Funerals and Weddings

For disclaimer, summary, story codes and other information, please see the prologue.

Chapter the Twenty-second: Grief and Guilt
The next day
1 November

The uneasiness that Harry had felt when the Hallowe’en trip to Hogsmeade was abruptly cancelled didn’t leave him all day. The students had been fed a feeble tale about an rampaging Graphorn (a large magical creature with two dangerously sharp horns) believed to be in the area; not even the most naïve first-year would have believed it. He’d been tempted to confront Dumbledore (after all, the old man had promised not to keep information from Harry any more), but had abandoned the idea after overhearing McGonagall tell Professor Sprout that the Headmaster was away at the Ministry.

Still bothered by the feeling that something was wrong, Harry had gone to bed shortly after the traditional Hallowe’en Feast. When Harry awoke early Sunday morning, his feeling of foreboding was even stronger. He dressed and headed down to the common room to service his broomstick. He was clipping off the ragged ends when the portrait swung open to admit Minerva McGonagall. Harry’s stomach clutched. He knew it was bad news.

“Mr. Potter. The Headmaster would like to see you,” Professor McGonagall said, an unreadable expression on her face. “Will you come with me please?” Harry stood, and without a word, followed his Head of House to the gargoyle guarding Dumbledore’s office. “Candyfloss” was the password of the moment and Harry stood silently behind McGonagall on the moving stairs that deposited them at the office door. Harry followed the subdued Scot into Dumbledore’s office.

“Harry,” Dumbledore stood, then motioned to a chair. “Thank you for coming. Will you join me in a cup of tea? Minerva?” Deciding a cup of tea sounded good, Harry nodded. Dumbledore poured two cups, adding milk and sugar to Harry’s and lemon to McGonagall’s before handing them over. Harry sipped nervously, waiting for the white-bearded wizard to drop his bombshell. After swallowing some of his own tea, Dumbledore cleared his throat and began.

“Harry, I’m afraid I have some difficult news for you. There isn’t an easy way to say it, so I’ll come straight out with it. Your Aunt Petunia was killed last night.”

Harry didn’t know exactly what he had expected—just something bad—but something involving his aunt had never crossed his mind. He tensed, dreading the answer to the question that he had to ask.

“What happened?”

Dumbledore’s eyes flashed with what Harry took to be anger before his expression turned solemn once again. “There was a Death Eater attack at your home last night. Her body was discovered early this morning.”

“What about Vernon and Dudley? Are they dead as well?” Harry asked tonelessly.

“No. It seems they weren’t at home when the attack occurred; that is to say, no one has seen them and we are assuming they were not there. You wouldn’t happen to know where they might be?”

“No. I have no idea. We don’t…keep in touch.”

Dumbledore nodded. “As I thought. Hopefully they will turn up soon.”

Harry was puzzled. “If no one else was home, who…found her? You said she was discovered early this morning—who would have been looking for her early on a Sunday morning?”

Looking grim, McGonagall fielded the question. “Alastor Moody found her, Harry. The Order sent him…after we learned about the other attacks.”

Speaking gravely, Dumbledore picked up the story. “There were at least a dozen attacks last night. All against Muggles—Muggles with magical offspring. There are several students here at Hogwarts who lost their parents and siblings last night. The House Heads are informing them now. Professor McGonagall has already broken the news to Miss Victoria Frobisher and Mister Euan Abercrombie of your own house.”

Attacks on the families of Muggle-borns! Harry’s heart had stopped beating at hearing that, with his first thought being of Hermione. He couldn’t help but feel relief when her parents were not mentioned, even as he felt sorry for the two Gryffindors Dumbledore named.

“It’s distasteful, but you’ll know as soon as the The Daily Prophet arrives in any case, so I’ll go ahead and tell you. Harry, the attacks were vicious. I’ve not seen anything like it since Voldemort was at the height of his powers, back before he made the mistake of trying to kill you. The attacks were obviously well planned and it’s likely some were carried out simultaneously, in towns all over Britain. The Dark Mark was left over each house the Death Eaters attacked.”

“Is that how the Order found out about the attacks? Someone reporting a Dark Mark?” Harry asked.

