Forsaken

Disclaimer: All rights to HP belong to JK Rowling.


~~+~~+~~+~~


Chapter 2- Bits and Bobbles


Narcissa apparated back to the gates of the Manor. They hung limply from their hinges, blackened from where they had been blasted open. The Aurors had come. In a daze, she ran up the drive and through the open doors of her house. Kingsley Shacklebolt spotted her as she dashed through the foyer.



“Mrs. Malfoy!” shouted Kingsley, running after her. “MRS. MALFOY, STOP!”



Narcissa ignored him, focused on getting to Lucius’s study. Kingsley drew his wand and aimed a spell over her shoulder, purposely missing her. Narcissa ducked, spinning around and drawing her wand. Kingsley skidded to a stop.



“Do not tempt me,” she snarled. Kingsley held up his hands.



“Narcissa, calm down,” he said soothingly. “Just tell me where Draco is, and we’ll leave.”



Narcissa scoffed furiously at him, the tears running down her face. She turned and entered the study, searching the walls for what she needed. Kingsley ran in behind her, not wanted her to escape. He was completely unprepared for the long saber that Narcissa tossed to him. He caught the hilt in his right hand. He had no chance to move before Narcissa ran herself onto the blade.



“Narcissa!” cried Kingsley, grabbing her shoulders and lowering her gently to the floor. She gasped, her fingers fluttering over the part of the sword that protruded from her chest. She clutched the front of Kingsley’s robes. It was then he noticed all of the dried blood on her hands.



“Draco’s dead,” she wheezed. “He killed him. My baby’s dead. But Severus -“ A coughing fit over took her. Her eyes rolled back into her head.



“Narcissa!” hissed Kingsley. “Come on, stay with me. What about Snape? Where is he?” Narcissa’s eyes blinked rapidly as she caught her breath.



“He is a good man,” whispered Narcissa. “It’s my fault. I made him sw-sw-swear --” She gasped a couple more times before her body went limp, her head rolling to the side. Kingsley gently removed her hand from his robes, laying it on her stomach.



“Damn it, woman,” he muttered sadly, her last words washing over him. He stood up just as Gawain Robards rushed into the room.



“Oh bloody hell,” he exclaimed. “What the devil did she do to herself?”



“Draco’s dead,” said Kingsley simply. “Voldemort killed him.” Robards shuddered at the name.

“Dead?” repeated Robards. “How do you know -“



“She told me!” snapped Kingsley impatiently. Robards scoffed in disbelief.



“She could have lied, Shacklebolt,” smirked Robards. “Wouldn’t be the first -“



“Are you telling me that she killed herself because her son was ALIVE?” shouted Kingsley. “You’ve got to be joking! There is no possible way she would have run herself through if Draco was alive. The boy is dead.” He pushed past Robards, his cloak flaring out behind him.



“Where are you going, Shacklebolt?” yelled Robards commandingly. Kingsley slowed to a halt, running his tongue over his teeth. He slowly turned around, trying to give himself time to calm down and not blast Robards to kingdom come.



“I am going home,” said Kingsley tightly. “I have been working since early this morning. It’s well past two right now. We didn’t come here to arrest her.” He waved his hand at Narcissa. “We came here for the boy. He’s not here, nor will he be here in the future. Call in the Sweepers. Those kids’ll be thrilled to get a look inside this house, the little vultures.” Kingsley strode out of the room, his nerves fried.



“Shacklebolt!” yelled Robards. “Auror Shacklebolt!” Kingsley ignored him, pushing past the Junior Aurors standing in the hallway and walking out the front doors.



~~+~~+~~+~~



“Harry! Harry, wait a moment, please!”



Harry sighed as Professor Minerva McGonagall waved at him from the funeral site. He shrugged helplessly at Ron and Hermione, dreading yet another meeting with the Headmistress. He waited, his dread growing as the professor grabbed Remus, Moody, Kingsley, and Arthur Weasley.



“Harry, we’d like a word with you in my office before you go,” said Minerva. “Alone.” Harry looked from each stern and worried face to the next and decided he was terribly outnumbered.



“Lead the way, Professor,” said Harry miserably.



“That’s a good man,” said Minerva, patting him on the shoulder as she walked towards the castle.



“I’ll see you guys later,” said Harry quietly to Ron and Hermione. He caught a flash of red hair out of the corner of his eye and turned, meeting Ginny’s brown-eyed gaze. He felt as if everything had stopped moving. His previous decision to push her away suddenly appeared to be the stupidest thing he had ever done. He was allowing Voldemort to dictate his life. And that was ridiculous. He looked back at the Order members, who had continued walking towards the castle without him. He gave Ginny an apologetic glance and jogged to catch up.



The six of them walked silently up to the seventh floor. Harry could see each of them looking around every corner, ready to blast anything that moved. The spiral staircase was already open when they arrived.



“Up you go,” said Minerva, placing a hand on Harry’s back as he climbed the stairs. He walked through the open door, his mind reeling at the sight of it still looking as it did before Dumbledore died. Unbidden, his eyes immediately went to the portrait above the huge mahogany desk. The familiar figure was snoozing quietly in the painted armchair, his pair of gold-rimmed glasses hanging from a chain around his neck.



“Have a seat, Harry,” said Minerva, making her way behind the desk as the others simply stood around the room. Kingsley shut the office door and tapped it with his wand. Harry sat down hesitantly in front of the desk.



“What I’m about to tell you is strictly confidential,” said Minerva, startling Harry with her serious tone. “You are not to tell anyone what we discuss with you. Not even your boon companions. Are we clear?”



