Chapter XXX: Greater than You
(Harry P.O.V)
Harry's nose curled at the scent of the approaching figure. Blood reeked from the man's black cloak, the venom in his eyes looking far more toxic than usual. His eyes flickered behind him, a smile breaking his blank expression for a moment as his friends turned to corner, doing as he asked. "Oh my," The voice from the shadows hissed, "Don't tell me your friends have all abandoned you?"
Harry's stomach curled as the man's snake-like face emerged from the darkness, "Though I suppose I can't blame them, any of my followers can testify that I can be quite ruthless when I'm angry." Lightning looked to flash behind his blistering glare as he hissed, "And right now, I'm furious for being disturbed."
A smirk etched its way onto Harry's face as he shifted his feet, "Well I apologize for pulling you away from your busy day of lounging and torturing those cowards who mindlessly follow you; but I suppose they wouldn't much care for following a master who cares not if they live or die." Harry clenched his fist, "Your Death Eaters, the ones I took care of; I have to admit that they weren't really enough for me." He cracked his neck as he shot the Dark Lord his dagger-like eyes, "That's why I'm glad you're here; I have some shit to work through."
Voldemort scowled, "Such insolence, to believe you truly have the power to stand before me, you must have forgotten what happened to poor Cedric."
"Never," Harry said, "I'll never forget that." He released a heavy breath as he forced a river of magic to the front of his mind, "But I'm not the same as the boy you toyed within the graveyard. Today," Harry said, his eyes locking with Voldemort's, "I'm the one who's destined to destroy you."
Magic pulsed from Harry's mind, his energy met by a wall of the Dark Lord's own, his eyes widening with confusion. The stone walls of Azkaban trembled as if the prison had become the epicenter of a global earthquake. Beam and stone pillars cracked and shattered, the falling rubble disintegrating as it approached the bubble of the clashing magic.
Harry's heels slid backward towards his wall of fire, the floor crumbling beneath the weight of him and Voldemort. The Dark Lord's magic weighed upon him like the gravity chamber, but for all the pressure he underwent, he was far from the only one struggling.
Growls of frustration ripped from Voldemort's throat as the man's body quivered from the strain. Each attempt at a step forward met with nothing but consistent rejection as Harry smiled. Harry roared, sending another crippling pulse of magic from his mind earning a nearly inaudible scream from the dark lord. The room erupted from the compressed bubble, the pop deafening him slightly as Voldemort's body slammed into the crumbling wall.
Harry lifted his arms, bending his knees as Voldemort pulled himself from the rubble. "It's not possible," He hissed, "How?! How could you have grown so much stronger in such a short time?"
Harry chuckled, "How, well ironically, you played a big role in this, Tom." The black-cloaked man snarled at the mention of his name. "You see, the day my mother died from me, she imparted upon me her protection, but she wasn't the only one to leave me a gift." He rubbed his scar, "When you tried to attack me, you granted me some of you power, all that was left for me to do was absorb it."
Voldemort's body rattled with anger as Harry's grin grew wider, "But I'll tell you what, you did me a massive favor by granting me some of your magic, so I'll be sure to return it to you," His grin vanished, replaced with an icy stare as he flared his magic, "With interest."
"Don't mock me!" Voldemort roared, orange fire forming in his throat, before a snake of Fiendfyre crawled from the man's lips. The firey snake curled around its master as Voldemort's anger turned to laughter, "You talk to me as if we are equals. I'll be sure to show you how misguided you are."
The Dark Lord extended his hand, the flaming beast racing towards him, bringing an immediate sweat to his face. "Equals?" Harry muttered, widening his stance as he shot his hands across his body, his fists pointed and the fractured ground, "No, as of now, I'm even stronger than you." A grunt ripped from Harry's lungs as the ground bent to his will. Harry lifted his arms, as a bolder lacked in black stone tile rose from the ground before slamming into the fire snake with a sound-shattering impact.
Ash and dust clouded their bubble, but Harry didn't need his eyes to see. Wind swirled in his left palm, while the Black Family Flames flickered in his right. Harry swung his hands back, before, with a thunderous boom, he clapped them together.
The surrounding dust cleared instantly as the wave of enhanced endless flames raced towards the man that had single-handily ruined his life of peace. The man's eyes widened like a frightened puppy as he leapt towards the side, just barely avoided the burning fire before Harry slammed down his foot.