“Yes, in part,” McGonagall answered. “The Ministry—and then immediately thereafter, the Order—started receiving reports of Dark Mark sightings just before midnight. The reports kept coming and in one case the report was of the Mark over a burning house in Manchester. Aurors and Ministry officials, as well as members of the Order, were dispatched right away. The investigation is still going on as we speak. With so many attacks and so many dead—and the brutality of the murders,” the usually unflappable professor paled and shuddered. “being so unspeakable—the investigation will likely go on for some time.”

Gathering his courage, Harry met the Headmaster’s gaze. “Tell me. I need to know. Tell me everything.”

Looking older than ever, Dumbledore nodded. “Unfortunately, you are right. I wish you weren’t. What we have learned so far is this: In a few instances, the Killing Curse was used—either alone or as the final blow. It is certain that all of the Unforgivables were used; the Cruciatus is a method of torture favoured by the Death Eaters.

“One man was found dead next to his wife who had been stabbed repeatedly; as the man was lying on top of the knife and his hands were bloody, it looks as though the Imperius Curse was used to make him kill her before he himself was killed.”

Harry grimaced at the twisted nature of the deaths. Dumbledore continued,

“At least one young girl was raped. Some of the bodies were sliced open, but because no weapons were found, a Dark spell was probably the cause. It was definitely Dark Magic that disemboweled one poor woman.”

“Disemboweled?” Harry asked in disbelief. “While she was still alive?”

The elderly wizard’s expression was grim. “Unfortunately, yes. And as Professor McGonagall mentioned, one house was set on fire and the family inside died in the flames.” The Headmaster sighed deeply. “So far the dead number sixteen, with five of those being children. I can only pray that the number does not increase.”

Harry swallowed. He didn’t want to ask, but he had to. “My aunt, Petunia…do you know how she…was killed? Did…did she suffer?”

Dumbledore smiled gently. “No, Harry, it doesn’t appear that she suffered. There were no marks on her—Moody believes it was the Killing Curse.”

Harry closed his eyes for a moment in relief. He hadn’t been close to his aunt, but she was his mother’s sister and she had raised him…the thought of her being tortured to death by Death Eaters was too horrible to contemplate. Harry opened his eyes as a thought struck him.

“My aunt…she was targeted, wasn’t she? Specifically, I mean. Voldemort wanted her dead because of me. Because she was my mother’s sister. Because it was her blood that has kept me protected for so long.” Guilt threatened to overwhelm him and he buried his face in his hands. “Voldemort killed her because of me.”

“I fear you are right Harry. I know the way Tom’s mind works all too well, and I am certain that he wanted badly to destroy that last link to your mother and to her love that protected you,” he paused, then spoke in a voice that would brook no disagreement. “Harry, look at me.”

When Harry raised his head, Dumbledore’s brilliantly blue eyes bored into his own emerald ones. “But you must not blame yourself, Harry. It is not your fault that Petunia died. It is not your fault that anyone died last night. The blame belongs to Voldemort and the Death Eaters. You did not cause this and you could not have stopped it. Do not take up guilt that is not yours to shoulder, Harry. It will not bring her back and if you allow it, it will eat at your soul. Grieve, Harry, but do not punish yourself for this tragedy.”

Blinking back the tears that had filled his eyes as the Headmaster spoke, Harry shook his head. “I wish it was that easy, sir. If my aunt hadn’t taken me in when my parents died, she would not have been murdered. How can I not feel guilty when I am reason she was targeted? You’re asking too much if you expect me to not to feel some guilt. But I will do the best I can. That’s all I can promise you.”

“I can ask nothing more than your best, my boy.” Dumbledore gave him another sad smile and rose to his feet. “Unfortunately, I have several more bereaved students to see now. Professor McGonagall, will you please see Harry back to his dorm and then instruct the other Heads to gather all of their students in the Great Hall? I need to break the news to the student body before they learn of it from the Prophet.”

“Of course,” she replied, rising and motioning Harry to the door.

“Harry,” Dumbledore addressed Harry once more as he as he moved to leave. “I am truly sorry for your loss.”

Harry nodded. “Thank you Headmaster.”

While they were walking back to Gryffindor tower, McGonagall said,

“The other students whose families have been directly affected have all been moved to one of the visitors’ lounges on the second floor, so they do not have to been present whilst the Headmaster speaks to the other students. You may join them if you wish, or you may stay in your dormitory.”

“I’ll stay in my dorm, Professor. I’d rather be alone for a bit,” Harry answered.

