-Warning, graphic depictions of battlefield aftermath.-
"Uff" With a grunt, Hagrid set down the piece of rubble he had held up. A third-year student had been trapped under it and was now under the care of Madam Pomfrey. That was the last one. Sighing, his dinner plate sized hand brushed over his forehead, wiping away the sweat. The huge man looked out and felt a deep sadness as he watched the destruction. Most of the fires were put out by now but the smoke was still hanging in the air.
Everywhere were signs of the battle. Holes in buildings, craters in the street. The blacked spots where curses had hit or fires had burned. And of course the bodies. Professor Flitwick was busy summoning sheets of white cloth to cover the mortal remains of those who had fallen. Hagrid had mixed feelings looking at those forms. The smaller ones filled him with sadness. Twelve students had died in the fights, as far as he knew, all of them cut down before their time. Then anger when he saw black robes peak out under the white textiles. To attack children was the most heinous crime, Hagrid could think of and that alone was enough to make his blood boil.
He tried his best not to look further down the street. The crew of the Schmiedegeist had attacked the Death Eaters with the same effect that a sledgehammer had when hitting a grape. The whole street was covered in guts, body parts and gore. Dismembered arms and legs were scattered across the street and Hagrid, who had seen quite a few horrors in the last war felt sick only looking in the direction. The short bearded folk had left no one alive all the while singing in their grumbling grinding language. But they probably saved the town and these bastards had attacked innocent children, so Hagrid's pity was short-lived. He knew the dwarves didn't care. They weren't dark creatures, but dwarves had a different opinion on life. They just weren't human and their morals were just alien to the Half-Giant.
Instead of looking at the bodies, Hagrid turned towards the buildings and pushed some rubble to the side. It was moments like these when he noticed his missing magical education. While yes, his record had been cleared when after the whole Chamber of Secrets business two years ago, it was still a fact that he had only two and a half years in Hogwarts and he knew that he hadn't been the best student either. Rubeus knew he enjoyed the more simple things in life, living in nature and with animals. Yet, right now he would give all that up, just to be able to really help with healing the injured students or helping those who had lost their homes to the fires.
Sure he could lift things and carry huge weights but every third year was proficient enough with their Levitation that they could do the same things he did.
"Rubeus." Poppy's voice was bringing him back into reality as he turned his bearded face towards the medi-witch.
"W'at can I do for ya?" His rumbling voice was still soft and nice, no matter how imitating he looked.
"I need your help to get some of the students back to the school, please."
"Of course." Wiping the dust from his hand the gamekeeper followed her through the rubble until they came to one of the erected tents. Lifting the flap, which widened magically to let him in, he came into what could only be described as a full hospital. Quite a few of the teachers and citizens, all who had some resemblance to healer training were bustling about, helping students and residents alike. It was loud and chaotic but Madam Pomfrey cut through the mass like a hot knife through butter, shouting orders left and right. In all the panic and commotion she was the centre of calm. While walking through the room, she moved over to one corner, where screens concealed a portion of the tent. In front of it stood one of the Hufflepuff prefects, Amos Diggory's son, his arms crossed, while he stared out into the room. It was obvious that he wanted to help, to do something but he stayed firm. Madam Pomfrey came to a halt in front of him.
"Any problems Mr Diggory?" She asked with a clipped voice. The boy shook his head.
"Not really ma'am. Nothing I couldn't handle." The dark-haired teen unfolded his arms, stepping forward. He kept his voice low. Madam Pomfrey nodded and waved her hand.
"Thank you for your help. I will not keep you any longer."
The prefect nodded, moving into the tent with obvious purpose. To help. Hagrid smiled a little, while Poppy waved him around the curtain. Mr Diggory was a true Hufflepuff.
Behind the screen sat two students, both with bandages on their bodies. The first, with a determined look in his face, was a third-year Gryffindor, Colin Creevey. The other one was Lavender Brown, a girl from Harry's year. For a moment, Hagrid was confused. Why were there bandages on them? Why hasn't Poppy healed them? The only open wounds that couldn't be healed with the wand were...Oh.
Poppy looked both of them over. "There are a few more. I want you to bring them back to school without anyone seeing them. As you know your way through the forest, I thought you would be the best person. I think it goes without saying that this has to be kept under wraps."