Black chains sprouted from the ground like flowers as they bolted towards the Dark Lord. Magic may have been pulsing through Harry's veins like never before, but Voldemort was far from weak or unskilled. Faster than the chains could connect, Voldemort vanished into a puff of black clouds, zipping behind him. Protego! Harry thought, his heels sliding back from the impact of Voldemort's knockback-jinx.
"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort bellowed, the green light racing towards Harry. But he didn't move. With a snap of his fingers, a murder of crows surrounded him, one falling dead from the green light's impact before Harry conjured a plume of deep black smoke. "This again," Voldemort hissed. "All of that talk and you're just going to run aw-"
Crack! Blood splashed across Harry's knuckles as the sound of Voldemort's shattered jaw sounded like music to his ear. The Dark Lord hit the ground with a thud, the black smoke vanishing at Harry's command as he watched the once-though unbeatable Dark Wizard flinch at the sight of his own blood. "Clean yourself up. You look pathetic."
"You dare," Voldemort whispered, "You dare to lay your filthy, muggle-loving hands on me!" His voice now thundered, the man's previous composure non-existence as he stumbled to his feet. "If you insist on fighting me, I promise you-"
"Fight you?" Harry questioned, "You're talking about this as if it's some kind of game. No, I'm here to kill you."
A low growl slipped from Voldemort's lips as he rose to his feet, "Is that so? Very well, then." Harry's eyes narrowed as the Dark Lord lifted his wand, "Let's finish this Potter, once and for all."
Harry flicked his wrist, his wand cradled in his palm as he nodded, "I couldn't agree more." Harry took a deep breath, steadying his arm as he allowed the hatred within him bubble up once more. "For Cedric. For Tonks. For my family-"
"Avada Kedavra!" The two bellowed in unison. The whisps of green light danced for a moment in the air before they collided in a blinding flash. Harry's shoulder bucked, as his spine shivered. Everything about the spell made him feel sick. The scent of death filled the air and the voice of his screaming mother the night that Voldemort had taken her from him rattled in his ears.
A burst of sickening laughter erupted from Voldemort's throat, "Foolish boy! You are not ready for a spell of this nature. I'll admit, your power may be great, but your conviction is weak. You don't have the hate to make your spell strong- your foolish, loving belief doesn't give you the power to wield the killing curse." Voldemort's lips curled, "You're a pathetic wizard, just like Dumbledore!"
"Hatred," Harry whispered, Voldemorts line of green pushing hard against his, "What do you know of hated? So your mother was an abused girl who drugged your father so that you could be born. And your father was nothing more than a common muggle uninterested in caring for you or your pathic mother. And because of that, you think you have the right to rule over their world, just because a few people were mean to you. Let me tell you something that doesn't make you great; it makes you just as pathetic as your father."
"But as for me," Harry growled, "You killed my defenseless father, too afraid to duel him like a man. After that, you killed another defenseless witch in my mother for no other reason than you were afraid of a baby. But it didn't end there; your plan backfired so badly the world thought you gone for good. Unfortunately, you decided to come back, and in doing so, you took a friend of mine. A seventeen-year-old boy, who never posed a threat to you, just because you were bored. Then, you took your cruelty a step further and tortured my sister, my own family, before having her killed. Why? It was because you were so afraid of the chance that I may unlock the power to finishing you once and for all. Each and every single one of your efforts were made with nothing but fear of me in your heart."
"So no, you don't even understand what your saying. If this spell is powered on hatred, then I suggest you try and repent for your actions," Harry's green light flashed, filling the room as he roared, "Because my hatred is far stronger than yours!"
Voldemort hissed as Harry roared, his wand splintering from the magic pouring from its core. Harry hissed as the skin on his wand arm, began to burn, becoming more ghastly and disfigured by the second. For a moment, their roars of defiance fell silent, before, the walls of the prison crumbled, and a green light encompassed the two wizards.
(Daphne P.O.V)
Daphne ran, her heart racing as she turned her back on the boy she loved. He loves me, she whispered, I should stay with him, I- "Don't even think about it," Astoria whispered to her as she ran beside her as if she was reading her thoughts. "I don't like it either, but if we stick around, all we'll manage to do is get in Harry's way."
"I know. It's just-,"
"He promised you he wasn't going to die, didn't he?" Astoria snipped. Daphne nodded as Astoria smiled, "Alright, then you have nothing to worry about. Harry never breaks his promises. He'll be just fine, but we need to get out of here before this whole place collapses."
