—— ϟ ——
Harry flew across the entrance hall and out into the dark grounds: He could just make out three figures racing across the lawn, heading for the gates beyond which they could Disapparate — by the looks of them, the huge blond Death Eater and, some way ahead of him, Snape and Malfoy...
Harry tore past Hagrid and his opponent, took aim at Snape's back, and yelled, "Stupefy!"
He missed; the jet of red light soared past Snape's head; Snape shouted, "Run, Draco!" and turned. Twenty yards apart, he and Harry looked at each other before raising their wands simultaneously.
But Snape parried the curse, knocking Harry backward off his feet before he could complete it; Harry rolled over and scrambled back up again.
"Fight back!" Harry screamed at him. "Fight back, you cowardly —"
"Coward, did you call me, Potter?" shouted Snape. "Your father would never attack me unless it was four on one, what would you call him, I wonder?"
"Stupe —"
"Blocked again and again and again until you learn to keep your mouth shut and your mind closed, Potter!" sneered Snape, deflecting the curse once more. "Now come!" he shouted at the huge Death Eater behind Harry. "It is time to be gone, before the Ministry turns up —"
"Impedi —"
But before he could finish this jinx, excruciating pain hit Harry; he keeled over in the grass. Someone was screaming, he would surely die of this agony, Snape was going to torture him to death or madness —
"No!" roared Snape's voice and the pain stopped as suddenly as it had started; Harry lay curled on the dark grass, clutching his wand and panting; somewhere overhead Snape was shouting, "Have you forgotten our orders? Potter belongs to the Dark Lord — we are to leave him! Go! Go!"
"Sectum — !"
Snape flicked his wand and the curse was repelled yet again; but Harry was mere feet away now and he could see Snape's face clearly at last: He was no longer sneering or jeering; the blazing flames showed a face full of rage. Mustering all his powers of concentration, Harry thought, Levi —
"No, Potter!" screamed Snape. There was a loud BANG and Harry was soaring backward, hitting the ground hard again, and this time his wand flew out of his hand.
"You dare use my own spells against me, Potter? It was I who invented them — I, the Half-Blood Prince! And you'd turn my inventions on me, like your filthy father, would you? I don't think so . . . no!"
Harry had dived for his wand; Snape shot a hex at it and it flew feet away into the darkness and out of sight.
"Kill me then," panted Harry, who felt no fear at all, but only rage and contempt. "Kill me like you killed him, you coward —"
"DON'T—" screamed Snape, and his face was suddenly demented, inhuman, as though he was in as much pain as the yelping, howling dog stuck in the burning house behind them — "CALL ME COWARD!"
And he slashed at the air: Harry felt a white-hot, whiplike something hit him across the face and was slammed backward into the ground. Spots of light burst in front of his eyes and for a moment all the breath seemed to have gone from his body.
As Harry raised himself into a sitting position, his head still swimming from its last contact with the ground, he saw Snape running as hard as he could, the enormous beast flapping behind him and screeching as Harry had never heard him screech —
"Hagrid," muttered Harry, still dazed, looking around. "HAGRID?"
He stumbled toward the burning house as an enormous figure emerged from out of the flames carrying Fang on his back. With a cry of thankfulness, Harry sank to his knees; he was shaking in every limb, his body ached all over, and his breath came in painful stabs.
"Yeh all righ', Harry? Yeh all righ'? Speak ter me, Harry..."
Hagrid's huge, hairy face was swimming above Harry, blocking out the stars. Harry could smell burnt wood and dog hair; he put out a hand and felt Fang's reassuringly warm and alive body quivering beside him.
"I'm all right," panted Harry. "Are you?"
" 'Course I am . . . take more'n that ter finish me." Hagrid put his hands under Harry's arms and raised him up
with such force that Harry's feet momentarily left the ground before Hagrid set him upright again. He could see blood trickling down Hagrid's cheek from a deep cut under one eye, which was swelling rapidly.
"Hagrid..."
