Chapter 22: The Dawn
“Come on, Emma. It isn’t safe here,” Draco said.
He looked at Harry, who he seemed to expect would kill them any moment. Harry stared down at Snape, the goblet full of memories in his hand. Emma shook her head and looked up at Draco through her tears.
“I can't… my dad… dead…”
“Emma, we have to go.”
“I can't leave him,” she sobbed. “I can't.”
Draco was about to kneel down next to Emma when he and Harry both jumped and tensed up; a high, cold voice spoke so close that it were as if Voldemort had reentered the room. He hadn’t, however; they realized he was speaking to Hogwarts and the surrounding areas, and everyone still fighting and those in Hogsmeade would hear him as if he were standing right next to them.
“You have fought valiantly,” said Voldemort. “Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery. Yet,” continued the voice, “you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste.
“Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat immediately. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured. You have one hour.”
“Emma, come on,” Draco said.
Voldemort continued speaking, but no longer to the inhabitants of the castle and Hogsmeade; he now spoke solely to Harry. Draco turned his complete attention to Emma.
“Come on, Emma,” he said, dragging her off of her father and to her feet.
“Let me die,” she begged. “Please, just let me die.”
“Emma, look at me!” Draco said, his voice suddenly commanding.
Emma shook her head and looked down, but he put his hand under her chin and tilted her face up.
“Look at me,” he said again, more softly this time. He held her face between his hands. “I need you to listen, just for a few seconds. I can't leave you here. I can't just walk away and let you die here with him. I promised him that I would take care of you. Come with me. We will hide your father’s body and go back to the castle.”
Emma blinked a few times to get rid of the tears, and took several deep breaths before speaking.
“Draco, we can't go back.”
“Why not?”
“Draco, listen carefully to what I have to say,” she whispered, pulling Draco further away from Harry, Ron, and Hermione. “The reason Voldemort killed my father—” her voice broke, “is because he believed my father had control of the Elder Wand.”
“Well did he?”
“No. He killed Dumbledore, but he didn’t have control of the wand. Control of that wand was taken over by someone before that. Someone who disarmed Dumbledore that night on the tower.”
Emma brought clothing to Draco in the Hospital wing. He had been recovering from his wounds caused by Harry’s curse still. Emma hurried upstairs, as the hour was getting late and they had an obligation to take care of.
Emma found Draco awake, staring at the ceiling. She sat down on the edge of his bed and handed him the clothes. He swung his legs around the side of the bed and looked at Emma.
“Do you remember the plan?” he asked.
“Yes,” said Emma. “You and I will go upstairs to the tower, where Dumbledore will Apparate to with Harry shortly.”
“We will ambush him when he does.”
Emma’s hear was racing. She was really talking about killing the school’s headmaster, a man who had never shown her anything but kindness. Now she was helping plot murder him. Of course, she wouldn’t really go through with it.
“Dumbledore will die tonight,” Draco said.
“Yes,” Emma lied. “Tonight, we will be victorious.”
She knew the plan. She and her father had gone over it a hundred times already. Draco would not be able to go through with it, that much she knew herself. He didn’t have it in his heart to murder someone. Snape would be the one to kill Dumbledore, but it was alright; Dumbledore was already dying. Snape would simply be doing him a favor.
Draco changed into his clothes and he and Emma began their way upstairs to the tower. In the corridor of the seventh floor hallway, the Death Eaters had already entered the school. Bellatrix, Greyback, and several others would be joining them shortly.
Emma and Draco hurried up the spiraling staircase to the top of the Astronomy tower. Near the top, they heard the sound of someone Apparating.
“They’re back, said Emma.
They snuck up the last few stairs before walking out into view.
“Expelliarmus!” Exclaimed Draco.
Dumbledore’s wand flew out of his hand…
“Draco, it’s you,” Emma said quietly. “You control the Elder wand.”
“What?”
“You disarmed Dumbledore on the tower that night. You took his wand. If Voldemort figures that out, he’s going to kill you.”
Emma and Draco stood staring at each other for a long time. As Harry, Ron and Hermione were leaving, Emma and Harry’s eyes connected for just a moment. In that moment, they communicated more than they ever could have with words. Harry turned and walked away, and Emma knew that was the last time she would see him.
Emma used her wand to lift her father’s body. She placed him in an empty boat, and arranged him to look as though he were sleeping. Then she threw his cloak over him to hide him. She leaned down and kissed him on the forehead before picking his wand up and tucking it into her robes.
“We have to go back up the stairs,” Emma said.
They joined hands and walked outside. All sense of urgency was gone. There was nothing left to rush for. Once outside, they Apparated back to the top of the stairs.
“Listen,” Emma said, “be careful. Don’t say anything stupid when we go inside. There are going to be a lot of upset people. The two of us aren’t exactly the first ones anyone wants to see. And, besides that, when the fighting starts again, be careful. Don’t get yourself killed. The last thing I need is to lose you, too.”