"Do you think it really will collapse," Claire whispered, as she ran beside Neville, the group following Astoria's lead. "I mean, do you think that Harry's really become that strong?"
"Yeah," Neville whispered, "I know that none of you can sense magic but-," Neville swallowed as he spoke, "From what I sense of Harry, I think he's actually stronger than Voldemort now."
Daphne's eyes widened at the Hufflepuff's statement, "Regardless, it doesn't matter," Neville said. "Right now, when those two start fighting, the ones in the most danger will be us. We need to get out of here quickly. Are you sure we're heading in the right direction to find them, Astoria?"
"Yeah," Astoria said as she picked up her pace, "We're almost there."
"I never got a chance to ask," Fred called out, "But Ron-"
"Was he with you guys?" George finished.
Astoria fell quiet as they reached the hall that led to the clearing where her battle had happened. "Fred, George, I-, we-," Astoria's fist clenched tightly, "Ron, he-"
"What happened to him!" Fred shouted, "What about Ron?"
"Just tell us, Astoria! Is Ron, is he-,"
Astoria's eyes sunk to the floor as she shook her head, "No," The twins whispered, "No, that- you can't be serious. He-"
"They're down there," Astoria whispered, "Right at the end of this hall. I'm- I'm sorry." Her sister slid down the stone wall clutching her head. Daphne stepped towards her, but Neville's hand stopped her.
"I'll stay with her," Neville said, his eyes firm with conviction, "You're a healer, Daphne. You're needed in there. Patch them up as best as you can, and let's get moving. There's a time to mourn later, but Astoria, she doesn't need to see that place again.
Daphne raced down the corridor, the scent of burnt corpses filling her nostrils as the carnage had come into view. Her head pounded as she scanned the room, charred bodies littered the ground, and blood coated the base of her shoes. Her skin crawled at the sight, as the fainted body of the blue-haired boy dangled over the edge of a conjured stone pillar. "Michael!" Claire cried as she raced towards her boyfriend.
The girl's athleticism as she scaled the pillar to Michael's side had been astounding, but her blood ran cold as she turned to find the body of a Death Eater, his skull fractured and his body indented into the wall. Just what the hell happened here? Tears filled the air, pulling her towards the noise, her heart sinking in her chest. No, Ron. The boy's body laid unmoving on the ground as blood leaked from a ghastly purple scar. Tracey's head rested upon the boy's chest her sobbing leaving her quite and frail. "Tracey," Blaise whispered, as Daphne watched Fred and George race towards their little brother.
"No, no, no, this can't be happening," Fred said, his hands racing all over Ron's body, desperate to find something, anything that showed life.
"Not again- this," George said the tears now racing down his cheeks, "Please, this can't happen again. You've gotta wake up Ron, please, you can't be-"
"I'm sorry," Tracey cried, "I'm sorry. I tried to close the wound, but, there was nothing I could do. I-," Tracey's head sunk deeper into Ron, "God I'm so sorry."
"Tracey," Daphne said, her hand reaching out to her friend slowly only to have it swatted away, the trauma ever-present in her eyes.
"No! I won't go! Don't touch me, I-!"
"Stupefy!" Blaise whispered the stunner striking Tracey right in the chest to everyone's surprise. Daphne's eyes shot towards Blaise, but the sadness in the boy's eyes silenced her. "Under normal circumstances, I'd hold her until she stopped shaking, I'd tell her everything was going to be alright. But now-," His eyes moved towards the trembling walls, "If we stick around any longer, this place is going to collapse and we're all going to die." He walked towards Tracey, lifting her in his arms as he forced a sad smile to his face, "I just hope she'll forgive me once this is over."
Daphne watched as the twins carried their brother, their lips quivering as they tried not to allow the emotion in their hearts to overwhelm them. Claire skid down the stone pillar, struggling to lift the boy larger than her from his perch atop the stone. Daphne raced to her side, sipping her neck under Michael's arm as Claire stared at her blankly. "He saved my life in Diagon Alley, I owe him one. After this though, we're even." Claire nodded as she took Michael's other arm. The two just barely managed to move out of the way of a stone avalanche as a hole ruptured in the roof of the prison. "Not good," Daphne hissed, "We really need to go."
"Dobby," She called out, her elf turning to her side. "Start with Fred, George, and Ron. Get them outside and come back and get Blaise and Tracey. Okay?"
