CH16: Fleeting Friends

September 14th

3:21pm

Black Chateau, Isle of Man

Harry

The south western part of the camp lay in disarray, a haunting reminder of the inferno that had consumed it the night before. Tents, once vibrant and welcoming, now stood ashen and ruined, their skeletal frames casting shadows over the desolate landscape. The medical tent had been abandoned entirely, having been deemed not worth the effort of repairing it should something similar happen again.

Amidst the ruins, people milled about aimlessly, their faces etched with weariness and sorrow. The air was heavy with the scent of charred wood and lingering despair. Each of them understood the gravity of the night before, none of them were under the delusion that it was an errant 'incendio' that devastated a quarter of the camp. Under the despair and hunger, laid distrust, everyone was a traitor in each other's eyes at least until the real traitors were rooted out.

Near the cliff front apparition platform, a construction project was underway. Stones lay scattered nearby, forming the beginnings of a new medical building—a testament to the resilience of those determined to rebuild even in the face of adversity.

Behind the main house, the fire that had ravaged one of the two greenhouses had left its mark. Twisted metal and shattered glass characterised the messy pile of material that used to be greenhouse one. The meagre food production, already strained, had been further diminished, casting a long shadow over the community.

In the meeting room, Harry gathered with the inner circle of trust—Mad-Eye Moody, Daphne, Blaise, Neville, Remus, Tonks, and Damien. The air was tense with a mixture of frustration and urgency.

Moody's gravelly voice broke the silence, reporting on the ongoing reconnaissance mission into the muggle world. "The scouts have reported four mega food compounds on the isle, the nearest of which being just a short ten kilometres north west from the chateau." Moody sighed as if to brace himself before he continued, "I know we aren't going to raid it, but it need be said… just one of the compounds would set us up nicely for months."

Harry shook his head. "No," he said, with reluctant determination in his voice. "We can't risk muggle retaliation, not when we don't know the capabilities of their weapons."

"How do they get the food there from their farms?" Damien asked inquisitively. With prior knowledge of the muggle world, he was hoping to find some angle that they hadn't considered.

"Trucks, the occasional helicopter with a large bundle of crates attached to the bottom," Moody's grim smile alluded to the value of auror intelligence with traitors abreast, "or so I'm told."

"If we can't trust the aurors then we'll need to use Dobby to see exactly what and how much the muggles are producing." Harry could see eager eyes light up at the prospect of him changing his mind. "We may be able to learn something from them, something that'll give us an edge in our food production."

"Speaking of trust," Daphne bridged the conversation, "there are developments in the case of Hermione's murder." Daphne's gaze swept across the gathered faces in the meeting room, her eyes reflecting the suspicion that her role required. "We've identified at least five individuals who have been acting extremely suspiciously," she began, her tone measured but firm. "However, we don't have enough information to identify their leader. All we know is that he goes by the name 'Godwyn.'" She paused, allowing the gravity of her words to settle in the room before continuing. "These traitors, as you all know, stole the food from the greenhouse that burnt down. They're likely using it as leverage to recruit others to their insurrection."

Blaise, his frustration palpable, pounded the table with his fist. "Enough of this hesitation! We know who five of them are. Let's bag them up, force the information out of them, by any means necessary!"

'And watch those that remain leave or lash out violently?' Harry's response was swift, his voice cutting through the tension. "No. They are still under my protection until we can prove their guilt. We can't sacrifice our people for the sake of expediency, most of them are hungry and scared."

"It's not such a terrible idea Harry." Daphne's voice against him gave life to Blaise, the Italian's rage was all consuming, Harry wondered if the death of those responsible would even bring him closure. "If we can get them out of the way then this 'Godwyn' will struggle to cause any real damage."

"And how do I explain people up and disappearing? Even further, what's to stop Godwyn from using those disappearances to bring more people to his cause?" Harry's argument was met with silence, taking that for meaning no one had an answer to his question he pressed on. "People came here to escape random kidnapping, until we have sufficient evidence, other than overheard conversations, they will remain under my care."

Blaise's eyes narrowed, a fiery determination burning in them. "Principles won't help us, Harry! We need to act, and we need to act now!"

Harry's gaze remained steady, unwavering. "We act with justice, Blaise. We are not beasts."

Blaise's frustration reached its peak, and he spat out accusing words. "Coward! You never deserved Hermione's friendship." The boy wrenched himself from his chair and angrily made a show of stomping away.

"Zabini." Blaise stopped in his tracks, Harry's commanding tone having that effect. Harry rose from his chair slowly and stared the Slytherin down. "If you think your grief entitles you to childish outbursts then you're mistaken. I grieve for her, that is why I intend to honour her spirit, maybe you should reflect on whether your crusade is for her or for yourself." With those cutting words, Blaise stormed out of the meeting hall, leaving an uneasy silence in his wake.

The room remained tense, the conflict between justice and expediency as potent as ever. Harry's commitment to his principles went against his own desires but he knew that the only way to see them through this particular storm was to listen to Daphne's advice and trust that she would complete her mission.