"But what happened, Harry? I jus' saw them Death Eaters runnin' down from the castle, but what the ruddy hell was Snape doin' with 'em? Where's he gone — was he chasin' them?"
"He..." Harry cleared his throat; it was dry from panic and the smoke. "Hagrid, he killed..."
"Killed?" said Hagrid loudly, staring down at Harry. "Snape killed? What're yeh on abou', Harry?"
"Dumbledore," said Harry. "Snape killed...Dumbledore."
Hagrid simply looked at him, the little of his face that could be seen completely blank, uncomprehending.
"Dumbledore wha', Harry?"
"He's dead. Snape killed him. . . ."
"Don' say that," said Hagrid roughly. "Snape kill Dumbledore — don' be stupid, Harry. Wha's made yeh say tha'?"
"I saw it happen."
"Yeh couldn' have."
"I saw it, Hagrid."
The oak front doors stood open ahead of them, light flooding out onto the drive and the lawn. Slowly, uncertainly, dressing-gowned people were creeping down the steps, looking around nervously for some sign of the Death Eaters who had fled into the night. Harry's eyes, however, were fixed upon the ground at the foot of the tallest tower. He imagined that he could see a black, huddled mass lying in the grass there, though he was really too far away to see anything of the sort. Even as he stared wordlessly at the place where he thought Dumbledore's body must lie, however, he saw people beginning to move toward it.
"What're they all lookin' at?" said Hagrid, as he and Harry approached the castle front, Fang keeping as close as he could to their ankles. "Wha's tha', lyin' on the grass?"
Hagrid added sharply, heading now toward the foot of the Astronomy Tower, where a small crowd was congregating.
"See it, Harry? Righ' at the foot o' the tower? Under where the Mark....Blimey... yeh don' think someone got thrown — ?"
Harry walked slowly forward until he reached the place where Dumbledore lay and crouched down beside him.
Dumbledore's eyes were closed; but for the strange angle of his arms and legs, he might have been sleeping. Harry reached out, straightened the half-moon spectacles upon the crooked nose, and wiped a trickle of blood from the mouth with his own sleeve.
Then he gazed down at the wise old face and tried to absorb the enormous and incomprehensible truth: that never again would Dumbledore speak to him, never again could he help...The crowd murmured behind Harry.
After what seemed like a long time, he became aware that he was kneeling upon something hard and looked down. The locket they had managed to steal so many hours before had fallen out of Dumbledore's pocket. It had opened, perhaps due to the force with which it hit the ground. And although he could not feel more shock or horror or sadness than he felt already, Harry knew, as he picked it up, that there was something wrong. . . .
Automatically, without really thinking about what he was doing, Harry pulled out the fragment of parchment, opened it, and read by the light of the many wands that had now been lit behind him:
To the Dark Lord I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more.
R.A.B.
Harry neither knew nor cared what the message meant. Only one thing mattered: This was not a Horcrux. Dumbledore had weakened himself by drinking that terrible potion for nothing. Harry crumpled the parchment in his hand, and his eyes burned with tears as behind him Fang began to howl.
"Harry, come on." A much smaller and warmer hand had enclosed his and was pulling him upward.
He obeyed its pressure without really thinking about it. Only as he walked blindly back through the crowd did he realize, from a trace of flowery scent on the air, that it was Noel who was leading him back into the castle. Incomprehensible voices battered him, sobs and shouts and wails stabbed the night, but Harry and Noel walked on, back up the steps into the entrance hall.
"We're going to the hospital wing," Noel told him gently.
"I'm not hurt," said Harry.
"It's McGonagall's orders. Everyone's up there, Ron and Hermione and my dad and everyone —"
Fear stirred in Harry's chest again: He had forgotten the inert figures he had left behind. "Noel, who else is dead?"
"Don't worry, none of us."
"But the Dark Mark — Malfoy said he stepped over a body —"
"He stepped over Bill, but it's all right, he's alive." There was something in her voice, however, that Harry knew boded ill. "I– healed him, as much as I could."
