Avenging Fire

It was 1:00 am and three weeks after her brief visit to Hogwarts when Helena was awakened suddenly, startled by a loud, sudden noise from the living room. Sitting up in bed in the darkness she listened intently, reaching for the phone reflexively.

Silence.

After a few moments, she relaxed. If it was a burglar, she would hear him walking as the floor in the living room creaked when people walked across it. Perhaps the twins’ cat had knocked something over again. Their cat, Braxley, enjoyed waiting until night to cause mischief. Helena sighed, annoyed.

“Braxley! You better not have done what I think you’ve done!” she called as she swung her legs off the bed and into her slippers.

Helena crept down the hall and into the living room. She didn’t turn on the lights since her eyes were adjusted to the dark and if she turned them on, she’d be blind. Besides, she wanted to catch the little scoundrel in the act. Moonlight lit the living room enough to see but nothing appeared out of place and Braxley was nowhere to be seen. Maybe the noise had come from the outside, Helena thought as she walked over to the window.

A sharp blow hit Helena from the back and sent her flying into the armchair in front of the window. Shocked and disorientated, Helena flipped around in the chair and began to stand up. A fist punched her in the face that sent her flying back into the chair. Hot blood gushed out of her nose, down her face and onto her t-shirt.

“Muggle bitch!” a snarling male voice said.

“I hope you’ll be decent entertainment for us, love. You Muggles can be such fun.” A Scottish accented male voice chuckled.

Helena felt hands grab her ankles and yank her onto the floor, causing her head to be banged hard against a side table. Adrenaline released into her bloodstream and she began to fight and scream against the two shadowy figures looming over her. Booted feet began kicking her in the sides. She twisted away from the blows, gasping from the rib kicks. Helena rolled on her side and that was when a boot kicked her in the abdomen.

“That’s right, bitch, scream! No one will hear you. We’ve seen to that.” the first voice said.

Hands roughly grabbed her and stood her upright. She briefly saw a snarling, leering face before she was flung across the room and into the glass front of a curio cabinet. Glass shattered against her head and back and Helena slumped to the floor, the broken shards cutting into her scalp and back. She saw the two figures approach where she laid prone, one was unfastening his trousers. Helena jumped to her feet surging with adrenaline and stood in a defensive position. She swung her fist and made contact with a face when one of the figures got within range.

“Och, this one’s feisty, George! How grand!” the Scottish man laughed while the other cursed and held his jaw.

“You’re going to wish you hadn’t done that!” the first figure growled. “Don’t just stand there, you bloody idiot, help me subdue her!”

Both men grabbed Helena and flung her hard to the floor. The angle caused her head to hit the floor with her right eye socket forced to absorb the impact. Her right eyebrow area immediately began to swell and throb. One knelt behind her and flipped her on her back then pinned her arms over her head. Sometimes in a heightened state of arousal when the fight-or-flight response kicks in, a person’s mind can be sharpened to a razor’s edge and time seems to slow down. Helena’s mind began working furiously.

These two men were obviously wizards. No one other than wizards would use the word ‘Muggle’ in such a way. If they were wizards, then they could and probably would use magic against her. One was holding her arms above her head and pinned them against the floor. He was very strong and she knew she wouldn’t be able to wrench them out of his grasp. The other had resumed unbuckling his trousers.

Steffen and the other magical family members had taught the non-magic portion, particularly the women, how to defend themselves against a wizard attack. Obviously since they couldn’t do magic themselves, they would have to disarm the wizard of his wand, if at all possible. Steffen used to tell her, ‘Wizard or not, a good kick to the balls will instantly render any man helpless. Get his wand away from him and the playing field will be leveled. Be sure to break it too. No good just tossing it away whole when they can simply Accio it back to them.’

“Those mongrel children are dead. You as well.” the Scottish accented man slurred, breathing into her face. The odor of alcohol filled her nostrils.

“Hold ‘er down good, Clive. I don’t want the bitch to scratch. Now lovey, I’m going to tear that cunny of yours to pieces!”

The second figure crouched over her, reaching for her pajama bottoms. With another surge of adrenaline strength, Helena bucked her hips and kicked as hard as she could. Her heel slammed hard into the second man’s groin. Gasping and clutching himself, he slumped to the floor in a ball.

“Bitch!” he groaned. “Kill her!” he ordered the first man who had released her arms in surprise when he saw his companion crumple.

Helena sprang to her feet and kicked the Scottish wizard as hard as she could in his face as he attempted to point his wand at her. With a gurgle, he dropped his wand and clutched his broken nose. Helena grabbed the wand, snapped it in half, and threw it across the room into the shadows. The second man who had been kicked in the groin had recovered just enough to grasp his wand. He pointed it at Helena.

