CH18: Death of a Dream

September 25th

10:08am

Black Chateau Grounds, Isle of Man

Harry

The night was unusually chilly as the loyalist command gathered to bid farewell to one of its fallen heroes, Remus Lupin. The cutting curse he had endured nearly completely severed his head from its shoulders, no amount of healing would be able to save the intelligent man.

'I'll never forget the look on his face, he seemed… happy? At least his final moments were peaceful.'

A mournful tune, sung by a choir of witches and wizards, echoing the sombre mood that had enveloped the grieving community. Amidst the mourners, Remus' coffin rested at the base of a hill, waiting for its final journey. It was nothing extravagant, Tonks and Sirius both just wanted to put Remus to rest as quickly as possible.

As the choir's voices filled the night, Remus's coffin was gently levitated into the air by a group of witches and wizards. It ascended the hill, drawn towards the flickering flames of the funeral pyre that awaited him.

Once the coffin was in place, the crowd watched as the flames began to consume it, sending their beloved Remus on his journey to the afterlife. The mourners felt the warmth of the fire against the cold night, a stark reminder of the battles they had fought and the sacrifices they had made.

None were more affected than Tonks. Having spent the whole night crying, her face was red and crusty. Most obvious of her grief was that her shirt still carried the stains of Remus and the traitor's blood, having either forgotten or not noticed the state it was in.

As the flames crackled and danced, Tonks glanced at Harry, her eyes filled with a mixture of grief and something frighteningly familiar.

'You feel it too, the hollow rage that fills you up but somehow leaves you empty.' In her eyes danced the flames and the flames showed her visions of the past, Harry could see them too. Cedric, Ron, Katie, Hermione and now Remus. 'So much death, so much rage… it never ends.'

"I understand, now." Tonks had said her first words since the assassination and they came out hoarse. Daphne, who had been standing in between Harry and Tonks, realised Tonks was addressing her and diverted her gaze to the grieving woman. She placed a trembling hand on her belly and whispered, "I know exactly what I'm capable of."

"Tonks…" Daphne's attempt to mask her pity went sorely wrong. True to fashion though, she knew what to say. "That means it was real."

Despite the occasion that made Harry feel slightly better as he considered the connotations. It brought him back to reality long enough to notice the stationary hand Tonks left on her stomach and to find it odd. "What is it, Tonks?"

Tonks shook her head and, miraculously, tears began to well up in her eyes as she revealed, "I'm pregnant. He wanted to make you the godfather and I know this is a bad time but—"

"I'd be honoured." Harry's heart ached for Tonks, and he offered her a supportive embrace. "I'll make sure this world is a better place for your child, Tonks, I promise."

As the funeral pyre's flames continued to burn, Sirius Black stepped forward to enact the final part of the ceremony. Wand in hand, Sirius levitated Remus' coffin and pushed it slowly off the pyre and towards the cliff's edge. The coffin, still engulfed in fire, continued its path outwards but also began a slow descent into the water.

Those closest to Remus stayed to watch him disappear into the sea, three stayed well beyond that point. But it was final, Remus Lupin was dead and the world was made lesser for it.

September 26th

9:43am

Black Chateau, Isle of Man

Daphne

In the dimly lit meeting hall, an emergency meeting unfolded, candles casting shadows on the faces of those who had convened. The air hummed with anticipation, uncertainty, and a shared experience of loss. Harry, standing at the forefront, shattered the stillness with a decision that resonated through the room.

"We're moving forward with the raid," Harry announced, a firmness in his voice that left little room for debate.

'What?' The muggle military compound, home to months worth of food, was back on the menu. 'Grief has overcome you,' as she looked at the sunken eyes of her comrades she realised, 'it's overcome all of us.'

"I'll handle the guards and cameras," Harry declared, the lethal undertone clearly communicated in his tone of voice. "Kingsley, Bill, you two are to cast as many wards as possible over the base. Hopefully with a blanket of magic covering the compound, they won't be able to use any communication devices to call for backup."

Worried looks exchanged among the gathered, whispers of concern shrouding the room like a fog. Just recently Harry was preaching moral high ground as a way to honour Hermione's sacrifice, but now, with Remus gone, it seemed his conscience couldn't afford another death due to inaction.

Harry, sensing the undercurrent of doubt, addressed the room with a stoic resolve. "Worry about your own jobs, not mine," he asserted, shutting down the murmurs with a gaze that offered no argument. "Daphne, Mad Eye, you'll insert here, inside a food truck." he said pointing to a back entrance towards the east side of the compound, "this will take you to their storehouse and armoury where you'll be stationed until we leave."

Daphne noticed a stark shift in Harry's demeanour. The warmth that had once been present seemed replaced by an icy resolve. 'How can I help you?' A worry creased her brow, but she held back, knowing that now wasn't the time to address the concerns that pricked at the edges of her mind.

"Once the cargo is out, no traces of magic can be left behind," he continued, his gaze piercing through the room. The unspoken fear of inciting a muggle versus wizard war hung heavy in the air, a spectre that none were willing to summon. "I will make sure our presence goes unnoticed, the rest of you are to transport as many goods as you can back to the chateau."

"How do you intend to keep the muggles in the dark?"

Harry gave Kingsley a dark look as though he was insulted by having to even hear the question. "I will handle it."

Moody growled quietly before speaking. "We're going to need more than that."

It was a mistake; a blind person could see Harry was one wrong word away from an outburst. "You all wanted this; I could see it in your eyes every meeting. You, Alistair, with your friendly updates, should be giddy with excitement." Harry's accusations were met with shameful averted gazes. "If we're doing this, it'll be my way, on my terms"

"We are." Daphne affirmed. She could see a flicker of gratitude in his eyes before they clouded with irritation.

