Magic? || Years 5-7

Dumbledore's Dead: Year 6

It felt like hours later when Harry joined them in the hospital wing, pale-faced and shaking with scrapes on his cheeks and Ginny at his side. Hermione stood at once, hugging him tight with tears in her eyes. She and Luna hadn't been hurt, too far out from the battle for any duels to take place. Neville was lying in a bed by the door, fast asleep as he recovered from his concussion. Everyone else was gathered around Bill's bedside, watching as Madam Pomfrey dabbed at his wounds with green ointment.

Lupin stood, eyes worried and anxious as he said, "Are you all right, Harry?"

"I'm fine. . ." Harry said, mindlessly scrubbing at the dried blood under his chin. "How's Bill?"

Amisty sniffed, guilt eating away at her stomach. She was under strict orders to stay away from Healing magic, no matter how helpful it would have been in the current circumstances. She was shaking too much to be any real help.

"Can't you fix them with a charm or something?" Harry asked, pressing his lips together as he looked over Hermione's shoulder.

"No charm will work on these," Madam Pomfrey said, switching to a fresh cotton ball as she worked down Bill's neck. "I've tried everything I know, but there is no cure for werewolf bites."

"But he wasn't bitten at the full moon," Ron said, staring very intently at Bill's face like that'd be enough to Heal his wounds. "Greyback hadn't transformed, so surely Bill won't be a—a real—?"

He looked up at Lupin, uncertainty heavy on his face.

"No, I don't think that Bill will be a true werewolf," Lupin said quietly, drifting back toward his chair, "but that does not mean that there won't be some contamination. Those are cursed wounds. They are unlikely ever to heal fully and—and Bill might have some wolfish characteristics from now on."

Amisty's fingers brushed her neck, skittering around claw marks that were certain to scar, then dug her palms into her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said again.

"It wasn't your fault, Amisty," Tonks said with the same patience she'd had every other time Amisty apologized.

"Dumbledore might know something that'd work, though," Ron said. "Where is he? Bill fought those maniacs on Dumbledore's orders, Dumbledore owes him, he can't leave him in this state—"

"Ron—Dumbledore's dead," Ginny said.

An ice cube settled in Amisty's stomach, steadily growing until she felt her entire body turn numb. Dumbledore. . . dead.

"No!" Lupin exclaimed, looking wildly between Ginny and Harry as if Harry would say she was wrong. When Harry just nodded, in a quick, solemn jerk of his chin, Lupin collapsed. He fell into his chair with a shudder, burying his head in his hands.

Horrified, Tonks whispered, "How did he die? How did it happen?"

"Snape killed him," Harry said. "I was there, I saw it. We arrived back on the Astronomy Tower because that's where the Mark was. . . Dumbledore was ill, he was weak, but I think he realized it was a trap when we heard footsteps running up the stairs. He immobilized me, I couldn't do anything, I was under the Invisibility Cloak—and then Malfoy came through the door and disarmed him—"

Hermione's hands clamped over her mouth. Ron groaned. Luna's lower lip trembled.

Amisty stared at her hands, ice-cold dread flowing through her veins and freezing her blood.

"—more Death Eaters arrived—and then Snape—and Snape did it. The Avada Kedavra."

Harry's voice wilted and he blinked up at the ceiling, his fingers clenching and unclenching at his side.