“AVADA KEDAVRA!”

A jet of green light flew from his wand and Helena threw herself onto the floor behind the Scot who had struggled partially to his feet. The wizards in the family also taught the non-magicals what they called ‘drop and roll,’ which meant that if any witch or wizard attempted to throw a hex, the best thing they could do is try to get out of the line of the hex’s fire. Most hexes usually traveled in a straight line but sometimes might fan out, so if they should ever find themselves the target of a hex, drop to the ground and roll to the side as fast as they could.

The curse, missing Helena, hit the Scottish man and he fell dead to the floor. In a state of shock, the second man didn’t react in time as Helena rushed him, kicking him in an uppercut to the chin. When the stunned man fell backwards, Helena grabbed up a decorative ceramic bust statue and brought it down on his head. The second man lay still, unconscious. She wrenched his wand from his hand, broke it, and threw it off to the side.

Helena ran to the kitchen, grabbing her handbag and dumping it across the kitchen table. She grabbed her car keys and ripped open the door that led to her garage. The attack had made her forget that her car was out being serviced.

“SHIT!” she screamed in frustration as she looked at the space where her car normally sat.

She stood in the garage, breathing hard and trying to think. Her only thought was that she had to get herself to Hogwarts to see if the children had been hurt, kidnapped, or worse. It wasn’t like she could pick up the phone and call them. She couldn’t even call the police. How could she explain that two wizards attacked her, one accidently killed another with a hex, and that she needed to get to an institute of magical learning without appearing stark raving mad? She’d be taken into custody and held for an involuntary psychological evaluation. She knew this for a fact as she herself sometimes took call as the psychologist who did such evaluations at hospitals and jails.

She stood in the garage, chest heaving as she thought what to do since her car was gone. She couldn’t run all the way to The Leaky Cauldron. Then her eyes flitted over to an object covered by a tarp. She had brought Steffen’s motorcycle over to her house when he died, to prevent her parents from getting rid of it. He had loved that motorcycle and she wanted to preserve it for his children. She learned how to ride it, and once a month if it wasn’t inclement weather, she started it and rode it around her suburb to prevent it from falling into decay from lack of use. She hoped it would start this time. She had been lax and it had been a couple months since she had started it.

She kicked off her slippers and yanked on a pair of Wellies that she kept out in the garage and pulled the full face helmet over her head. She opened her garage door, ripped off the tarp, and hopped on the motorcycle.

“Please, please, please, please!” she chanted as she flipped the key to the on position.

The headlight came on which meant the electrical system was functioning. She then pressed the ignition and twisted the throttle. The motorcycle’s engine worked as it tried to catch and turn over. She applied some choke and twisted the throttle again.

“Come on, you bastard, START!”

After a few moments, the motorcycle roared to life. An alarming sensation was spreading inside her cranium. It felt as though her head was in danger of exploding, as if there was energy building up inside her brain and pushing against her skull trying to get out. It didn’t feel like she was going to faint, but she assumed that was what the sensation was harbingering.

As she continued to hold the clutch in and twisting the throttle to prepare the motorcycle, she tried her best to breathe deeply and get the sensation under control. She couldn’t pass out, not now and certainly not on two wheels! She kept telling herself that she had to get to Hogwarts to check on the twins. She would deal with everything else once she determined they were safe. After a minute or so of deep breathing exercises, the sensation calmed a bit. It was still there but manageable.

Helena flipped up the kickstand and let off the clutch as she rolled it out of her garage and down the driveway.

Although the weather was still fairly warm during the day, a chill could be felt at night. Helena’s teeth chattered and her body shivered as she motored through the streets, clad only in her pajama bottoms, a t-shirt, and the Wellies she wore when working out in the yard. When on a motorcycle, the temperature always feels at least 10 or more degrees colder than what it actually is. She kept her mind focused on getting to the children and she hoped that she wouldn’t attract the attention of a police officer. Since it was the middle of the night, there was very little traffic and she made the trip to her destination quickly and turned onto Charing Cross Road towards The Leaky Cauldron.

As she approached where the inn should be, she pulled along side of it and took off the helmet, tossing it away. Still breathing heavy, she tried to hold still as best she could so that she could detect the tavern out of her peripheral vision. She began to panic a little when she noticed that it appeared dark and closed up. She dropped the kickstand, dismounted and sidestepped to the door and tried it.

Locked.

