Albus Dumbledore was dead.
It was unthinkable. Unimaginable. World changing. For over one hundred and twenty years the world had revolved around his indomitable will. Albus Dumbledore: the greatest wizard who had ever walked the earth.
And now he was gone. And now Harry was alone.
Harry didn't know how long he stayed guarding Dumbledore's body. He was numb, unable to think. She Floo'd to the Burrow in a daze, taking her trunk from McGonagall in silence.
"The Burrow!" she said, her voice cracking.
The entire Weasley family was waiting for her.
"Surprise!" they shouted as she emerged. They were gathered in front of the kitchen table, underneath a colourful "Welcome Home!" banner. There was a half-eaten cake on the table, and they were all wearing party hats.
Harry felt a lump form in her throat, her vision blurring with the threat of tears.
No. She wouldn't cry. Not here. Not with the Weasleys. She tried to smile: a fragile, watery-eyed smile, but a smile nonetheless. Mrs. Weasley came to meet her, drawing her into a warm hug. Harry allowed her, and squeezed back hard, seeking the comfort of human contact. Back in Paris, he stirred, breaking out of the shock that had gripped him. As his mind began to work properly once more, the first thing he realised was that he couldn't stay. Who knew when Edwards would return?
"Boys, why don't you take Ginny's trunk to her room?" Mr. Weasley said. Harry's trunk was taken by the two Weasleys Harry had never met - Bill and Charlie. They each gave her a hug before levitating her stuff up the stairs. As they did, Mrs. Weasley cut Harry a generous slice of cake.
Harry wasn't hungry. He was looking for Dumbledore's wand - it felt wrong to leave it there, where anyone could take it - but he couldn't find it. Gingerly, he patted Dumbledore's clothes, trying to find it. The old man, who had seemed so vital in life, now felt incredibly frail.
"We would've arranged a proper party, but we only had a few minutes warning," said Charlie as he returned downstairs. "Luckily, we had some cake already."
"I- thank you," said Harry, and she meant it. She didn't want to be alone right now. "Really - this is great."
Bill laughed.
"It's okay, Ginny, you don't have to pretend," he said, grinning, "we know the cake has 'Happy Birthday' on it."
"Oh hush," said Mrs. Weasley, "what matters is she's home."
"It's good to be back," said Harry. It was true: she had loved her time at the Burrow over the previous summer, and it was great to be back in the happy home. Only the cheerfulness of the Weasley family was managing to keep at bay the powerful melancholy which threatened to overwhelm her.
Dumbledore was dead, and his wand was missing.
Harry hated it. He hated that someone had stolen Dumbledore's wand. He hated that he had to leave the man he had come to see as a grandfather. He hated that he had to run. But run he must. He gave Dumbledore's cold hand a final squeeze.
"Goodbye, Professor," he said, and then, remembering with sadness the joke he had shared often with the Headmaster, "goodbye, Albus."
Dumbledore had tried for two weeks to get Harry to call him that. It hurt, in that moment, that Harry had never fulfilled the old man's request. He walked away before he could begin crying again. He went straight to his room and drew his wand.
"Pack!" he said, performing the complex charm just as Dumbledore had shown him. He could almost feel the Headmaster's firm hand guiding his own. All his worldly goods jumped and shuffled into his trunk, before he frowned. There was no way he could carry the trunk around Paris, even if he used the Featherlight charm. It was just too conspicuous.
"So who's Sirius Black, anyway?" Ron asked as he helped himself to cake. Harry perked up, curious.
Molly frowned.
"No need to worry about that now," she said quickly, trying to avoid it, but she was ignored.
"Nasty business, that," said Bill as he took a seat at the table. "I was only ten at the time, but I remember it well. Blew up half a street with a single curse."
Ron's eyes widened.
"One curse?" Harry asked, shocked. She hadn't known magic could make such powerful explosions. No wonder they evacuated Hogwarts.
"One curse," confirmed Bill, grimacing. "Killed a wizard and a load of Muggles too."
"They say he was trained by You-Who-Know himself," added Charlie. "His second in command."
"You gotta wonder how he escaped," said Fred, "no one's ever done it before."
"Could come in handy, that, don't you think, Fred?" added George with a grin.
Mrs. Weasley gasped. "Boys! Don't even joke about that!"
"Come on, mum," said Fred, "you know we'd never go that far."
"Not unless we knew we could get away with it," said George.
"Enough, boys," said Mr. Weasley, and they fell silent. "Ginny, why don't you go and unpack?"
Harry was glad she remembered where Ginny's room was. She went upstairs and sat on her trunk, staring at the wall.
Harry decided to travel light. He couldn't take his clothes with him, and his school books could be easily replaced if he had to. He left his broom with more regret. Hopefully, he'd get it back once everything was sorted out. In the end he took his wand, his invisibility cloak, the photo album of his parents, and Dumbledore's dossier.
He left the house under the cloak. He saw no sign of Edwards, but that didn't mean he wasn't there. He had a plan. Edwards would pay for what he had done, but Harry knew he'd have to be careful. Edwards and his friends knew about Harry, and they'd be expecting him to do something. So instead of causing a fuss straight away, Harry would hide. And then tomorrow, he would find the Palais de Triomphe, sneak in under his invisibility cloak, and tell Michel Denaud what he had seen. The aurors would arrest Edwards before he could do anything about it, and there'd be a big trial, and all of Edwards' friends would be found out too.
And then Harry would return to Britain and stay with the Weasleys.
It was quite simple, really.
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