Hagrid nodded glumly. For them to be bitten this young. A horrible thing to do. "Of course."
Slowly, Harry opened his eyes, blinking into the blurry room. Over him, there was the ceiling of his trunk room, he discerned from the blotchy colours and forms. He felt the warm rolled-up form of Dawn on his chest, their bond filled with the docil emotions of dreamless sleep. On reflex, he reached one hand out to her while the other searched his nightstand to grab his glasses, but those weren't there.
"Here you go." The voice of his godfather filled the room as the frames of the looked-for object into the palm of his hand. Putting them on, the boy sat up in his bed, holding his hand so that his companion wouldn't tumble down the sheets. He was right, he was in his room with Sirius sitting down on a chair next to his bed. The older man looked tired but fine, some smaller scratches on his cheek but that was basically it.
"Padfoot! I...Are you okay?" The dark-haired boy asked, while his fingers rubbed through Dawn's feathers. He had no need to ask for her well being as he could feel it as clear as his own body.
Sirius smiled brushing his hand through his hair. "Yeah, I'm good. A few smaller nicks and scraps, but some low ass punk won't keep your godfather down you know?" The tall black-haired man winked at him once. Then he turned a little more serious. "Mostly I was worried about you. Neville told me you encountered Bella."
Harry sat up more straight, shifting and almost making Dawn tumble into his lap. "Neville! Is he all right? What about Daphne and Astoria? They were there too!"
His godfather smirked at him, nodding. "Oh yeah, Nev did well. He even snapped Bella's wand! He is completely fine. The Greengrass girls are mostly okay too. Poppy had to treat Heiress Greengrass for Crutiatus Exposure though."
The black-haired boy in the bed didn't really relax, even though he was occupied with petting a grumpy Dawn. The small phoenix disliked being tumbled around so suddenly. "Oh, will she be all right?"
Taking a deep breath Lord Black nodded. "Yeah, it will take some time but she will be all right. I kind of pity Bella really. Lord Greengrass is the warpath and that man can be scary as hell, but then again I am pissed too and she is not even mine. That curse is no joke." His gaze got a little distant.
"Did...Did someone ever do that to you?" The boy asked carefully.
Sighing, the animagus nodded slowly. "Once. My Mum." For a moment he looked like he wouldn't say more but then he shook his head. "I came home from Hogwarts and instantly got into a fight with her. She had learned from Regulus, that I was seeing Marigold Tupal, a muggleborn Hufflepuff. You know my family. It didn't go over well with her at all. So we fought like we did most of the time when I was home. Then one thing led to another and, well. She had always a loose wand. So she did that. I am to this day not sure what she thought after. I never spoke to her ever again."
Harry reached out, placing his hand on Sirius knee. The older man looked like he was pulled back from distant memories. "What did you do?"
Sirius smiled. "I left. It was the day I went to your dad's." His smile got softer. "I was always welcome at the Potters. They gave me a room, clothes, fed me, housed me...loved me. They gave me a home. The first real home I ever knew. Your grandparents were really good people Prongslet."
The boy smiled a little sad. "I wish I would have known them."
"They loved you. Phemy was so thrilled to have a grandchild. She loved holding you, singing you songs, cuddling you. She was at your parents all the time. Lils actually got annoyed at some point. With me, Rem...Peter... and your grandmother coming in and out of the house all the time, especially when you were born, she had no quiet moment. Finally, she snapped and yelled at your grandmother. Took Fleamont to come over and mediate between the two. But then again it was the stress, with the war and all. Lily and Phemy always got along. But they worked it out. We all gave your parents a little room. Phemy said there would be so much time." Then Sirius's eyes turned sad again. "Two weeks later, they died." At Harry's curious look he sighed. "Death Eaters. We never found out who. But them being James's parents. Well, your parents were a prominent part of the Order, so...yeah. It was bound to happen since everybody knew where the Potter's lived."
"So, why did they not hide too?" The boy asked. He had no idea how to feel about this. On the one hand, it was his grandparents. But on the other hand, he had never known them and grandparents were something quite theoretical for him.