It closes at night?! she screamed in her mind. Perhaps there was some spell around it to prevent bums and vagrants from detecting the presence of an open tavern when they stumbled around on the streets at night.

Studying the surrounding buildings that could be seen straight on, she took a mental note of where the door was situated. This would be crucial because she would be coming at it straight on and therefore blind. She was going to try to break it down using the motorcycle so she could get to the courtyard in back. If she could make to Diagon Alley, she could create a disturbance to summon a wizard police officer.

She got back on the motorcycle and rode down a parallel street to turn around. The Triumph Tiger was not an especially large motorcycle but it was fair sized and hopefully big enough to break the door open. Looking hard at the buildings surrounding the now invisible tavern, she reestablished where the door should be. It was there, she just had to trust herself. If she hadn't been surging with adrenaline, she never would have dreamt of trying anything this impulsive, but this might be life or death.

“The twins. Check on the twins.” she breathed.

She took a deep breath and rolled heavy on the throttle and rocketed towards the invisible door of The Leaky Cauldron. It appeared as though she was heading towards solid walls and it took a lot of willpower to not veer away. Flinching and bracing for an impact, she crashed the motorcycle into where the door of the tavern should be.

The door must have been warded, but only lightly since it only had to keep non-magicals out. The impact of the motorcycle was sufficient to wrench the door loose off its hinges. They probably didn’t count on someone crashing into it with a motorized vehicle.

Helena and the motorcycle burst into the tavern two or three feet, then the inertia stopped and the injured motorcycle’s power was cut since it was now in a magical environment. The sudden halt and odd angle sent the motorcycle down and Helena jumped off to the side. She was just ready to run towards the back and into the courtyard when a bald old man came running down the stairs.

“MERLIN’S SAC! WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!” he bellowed as he flicked his wand and lit the interior of the pub. He stood and gaped at the damaged door and the dead Muggle motorcycle on the floor. He turned and saw Helena standing wild-eyed and panting. “WHO THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU?!” he demanded, leveling his wand at her.

“I need to get to Hogwarts. Immediately!” Helena said.

“You’re mad! I’m going to have you arrested!”

“THIS IS A MATTER OF LIFE AND DEATH! I NEED HELP AND I NEED TO GET TO HOGWARTS NOW! I’M MUGGLE AND I NEED TO KNOW IF I CAN USE THIS! PLEASE! SOMEBODY TRIED TO KILL ME TONIGHT AND THEY MIGHT BE AFTER MY NIECE AND NEPHEW!” Helena yelled and pointed to the fireplace while Tom stood and stared at her.

The bald man then noticed Helena’s state. She was bloodied and bruised and her blonde hair was a tangled, blood clumped mess. Her adrenaline was still pumping however so she felt no pain. He immediately lowered his wand and walked over to the fireplace. She was wanting to floo and by the look of her, she was deadly serious. This woman, although a Muggle, obviously knew what she was talking about.

“Yes, the magic is already in place. It doesn’t require extraneous spells on the part of the user; it just functions as any other service object. I will need to contact someone at Hogwarts before you floo. If there isn’t an open floo there, you won’t go very far at all.”

He might be an old curmudgeon, but this woman had been through something tonight and needed his help. Besides, he needed to get her out of here quickly before she attracted attention of both Magicals and Muggles.

Tom then lit the fireplace, bent down, threw in a pinch of powder in, and placed his face in the green flames. “Hogwarts” he said, and then, “Hello? Hello, is anyone there?”

Several minutes of nothing passed and Helena was about ready to make a break for the back of the tavern and into the courtyard when a voice finally answered.

“Yes?”

“This is Tom at The Leaky Cauldron. There is a woman here who is injured and says she needs to get to Hogwarts immediately and that some children may be in danger. Would you please allow the floo?”

The voice responded suspiciously after several agonizing seconds.

“The floo is open.”

Tom stood up from the fireplace and turned to Helena. “Now Miss….” Helena did not wait to hear what the man had to say. She ran over to the fireplace, grabbed some powder and pitched it in.

“Hogwarts!”

The flames turned green and she darted into them. Helena never flooed before. She just never got around to try it during the times she was in the wizarding world. This time however, she didn’t have a choice. As she dived into the fireplace, she was surrounded by green flames and felt a falling, spinning sensation that made her very dizzy and nauseated. Suddenly she was out of the flames and staggering out of a fireplace in a dark corridor of Hogwarts. She stopped spinning and staggering and tried to regain her balance and orientation. The expanding, pushing sensation inside her skull was returning with a vengeance.

