Featherlight Taction

Maraudersbanana (ff.net): OMG, I love your username.

A/N: OK, so half of you are like “SLASH GIVE SLASH OMGDROOLSPAZFOAMATMOUTH” and the rest of you are like “Keep them in character or I will stab you with spork!”. Needless to say, I’m a thoroughly afraid of all of you. I thought I should tell you that it’s going to take a lot of pent up emotions for the slash to come, and in order for emotions to boil up to that point, it takes time. I’m not letting go of my in-character promise. Even in the end, if they’ve changed, it will be progressive and transitional. I want this story to be smooth and believable from start to finish. Hopefully I’m doing that. Let me know how I’m doing, guys, and don’t stab me with sporks, please.

A/N 2: Also, someone asked me if I was going to stay canon with all the Deathly Hallows deaths. The answer is: no, I’m not. In fact, most of the DH deaths probably won’t happen, and there’ll be different ones instead! (omfg) Yes, there will be more deaths. Deal with it.

A/N: Just as an explanation of sorts for this chapter, I thought I’d let you know that the scenes, if that what you want to call them, are really short. This chapter kind of comes in snippets. Yay for snippets!

A/N 4: Lastly for my ridiculous amount of author notes, I suggest to you all that if you do not know the word I choose for the title of each chapter, LOOK IT UP. I choose these words carefully and they really describe what is coming in the chapter. Dictionary(dot)com is a perfect reference. You won’t really need to look up the chapter title this time. If you don’t know this word… I weep for you.

Now READ, my minions!

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Fear is like a tree
That grows inside of me silently
And you could be my blood
And be a part of me secretly

I've lost a war
I've lost a fight
I've killed a man
Wasted a life

Open my eyes, let me see you
And blow this blinding darkness away
Open my eyes, let me find you
Give me a sign

Hate is like a ghost
That lives inside of me, I plead
For you to be my guide
To be the feeder of my need

I've lost a war
I've lost a fight
I've killed a man
Wasted a life

Open my eyes, let me see you
And blow this blinding darkness away
Open my eyes, let me find you
Give me a sign

Take my word and fold me in
Free the soul behind the sin
The endless dark will be the death of my senses
Take my heart and hold it in
Kill the beast under my skin
The endless dark will be the death of my senses

Open my eyes, let me see you
And blow this blinding darkness away
Open my eyes...

Open my eyes, let me see you
And blow this blinding darkness away
Open my eyes...Give me a sign


-The Rasmus – Open My Eyes.

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Featherlight Taction

Chapter 12- Funeral


The days following Tonks’ death were quite and long. It was two days before Christmas, and no one was celebrating. They’d brought the auror’s body to the Burrow, where they would hold her funeral. Tonks’ parents had wanted her to be buried in the graveyard by their home, but the Order had decided that it wasn’t safe to do at the moment, so they opted to move her body later; when the war was over.

As such, a large group of friends, family, and aurors alike had gathered at the Burrow. Many of them had pitched tents outside; much like the ones that Harry and the Weasleys had used in the Quidditch World Cup. Others just didn’t sleep, and they patrolled around the gardens and hills as if expecting an attack at any moment. This infuriated Mrs. Weasley, of course.

“They’re acting as if a whole army of Death Eaters is going to come knocking on our door!” Molly cried out in exasperation as she served out some soup for those at the dinner table.

“They’re aurors, my dear,” Arthur Weasley replied in a sort of poor explanation.

Moody nodded and poured some whiskey into his glass. He had taken it upon himself to quickly empty the Weasleys’ entire supply of alcohol. “It gives them something to do,” he said as he took a swig. “They would be fighting right now, so being out here makes them feel uneasy.”

The room’s occupants nodded in silence. They couldn’t help but feel that Moody was talking about himself too.

Harry stared down into his soup with blank eyes. Ever since Tonks’ death, he’d been overcome with the most apathetic guilt. Just a week ago she had taught him how to cast a stronger disillusionment charm. And now she was dead; all because she had tried to help him. Why was it that everyone who tried to help him would end up dead? His wrapped his fingers tightly around his spoon, ignoring the metal as it dug into his skin.

Hermione was no better off. She only stopped crying to breathe. Her companions had gotten used to her random outbreaks of sobbing and incomprehensible gibberish that accompanied it. Ron would merely hold her until the shivers ebbed and he would wipe her tears away. Any other time, this would have seemed so romantic; but at the time, it just became another thing fading into the mournful silence that was rarely broken.

