A/N: HOLD UP. Did you read Ch. 64 first? This is a double post!

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Chapter 65: Of the Boy Who Lived

Rowan felt as if she'd been in Dumbledore's office for days. Hours and hours had passed without seeing anyone. Minister Bagnold had sent word an hour after she'd left earlier that morning that Sirius had been apprehended and was now in the Ministry's custody, and Dumbledore departed for the Ministry soon after, leaving Rowan alone in his office. Mina was also safe and being questioned by the Ministry, but Remus was nowhere to be found. She wasn't even sure why she remained there - for what was she even waiting at this point?

Peter was dead.

After the grief that she'd spilled for James and Lily, she almost had none left for poor Peter. It didn't seem right - she should be mourning just as much for the meek man - but her body felt like an empty, used-up shell. She had no more tears to give, no more sobs in her lungs. Her eyes were pink and swollen and heavy. Her throat was sore from weeping. She simply sat in one of Dumbledore's old chairs, drifting in and out of a dreamless sleep.

The sky was now a deep shade of magenta and orange - she glanced dully up at the clock. It was 5:42 p.m. The sun set so early at this time of year. The darkness only seemed to magnify the echoing silence within her.

She wanted to see Mina, to see Remus, but she had no idea how. She didn't even know where Remus was. She couldn't imagine how Mina must be feeling, knowing what Sirius had done. Dumbledore had said that Mina and Remus had been there when they'd arrested Sirius. They'd seen him kill Peter. It all seemed like a terrible dream, like she could wake at any moment. But the warm stinging in her eyes remained, reminding her heavily of the grief they'd already leaked, and she knew bitterly that it was no dream. James and Lily were gone.

Remus - she wanted to see Remus, but she had no idea where he'd gone. Amazingly, tears began to leak again. She was torn between despair and amazement at how she still had any tears left to shed. She wanted Remus, wanted James. Her lungs seized again as she realized again the horrible truth - she would never see her best friend again.

There was the soft sound of creaking from the doorway below, and Rowan turned heavily to face the approaching footsteps. There were two people coming - Dumbledore and-

"Hagrid?"

Rowan sat up as she saw the two tall men enter. The massive Hogwarts groundskeeper greeted her tearily with a small smile then looked down into his arms. Rowan's breath caught.

"Oh my god," she gasped, leaping to her feet.

Harry!

Rowan rushed forward to the gentle giant and held out her arms, where he placed the small bundle. She saw Harry peering up at her with confused eyes, mouth twisting slightly, but then his expression softened with recognition. He gurgled a bit and held his hands up, as if to embrace her. Her chest tightened painfully again.

"Oh, Harry," she whispered. She held him to her tightly, burying her face against him. He was so warm, so whole, so safe - this tiny boy, this last remainder of her dearest friends. Her tears spilled against his chubby cheek, and she pulled away. Her eyes strained to focus through her tears before settling on the red mark on his forehead. She blinked away the tears and frowned. Her fingers shot to the blaring cut.

"What happened to him?" she asked anxiously.

A deep red gash marred his otherwise perfectly soft skin. His forehead bore a new cut, shaped like a lightning bolt. It was bright and harsh against his pale face. Rowan bristled at the sight of it. Her fingers danced along its edges nervously.

Dumbledore's gaze softened. "Please sit down, Rowan. We have much to discuss," he said quietly. Rowan looked back up at him, frowning deeply, before nodding and walking back to the seat she'd occupied nearly all day. She held Harry to her still. Hagrid joined them on a long loveseat, which creaked slightly under his weight.

As Dumbledore seated himself behind his desk, he waved his hand gently, lighting a few lamps around them. The low sun outside was setting on the horizon, leaving long shadows in its wake. The Headmaster's office now glowed a faint yellow, illuminating the tall wizard's face dauntingly.

"As I said earlier, Lord Voldemort has fallen," he began gravely. Rowan nodded, though the very idea still seemed ludicrous. "And as I also said, I have a couple of theories as to what happened last night at Godric's Hollow, and they all revolve around Harry."

Rowan frowned and looked down at her godson. He was blinking sleepily, a couple of fingers in his mouth. Her frown deepened. Nothing was clicking.

"I don't understand," she said quietly. "I'm sorry... What about Sirius? Could you start at the beginning?" she asked confusedly. Her mind was so tired, dragging heavily. She tried desperately to sort out the sequence of events, but it was growing harder and harder to even figure out what day it was. Dumbledore nodded sympathetically.

"As far as we can tell, Sirius betrayed James and Lily's secret to Lord Voldemort, allowing him to enter the Potters' home in Godric's Hollow, sometime right before midnight last night. The Ministry has been interrogating him all day, but..."

Dumbledore's mouth twisted and paused. Rowan held Harry a bit tighter.

"He's refusing to speak to anyone, even me or Mina," he said quietly. Rowan's brow furrowed with confusion. "He says Peter killed them, but that he also killed them. We've tried to get him to explain his claims, but he seems locked in his reticence. All we can do now is wait to see if he begins to talk."