She began to run, ignoring the pressure inside her brain. She didn’t know where she was in Hogwarts, but she thought she would run until she saw a familiar corridor that hopefully would lead to one of the houses or she encountered someone. She had not gotten more than a few steps when someone grabbed her from behind and restrained her. Helena began to scream and fight against her new assailant.

“Quiet! Are you mad?! What are you doing here?!” the voice hissed.

Helena continued to scream and fight, bucking wildly and beginning to wrench herself out of the man’s grasp. Rather than allow her to get away, the man threw Helena away from him so that she would stumble and fall down. When Helena hit the floor, the man reached down, flipped her over, and crouched over her. The tip of the wand was lit and pointed at her face. Helena lay panting and staring up into a pale face surrounded by raven hair. Professor Snape.

“Doctor Nyx?! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Snape demanded, his dark eyes flashing with anger. Helena was shaking uncontrollably and her lower jaw was spasming.

“Help me! Some wizards tried to kill me tonight and I think my niece and nephew are in danger.” she said through chattering teeth. The pressure sensation inside her head was increasing. It really did feel like her head was going to split open. She tried to breathe but could only draw gasps.

Snape then looked at her more closely and his eyes widened when he saw her injuries. He pulled her to her feet a little too roughly causing Helena to cry out.

“Come with me!”

Snape gripped her arm and began to walk quickly, pulling Helena along with him. He appeared angry but determined. Helena kept tripping and stumbling from his long gait and quick pace. She asked him to slow down a little so she could regain her footing. Snape ignored her and continued to pull her along. Presently they approached the gargoyle statue in front of the Headmaster’s office.

“Chocolate frogs.” Snape barked.

The gargoyle leapt to the side revealing the twisting stairwell. Snape pulled her onto it.

“We’re going up to the Headmaster’s before you awaken the entire castle.”

Snape led her into Dumbledore’s office. The old wizard was not in there, so Snape pushed her down into a chair. “Don’t move.” he warned. He walked over to the fireplace and pitched some powder into it. “Headmaster?”

“On my way, Severus.” Dumbledore said through the flames.

Unbeknownst to most, Dumbledore had an alarm in his quarters which notified him of a floo into Hogwarts. Normally flooing into Hogwarts wasn’t allowed for the safety of the students, but the Headmaster had the authority to open Hogwarts to the floo network in case of emergencies. Besides the Headmaster, Snape had also been given the same authorization.

Helena’s head was beginning to hurt very badly and it was starting to make her feel nauseated. She wondered if she had a concussion from her attack as she gripped the sides of her head with both her hands and tried to rock away the pain. If it got any worse, she might faint.

Stay conscious. You have to stay conscious, she told herself.

A few moments later Dumbledore stepped out of the fireplace and looked at Helena who was shaking all over and rocking in her chair. Snape was keeping his eyes on her intently.

“My dear woman, what has happened to you?” Dumbledore asked, highly alarmed and concerned over Helena’s bloodied and battered personage. He bent down and placed a comforting arm on her shoulder.

“I was attacked by two wizards who tried to rape and kill me. They also said that the twins were dead. Would someone go get Christopher and Alexandria so I can be sure they’re alright?”

Dumbledore glanced up at Snape and looked at him questioningly over the top of his glasses. Snape shook his head once to indicate he didn’t know the answer to Dumbledore’s unspoken question.

“Please would somebody go get them?! I want to make sure they’re alright! Please!” Helena asked with a raised voice.

“Please calm yourself, my dear. I can assure you that both children are safe. No one can break into Hogwarts, nor can anyone aparate here. If anyone attempts it, the castle sends up an alarm. Tell me, how did you get here?” Dumbledore asked.

Helena forced herself to remain in control so she could recount the story without crying or screaming.

“I went to The Leaky Cauldron. I intended to go through the courtyard and into Diagon Alley and then try to attract the attention of a wizard bobby, but I ended up crashing my motorcycle into the door when I didn’t see any lights coming from the windows. I wanted to make sure I got someone’s attention. I guess it was the innkeeper who contacted someone here and informed them that I was about to floo to Hogwarts and to allow it.”

“That was me, Headmaster” Snape said. “I was out walking the corridors when I heard the innkeeper. I granted permission.”

“How did you get away from them?” Dumbledore then asked, amazed that she, a non-magical, managed to escape two wizards.

The pressure inside Helena’s head was still forcefully pushing against the inside of her skull. It was getting worse. She felt tears begin to well up in her eyes, but pushed them away. She had to keep steady.