Looking out of the window, Sirius didn't answer instantly. "I'm not quite sure. James only said they wouldn't move in their high age and no Dark Lord would change that. I guess they were set in their ways and stuck to them no matter what. Flea could be like that. Stubborn as a mule the old chap. I remember one time in my first summer with them, he denied having eaten some of Phemy's chocolate cake, while still having brown smudges on his fingers." He laughed barkingly with a wide smile. "He always was this way. That man knew how to have fun. Given James' own mentality, the apple didn't fall far from the tree." Then the older man shrugged once. "I guess-"
Sirius was cut off at whatever he wanted to say when the door opened and Narcissa walked in. Sirius smiled at her.
"Ah Cissa, what is going on? The Wizengamot will not meet for another hour." Of course, after an attack like this the governing body would meet.
With long strides, Narcissa moved through the room and for the first time since waking up, Harry wondered where he even was. This didn't look like the Hospital Wing. Probably some room in the school somewhere. That made him think, how bad the situation must be when Madam Pomfrey would put him somewhere else. How many were injured...or worse, dead? Then his mind snapped back. His trunk. Yes. Harry's mind felt all fuzzy and weird.
Narcissa looked weird, too. It was obvious that she had cried, holding herself up, but her eyes were red-rimmed. Still, she held her head high as she leaned down speaking quietly with Sirius but not quite enough to keep it from Harry.
"There has been some development. Someone ha..." She broke off, blinking again tears back. "Siri, can I talk to you, it is really important. You know I wouldn't ask if it wasn't. Please!" Her hand gripped ahold of Sirius shoulder, who in turn looked surprised, before turning to the black-haired boy in the bed. "Would it be okay if I-"
"Of course! I'm okay, really. Dawn will keep me company." The boy interrupted. He knew, his godfather wanted him close and safe, but still. Narcissa looked like it was serious business.
"I'll ask Remus to come, in case you need something." He then leaned forward and hugged his godson before standing up, following Narcissa out of the room.
A vase shattered at the wall. "DAMN! DAMN! DAMN!" The scream that tore through the house silenced most of the occupants. The room was in shambles. Everywhere pieces of broken furniture, shredded clothing and sheets and still more devastation were laid across the floor.
"DAMN!" The woman breaking the room screamed one more time before she dropped to her knees, starting to shake in sobs. "Why?" Bellatrix cried out, shaking and shivering. Her arms hugged herself close as she rocked back and forth.
"He...he rejected me. My baby rejected me. I...Why? What did dear Bella do wrong? Was I not good enough?" She gnawed at her lips so hard she tasted blood. Not good enough. That... Not a Black anymore. Not a mother. Everything she held dear seemed to slip away from her fingertips. Everything felt empty and void. Her fingers clawed at her upper arm and kept scratching while she whispered to herself.
" There is nothing. Nothing left. What is even the point? What is there out there in the world for me? No family, no Nev, no deserving master. Just...just nothing." While she whispered, she picked up the wand. It was a new one. Stabbing the former owner with a knife had been quite easy. She didn't even remember his face. But it felt not right. Like trying to write with your left hand, even though you are righthanded. Still, she had enough control to slash her wand out, cutting into the wall. "What to do now? What Bella what will you do? You could..." She murmured and thought. Well, she could start killing people in this house. One by one, until someone, like the Dark Lord, stopped her. Hopefully killed her. That was an idea. To die. Not by her own hands of course. She was a Black, no matter what her thrice-damned cousin said. And Black didn't commit suicide. That just wouldn't do. Blacks were killed or died of old age. That was how it was. She would just have to create the right circumstance. Just killing everybody now? That wouldn't be right. That had not the gravitas that being a Black required.
She would wait, wait and see. And then when the stage was big enough, she could die. Orrrrr, maybe she should still find her Nev. He was her baby after all and one fallback shouldn't stop a mother. Also, children did tend to act out, test the limits. Yes, that was more important. She shook herself standing up. There were more important things than being killed. She had no time to die. She would have to find a better wand. One that was strong enough so she could cast Imperius. Then her little Nev would be more agreeable.