Draco suddenly hugged Emma tightly and kissed her.
“I promise I’ll be careful,” he said quietly. Then he added, “Emma, if I do die, just remember, even if you forget everything else I’ve ever told you, that I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Emma said.
She kissed him again and held him tight, wishing they could stay like that forever and that the battle would never resume. She wanted everything to be over, and for her and Draco to be together for eternity, with no war and no death, no risk of being killed. She wanted to live at Malfoy Manor, to be happily married, and to have children. She wanted a happy life.
But the sad truth was that there was a war literally going on around them. They had to finish what had been started years before, by their parents, and their parent’s parents. With a sigh, Emma took Draco by the hand and led him up the last steps. There was blood on the stairs, and she turned back for a moment to see bodies strewn across the courtyard, people going around and picking them up on stretchers.
“I wonder how many people have died.”
She stepped into the front hall, immediately moving so that Draco was behind her.She saw many sets of eyes come to rest on them, but she walked across the room humbly and ignored the stares. She looked around at everyone, catching a few familiar people’s eyes, some angry glares, and a few people gripped their wands as she and Draco passed by. She didn’t move to grab her wand. She didn’t make any defensive movements at all. She held Draco’s hand with one hand and kept her other hand at her side.
Finally, in the middle of the room were the bodies, lying under the starry ceiling, looking as though they were asleep. Emma closed her eyes against the sight of the entire Weasley family mourning around one of their own; Fred Weasley was dead.
Emma walked towards them silently. George turned around as she approached and she could see the utter sadness and hopelessness in his eyes.
“George,” she said, putting her hand on his shoulder.
Mr. Weasley immediately jumped up from where he had been kneeling, stroking his wife’s hair, his face contorting as he pointed his wand at Emma. Emma recoiled, standing with her hands at her sides, neither defensive or threateningly.
“Go back to your Death Eater friends!” he commanded. Everyone in the room fell silent and turned to them. “Shouldn’t you have retreated, with your father, his master, and all your friends?”
“My father is dead,” Emma said, her voice carrying to all those in the silent room, “killed by his master. And I have no friends on their side. All my friends are here.”
“Emma is on our side,” Neville reassured everyone. “She has been helping us. McGonagall knows.”
Professor McGonagall nodded. “She is on our side.”
“Emma saved my life,” Luna added.
Mr. Weasley lowered his wand. Emma slowly put her hands back on George’s shoulders and comforted him.
“I’m so sorry, George,” she said quietly. “So, so sorry. I know how it feels to lose someone who loves you so much.”
After a time, Emma turned to leave. She put her hand on George’s face and looked into his eyes before walking away.
“Good luck, George,” she said.
She patted Mr. Weasley on the shoulder as well before turning back to Draco.
“Come on,” she said to him.
“Emma,” Draco said. She could see something in his eyes; something deeply troubled.
“Yes?”
“Do you think my parents are still alive?”
“I don’t know,” Emma said quietly. “I hope they are.”
“Where are we going?” he asked.
Emma walked from the hall, following Neville outside.
“Neville,” she said, walking up behind him.
He turned around and looked at her before navigating a path down the broken stairs.
“Can I help you with anything, Emma?” he asked.
He walked around on the rubble and picked up a tattered old hat.
“Is that the Sorting Hat?” she asked.
“Yeah, its…” he began, but broke off. He seemed to be staring at something within the hat.
“What is it?” asked Emma, approaching him.
Neville reached into the hat and pulled out a silver-hilted sword.
“That’s the Sword of—”
“Shhh!” Emma hissed. Her mind was racing now. That was just what they needed! Now they had a way to get rid of the last Horcrux. “Neville, that sword is extremely important. Harry told you to kill the snake, right? I heard you telling Luna in the hall. Use that sword to kill the snake.”
“Okay,” Neville said, nodding. “I will kill it. I will do it!”
“Good,” Emma said, navigating down the destroyed front staircase.
“What are you and Draco going to do?” he asked.
Emma sighed.
“We have to keep pretending our allegiance to Voldemort. We have to wait it out until he returns to the school.”
“Do you think we can do it?” asked Neville. “Do you think we can really stop this? Do you think we can win the war?”
“I have faith,” Emma said with a faint smile. “I think Harry will do it. I think we can.”
Emma took a deep breath and felt a strange feeling of emptiness in her chest. She had forgotten that her father was dead. She sighed.
“Not all of us are going to survive though.”
“Is your father really dead?” asked Neville.
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry, Emma. I know you loved him.”
Emma smiled sadly, tears falling down her face again. She sat down on the rubble with Neville. Draco sat down next to her and took her hand.
“What do we do now?” asked Draco.
Emma was about to respond when Harry suddenly walked past them.
“Where are you going?” asked Neville.
Harry glanced suspiciously at Draco.
“I have something left to do,” he said. Then he paused and looked at Emma.
“There is something in the Pensieve in your father’s office that you might like to see.”
“What is it?” she asked.
“Just… go see it for yourself.”