"Yes, Miss Greeny," Dobby said as the elf raced over to the side of the orange-haired children. The look in the twins' eyes had made her nauseous, and as miserable as it sounded, she was glad when they'd apparated away.
She turned towards her best friends quickly, "Wait right there, Dobby will be back to get you any second. We're going to meet with Astoria and Neville again." Blaise nodded, and Daphne let out a sigh of relief as her elf appeared in the corner of her eye, popping Blaise and Tracey from the wreckage just as she exited the clearing. Her heart pounded in her chest as she and Claire hobbled Michael from the room, the prison shaking from the battle in the distance. Harry, please be okay?
"He'll be alright," Claire whispered, "You heard Neville. Harry, he's on an entirely different level now."
Daphne nodded, but it did little to heal her discomfort as she watched the way Neville stood over her sister in the distance. She hurried her pace as best she could, as Michael's feet dragged against the cold ground. Neville's eyes grew, fear bubbling behind them but Daphne shook her head. "He's alive. Hurt, but alive." A sigh of relief escaped Neville's lips as the boy turned to look down the hall, sweat pouring from his brow.
"We need to get out of here, I've never felt so much magic clashing in my life, this place isn't going to hold out much longer." Daphne nodded at the boy's sentiment. Neville smiled, however, as Dobby appeared at her side. "Right," Neville said with a light smile, "I forgot you had a house-elf. Good, that means we can-"
"Dobby," Daphne called out, "Get everyone else out of here and don't come back. I'll find Harry and make it out on my own."
"Daphne what are you talking about, we can't stay we'll-," Neville started.
"I love him, Neville," Daphne snapped back, "I can't leave him to face Voldemort alone. I won't leave him." Her eyes turned to her elf, "Dobby take them all now, and get somewhere safe. I don't want you coming back here until I give you permission."
"Yes, Miss Greeny, Dobby will do as you ask. But Dobby doesn't think staying is a good idea."
"I'll be fine," Daphne said through gritted teeth, "Just go!"
Dobby nodded, and Daphne let out a gentle grin, catching the smallest glimpse of the panic in Astoria's eyes. Her body froze, however, as Neville grabbed her wrist, "You're being ridiculous, you're coming with me." Daphne had wanted to protest, but her words fell silent as Dobby popped, their group vanishing from the crumbling castle.
Fire coursed in Daphne's veins as she stumbled against the graveled ground just beyond the prison gates. Her body had become littered with cuts and bruises, and her bones ached from the impact. Her eyes flashed towards Neville, the boy unable to look at her as she screamed, "Why! Why would you do that! What if Harry needed help! How could you just turn you're back on him like that!"
"Daphne," Astoria whispered, "You're normally the logical one. I understand that you're worried about him, I feel about ready to vomit myself. But that magic, the magic that each of them were using, we weren't ready to handle that. If you went there, there's no telling what could have happened. You shouldn't yell at Neville, he was just trying to follow Harry's last orders of keeping you safe."
Daphne gritted her teeth, her fist clenched tightly as she turned to gaze upon the crumbling prison. "We shouldn't just be standing here. We need to help. There has to be something we can do."
Her heart jumped as a flurry of pops erupted behind her. Her wand flew to her hand but fell soon after as relief swelled in her heart. Sirius smiled at her, with Remus standing calmly at his side. "You kids sure found yourself in a lot of trouble, didn't you," Sirius said his grey eyes resting upon Daphne as he reached his hand out, placing it upon her shoulder. "I don't need to look any farther than your expression to know you've had one hell of a time." Daphne's breathing had become more sporadic as the likes of Moody and Ted appeared behind the Head of House Black.
"Sirius," Remus whispered, the werewolf gazing over the injuries that littered the group, "Some of these kids are in critical condition. We have to get them to St. Mungos or-"
"Take them to Madam Pomfrey," Sirius whispered, "Taking them to St. Mungos would lead to far too many questions."
"The boy isn't here," Moody growled.
"Neither is Nym," Ted said, his eyes trembling in their sockets.
Stone walls crumbled as flashes of dust and orange flames flickered through the collapsing prison. "Don't tell me, that magic that I'm sensing," Moody growled, "He's here." Daphne nodded as black flames erupted from the prison's side. "Those flames, I recognize them. Is Potter-"
Daphne turned away, unable to speak as Sirius took off towards the shattered prison gates. "Padfoot, wait!" Remus shouted, "We need a plan! If Voldemort is in there we-"
"I won't let him take Harry from me!" Sirius shouted, "I made a promise to James I'd protect Harry no matter what! If you think I'm letting my godson fight that monster alone, you have another thing coming!"
