavors you can make people forget they ever occurred?"
Sir Thomas raised his eyebrows at me. "Oh no?" he said.
-from a letter by Brother Lucien, a scribe and a friar of the Holy Order of St. Benedict, to his sister, Claire. Spring 1471
There was very little risk in revealing to the Headmaster that Sakura was a sorceress. Even had he not sworn secrecy, it would be in his own best interests to keep quiet. Sakura had made certain that he knew how binding the non-interference policy was. Severus, as a blood relative, was all that allowed them to bend the law, and Dumbledore could ascertain, perhaps better than she could, how restricted her movements would be, how closely examined, should the true nature of their powers be made public. In their guises as unknown witches and wizards, they had the freedom to make their own decisions. There would be no outside influences pressuring them for their assistance, and the leaders of sorcerer society would have no reason to intervene.
And Dumbledore certainly did not know everything. Only when he had asked outright how powerful she was, had she told him that she was considered more powerful than many. He had nodded, and expressed concern that she and her friends would get into serious trouble with their government for what they were doing. Sakura had been forced to disguise a snicker as a cough. Very few would want to tangle with her, not to mention both Syaoran and Eriol.
It would have been more truthful to tell the Headmaster that she was the most powerful sorcerer in the world, but none of those in the Wizarding World would ever discover that if she could help it. Sakura wanted neither fear, awe, nor attention. In that, she could sympathize with Harry Potter.
In return, and with the hope that she would be able to better assist those who opposed Voldemort, Dumbledore had given her key information.
Horcruxes.
Sakura shuddered to think of it. To willingly tear your soul apart was unforgivable, but to do so seven times? If this Wizard War got out of hand, she would be among the first to put a stop to it.
She had promised him nothing, but he could likely see her determination to keep an eye out for such objects.
"When will you next return?" Dumbledore questioned.
"Not for another week," Sakura replied. "I can come back sooner if you need me though."
His brow furrowed in thought. "No, a week should be fine. There is something more, of extreme importance, that you must know. I shall tell you then."
He hesitated as he stood to escort her out. "Look after Severus for me, Sakura," Dumbledore requested softly. "Please."
"Of course," she said. "It was with that intent that I discovered this world, and it is with that intent that I remain."
The walk to the Entrance Hall was done in silence, each thinking over what the other had revealed. Midway there, they passed a blonde girl with radish earrings and a dreamy expression on her face.
"Good day, Miss Lovegood," Dumbledore said.
"Good day," she replied absently. Her eyes skittered over the Headmaster and landed on Sakura.
The sorceress' eyes widened, and she bowed low to the Ravenclaw girl. "Pleasant visions to you, and a future that is not fixed in stone."
For a brief moment Luna looked troubled before her smiling at Sakura. "You as well," she replied simply, and walked away.
When the Japanese girl turned to look at her companion she noticed that he appeared puzzled. "You did not know?" she asked.
"I did not," Dumbledore replied, mulling over the greeting in his head. His expression cleared, and he looked sympathetic. "Miss Lovegood is a Seer?"
She nodded. "A True Seer."
"And you as well," he continued in realization.
"Sometimes," she replied uncomfortably, looking away. "I can be."
"Tomoyo-chan," Sakura called out, recognizing the violet hair of her friend. "Ready?"
"Chotto matte," she called back, zooming in on something with her camcorder. "Just a moment."
"We had a rather difficult time getting her camera to work," Sakura confided. "Much more difficult than allowing her the ability to see the castle. But Eriol is a genius with spells."
He would have to be. Depending on how you looked at it, he'd been alive for decades or centuries, as one of the most skilled and innovative sorcerers in history.
Dumbledore looked startled as he realized the implication of her words. "Miss Daidouji is a Muggle?"
"Of course," Sakura replied absently.
The Headmaster wondered what was "of course" about it.
The next few moments passed in a whirl of voices and activity, as Tomoyo appeared at the Card Mistress' side, speaking excitedly. And then the two were gone, the halls once again quiet.
Severus had come to say goodbye, and Dumbledore examined his expression. To those who knew him well and looked carefully, it was not too difficult to see the slightly softened expression, the edge taken off of the Potions Master's scowl, and a certain affection lingering in his obsidian gaze.
"Sakura is good for you," the silver-haired wizard said softly.
The younger man turned his haunted gaze upon his superior. "Perhaps," he acknowledged. But I am no good for her."
Several days later, during a history exam, Sakura felt it. A wave of sadness and despair slammed into her so suddenly that it very nearly left her gasping. Her throat closed up with emotion almost immediately, and she struggled to keep from weeping.
"Kinomoto-san?" her professor questioned, concerned. "Daijoubu?"
Sakura swallowed with difficulty and barely managed to speak around the lump in her throat. "I'm fine." She wondered whether her reply was a statement or a question, but Ichiyomi-sensei seemed satisfied.