Remus sat at the far end of the table, his gaze distant as he looked out the window into the yard. He had told her not to love him. He had told her that she was young… that her whole life was ahead of her. He had refused to love her…

Moody declined to think at all. He had drowned all his thoughts in firewhiskey, not allowing the thoughts of remorse or sadness enter his mind. She had been a fellow auror. The only one he had ever really liked…

Ginny had come home for Christmas just a few days before it had happened, and she stewed silently in her seat, furious that she had not been there. Maybe she could have helped. She could have done something! She bowed her head, her vibrant red hair falling down around her face. She knew that was silly to think; that she could have prevented the death. But still, she felt so useless.

Even the twins, Fred and George, were completely silent, their face devoid of their normal goofy grins. They hadn’t known Tonks well, but they’d always shared a good laugh with her. She had been so funny...

Mr. Weasley cleared his throat and all of the heads at the table turned simultaneously towards him, knocked out of their thoughts. He swallowed in embarrassment at the sudden attention and turned to Harry. “I was wondering if I might speak with you,” he said. Harry looked over at Ron for a sort of confirmation. His friend simply nodded and went back to patting Hermione on the back.

Sighing, Harry rose from his chair, the wood scraping against the floor loudly. The others watched him as he followed Arthur out into the yard; and then they all turned back to their meals, none of them actually eating.

Mr. Weasley waited until they had walked far away from the house before he spoke, turning to Harry as they continued to wander.
“Harry, I know what you’re feeling,” he said with a pained expression as Harry looked away.

‘No you don’t,’ Harry thought bitterly.

The elder wizard seemed to hear this thought. “Harry… I know that you feel guilty for what happened, but it wasn’t your fault.” His voice was firm. Harry rethought the situation for a moment. Maybe Mr. Weasley understood a little, but no one really understood. No one knew what it was like to lose everyone you loved. Everyone who was there for you… One by one, he was losing them all.

Arthur stopped and stilled Harry as well with a large hand on his shoulder. He waited until Harry faced him before he spoke again. “This is a war Harry. No, look at me. This is a war, and people are going to die. Tonks, Sirius, Dumbledore… they all knew that. They were all willing to make that sacrifice for the greater good.”

“What is the greater good?” Harry replied, feeling his face heat up. He hadn’t wanted to think about Sirius and Dumbledore. “Why is everyone dying?”

“Everyone isn’t dying!” Arthur responded, gesturing back towards the Burrow. “Look at all those people down there! They are all here to help you. And those people in the house! They all love you. Every last one. We aren’t dead.”

Harry bit his lip and fought against his tears. “I don’t want that to change…”

“It won’t change, Harry,” Arthur said strongly, placing his other hand on Harry’s free shoulder and looking into his eyes. “Even if we die, we will always be with you.”

“I don’t want you to die!” Harry cried, his eyes sparkling like crystals in his sadness. “I don’t want anyone else to die!”

“None of us do, but it’s going to happen. What’s important for you to remember is that not a single one of us regrets what we’ve done for you and for this war. Not Tonks, not Sirius, and certainly not Dumbledore. None of us would have changed a thing we’ve done. Through life and death and all the things that are out there, we are he for you, Harry. Always.”

Harry was unable to respond, his grief too overwhelming to allow him, so Mr. Weasley just pulled him close in a warm embrace. Harry clung to him, thanking the gods once more for the Weasleys; thanking Merlin for all his friends; and hoping with all his might that no more would die. He knew that he could not hope for such a miracle, but he felt like he should at least try to wish. He couldn’t stand another loved one dying. It would kill him. It really would.

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The day of the funeral was overcast and cold. Harry wrapped his cloak around him tightly and huddled closer to Ron and Hermione as they shivered into the dull afternoon.

They were surrounded by almost thirty other people. It was not a huge group by any means, but it still seemed crowded.
Harry recognized the sound of a sobbing Hagrid and he stood, walking over to the overwrought half-giant.

“’Arry!” Hagrid sniffled, opening his arms in a beckoning to the young wizard. Harry responded to the hug eagerly. He had really missed the giant. However, his lungs did not miss Hagrid as much as the man crushed the air out of them. He released Harry moments later and dabbed at his eyes with a towel-sized handkerchief. “Sorry, ‘Arry, I just can’t control myself,” Hagrid said as he sniffled again.