"Damnit it, Sirius!" Remus roared, chasing after the Head of House Black, "Wait!"
"Daphne, don't-," Astoria whispered, but Daphne paid them no mind, escaping from the group as she ran after the two adult Gryffindors. The walls of the prison shook worse than ever before, and the scent of death radiated from every stone. Remus and Sirius hadn't even taken a moment to look behind them as they sprinted towards the sounds of the battle. Despite the distance, the three had closed the gap in what must have been seconds.
Her breath hitched, however, as just as they'd turned the corner, an explosion of green light filled their eyes. "Harry!" she shouted, pushing past Remus and Sirius as she raced into the blinding light. The screams of agony fell frighteningly silent, as two thuds echoed in her ears. "No," She whispered, "Please, no." The light had dimmed, allowing for her eyes to open, though part of her had wished she'd been blinded forever.
Two figures laid upon the ground, buried within craters as the walls that one supported the prison had vanished completely from sight. The two men didn't move, they didn't even look to be breathing as she raced towards Harry's side. The boy looked miserable, his face littered with scrapes and blood. His wand rested at his side, or at least, what remained of it. The weapon now nothing but a trail of dust leading to a splintered handle. Harry's wand arm wasn't looking much better. His tanned skin now gruesomely burned, slightly-blackened, and disfigured. The flesh peeled and bleeding up to his elbow, a putrid stench rising from the injury. She ran her hand over the arm, chanting every burn-healing spell she knew, but as soon as even a modicum of healing had been seen, the skin deteriorated once more. Her breathing became rapid as she placed her head to the boy's chest. It's not beating.
She clamped her hands over each other as she pounded against his chest in a steady rhythm. The cracking of the boy's ribs sent shivers down her spine but Daphne didn't relent. "Come on Harry, breathe! Breathe damn it!" Tears poured uncontrollably as her compression grew even stronger, "Come on you stupid bastard, you can't just tell me you love me and then die! I need you, Harry! Breathe! Please breathe!" She placed her lips to his, filling him with air. Her head lowered, "Please Harry, you can't die on me, you promised. I didn't even get the chance to say it back. I love you, Harry. Please, please come back."
Her head sunk, her tears falling onto Harry's face. She clenched her eyes shut, her bottom lips quivering as she sobbed. Footsteps slowly approached her side, the warm hands of Remus and Sirius now resting on her shoulder, providing her what little comfort they could. Sirius' hand clenched against her shoulder tightly as a scream slowly built in Daphne's throat. Then, it fell silent as the cool touch of a familiar hand graced her cheek. Her eyes opened, blurred and watery, the faintest glimpse of emerald green flashing before her. "Hey," his voice whispered weakly, "What's with that pathetic face, I told you I wasn't going to die, didn't I?"
"H-Harry?" Daphne whispered, "Y-you're alive?"
"If the tremendous pain in my body is any indication," Harry said with a weak grin, "I'd say yes. Although, I guess there's a chance I could be in hell too. But, I don't think I'd hear you say those words to me if I was."
Daphne gritted her teeth as her fingers scraped against the dust-filled ground, "You're such a reckless idiot. If you ever do anything like that again, I'll send you to hell myself."
Harry smiled weakly, his head laying softly in her lap as she whispered, "Voldemort, is he dead?"
Pops erupted around them as Bellatrix Lestrange and Antonin Dolohov appeared before them, standing at their master's side. Sirius and Remus quickly lifted their wands, their breaths heavy. Whatever they went through before this, Daphne thought to herself, they're completely drained. I feel like I can't even move, and Harry's down for the count. If we fight here, we lose. "Master!" Bellatrix shrieked, "Master, speak to me! The deed at Hogwarts, it's been done! Please master, speak to me!" Her eyes flashed towards them like daggers as she lifted her wand, "You filthy muggle-loving blood traitors, how dare you lay a hand on my master! I'll kill you all, Avada-,"
"Bella, stop," Daphne watched as Harry's eyes widened, the voice rising from the other grounded man, "You must take me to him." The Dark Lord coughed, blood spewing from his lips. "We don't have time to waste. My condition- we must prepare for the ritual. My gift to you- you must-" The Dark Lord's head dropped lifelessly as Bellatrix screamed in fear. Did Harry- Is he- Dead?"