“Yes ma’am,” said Harry.



“Good,” she said lightly. She went to the black cabinet behind the desk. She opened it and pulled out a small box, setting it before him on the desk. “Albus left this for you. None of us have opened it, but he wanted you to have it before you left for the summer.”  Harry reached out and took the box, resting it in his lap. He brushed his fingers over the beautiful phoenix carved into the top of the wooden lid. He released the catches and opened it.



“It’s a pensieve,” he gasped. He lifted out the miniature bowl, decorated with tiny runes all along its sides. He carefully replaced it and pulled out the vials from the small compartments surrounding the pensieve. They were all filled with a silvery, vapor-like substance, and numbered from one to four. As he pulled each vial out, he noticed that one was labeled in a different script -- sharp and jagged, standing out against the others labeled in a curly, decorative hand.

“Why would he give Harry a pensieve?” asked Remus.



“Because there are things he needs to know,” said the portrait, causing everyone to jump. “Things I was unable to tell him before now that will help him understand.” Harry’s eyes filled with tears as he shut the box.



“Well, be that as it may,” said Minerva quickly, “Harry, I want you to know that every one in this room is here for you, should you need us. We are all members of the Phoenix Council, and served as Albus’s advisors. He would meet with us before holding Order meetings to discuss all Death Eater intelligence, as well as any strange occurrences that we deemed important. We all were marked with a blue phoenix on the back of our wand hands, which serves as a way of distinguishing us to each other.” She tapped her wand on the back of her right hand, illuminating her brand, along with everyone else’s in the room.



“Was he on this Council?” growled Harry, raising his vivid green eyes up to Albus’s portrait. Albus looked down on him sadly.



“Yes,” answered the painting. “Yes, he was.”



“And a damn sight better than this lot,” muttered another portrait from the corner.



“Phineas,” warned Albus.



“Don’t start with me, Dumbledore,” said Phineas threatening, pointing a long finger at Albus.



“You forced that boy into a corner that he did not want to be in! You have sent him to his death!”



“Not now, Phineas!” shouted Albus. The room stood in shocked silence until Minerva cleared her throat loudly.



“So what will you do now?” she asked Harry. He took a shaky breath, steadying himself.



“I have to go back to the Dursleys,” said Harry, “at least for a little while. After that -“ he glanced up at the portrait again, “-after that, I have things to do. Ron and Hermione want to come with me, but I don’t know -“



“I would rather they didn’t,” said Arthur sternly. “We were thinking about inducting them into the Order and having them stay at the Burrow. Bill and Fleur’s wedding will be in a few weeks, and we’ll need all the security we can get. And I know Molly would feel much better with them there.” Harry nodded, a slight thrill rushing through his body at finally being treated as a viable member of the Order.



“That’s a good idea,” said Harry. “I don’t want to have to be worrying about them. Ask Hermione if she’ll teach Ginny some of the sixth year defensive curses and hexes.” Kingsley grinned at Moody, but faltered a little at the wariness in the older man’s eyes. Harry stood up and put the pensieve box under his arm. “How do I contact you if I need you?”



“Patronus Messaging Charm would be best,” growled Moody. “Come here and I’ll show you.” It took Harry a few tries, but he learned the charm fairly quickly.



“We will give you the space you need,” said Minerva. “We will only come for you if you patronus us for help.” With a curt nod, Harry turned and walked out of the room, his cloak billowing out behind him.



~~+~~+~~+~~



“He’s going to go off and do something stupid. He’s got too much of his father in him.”



“Let him be. He just needs some time to think through some things. He’s old enough to know what he’s doing.”



“He is only a child, Alastor! He has no idea what he’s doing!”



“And Ron and Hermione won’t let him go off on his own. Molly and I can keep Ginny home, but those other two -“



“You can’t prevent them from making their own decisions. If they’ve decided that this is something they have to do, then they’re going to do it, regardless of how many times we tell them they’re too young. Harry’s had more experience than some of the Aurors in my sector.”



“Hell, we weren’t much older than they are when we all joined the Order. James, Lily, Sirius - we were seventh years when Dumbledore came to us and asked if we wanted to fight. We were stubborn, too. Thought we were invincible - that we could take down Voldemort with our bare hands.”



“Well, we’ll just have to hope he calls us if he gets into trouble.”



“I don’t think any of us have any hope left, Alastor. With Severus having betrayed us --”



“We need to find him, and soon. If we can get that snake into Azkaban, the kid’ll have a better chance of success. We need an address. Maybe there is something here that can help us?”



“I can show you where I keep all of the paperwork for Albus. Follow me.”



~~+~~+~~+~~



The train slowed on its approach to Platform 9-and-3/4. Harry quickly finished the note he was writing and folded it in half, putting Ginny’s name on the outside. He got up and quietly placed Hedwig’s cage in his seat, trying not to wake anyone up. He froze as Hermione moved slightly, wrapping her arm across Ron’s waist. Seeing that they weren’t waking, he placed the note in front of Hedwig’s cage.



“Be a good girl for Ginny,” whispered Harry, sticking his finger through the bars of her cage. “If she or any of the others get into trouble, come and find me, Hedwig.”



The owl affectionately nipped his finger, hooting quietly as he slowly pulled his trunk from beneath the seat. He bent over and placed a tender kiss on Ginny’s sleeping face. With one last look in the compartment, he made his way into the narrow hallway and out onto the platform, joining the short queue to go through the barrier to Kings Cross.