Unshed tears glimmered in her eyes, and she looked down at her test paper to keep others from noticing, her loose brown hair swinging forward to provide a measure of privacy. What on earth was going on? She sent her awareness out into the area, searching for something, anything, to explain this…this…
Premonition.
Her magic brushed up against Syaoran's, who seemed to have felt it – whatever it was – as well. He sent a feeling of comfort and the echo of a caress through the contact, and it was enough to calm her down so that she could think about the situation. Sakura came to the conclusion that something had happened in the Wizarding World. Had she not been tied down for the rest of the day by her classes, she would have teleported away immediately.
As it was, she gripped her pencil tightly, and attempted to concentrate on the test with varying degrees of success as she counted down the hours. Luckily she could sleep in a bit tomorrow.
She would get no sleep tonight.
Despite the bright sunlight, the early morning air was cool to the skin when a wary Sakura and Syaoran appeared before Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The castle seemed darker than they remembered, bleaker. For the first time, Sakura was reluctant to enter, and so her eyes darted away, scanning the grounds. Red hair caught her attention, and she focused on Ron Weasley, sitting with two other students under a large tree near the lake. Logic and corresponding hair color told her that Hermione Granger and Harry Potter sat with him.
Unwilling to break the fragile silence that seemed to permeate the air, Sakura tugged lightly at Syaoran's shirt to get his attention, and gestured in the students' direction. They approached quietly, unable to make out any words the trio quietly murmured to each other. They stopped speaking upon noticing the two, and Sakura could clearly see that they had been crying.
"What is it?" Sakura asked gently, dispensing with any greetings. "What's going on?"
"Sakura," Hermione said quietly, hesitantly. "Li…."
Unable to take it any longer, Ron replied bluntly, "Dumbledore's dead."
"What?" the sorceress gasped, reeling back in shock. He couldn't be. Not so soon. The poison had barely reached his heart.
Syaoran bowed his head, and moved to comfort Sakura as she blindly reached out to Hogwarts for confirmation.
The Headmaster is dead, the castle mourned. Long may the Headmistress reign.
"How?" Syaoran asked when it became clear that Sakura would not.
Rage burned deep within Harry's emerald green eyes as he leapt to his feet, hands clenched into fists. "Your uncle," he spat at the distressed girl, fueled by hatred and guilt. "Your slimy, traitorous bastard of an uncle murdered him."
"Harry!" Hermione said, aghast that he would be so vehement toward an innocent.
"No," Sakura whispered, reaching desperately for Syaoran. "He wouldn't have – he would never – "
"Of course he would have," the wizard replied bitterly. "Dumbledore begged him not to, on top of the Tower, but Snape simply sneered as he cast the Killing Curse. And then Dumbledore flew."
Sakura, Syaoran, Eriol, and Tomoyo returned several days later for the funeral. Eriol somehow managed to manipulate them into four chairs near the front row. No one asked how he had done it, and none of the wizards or witches seemed at all put out by it. Mainly because there was a spell firmly in place created to make the group unnoticeable.
"Intruders," Sakura hissed angrily through her tears, her head turned in the direction of a woman who greatly resembled a toad and her companion. "They cared nothing for the man. It's disrespectful. So many…. Dumbledore-sensei wouldn't have wanted so many people. But he would have been happy about the students and professors," she concluded wistfully.
"Sakura," Syaoran murmured softly, and pulled her close. She leaned against him, resting her head against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. He felt his shirt grow damp with tears.
Tomoyo was crying silently, and Eriol was looking unusually solemn. The two sat much closer to each other than they otherwise might have.
The eulogy did not do Albus Dumbledore justice, Sakura decided as she gazed at the people around her. There were very few dry eyes, and that was certainly not because of the small man's weak words.
There was one woman, however, who sat straight and tall, no tears gathering in her eyes or spilling down her cheeks. And yet Minerva McGonagall radiated such pain it felt almost as though it abraded Sakura's skin. Silently, Sakura reached out and touched her arm comfortingly. The witch glanced over at her in surprise, noticing her for the first time, and for a moment her façade crumbled. Devastation, despair, impotent fury, and frustration. All flickered through her dark eyes, shimmering with unshed tears. And then, in the blink of an eye, she was once again the stern, uptight Professor McGonagall.
Sakura sighed and reapplied the spell to make the four companions unnoticeable. Sakura's heart twisted in her chest when she saw with what regard the centaurs and the mermaids gave Albus Dumbledore. It was a magnificent sight, the sun glinting off of the serene lake, a rain of arrows and the haunting melody of merfolk song.
The four remained in their seats as the chairs emptied and the crowd dispersed. Then, while most people's attention had turned elsewhere, they positioned themselves around the tomb of the greatest wizard in a century, one at each cardinal point. The positioning was largely symbolic. It did not matter that Tomoyo had no magic.
A fire burst into being where Dumbledore's body lay, flaring up in a brilliant array of orange and yellow flames. The image of a phoenix shot free, and its brilliant melody echoed faintly around the clearing.