Rowan's stomach churned. None of it made sense. Both he and Peter had killed the Potters...? She pushed the thought away hard and looked back up to Dumbledore for the rest of the story.

"From what we can gather from Godric's Hollow, what happened last night is this: Lord Voldemort entered the house shortly before midnight. Lily ran upstairs and locked herself in Harry's room while James remained behind to hold him off. I'm sure you can piece together what happened after," he said softly.

Rowan's entire body trembled. Images of James and the old house of her childhood playdates flashed through her mind. She saw James' eyes burning angrily and a faceless dark wizard looming over him.

"Lord Voldemort then followed Lily upstairs. This is where all we can do is speculate for now."

Dumbledore paused and sighed. The sounds of soft sniffling were heard from Hagrid. Harry gurgled quietly.

"What I believe happened - why Harry is still alive and Lord Voldemort is not - is that Lord Voldemort made a grave error in killing Lily," he said.

Rowan frowned with confusion. What...?

"Lily Potter was not supposed to die last night... Harry was."

Rowan's grip on Harry tightened further. He whimpered slightly at the heat, but Rowan wouldn't let go. She stared fearfully at Dumbledore to continue.

"But... why?" she breathed. "I don't... He's just a baby..."

Dumbledore watched her carefully. His stare remained passive. She knew he must be thinking something - a man that intelligent, that calculating, must be - but she couldn't read his expression. She felt herself drawing up her own mental walls instinctively.

"I do not know why," he said finally.

Rowan held his gaze. His expression hadn't changed at all, but she felt a decisive barrier between them. She could feel it erupting from the space between them, blocking her out. Surely, he knew more, right? Was he just not telling her?

"You received a prophecy earlier this year," she whispered, "a prophecy about James and Lily - it was about Harry, wasn't it?" She heard Mina's warnings in the back of her mind distantly. She remembered her promise to her friend but found the words slipping through before she could stop herself. She stared defiantly up at the Headmaster, daring him to deny it.

Dumbledore's expression didn't change, still, holding her gaze evenly. Rowan felt anger bubbling at the pit of her stomach. She could feel it threatening to burst at any moment.

"Yes," he finally admitted quietly, "but I cannot tell you yet. I wish I could." He looked down to Harry. Sorrow pulled from his eyes. Rowan watched him warily, as if he, too, would attack her godson.

Bitterness suddenly welled up within her. It bubbled and frothed, coating her stomach acidly. She felt it threaten to push up her throat. Her lips trembled. She looked down at her godson's tiny face. He blinked sleepily up at her, fingers clumsily running over the cut at his forehead. It was still so bright, even in the darkness. It didn't belong there.

"You knew all along that he'd be coming for Harry, didn't you?" she whispered.

She didn't look up to meet his gaze. She couldn't stand to even look at him. The Headmaster she'd always revered - just how little information did he give them? How long had he known?

"You could have prevented all of this," she spat bitterly. She heard Hagrid bristle from the perimeter, but she didn't care. "If you'd told them sooner - if you'd pushed them harder, they would have listened to you! They would have let you be the Secret Keeper, and none of this would have happened!" She could barely comprehend her own words anymore. They made little sense anymore. But the pain in her heart was so excruciating. She wanted him to feel it. She wanted everyone to feel it!

"If you'd just told them the truth, they wouldn't have had to die," she accused angrily. Her voice shook with fury, shoulders trembling. "They'd still be here!"

Silence filled the space between them. With each minute that passed, she felt that invisible wall between them push upward brick by brick. She felt as if she and Harry were the only two people left on earth - alone in their tiny, dark corner of the world. Alone.

"I'm sorry, Rowan," Dumbledore whispered finally.

She shook her head silently, keeping her gaze downward. Her face bowed over Harry's. She wanted to shield them both. Nothing else would harm him as long as she was there to protect him.

"There are things that I have kept to myself, things that I thought unnecessary to tell all of you," the old wizard continued quietly. "But you must believe me when I say that it was not to deceive you. I simply wished to protect all of you from things that I believed were too heavy to bear. If I had known-" She heard his voice quiver with emotion. "If I had known, I would never have let them stay. I would have never stood aside to let Sirius be their Secret Keeper."

Rowan didn't know how to respond, so she kept her eyes cast downwards at Harry's now sleeping face. She still felt the anger seething in her stomach, but it was quieter now, like the fizzling remnants of fire.

"What happens now?" she whispered.

Dumbledore paused again, and Rowan felt the knot in her stomach tighten.

"I must take Harry... to live with Lily's sister Petunia."

Rowan's breath left her.

"What?" she hissed. She clutched Harry to her chest instinctively, head jerking up towards the wizard again. "You can't be serious! Do you have any idea what those people are like? They'll put him through hell!" She thought of all of Lily's stories about her sister Petunia and the terrible man that she'd married. Lily had been distraught at her sister's rejection, but Rowan held no sympathy for the woman. As far as she was concerned, anyone who could reject Lily's love deserved no kindness from her. She'd imagined numerous times the harsh words she'd have for Petunia Dursley were she to ever meet her. "I'm his godmother! He should be with me!"