"Any more questions?" Harry surveyed the group with an irate expression. When no one replied he nodded to himself and muttered, "good." His boots clacked heavily on the floorboards as he made his exit and the room fell into an uneasy silence.

"He's unbalanced," Mad Eye voiced.

"He's right to be mad," Daphne countered. 'It's what you say when they're not around that matters.' Daphne eyed the disgruntled, experienced fighters before her who likely hadn't been dressed down like that in decades. "You and I failed him, we didn't catch the traitors and people died. We all asked for this, we don't get to complain now that we've got it."

"He's going to kill those muggles." Bill didn't phrase it as a question and none dared to refute it for it was plain to see. "He's going to kill them and starve thousands more."

"Hermione and Remus are dead, so is everyone on this planet if we lose." Daphne could see the cogs turning in their minds at her reasoning and so she pushed further. "If we do this now, we can get back to fighting this war instead of surviving it."

"You may be right lass," Mad Eye remarked, his stump thumping on the ground as he stepped closer around the table. "But you need to talk to him, it's a thin line you two toe, don't let him trip and fall."

Daphne matched Mad Eye's serious stare with one of her own. 'We've come so far in two years, we've dealt with loss, death magic, ancient rituals and every dark creature known to man. We won't fail here.'

"I won't."

September 27th

4:58pm

Royal Air Force (RAF) Base: Cabyll, Isle of Man

Daphne

Under the darkness of a new moon, Harry and Daphne crouched on a hill, concealed within the protective embrace of the tree line, their eyes fixed on the muggle compound below. Harry had insisted on seeing the place himself before they began the difficult task of stealing from it.

'You were right to not underestimate them father,' Daphne mused as she eyed their target, 'these muggles are resourceful if anything.' She had heard her father talk about the great muggle flying machines that could hover in the air like a broom or rug. But to see it in action, circling the sky around the compound, it was quite the spectacle.

The compound revealed itself as a formidable fortress, surrounded by high concrete walls that stood as silent blockades against intrusion. A single front gate was the only way in besides air, a narrow passage through the imposing barrier. Atop the walls, large mounted machine guns loomed, ominous symbols of the military might that protected the precious cargo within.

Guarding the compound, soldiers patrolled the walls with unwavering vigilance. Every night, their silhouettes traced the perimeter, their eyes scanning the darkness for any signs of intrusion. Several sweeping spotlights were manned on watchtowers, casting an accusing glow across the clearing, and sought out potential saboteurs.

Beneath the walls of the fortress, a display of absolute desperation unfolded. A sea of ravenous civilians clustered at the gates, their gaunt faces pleading for mercy. Soldiers, armed and resolute, threatened to disperse the gathering with the deadly language of their guns.

In the midst of this covert observation, Daphne studied her partner. He was so still one could be forgiven in mistaking him for a statue

"Harry?" Harry turned to her with only an expectant look. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

He didn't sigh or run an anxious hand through his hair like he usually would when troubled. Instead he kept a straight face and answered simply. "It's what I've always wanted"

'He might as well be catatonic, with the lack of life behind those emerald eyes.'

"You were trying to honour your best friend's memory."

"And people starved for it." She had drawn out some life in him after all, even if it was self loathing. Harry's fist connected with the ground beneath him as he let some of his anguish out. "My hesitation led us down this path."

"Voldemort caused the famine," Daphne reasoned, enunciating the true perpetrators, "Diggle and Podmore killed Hermione and Remus."

"You don't understand what I'm saying," Harry sat down in the dirt and focused his full attention on Daphne. As if he was trying to convince her, Harry earnestly explained, "it doesn't matter whose fault any of it was, our people, the ones we presume to lead, are starving and dying."

Daphne stretched her arm out in the direction of the compound and raised her brow. "And the answer is to make them and their families starve?" If this was the only way to draw Harry back to the surface, playing devil's advocate, she'd do it all the livelong day. 'It seems that you're catching on though,' she thought as his own brow furrowed in confusion.

"I thought this is what you wanted?"

"Not wanted so much as what we needed." She knew they were in a rough patch, someone was going to come out on the bottom. Ultimately, if they lost, so do the muggles therefore logic dictates this attack. "But are you going to be able to live with spitting on the graves of Hermione and Remus?"

Harry scoffed, stood up and countered with a steely resolve. "They were good people, the best" he asserted, his gaze fixed on the compound below. "However, there isn't room for virtue when our enemies afford us none."

The words stumped her, she was close to bringing him back but she'd pushed too far.

"FRACKKKK"

Turning to deafening sound from the compound, Daphne watched the civilians disperse rapidly under the threat of machine gun fire. 'Firing upon their own people why would they– no,' Daphne looked closer at the fleeing men and women and found no blood or bodies, 'a warning.'

"Good."

Daphne turned back to Harry to see the faintest satisfactory smile on his lips. "No one will question the hungry populace taking up arms against the people with all the food."

'Unoriginal, but it worked once, why not twice?'

Daphne watched as the civilian mob retreated westward, towards a town that laid less than a kilometre away. The helicopter followed them with a spotlight, circling three times before losing the civilians in the tree line. Once the helicopter had landed, the air became still, not a sound stood out besides ambient natural noises.

Harry's monotone voice cut through the quietude. "I'm going to take their food, feed our people, and then I'm going to kill Voldemort for all the pain he's caused." His eyes turned downward to the wand in his hand. "And all the pain I will cause in the name of victory."