"Greyback– he said he hurt you. Are you hurt?"
Noel said nothing but continued to guide him.
"There were other bodies on the ground..."
"Neville and Professor Flitwick are both hurt, but Madam Pomfrey says they'll be all right. And a Death Eater's dead, he got hit by a Killing Curse that huge blond one was firing off everywhere — Harry, if they hadn't had your Felix potion, I think they would've all have been killed, but everything seemed to just miss them —"
Harry shook his head, "what do you mean they? Did Hermione not give you any?"
Noel turned to face him, "I gave it to everyone else. They needed it more than I did. I'm fine."
They had reached the hospital wing. Pushing open the doors, Harry saw Neville lying, apparently asleep, in a bed near the door. Ron, Hermione, Luna, Ginny, Theo, Lucy, Tonks, and Remus were gathered around another bed near the far end of the ward. At the sound of the doors opening, they all looked up. Hermione ran to Harry and hugged him; Remus moved forward too, looking anxious.
He gathered Noel and held her tightly. "Oh, Jellybean. You're okay..." he murmured. "Are you alright Harry?"
"I'm fine...How's Bill?" Nobody answered. Harry looked over Hermione's shoulder and saw an unrecognizable face lying on Bill's pillow, so badly slashed and ripped that he looked grotesque.
Madam Pomfrey was dabbing at his wounds with some harsh-smelling green ointment. Harry remembered how Snape had mended Malfoy's Sectumsempra wounds so easily with his wand. "Can't you fix them with a charm or something?" He asked the matron.
"No charm will work on these," said Madam Pomfrey. "I've tried everything I know, but there is no cure for werewolf bites."
"But he wasn't bitten at the full moon," said Ron, who was gazing down into his brother's face as though he could somehow force him to mend just by staring. "Greyback hadn't transformed, so surely Bill won't be a — a real — ?"
He looked uncertainly at Remus.
"No, I don't think that Bill will be a true werewolf," Remus said, "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."
Noel stepped forward and took in a calming breath. "Excuse Madam Pomfrey." She said quietly. Only three people in the room knew what Noel was about to try. "I healed half of his wounds when I saw him, maybe I can heal the rest. I don't know about his scars though." She said, almost talking to herself. She once again placed a hand over Bill and slowly but surely gold bands emitted from her hands, the gold magic wrapped itself around Billy and his injuries.
The residents of the Hospital wing watched transfixed as his wounds started to disappear. Noel felt a searing pain in her abdomen. She had completely forgotten about her own injury and it seemed like the force of her powers was making it bleed heavily. She didn't let the others see that she too was in pain. When her knees almost gave out was when she finished. She placed her hands on the bed and took some deep breaths.
"I'm sorry, that's the most I could do for now." She said apologetically. Ginny hugged her tightly, "please don't ever apologize. You saved his life." Ginny said her voice a mixture of gratitude and sadness.
Noel took a deep breath and hugged her back. "I– I'm bleeding," Noel said very faintly. Ginny held her at arm's length and stared down at her side where her clothes had completely soaked. Crimson blood was dripping onto the floor. Noel looked down at it and hissed, holding onto Ginny to keep herself steady.
"Sit down!" Ginny said urgently. Noel sat down heavily and lifted her shirt to see the damage. "Oh, fucking hell." She whispered.
Madam Pomfrey in an instant started to help her clean the wound and gave her a potion for the pain. The group watched anxiously and talked amongst themselves to keep each other afloat. Once Noel was all bandaged up and clean, Harry sat down next to her. The two were completely exhausted.
"Harry... where's Dumbledore?" Someone asked quietly.
"Dumbledore's dead," Harry said bluntly.
"No!" Remus looked wildly from Noel to Harry, as though hoping the latter might contradict him, but when Noel did not, Remus collapsed into a chair beside Bill's bed, his hands over his face. Harry had never seen Remus lose control before; he felt as though he was intruding upon something private, indecent.