“It’s alright, Hagrid. It’s good to see you,” Harry replied, sitting next to his old friend. “As good as it can be, at least.” He looked up at where Mr. Weasley was preparing Tonks’ father to give a speech. The man looked horrible and his wife couldn’t stop sobbing. Harry felt another wave of guilt and pity.

“Oh, you don’t worry ‘bout me, ‘Arry,” Hagrid muttered through a swipe of his towel. “Ron and Hermione will be wantin’ ta sit with ya, I’m sure.”

Harry nodded and patted Hagrid on the back before returning to his seat next to Ron. The redhead reached over and squeezed Harry’s arm with a weak smile. The funeral was starting. The murmurs of soft chatter slowly died down as Arthur walked up to the pew and put a sonorous charm to his throat.

“Thank you all for coming to pay your respects to Nymphadora Tonks, a wonderful auror and an even more extraordinary person,” he said, pausing when Tonks’ mother let out a loud howl and buried her head in her hands. “Tonks was killed in a battle with Death Eaters, as you all know, and we will not forget the valiant and brave way in which she gave her life for us.”

There was some soft clapping and Hermione began to bawl again, burying her head into Ron’s chest.

Mr. Tonks walked up and took Arthur’s place, clearing his throat and preparing for his speech.

Harry toned it out. He didn’t want to hear any more.

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Harry and Ron were sitting out on the Burrow’s porch, watching silently as Hermione talked with Fleur Delacour and Ginny, both girls patting her sympathetically on the back.

Ron ran a tired hand through his hair and frowned. “Hermione’s right terrified now,” Ron said, staring at the brown-eyed girl as she smiled weakly back at him. He returned it just as half-heartedly. “She’s afraid, mate. And I am too.” His eyes met Harry’s.

“Me too…” Harry grumbled, picking up his pumpkin juice and swirling it around in the cup. Most of the guests had already left, not wanting to linger any more than they had to. Now only close friends and family remained, talking and crying to one another.

“I think we should leave tonight,” Ron said suddenly.

Harry turned to him, surprised. “What?”

”Look, if we don’t get this,” Ron looked around to make sure they weren’t overheard. “If we don’t get this horcrux search over with fast, this will just keep happening. I talked to Hermione and she agrees. We should leave without the others knowing. If we don’t tell them where we are, then they can’t try to help us.”

Harry looked back at Hermione and then to Mister and Mrs. Weasley. Ron had a point. If they didn’t know where they were, there was no risk of them trying to help them and… and getting hurt in the process.

“’Mione says her folks have a cabin out in Woodberry,” Ron continued, catching Harry’s attention once more. “Out by the mountains in the North. They only use it in the summer, so they won’t be out there.”

Harry nodded grimly and touched his scar reflexively. “Then we’ll go there,” he said.

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“I’m sick of sitting around!” Bellatrix Lestrange cried maniacally. “We should be serving the Dark Lord!” Her eyes widened at the mention of her master, but she was cut off by another voice.

”Don’t’ be foolish, Bellatrix,” Snape growled. “We are serving him. Going out attacking Order members was not commanded. He would be displeased-“

“Displeased?!” Bellatrix repeated, her hair twisting through the air as she spun around to face him. “He would be displeased if we killed members of that blasted Order? I don’t think so. Won’t you come with me, ‘Cissy?” she breathed, turning to her sister.

Narcissa shook her head. “I won’t leave Draco. He is still very upset.”

“Upset because of those people!” Lestrange retorted. “They’re the ones that attacked him! And they’re all in one place now. Don’t you want revenge?”

Narcissa did not dare say that this was not the reason Draco was out of sorts. It would be foolish to point a finger not at Potter, but at the Dark Lord himself, who had mercilessly tortured her son when they had found him, blaming him for Potter’s intrusion in Malfoy manor.

“And Potter will be there!” Bellatrix continued, “I would so like to hurt that boy a little.” Her face twisted into a wicked grin.

This time is was Lucius who spoke, turning from the fire to his sister-in-law. “You hurt Potter and then the Dark Lord will truly be furious with you, Bellatrix. Killing him is a death sentence.”

Bellatrix let out a wild laugh. “I don’t intend on killing him! I just want the little brat to feel some pain. Maybe I’ll just drive him mad! If the Boy-Who-Lived goes crazy, it will be all that more easy for our master to kill him!”