Draco fiddled with his thumbs staring at the floor. For a moment he continued, but then he remembered his mother's voice. Chiding him for the lack of composure and fines. So he stuffed his hands in his pockets, turning to the window instead. But as he looked out, he felt bile rise. Smoke still rose from Hogsmead in the direction of the school. He had never wanted this. Yes, he wanted to be recognised as being special, as all the this his father had promised him since the time he could listen to him, but not like this.
He had done horrible things. Things he was not proud of. Not in the slightest. But it had always been to strangers, to adults, to muggles. When he turned down his eyes only for a moment, he saw students being carried into the school on stretchers. Students he knew.
He was back in the main hall, he couldn't stop thinking about it. There had been some sort of morbid force that had him come there, watch as the injured were carried in. Quite a few were carried in, those stable enough to be transported. Some walked by themselves, arms in slings, bandages around their head. Then had come a stretcher with someone he knew.
Pansy. She had been hurt. She was covered from the chest down with a cloth. A cloth that ended way too high up to cover her legs. Yet no legs were peeking out from under the white fabric. And the empty look in her eyes as she was carried past him. Still red from tears of pain and loss. She had stretched out her hand to him, weakly, gripping for him. And he had run. Because of him, she was hurt.
Someone he laughed with, someone he was close to. Yes, she had been annoying with her entire 'We will get married' thing but she was also fun. Quite a lot even. She was someone he could relate to. She understood being under pressure to perform. They had talked about this in the dark, late in the common room. Her whole family put much pressure on her to 'secure' Draco. Not able to make her own decisions. Out of fear of what would happen.
And he had never understood. Never really. Not until today. He could have saved them. Warned them. He could have stood up and told anyone about the warning. Not message Greengrass anonymously in the hope she would do something. That she would tell everybody and he could live in limbo for a little longer. Had hoped stupidly that it would be simple. Those who were pure would be unharmed. His friends and family. But he couldn't. Pansy was as pureblood as him, her grandfather was a death eater. That should have protected her. He now had to make a final choice. He could stay as he was, not change and maybe he would survive. Maybe the Dark Lord was merciful in his victory, even though Draco doubted it. He could try to ruffle no feathers.
Or he could man up. Do the noble thing. Step up and be a man. There was this moment of clearity. He could either stand with his father, like he had always done, hiding behind his leg. Or stand with his mother.
Again in his inside, he saw the white sheet before his eyes, hiding and still showing what there was.
Running and hiding or standing up for himself. He knew what his upbringing told him to do. So he raised his wand and tapped a piece of parchment, one he had written and turned over and over and over for the last hour. Now he did it, before he could talk himself out of it again. The parchment folded itself into a neat bird and fluttered out of the room. The blond sighed, feeling hollow inside. He had made his decision. Maybe for the first time in his life he had made a real decision by himself. He hoped it wouldn't damn him or his friends. His eyes were on the door, where the message had just left.
-Mother I would like to talk to Lord Black. It is important.-
Today is a relatively short chapter, as I saw this as a chance to talk a little bit.
As all who follow this story noticed, it got quiet around me. For over a year, there was no new chapter. I think quite a few thought there will never be another one. I feared the same. I still fear that I will never finish this story. Not that I want that. The story is still on my mind. It still taunts me, with being rather close to the finish line. There isn't quite that much to still talk about. So I vowed to myself that I would finish this story.
But the last two years were quite weird. I threw myself into Pen&Paper (like I played three days a week D&D, of which I mastered two and then one day World of Darkness, plus rounds at the weekend) and I noticed my creative energy is spent planning that. Also, I read a lot of story theory, what works and what doesn't and I feel this story is substandard. A lot of mistakes in this one.
But I still vowed to finish this story. So here is what happens. I will finish this story. Maybe not fast, but hell or high water I will see it through to the end. It might not be the best HP story out there but damn this is mine. And I will finish it. First I must reread it as I myself haven't read it in over 2 years from start to finish and I fear there a quite a few plot points I lost over time. See what works and what not and then I will get done.
Also, I will try to get more, shorter chapters out there. I had quite a chip on my shoulder 'No chapter under 5000 words' and that hinders me more than anything. It is this abitrary number that I set for myself and this chapter was 60% finished for almost a year and I just couldn't get it on. So shorter chapters but more frequent. See how this goes and go from there. I hope to finish this story in the next six months, but I can't promise that.