"Let's pick this up again after Dobby's had a chance to identify what and how much the muggles bring to those camps, maybe we can syphon some of it out in transit." Harry's dismissal couldn't have come sooner, it seemed, as everyone rushed to leave the clouded atmosphere of the meeting hall.

Harry soon followed his friends in leaving the hall and made for the front door, stepped out into the open air of the grounds and immediately noticed something missing to his left. The Weasley's tent was packed up and a flock of redheads were all hugging each other intensely as though it was their last time seeing each other. Harry wandered over to the congregation and met Mr Weasley's eyes with confusion.

"Harry," Arthur began with a sad smile, "we've decided to return to the Burrow. Molly and I believe we'll be safer than here. We miss our rickety old house."

'Safer? You don't think I can keep you and your family safe?' Harry forced his features to shift to one of worry. "Arthur, it's still safe here at the camp. But I understand if you feel you need to leave."

Arthur shook his head gently. "Molly and I have made up our minds, Harry. But the twins and Bill, they've chosen to stay. They're loyal to you and the cause." Arthur's eyes had nothing but pride for his three sons that had chosen to stay, even if behind that was a parent's fear.

Harry nodded, accepting the decision. He shook Arthur's hand, there wasn't much Arthur Weasley could do to lose Harry's respect and so he decided to part with the man on the best of terms. "You've always got a place at the chateau, Arthur. Farewell, and take care of the family."

If Harry's easy acceptance troubled him, Arthur made no indication of it. He simply nodded and guided Molly and Ginny onto the main path down the camp. Mrs Weasley offered Harry a small grateful smile when she turned to give the camp a last look.

'All is forgiven then, I don't deserve it.'

As the Weasleys departed, their figures fading into the sea of tents, Harry found himself drawn to the cliff face—the same place where he and Daphne had shared many a morning meditating. He passed the Twin's tent and the grassy edge of the grounds. The descent down to the meditation spot would seem sketchy to those who didn't know the way as it was a loosely defined staircase down the face of the rocks but fortunately he made it with no scares of an evening dive into the sea.

Harry took out the elder wand and conjured himself a cushion then placed the wand to the side as he sat down. The sea was calm below him, a slight breeze caressed his face. And yet none of that quelled the emotional chaos that coursed through his veins

It was just anger and hate, at those who had harmed Hermione and at himself for allowing it to happen. Every time he gave himself a moment to think, his thoughts would wander to the lifeless face of his best friend or the panic in the eyes of his people as they escaped the flames engulfing their new home.

'She died thinking the worst of me.' His face scrunched up at the thought. The next Voldemort she had called him and with every instinct in his bones telling him to protect his own, maybe she wasn't so far off. 'How can I keep them all safe if I can't even protect those closest to me?'

Even now his thoughts were not only impacting his mood but his magic as well. In his meditative state, he could feel the magic in his blood and it felt like molten iron. The forge that was his core churned out magic mixed with grief and turmoil.

Closing his eyes, Harry attempted to feel his magic, seeking a connection with the power that surged within him. It came much easier than the start, easier still after the separation. In mere seconds he could feel his control on the magic within mounting.

'Reveal the master, reveal the master.' His silent chants had helped him in the past, Salazar's instructions had more value than he'd known. But it was counterproductive for in remembering Salazar and the ritual, he visualised Hermione's corpse once more.

"Merlin be damned," Harry cursed as he rose from his seated position, his attempt at meditation abandoned. "Why can't I escape you, I don't want to remember you this way!"

As he yelled 'way' to none but the tide, his meditation techniques came back to bite him. His volatile emotional and magical state caused a chain reaction and at the apex of his frustration, he accidentally conjured fire in his hands. A psychological response to the flames that had plagued the grounds mere nights before, coming back to haunt him at his lowest.

"Agh bloody fucking ow, finite." Fire is fire, even conjured by a wizard. Harry glared at his throbbing hands before taking a deep breath in to calm himself. It was tempting to scream out and rage at the cruelty of the universe but at the risk of another self-inflicted injury, he simply collapsed.

He barely registered it when he fell to his knees but the tears were frequent enough to not go unnoticed. They fogged his glasses and left hot streaks down his cheeks and neck. Harry rested his back against the cliff face and began to well and truly sob.

'I'm so sorry Hermione, Ron… I never wanted any of this.' Absent-mindedly he began repairing the damage to his hands, a neglected part of his psyche relishing the wandless practice. 'I loved you both so much, I should've said it at least once before…'

It all came spilling out, anguished cries, unprocessed grief, the helplessness he was beginning to feel all the time. He sat on that cliff side alone for hours, doing his best to remember his friends fondly. Memories of simpler days where they solved mysteries or studied or just laughed by the Gryffindor common room fireplace. It made him remember that they were still teenagers, they had their whole lives ahead of them until it was unjustly stolen. How he longed for a world where the next exam was the worry of the week and not whether they'd be eating that day.

'Sirius is right, we did deserve better and so does everyone else in this camp.' He sniffled and wiped the last tears from his eyes, the moon now rising over the sea. 'I'll try,' he solemnly vowed, 'and I'll never stop trying. For you, for the both of you.'