“Of course. To avoid questions, perhaps it would be best for you wait out of sight until all the students have gone to the Great Hall,” she suggested.

Harry was grateful for her forethought. “Thank you, Professor, that’s an excellent idea. I’ll just wait in the boys’ bath down the hall then.” As they neared the hallway where the bath was located and Harry turned to part ways with McGonagall, she laid a hand on his shoulder.

“Harry, I too, am very sorry for your loss. If I can help, you only have to ask,” she said, smiling sadly.

“Thank you,” Harry said, with a slight smile in return. He ducked inside the loo as McGonagall climbed the last flight of stairs to the Gryffindor Tower entrance.

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Harry was lying on his bed when he heard the other Gryffindors returning to the common room. Within moments, the door swung open, admitting his roommates, Hermione and Ginny. Hermione had obviously been crying and she immediately rushed to him and flung her arms around his neck.

“Oh, Harry, I’m so sorry. Are you all right?”

Harry patted her on the back. “I’m OK. Or I will be.” He pushed gently on her shoulders to move her back. “Hermione—your parents—I’m so glad they weren’t hurt.” He looked up at Dean. “And yours, Dean. When Dumbledore said the Muggles who were attacked had children here at Hogwarts, I was so scared that something had happened to my friends’ families. I…I feel horrible for everyone who lost their parents, but I’m so glad it wasn’t either of you.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, it makes me nervous. Dumbledore told us that all of our families are being notified and extra protection will be put into place for them all. But I’m still worried.”

Sitting on his bed across from Harry, Ron spoke up. “Have you seen the Prophet yet?” Harry shook his head. “It’s bad, Harry—really bad. Your aunt…she’s mentioned. I know you didn’t get on with any of them, but I’m sorry she was killed.” The others murmured their agreement.

“Thanks, Ron, everybody. You’re right—I’ve never been close to the Dursleys, but Aunt Petunia didn’t deserve to die that way. No one does.” Suddenly, Harry was angry. “Dammit! How was this allowed to happen? Don’t we have spies? Shouldn’t someone have heard something, suspected something? Is there no one who can stop them besides—” Harry stopped abruptly. He had almost said “besides me” but none of the others knew of the prophecy yet. He continued on, hoping no one had noticed. “…besides, well, maybe Dumbledore? What else did Dumbledore say? Anything?”

Hermione looked suspiciously at Harry, but only said, “He told of the attacks and who was affected. We had a moment of silence. Then he assured us that everything possible was being done to keep all of us and our families safe.”

Seamus added, “Then he finished and the post owls came in. The rest of the time, everyone just sat there, reading the Prophet. It’s sickening, it is, what the Death Eaters did to those poor Muggles.”

The others nodded in agreement. They talked a little while longer, then Dean, Seamus and Neville left to go down to the common room. As soon as the door shut behind them, Hermione turned to Harry.

“What aren’t you telling us, Harry?”

Harry fiddled with the barbell in his tongue for a moment, then sighed. He picked up his wand and cast locking and silencing charms for privacy. “Sit down. There’s something you should know.”

Looking at all of them, he said, “Remember the prophecy that Voldemort wanted from the Department of Mysteries last year? Well, the prophecy was about me—it said that I’m the one who has to kill Voldemort if anyone’s going to do it. Either that, or he has to kill me. At least one of us has to die.” That said, Harry told them the full story he had heard from Dumbledore last June, including the exact words of the prophecy.

When he was finished, they were all silent. Finally, in a quiet but certain voice, Ron said, “You’ll do it, Harry. You’ll kill the bastard. You’ll win and we’ll help you do it.”

Ginny nodded. “You can count on us Harry. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Harry was overwhelmed; his emotions were already in turmoil and at these words, he simply let the tears fall. “Th-thank you,” he choked out. Hermione opened her arms and Harry fell in to them gratefully. He buried his face in her shoulder and sobbed.

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A/N: I know this is another depressing chapter, but it had to happen. I haven’t forgotten about Draco—he’ll reappear in the next chapter, I promise! Also, Rowling says that Dean’s father was really a wizard but no one knows that, including Dean or his mother. He’s been raised by his Muggle step-father and his biological father is dead. But since everyone thinks Dean is Muggle-born, it makes sense to me that he and Harry would be worried that his family could have been attacked. This info is from www.hplexicon.com, with which I could not survive! Thanks for the reviews—y’all are awesome!

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