"How did he die?" whispered Tonks. "How did it happen?"
"Snape killed him," said Harry. "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 clapped her hands to her mouth and Ron groaned. Luna's mouth trembled. "— more Death Eaters arrived — and then Snape — and Snape did it. The Avada Kedavra." Harry couldn't go on.
Somewhere out in the darkness, a phoenix was singing in a way Harry had never heard before: a stricken lament of terrible beauty. And Harry felt, as he had felt about phoenix song before, that the music was inside him, not without: It was his own grief turned magically to song that echoed across the grounds and through the castle windows.
How long they all stood there, listening, he did not know, nor why it seemed to ease their pain a little to listen to the sound of their mourning, but it felt like a long time later that the hospital door opened again and Professor McGonagall entered the ward. Like all the rest, she bore marks of the recent battle: There were grazes on her face and her robes were ripped.
"Molly and Arthur are on their way," she said, and the spell of the music was broken: Everyone roused themselves as though coming out of trances, turning again to look at Bill, or else to rub their own eyes, shake their heads. "Harry, what happened? According to Hagrid you were with Professor Dumbledore when he — when it happened. He says Professor Snape was involved in some —"
"Snape killed Dumbledore," said Harry.
"Snape," repeated McGonagall faintly, falling into the chair. "We all wondered...but he trusted...always...Snape...I can't believe it..."
"Snape was a highly accomplished Occlumens," Remus said, his voice uncharacteristically harsh. "We always knew that."
"But Dumbledore swore he was on our side!" whispered Tonks. "I always thought Dumbledore must know something about Snape that we didn't...I'd love to know what Snape told him to convince him," said Tonks.
"I know," said Harry, and they all turned to look at him. "Snape passed Voldemort the information that made Voldemort hunt down my mum and dad. Then Snape told Dumbledore he hadn't realized what he was doing, he was really sorry he'd done it, sorry that they were dead."
They all stared at him.
"And Dumbledore believed that?" said Remus incredulously. "Dumbledore believed Snape was sorry James was dead? Snape hated James..."
"And he didn't think my mother was worth a damn either," said Harry, "because she was Muggle-born...
'Mudblood,' he called her..." Nobody asked how Harry knew this. All of them seemed to be lost in horrified shock, trying to digest the monstrous truth of what had happened.
They all sat in silence for a while. Noel conjured up a bowl of water and a rag. She didn't think Harry had even noticed that his face was bloody and full of gashes. She turned to him, and he looked at her and did the same when Noel told him to turn. She gently grabbed his chin and wiped the blood carefully. Whispering sorry's every time he hissed and moved away. She placed a warm hand on his cheek and he closed his eyes letting her heal his minor cuts.
The doors of the hospital wing burst open, making them all jump: Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were striding up the ward, Fleur just behind them, her beautiful face terrified.
"Molly — Arthur —" said Professor McGonagall, jumping up and hurrying to greet them. "I am so sorry —"
"Bill," whispered Mrs. Weasley, darting past Professor McGonagall as she caught sight of Bill's mangled face. "Oh, Bill !"
Remus and Tonks had got up hastily and retreated so that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley could get nearer to the bed. Mrs. Weasley bent over her son and pressed her lips to his bloody forehead. Remus stood near Noel and Harry who had been accompanied by Lucy and Theo who was holding the little girl as she had been falling asleep all night be refused to leave Noel's side.
"You said Greyback attacked him?" Mr. Weasley asked Professor McGonagall distractedly. "But he hadn't transformed? So what does that mean? What will happen to Bill?"
"We don't yet know," said Professor McGonagall, looking helplessly at Remus. "There will probably be some contamination, Arthur," Remus said. "It is an odd case, possibly unique...We don't know what his behavior might be like when he awakens..."
Mrs. Weasley took the nasty-smelling ointment from Madam Pomfrey and began dabbing at Bill's wounds.