"You're not going anywhere!" Sirius roared, as he lifted his wand, his hand stopped by Remus.
"We're in no condition to fight them, Moody and Ted are probably still bringing the other kids to Hogwarts, "We need to play it cool right now. Look at her, she's still fresh, we're on our last legs here. Not to mention-" Remus' eyes floated down towards Harry, "Harry's condition is serious, we need to get him to treatment immediately. We don't have time to waste."
Daphne watched with gritted teeth as Dolohov and Bellatrix, took to either side of their master. The same burns which seared Harry's arm present all across the Dark Lord's body. "Master!" Bellatrix cried, "Master, please! No!" Her eyes glared with venom as she gazed at Harry, the boy smirking at the Dark Witch's fear. "Our master will recover, Potter!" Bellatrix shrieked, "And when he does, He'll kill you!
"Tell him I look forward to it," Harry's eyes drooped softly as Daphne watched the boy slip from consciousness. Bellatrix's face radiated with fire, but she took no further action, nodding silently, before turning to smoke alongside Dolohov.
The room fell quiet as Sirius turned, finding the body of Tonks laying softly on the ground, "Tonks, no." Tears filled Sirius' eyes as he cradled his favorite cousin, "I'm sorry. We were too late to save you."
Yet Remus didn't move. Rather he stood watching over Harry with a haunting frown. "What's wrong?" Daphne whispered, "He beat Voldemort, didn't he? I mean, I know we lost Tonks but, with Voldemort damaged, it means we have time to destroy the Horcruxes and-"
"The last thing we saw before Voldemort was crippled was flash of green light, did we not," Remus whispered. Daphne nodded her eyes widening with fear as Remus continued, "He nearly killed a man, even if that man was Voldemort, with the killing curse." His eyes hardened as he glanced at Harry's arm, "The killing curse is known for shattering the soul of the one who uses it. When it backfired against Voldemort the day he first died, it sent him into near oblivion. I fear that even attempting to use the curse, and having minor success with it-," Harry's arms twitched even in his unconscious state, "The consequences may be severe."
"His arm, you think it may be a result of the curse?" Daphne whispered, "Are you saying he'll never recover?"
"You tried to heal it, did you not?" Remus whispered, "And it refused to fade. Whether I agree with Harry's decision or not, I fear his arm will always act as a mark of his choice." Remus' eyes shifted towards Tonks and Sirius, she watched as Remus trembled at the way Sirius cried and held the fallen girl. "There's little left for us to do here. Let's leave this place. We have funerals to arrange."
(Michael P.O.V)
"Ouch, ouch, ouch," Michael hissed as his mother forced his hand through the sleeve of his black suit jacket. "Mom, can you be a bit more gentle, my whole arm is kind of broken, you know?"
"You should be lucky that it's only your arm that's broken," His mom snapped back, readjusting his arm sling over his suited-body. "I can't stop thinking about Molly, poor girl. Two children dead before they could even finish Hogwarts. It makes me feel sick to my stomach, and I don't even want to talk about the Tonks', that poor family."
Tears streamed down his mother's cheeks, "Merlin, I just can't help wondering what if that was you? What if I had to bury you? I don't think I could do it. I- Michael, please, I'm begging you, step away from this war. It isn't your problem. I can't bear the thought of losing you."
"Mom, I-," Michael stopped, a knocking emerging from the Hospital Wing's door. "Come in," Michael called, the door creaking open. Claire stood there, her pink hair somehow looking less vibrant than before. Her black-dressed hugged her figure perfectly, and at any other time, Michael would find himself amazed by how beautiful she looked, but now- it wasn't the time.
"How are you feeling?" Claire called out,
Michael shrugged, "Could be better, could be worse." He locked eyes with his girlfriend's grey pools, "How about you?"
"The same," Claire muttered, "The funeral services are starting in a little if you're ready to go. My dad, he's already waiting at the lake if you want to join us." Michael nodded, turning to his mother, who followed behind him, his good hand gripping Claire's as they walked. "Have you heard from Harry recently. I know that unlike the rest of us, he was moved to St. Mungos because his injuries were too severe for even Madam Pomfrey to handle. I mean, I'd be surprised if he wasn't there, but I'd also-"
"He'll be here," Michael nodded, "I haven't received any news, but I know he'd never miss his sister's funeral." The castle's halls were dimly lit, as each of the House colors were turned to shades of black. "I'd never imagined I'd see the castle in mourning two years in a row. He was never the greatest man, but- I still can't believe he's dead."
