The Unknown of the Order (Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery

Mourning Comes

Diego let out a long breath. "I guess our paths just...diverged. Barnaby had something he had to do, we have something we have to do. It's like he said, he's not really involved with the Order."

No, he wasn't. Sarah recalled last year, when Dumbledore had told her Barnaby was too vulnerable to be included in the Order's plans, so she'd tossed him aside for the greater good. She supposed it shouldn't be surprising that he'd find his own way without her, but a childish part of her had always hoped that after it was all over, they'd go back to the way things had been before.

She felt a tear sliding down her cheek, hot as the fire whiskey. She felt stupid; more people were being murdered everyday, and she was crying because she was lonely. She wiped the tear angrily and took another drink from her mug.

Diego topped it off, then scooted close and put his arm around her. She let herself lean into him. It lifted her burden even just to not support her own head. She let him rub his hand on her arm and kiss the top of her head. Each place he touched her tingled, reminding her that she was still alive.

Once they received word from Dumbledore, she'd have to pick herself up, find strength somewhere within herself, and get back to work. But for now, she supposed it was okay to fall apart a little.

*******************

Barnaby and Elena appeared in a small cluster of trees in a tiny park in London. It was the same park he'd played in with a muggle boy once, the place where his magic had first made its presence known within him.

He'd realized that he didn't have any form of plan as he'd stormed out of the cottage, but he had to go somewhere, and his Uncle Cecil's had been the first place to pop in his head. Cecil was the only member of Barnaby's family that liked him. The few weeks Barnaby had stayed with Cecil, back when his parents had sent him away worried he'd turned out to be a squib, had been some of the happiest of his childhood.

It was dark, so they had little trouble not being seen as Barnaby made the way to his Uncle's apartment building. There was no answer when Barnaby knocked on the door, but he found it unlocked when he turned the handle.

"Uncle?" Barnaby called as he stepped inside. There was no sound or light inside the apartment. "He must not be home. I suppose we'll just wait for him here."

Elena stepped forward to investigate the tiny kitchen. She peered into his cupboards and his icebox.

"I think something's wrong," Elena whispered, returning to stand close to him and taking out her wand. "All of his food has gone bad. There are dishes piled in the sink."

"Well, maybe he forgot to do his chores. And to eat. Cecil can be forgetful sometimes..." said Barnaby.

With his wand tip lit, he lead the way through the untouched living room to check the bedrooms. The first was the room Barnaby had stayed in when he had visited. It still contained the twin bed he used to sleep in. The first toys he could remember owning were still strewn about the floor, as if he'd just put them down because he'd been called into dinner. But, the layers of dust told Barnaby the room hadn't been touched for a long time.

Down the hall, he opened the door to his Uncle's room. This was the only room that looked as if it had been used in weeks. Elena gasped. Barnaby felt his eyes burning.

Cecil's bed had been torn to shreds. Feathers and bits of pillow and blanket littered the floor. Large, dark stains were everywhere--the bed, the floor, the walls.

Barnaby closed his eyes, willing himself to remain upright. His body felt like a reed at the mercy of the wind. He felt Elena slip past him. He opened his eyes to watch her stepping carefully around the room, trying to avoid the bloodstains. Her fingers felt along the walls. There were huge claw marks lining them, as well as on the bed and the door.