"And Dumbledore . . ." said Mr. Weasley. "Minerva, is it true...Is he really...?" As Professor McGonagall nodded, Harry felt Noel move beside him and looked at her. She was watching Fleur nervously who was staring at Bill frozen in her spot. "I tried to heal him as much as I could Mrs. Weasley like I had Mr. Weasley with the snake venom but I got hurt I couldn't heal his face entirely."
"Of course, it doesn't matter how he looks...It's not r-really important....but he was a very handsome little b-boy...always very handsome... and he was g-going to be married!"
"And what do you mean by zat?" said Fleur suddenly and loudly. "What do you mean, ' 'e was going to be married?' "
Mrs. Weasley raised her tear-stained face, looking startled. "Well — only that —"
"You theenk Bill will not wish to marry me anymore?" demanded Fleur. "You theenk, because of these bites, he will not love me?"
"No, that's not what I —"
"Because 'e will!" said Fleur, drawing herself up to her full height and throwing back her long mane of silver hair. "It would take more zan a werewolf to stop Bill loving me!"
"Well, yes, I'm sure," said Mrs. Weasley, "but I thought perhaps — given how — how he —"
"You thought I would not weesh to marry him? Or per'aps, you hoped?" said Fleur, her nostrils flaring. "What do I care how he looks? I am good-looking enough for both of us, I theenk! All these scars show is zat my husband is brave! And I shall do zat!" she added fiercely, pushing Mrs. Weasley aside and snatching the ointment from her.
Mrs. Weasley fell back against her husband and watched Fleur mopping up Bill's wounds with a most curious expression upon her face. Nobody said anything; Harry did not dare move. Like everybody else, he was waiting for the explosion.
"Our Great-Auntie Muriel," said Mrs. Weasley after a long pause, "has a very beautiful tiara — goblin-made — which I am sure I could persuade her to lend you for the wedding. She is very fond of Bill, you know, and it would look lovely with your hair."
"Thank you," said Fleur stiffly. "I am sure zat will be lovely."
And then, Harry did not quite see how it happened, both women were crying and hugging each other. Completely bewildered, wondering whether the world had gone mad, he turned around: Ron looked as stunned as he felt and Ginny and Hermione were exchanging startled looks.
Noel grinned and laid her head on his shoulder.
"You see!" said a strained voice. Tonks was glaring at Remus. "She still wants to marry him, even though he's been bitten! She doesn't care!"
"It's different," said Lupin, barely moving his lips and looking suddenly tense. "Bill will not be a full werewolf. The cases are completely —"
"But I don't care either, I don't care!" said Tonks, seizing the front of Remus's robes and shaking them. "I've told you a million times..."
Noel looked completely bewildered. She and Theo shared looks of slight discomfort. "And I've told you a million times," said Lupin, refusing to meet her eyes, staring at the floor, "that I am too old for you, too poor...too dangerous...I have two kids who need me! I'm at a place in my life where I am content with where I'm at. I don't need any more romance, I'm sorry Nymphadora but I've had my tragic love story I don't want another one."
Harry, lying back on his bed fully clothed and staring blankly upwards. He felt no curiosity at all about R.A.B.: He doubted that he would ever feel curious again. As he lay there, he became aware suddenly that the grounds were silent. Fawkes had stopped singing. And he knew, without knowing how he knew it, that the phoenix had gone, had left Hogwarts for good, just as Dumbledore had left the school, had left the world...had left Harry.
He turned his head to look over at Noel who was sleeping beside him, watching her, he remembered the conversation that they had a few weeks ago, but it seemed like there was no use in slowing down now. Not when it was all up to him. As he moved closer to her, she instinctively wrapped her arms around him, her head burying into his chest.
It all felt so selfish and cruel, to have her here, peaceful and safe when he knew what was to come. That he would have to leave her and what they had.
"Noel," he whispered, not know if he wanted to wake her or talk to her sleeping self.
"Mm?"
"You're very beautiful, El."
She hummed again, not fully awake but leaned up to kiss the underside of his jaw nonetheless. "Sleep." She said simply, and so he did.