"What do you think happens now?" Claire whispered, "Who takes over Hogwarts? Who makes sure the castle is safe? What are the next steps? I- I've never felt so lost before."
"I imagine McGonagall will take the reins as Headmistress; Dumbledore always did have a soft spot for her. Though, it could also be Snape; he was never the most predictable person. As for what happens next, I guess that's up to Harry to decide. With Voldemort crippled and Dumbledore dead, Harry undisputably the leader of the Order now."
"Do you think he's ready?"
"No," Michael said, "But I don't think any of us are." He glanced back at his mother before turning to face the open field, "Still, I think we're all in too deep to pull out now. There's only one way left to go; forward."
The castle's air felt heavier. Every student wandered the damaged castle dressed in black. No noise radiated from anywhere, Hogwarts looked more like a ghost town than a school. Reconstruction on the Quidditch Pitch had yet to start, the Slytherin bleacher completely collapsed, with the bodies of the Lestrange brother reportedly being recovered for cremation.
A sad grin crossed his face as he found the castle's newest arrival waiting in the courtyard for them. Daphne sat by his side, her hand in his, her other hand swatting away Harry's persistent effort to scratch his damaged arm. "Stop that," Daphne snipped, "You heard what Dr. Tatcher said. Those bandages are the only thing stopping your arm from being in complete agony; you don't want to rip them. Especially not after we spent fourteen hours charming them to be as durable as possible."
Michael's eyes fell towards the wrap. His best friend's hand now coated from fingertips to elbow in a sleek white bandage wrap. "Sorry, it just- it tingles, a lot."
"A numb tingle is better than pain, though, isn't it?" Daphne replied to which Harry nodded silently.
The boy looked different; his hair had been cut shorter, and he wore an appropriately sized suit. But that wasn't the difference that stood out to Michael the most. Harry was stressed; he could see it through the boy's calm facade. It was more than stress, though. It was in the way Harry averted his eyes to everyone. Guilt filled his soul- guilt, and pain.
For a brief second, the two locked eyes as they shared a quick nod before Harry broke their connection once more. "How are you holding up?" Michael asked.
"I'm alive," Harry said with a shrug, "And considering what happened, I guess that's something in itself."
"Do you want to talk about-,"
"I'd rather not," Harry said, his eyes falling to the ground, "I'm not ready for that- yet." Michael nodded silently as his mother broke from the group heading towards the visitor section for the funeral. "I know that Sirius and the Weasley's are planning on having their own separate services later. Unlike today where the caskets are empty apart from Dumbledore's. I figured-" Harry sighed, "I figured that today would be a good test to see how I handle it all."
Michael nodded, "We're here for you, Harry." His best friend nodded, but Michael knew the boy hadn't heard a word he said. Together, they walked, each step making his body tremble as he approached the sight of the fallen Headmaster. The Weasley's huddled together; quiet tears fell from their face as they mourned.
Michael wasn't quite sure if the Tonks were doing much better. They didn't cry; they didn't scream; they didn't even move. Are they even still in there? He wondered as he gazed upon their blank faces. What he did notice, however, was Harry had refused to look at any of them. His eyes centered upon Neville as he rubbed Hermione's back, whispering whatever words he could conjure to provide the girl some hope.
Tracey, Blaise, and Astoria stood in silence themselves. Their heads bowed before Ron's coffin as Tracey struggled to swallow her tears, her head leaned against Blaise's shoulder. "Mr. Corner, Ms. Belmont," Flitwick called from behind him, their Head of House dressed in regal black robes, "I'm glad to see you are unharmed. I feel it is my duty to inform you that if for any reason, you need someone to talk to about the events that occurred recently, I will be available to you at all times."
"Thank you, Professor," Claire whispered, "But, I think we'll be okay."
Flitwick nodded as he turned to face Harry, "Professor McGonagall asked that if any professor were to find you, Mr. Potter, to inform you that she would also be willing to do the same for you. After the service, she's asked me to ensure you speak with her. Apparently, Professor Dumbledore has requested some of his items be bequeathed to you."
"Thank you, Professor," Harry said, with a firm nod, "I'll speak to her after the service."