Emma knew where Harry was going. He was going to die.
“Harry,” she said, standing up. She ran to him and threw her arms around him. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Emma,” he said.
“I've been so afraid you forgot all those good times we had as children,” she whispered.
“Emma, I could never forget. I grew up believing you were my sister. I will always love you. Never forget that.”
Emma held him for a few more moments before releasing him.
“Goodbye, Harry,” she whispered.
“Goodbye, Emma.”
Emma turned back to Draco and Neville.
“Neville, remember what I told you to do.”
He nodded quickly and held up the hat.
“Draco, come with me. We have to go to my father’s office.”
“Why?”
“I have to see the memories he left Harry.”
Draco obediently followed Emma back to the office. The two of them had to navigate endless rubble and debris in order to get through the corridors. It seemed the whole school had been reduced to a pile of stones.
Emma walked into the office and found the Pensieve still on the desk.
“Emma? Is that you?”
Emma turned to see the portrait of her mother. Holly was wide-eyed and panicked.
“Yes, mother?”
“Where is your father? I can't hear anything from my picture in his locket.”
Emma took a moment to compose herself before speaking.
“Snape is dead.”
Holly threw her hands over her mouth.
“No!”
“I’m sorry.”
“Oh, Emma,” she said, tears falling down her face. “I am so, so sorry.”
Emma turned away and went back to the Pensieve. She looked at Draco, who was still standing near the door.
“Wait there,” she said. “I will be back in a moment.”
Emma put her face into the silvery surface and felt herself falling, falling, falling.
She landed feet first in a familiar little field near Privet Drive. In the hedges stood her father, watching Lily and Petunia. Emma began to go through the same memories Harry had of Snape’s childhood. She watched as Snape and Lily became friends, and then were slowly torn apart during their years at school. Eventually she made it to his memories as an adult.
The first memory was one she had seen before; Snape was atop a hill, turning on the spot, apparently waiting for something. Dumbledore Apparated, and Snape begged not to be killed.
“That was not my intention,” replied Dumbledore.
“Well, Severus?” He asked. “What message does Lord Voldemort have for me?”
“No—no message—I'm here on my own account!”
Snape went on to tell about how he had accidently told the prophecy to Voldemort, not believing it referred to Lily.
“Hide them all, then,” Snape croaked. “Keep her—them—safe. Please.”
“And what will you give me in return, Severus?”
“In—in return?” Snape gaped at Dumbledore. “Anything.”
The scene faded and Emma was standing in Dumbledore’s office. Emma knew what was going on even before she turned around. There was a terrible noise, and Emma knew it immediately to be her father’s sobbing.
“I thought… you were going… to keep her… safe…”
Emma wasn’t paying attention to the immediate scene anymore. Something else had caught her attention. There was a small basket behind, with something bundled up in a pink blanket within it. Emma walked forward, and looked down at the basket. She found herself looking back.
“Her son lives, as does your daughter. I am surprised you have not asked about Emexyinia until this point.”
“Emexyinia!” Snape suddenly exclaimed.
He hid his face in his hands.
“Oh, how could I forget?”
“She is fine,” said Dumbledore.
He lifted the bundle out of the basket behind his desk and handed me to my father. Snape looked down at me and tears began to fill his eyes.
“Harry has Lily’s eyes, precisely her eyes. You remember the shape and color of Lily Evan’s eyes, I am sure.”
DON’T!” bellowed Snape. “Gone…dead…”
“Is this remorse Severus?”
Emma looked back at herself again. She had awoken and was looking intently up at Snape. Emma noticed a tiny cut on the top of her forehead. So that’s where that scar had come from. She had always wondered about that cut. She had freed one of her tiny hands from the blanket and began waving it around. She noticed her tiny little fingernails were painted. Snape let her grasp his finger and held her tightly against him.
“The Dark Lord will return, and Harry Potter will be in terrible danger when he does.”
“Where will Emma go now?” he asked.
“Well, there are two options. You can decide to take her back and raise her myself, or you can give her back into my care and have me send her to Petunia and Vernon Dursley’s home with Harry Potter.”
“I can't do it.”
“To the Dursley’s it is…”
She continued through his memories until he came to the final one. She found it to be out of order. It belonged back before the memory in Dumbledore’s office…
Snape was navigating the Potter home, apparently late at night. The hallways were suspiciously quiet. Snape finally came across the nursery, where Lily Potter was laying dead on the floor. He collapsed. He sat on the floor, holding her body, sobbing and cursing Voldemort, Dumbledore, and the world. Emma closed her eyes against the sight of her father crying…
Emma stood in the present-day office again. Draco stared at her. The tears in her eyes silently spilt over.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
“Yeah, fine.”
“What are we going to do now?”
“Well, Harry is dead by now. I suppose we kill Voldemort now.”
“Wait, Harry is… dead?”
“Oh,” Emma said absently, “did I forget to mention that? I guess it skipped my mind. Things get tricky when it’s the end of the world.”