His spirit was free. He had begun his next great adventure, stepped off of this wheel of life, and onto the next.
When the fire blinked out of existence, Tomoyo and the sorcerers had disappeared.
Severus Snape, one of the most wanted wizards in the British Isles, crept silently along the edge of the Forbidden Forest. The grounds of Hogwarts appeared deserted, the trampled grass and brilliant white tomb the only signs of what had happened earlier that day. He stared at the resting place of his once-upon-a-time mentor, now victim, and blinked back tears he would swear were from staring into the sunlight.
The rustling of branches startled Severus from his thoughts, and he whipped around, shooting a Dark curse into the foliage of the large tree behind him. It bounced off some sort of shield, the air flashing pink on its rebound, and struck the ground next to him.
"You," he growled, meeting the green eyes of his niece.
"I thought you would come," Sakura said quietly.
"And what are you planning to do?" Severus questioned caustically. "Kill me? Capture me? Turn in the wizard who murdered Albus Dumbledore?"
"No," she replied. "Eriol figured it out, you know. He and Dumbledore-sensei are – were – scarily alike." She gripped the branch she stood on and swung down, landing lightly on the forest floor.
"I fail to see why I should not kill you here and now," he stated coldly.
"Even if you could, you wouldn't," Sakura said.
Her comment peaked his interest and infuriated him at the same time. "I've killed once already," he replied, an unholy light in his obsidian eyes.
"And you didn't want to. You would have given anything not to," she stated quietly, assuredly. "Eriol remembered when I told him that Dumbledore-sensei was dying. There wasn't a cure, nothing could stop it. And so he wanted his death to be meaningful."
"No," Severus mumbled, stumbling back. "Stop."
"He knew Draco Malfoy was no killer. Draco wasn't so Dark or cold-hearted as he pretended to be. And so the Headmaster came up with a plan." One he meant to confide to Sakura, when she returned, but had never gotten the chance to. It had been too late. Everything had happened too quickly.
The wizard shook his head in helpless denial, memories of countless arguments over the school year passing through his mind.
"You became Voldemort's most trusted and important Death Eater. Any suspicions about you turning traitor vanished. He would trust you as much as he trusted anyone.
"You would be the ideal spy."
Severus was startled to realize that Sakura was crying. For him?
He didn't realize that he had spoken that thought out loud until his niece replied, "Someone has to."
Because he wouldn't cry for himself. Severus Snape had forgotten how.
"Promise me that you will come see me. Whenever you need someplace else to stay, or to hide." He looked reluctant, so she continued on, hoping to appeal to his abundant curiosity. "Maybe you'll figure out how I can do this." She held out an arm, a stream of water twining around it in a spiral, seeming to catch and hold golden glimmers of sunlight. At last it gathered into an ever-moving ball in the palm of her hand, before slowly molding itself into the figure of a songbird, which immediately took flight.
The ease with which Sakura worked the magic, the complete lack of any wand or other device, shook him. He had suspected something was different about her and her friends, but never had he guessed at such power and strangeness.
"You're doing this on purpose," he stated, expressionlessly. Sakura shrugged, but she knew without a doubt that, when he needed it, he would seek out shelter at her house, if only to satisfy his curiosity.
Sakura and her friends ran into Harry, Ron, and Hermione on their way past the new Headmistress' office. The sorceress smiled half-heartedly at the trio.
"Sakura," Harry said hesitantly, and they stopped in the hallway. "I'm sorry for snapping at you the other day. I shouldn't take it out on you. You don't have any control over what sort of relatives you have." His fists clenched with the familiar anger he felt when speaking of Snape.
"It's all right," Sakura reassured him. "You were very distraught. We all cared about Dumbledore-sensei very much."
"I was surprised, though," Tomoyo commented absently. "I never thought he would beg for his life."
Hermione immediately looked troubled, and Eriol decided to add to her thoughts.
"Forgive me for asking, but the Unforgivables are fueled by hatred, correct?"
Harry nodded, an upset expression on his face. "More or less."
"Is that hatred required to be aimed at the victim of the spell?" the English sorcerer asked.
This time it was Hermione who answered. "No, it's simply hatred and anger in general, so long as it's not righteous anger."
"We should be going," Syaoran said. The seeds of doubt had been planted.
"You go on ahead," Sakura replied. "I think I will see McGonagall-sensei before I leave." She turned to the trio and bowed. "Goodbye. May we meet again under different circumstances."
Hogwarts, at Sakura's request, opened the way to the Head office, and Sakura made her way up the spiral stairs.
Minerva looked up from the papers on her desk in surprise as the girl made her way over to her. The interim Headmistress appeared wan and pale, expression strained, eyes determinedly dry. "Oh, hello Miss Kinomoto," she said faintly. "What can I help you with?"
She appeared surprised when Sakura made her way around the desk to stand next to her, a hand on the witch's shoulder.
"He was your best friend," Sakura said softly. "It's good to cry."
The mask crumbled, and Minerva McGonagall wept bitterly.