Professor Flitwick nodded, leaving them in silence as he joined the line of teachers that stood before Dumbledore's grave. Slowly, McGonagall turned, lifting her wand to her throat as she began. "Students, Staff, Friends, and Family, I stand here, riddled with despair. In my wildest dreams, I never imagined that there would come a time in Hogwarts History, where two memorial services had to be held one year after the other."
"This castle mourns the loss of Cedric Diggory," McGonagall called out, "And now it mourns the loss of its Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, along with two of his former students. I must confess, I find the moment agonizing. Though not a perfect man, Albus Dumbledore always strived to be a man who did what was best for the most people. In truth, I owe the man greatly, for allowing me to become the witch I am today. For it was him that granted me the position of Transfiguration Professor. He claimed he saw greatness in me and gave me a chance. That eye for greatness and that faith in his students made Albus Dumbledore recognized as one of the Greatest Headmasters who ever served this castle."
"Despite his fame as a hero of war, Albus Dumbledore was a man who loved deeply and wanted nothing more than peace. His desire for peace is why his death at the hands of the foul followers of the Dark Lord make me sick to my stomach!" Tears fell from McGonagall's cheeks as she spoke, "But Dumbledore was not the only one who fell tat retched day."
"When Ron Weasley arrived at Hogwarts and had been sorted into Gryffindor, my mind filled with question." McGonagall smiled sadly, "Would he be an earnest young man like his eldest brothers, or would he be a boy, much like his brothers who, despite all their antics, never failed to bring a smile to face of their classmates. " She shook her head, "It turned out, Ronald Weasley was neither of those things. He wasn't gifted like his eldest brother, nor was he as creative as the twins. But he showed me something in his last two years at this school that I saw from very few students in the past. Ronald Weasley recognized his imperfections and desired to become more perfect. He rose from average Quidditch Player to a Keeper worthy of his place on the Gryffindor House Team. He rose from a below-average student to a student who had he lived would have received an O in transfiguration this year. If Ronald Weasley showed me- showed us anything, it is the remarkable ability we as people have for improvement. He taught us all that the people we are now are not the same people we have to be forever. There is greatness in all of us that should we strive to reach it, we, in turn, can become great."
"Finally, we gather here today, to memorialize, the strength of character and will of one of our former students, and auror, Nymphadora Tonks." McGonagall's eyes lowered as she spoke. "I imagine that many of you current students may not be familiar with Ms. Tonks, so allow me to inform you. Nymphadora Tonks was a student like no other. When accepted into the auror corps, Mad-Eye Moody had been assigned the head instructor. Upon hearing this, the wizarding world had come to a halt. People feared that with Moody in charge, the DMLE of Wizarding Britain would become critically understaffed as nobody would be able to pass the man's rigorous requirements." McGonagall smiled sadly, "They were right to be concerned, as every auror applicant had failed Moody's tests that year, everyone, but Nymphadora Tonks."
"When she'd been named the sole survivor of Moody's reign of terror, the world expected great things from her. And by every measure, she delivered. In her first year-" Michael's eyes shifted, as Harry shuffled from their line, his body trembling as he bit his lips tightly.
"Harry," Daphne whispered, as Michael's eyes followed Harry's watching as Andromeda finally broke, sobs leaving the woman's lips. "Harry what happened to them, it's not your fault."
"If only that were true," Harry said, his eyes scanning how the Weasley family cried, only for his gaze to return towards the woman Michael knew Harry considered to be his adopted mother. "It's my war, Daphne." Harry's fist tightened. "My war, my soldiers, my fault."
Daphne reached for Harry's hand, but the boy turned away, slipping silently through the crowd. "Harry, please, you-," Michael reached out, stopping Daphne's hand as the girl glared at him. "You're best friend is hurting, why are you just standing here silently. If you don't want me to go after him, then why don't you?"
"It's precisely because he's hurting that I'm not following him," Michael whispered, turning his attention back to the funeral. "Whether he likes it or not, he's the one that's viewed as the leader now. If we see him waver here, he'll never forgive himself. He knows it as much as I do, he now carries the burden of being a commander, don't make it any harder on him; then it needs to be."
Daphne's body shook with frustration as Michael nudged his head towards Andromeda and Ted, the two now following after Harry. "I understand that you love him, but right now, it's their words he needs to hear, not ours. Let's stay out of this; for now."