Severus and Lucius exchanged worried looks.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Snape spat. “He wants to take care of the boy himself. He won’t go easy on you just because you got cabin-fever, you foolish woman!”

“Don’t call me foolish, Snape!” Bellatrix roared, pulling out her twisted wand and glaring at him. “The Dark Lord will be thrilled with me if I bring the boy to him! And that’s what I will do!” She was ginning madly now and they other could only stare at her in a disgusted kind of shock.

“I know Crabbe, Nott, and Vincent will be happy to join me,” the deranged witch continued, gripping her wand tightly. “They want to see Potter defeated, unlike some of you.”
Lucius scowled and was about to retort when Bellatrix winked at him and disappeared.

“That bitch!” Lucius roared. “What the hell does she think she’s doing?! Your sister is a fool!” Narcissa sighed. She already knew her sister was crazy, but the Dark Lord would not be happy with this little stunt. She worried, offhandedly, for her sibling’s safety. It was likely that Voldemort would kill her this time.

“We must inform the Dark Lord,” Severus said, nodding to Lucius, who returned the action.

They swept out of the room quickly, grabbing their traveling cloaks and disapparating to Voldemort’s manor.

They knew that Voldemort was no more of a protector of Harry Potter than he was a happy man with pet bunnies; but they also knew that he had strictly ordered that no one lay a finger on the boy but him.

At least informing Voldemort would save Harry for now.

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It was almost pitch black now, the lights from the Burrow the only source of light as the trio made their way quietly across the lawn. They hadn’t said goodbye to everyone, even though they desperately wanted to.

Their packs were hanging over their shoulders as they began their trek away fro the Burrow. They couldn’t apparate there or they would be heard.

Suddenly, though, they had to do a double-take at their surroundings as they heard the crack of an apparition. Their confusion was quickly answered, however, as they heard another crack, and another, and another. Had members of the Order come back? Had something happened?

The three whirled around and felt their guts sink to their feet.
Hermione grabbed Harry’s arm and he whispered a guttural “No!” into the darkness. They dropped their packs to the ground and drew their wands. Having no place to hide on the open hilltop, Harry gave up the thought of running and shot a bright red stunning spell towards the nearest death eater. The spell lit up the air and there were streaks of light flying everywhere before the first stunned Death Eater even hit the ground.

The occupants of the house ran out into the yard and joined the fray. The sky was now almost as bright as day as spells flew every which way, and Harry felt his stomach churn as he heard the vicious laughter of Bellatrix Lestrange. Things couldn’t possibly get worse.

“Harry!”

Harry jumped aside just as a jet of green light flew past him and hit a window, shattering the glass. Fred ran up to him and pulled him to his feet. “Watch yourself!” he said with a grin, shooting a body bind spell at who appeared to be the elder Goyle. The man fell to the ground with a fat thump.

Bellatrix noticed the duo and started towards them, an animal look in her eye. “Potter!” she shrieked over the cries of the fight. Harry and friend shot two stunning spells at her, which she flicked away with a cackle. Mr. Weasley saw the two boys, corned by Bellatrix and trying vainly to drive her away.

He ran quickly to their aid, sending a hex at Bellatrix, who let out a shout of rage as her arm was cut. “You!” she snarled, turning to Arthur, who moved in front of Harry and his son. “Run!” he yelled back at them. They hesitated, but then darted away, running to aid their friends as they looked back at Mr. Weasley.

Bellatrix sent of a killing curse, but Arthur dodged it, surprisingly swift for his age. Without really thinking, Harry and Fred whirled back around and ran to help him. They couldn’t just leave him there. They sprinted across the yard and Arthur saw them out of the corner of his eye.

He took his eyes of Bellatrix for a moment and turned to yell at them. “NO! GO BACK!” he hollered, his eyes filled with a paternal protection.

Harry saw the spell before Mr. Weasley did. Bellatrix had taken the opportunity of Arthur’s distraction to send it at him. Slowly, Mr. Weasley’s eyes widened in realization and he turned as the streak of light hit him full in the face, knocking him back into the air as Harry and Fred screamed.

He hit the ground noiselessly and Bellatrix stared down at him with a malicious triumph.

Arthur Weasley was dead.

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WAAAAAA!!!!!

Watch out Bellabitch! Voldie’s gonna be mad at you! And so is Harry, I have a feeling. Beware, the next chapter is going to be extremely unpredictable. Something big’s gonna happen! (le gasp!)

I’M SORRY, ARTHUR!!!!!

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