Dumbledore grimaced but shook his head. "If this were under normal circumstances, then yes, that would be right," he said softly, "but there are still Death Eaters out there who will be looking for Harry, and no matter how strong of a witch you are, you can't always be there to protect him; however, Lily's last protective spell will remain strong as long as Harry is in the custody of one of her blood relatives. It is safest for him if he goes with them."

Rowan's head was shaking dumbly, face pressed against Harry's. He slept soundly, but her tears fell wetly around them. She'd lost James, Lily, Peter and Sirius - and now she was losing Harry too! She couldn't believe it, didn't want to! How was this happening? When would she wake up from this terrible dream?

"I'm so sorry, Rowan," Dumbledore said sadly.

Rowan continued to rock Harry quietly, muffling her sobs in his blanket. She could feel the foundations of her world crumbling around her. Her best friends were gone, and now here godson was leaving her too. James - James. She imagined his bright eyes, his boyish grin. He had left her behind again.

"This is so unfair," she sobbed. James and Lily were leaving her to walk on alone, and now, Sirius and Peter, too. "Why are all of you leaving me alone?"

Minutes passed - she didn't know how many. When she lifted her head again, the sun had completely set, leaving the room awash in blacks and blues and faint yellow light. Dumbledore's eyes were dry, but his head was bowed contritely. Hagrid could still be heard sniffling from the loveseat. Rowan wiped some of the now cold tears from her face, too exhausted now to be concerned about appearances. She looked up at the Headmaster, who had raised his gaze to meet hers.

"When does he go?" she whispered hoarsely.

Dumbledore's mouth twisted sadly, and she knew the answer. "We'll be taking him tonight - as soon as possible."

Rowan nodded and then looked back down at Harry. He was asleep still, lips parted slightly. The red cut on his forehead remained fresh and bright against his skin. It was nothing compared to the injuries she and her comrades had sustained over the past years of war, but it seemed so much harsher against his tiny face. She had wanted to fight so that he would never know such injuries, and yet, he'd lost perhaps more than they all had without even being able to utter a word in protest. She felt the tremors in her lungs again before swallowing them away.

Dumbledore saw the resolution in her face and nodded to Hagrid, who stood with a trembling sigh. The loveseat creaked beneath his weight as he shifted to his feet and moved to Rowan. She stood to meet him but held Harry close to her a moment longer.

She looked down at his face and tried to memorize every line and curve. She saw both James and Lily in his face and knew that this was the last piece of them - the most precious piece - that was left in this world. When would she see him again?

She felt eerily still as the giant groundskeeper approached her. She kept her gaze on Harry's face, soaking in every detail of his form. This precious child - he was such a good boy, such a sweet boy. There were so many things she wouldn't be able to tell him, to share with him.

As she felt his weight being lifted from her arms, panic shot through again. Her lungs spasmed and seized, gasping for air as she saw his tiny form being pulled from her. Her fingers continued to grip onto his blanket of their own accord before finally being pulled from her grasp. She nearly doubled over as her stomach clenched painfully but willed her eyes to remain on Harry. Hagrid's tears had also begun to fall again in large, rolling drops, but he silently took the precious bundle from her into his gentle arms. He looked to Dumbledore once more - he nodded - before turning for the door. He hesitated, looking back at Rowan's trembling form. Rowan burned the final image of Harry into her mind before Hagrid turned away, and with a few long strides, he was out the door, closing it behind him with a soft click.

Rowan let the weight crash into her painfully. She didn't hear Dumbledore's consoling words or feel the old wizard's long arms circle around her. She clenched her eyes closed, shut off her ears. The faintest of light, the softest of sounds - it was too much to bear. She wanted to be swallowed by the darkness, to not feel, to not see. Her entire body shook beyond her control. She couldn't stand, couldn't see the room around her. She wept unabashedly, her sobs and wails coming in a torrential downpour. They seemed to grip her very core, whipping her innards to and fro, like the winds of a storm. Somewhere, faintly, she heard Dumbledore muttering a spell. It sounded like the soft whispering of a breeze, and then a cool wave overtook her. The breath in her lungs seemed to smoke away. Her limbs seemed to drift out, like she was floating in the cool waters of the ocean.

"Do you know what they're calling him - what they're calling Harry?"

That voice - it was so distant. Did she know it? She shook her head dumbly. No - what were they calling him? She could feel the sun on her face.

"They're calling him the Boy Who Lived."

Rowan felt her lips twitch upward into a smile. The Boy Who Lived - oh, she hoped he truly lived. She hoped that he knew how very much she loved him, how much he was loved by them all. She hoped he was happy.

She was floating, gasping, the warm air of the ocean filling her lungs. And then there was white. So much white. And she was gone.