“It…luck. They were drunk. If they hadn’t have been…One had me pinned and I kicked the other one in the groin when he tried to rip my clothes off of me. He told the other one to kill me so I kicked that one in the face and broke his wand. Then the one who I had kicked in the groin threw a spell at me but I ducked behind the other man and the spell ended up hitting him. I think it killed him. I hit the first man in the head with a statue and knocked him unconscious then I broke his wand and ran. My car is being serviced so I drove my brother’s old motorcycle to inn.”

Snape’s eyes had narrowed. He and Dumbledore looked at one another knowingly.

“What?!” Helena asked, noticing the unspoken communication between the two wizards.

Dumbledore sighed heavily and paused for a lengthy amount of time before he spoke. Gravely, he began.

“My dear, what I’m about to tell you has rarely been heard by Muggle ears. There are certain members of the wizarding world who cannot abide Muggles and Muggle-born witches and wizards. Some choose to remain quiet concerning their bigotry for political reasons while others take more of an…active role in ousting Muggle-borns from our society. Often times they hunt and kill Muggles and Muggle-borns for sport as well. Mixed families are a particular target.”

“Yes. Death Eaters. I know all about them, Headmaster. Remember, my wizard brother and his wife was viciously murdered by those sociopaths.” Helena spat with venom at the cause of their deaths.

“Indeed.” Dumbledore said, thoughtfully. “Very well. I shall continue respecting that you are well versed in this most unfortunate and ugly fact of our world. After your brother and his wife were killed, many more murders of mixed families also occurred and with an alarming frequency. There are those of us, The Order of the Phoenix, who fight to stop these hate crimes and to restore peace within the wizarding world. At present, we even have a spy in place.” Dumbledore said, with a small clearing of his throat. Snape stiffened but said nothing. “When these raids of mixed families began to gain momentum, it was discovered that there was a list. This list contained names of several mixed families.”

“Like some kind of a ‘hit’ list?” Helena asked, horrified.

“Yes. That would be an appropriate name for it. Now, did your brother and other magical family members tell you of an extremely powerful and evil wizard who is on the loose in our world?”

“Again, yes, Headmaster. Voldemo….” Helena began. Dumbledore held up a hand suddenly.

“Please, my dear. Let’s not mention his name. This wizard and his group of followers, the Death Eaters, frequently hold revels. Degenerate, despicable parties where all manner of perversions and horrendous crimes are practiced. Often times, Muggles are kidnapped, brought to these revels and used for… entertainment.” Dumbledore swallowed as if trying to keep his revulsion at bay. “Our spy has managed to view this list of targets. I’m sorry to inform you that your brother and sister-in-law were on that list.”

Helena’s face began registering wrath and disgust. Her fists clenched. Here all this time her family had believed that Steffen and Mary’s death had been hate motivated but random, a simple case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. They figured that Steffen had just crossed paths with a Death Eater by accident. They never dreamed it had been a premeditated act.

No one had told them.

The pressure inside her head began to increase even more.

“More distressing, is that the names on this list include Muggles and children. My dear, your name and Alexandria and Christopher’s name are on that list as well. The attack tonight may have been related, but you mentioned the two men were drunk. It could be that the wizards were simply out for a good time and targeted you on a whim, perhaps to gain status and the favor of He Who Must Not Be Named. Usually these attacks are much more planned and methodical, however in recent months, there hasn’t been as many. Our spy has told us that the Dark Lord has periods where abandons the list. Most likely to keep us guessing.”

Helena’s countenance darkened severely. All of the tragedy her family experienced with the attack on her brother and sister-in-law, and the attack tonight leapt up in her mind and swarmed her thoughts all at once. Only sick monsters murder innocent children! Helena had been strong these nearly two years since her brother and sister-in-law’s murder. She had to be, for the children’s sake.

She had watched after Christopher and Alexandria as if they were her own. She had never allowed herself the luxury of completing the grieving process. Every day that she looked at Steffen and Mary’s children, she was reminded of how senseless their murders were. Her brother and sister-in-law’s life had been cut short, and for what? For a disgusting prejudice.

The children now were without their parents. Nothing would ever bring them back. And now…now she discovers that their murders were not some random act but had been meticulously premeditated?!

Add to that, she herself and her innocent niece and nephew had made their way onto this list?! What’s more, that this seemingly kindly old man had known about it?! For how long, exactly?! Was he or anyone else planning to tell her?! Or was he planning to sit idly by and watch as she and the children were picked off one by one?!

As a psychologist she was legally required to warn someone if one of her patients made a credible threat against them, so her outrage was considerable when she thought of how Dumbledore, the apparent head of a group dedicated to keeping people safe, didn’t find it necessary to inform her of the threat against her and the twins.

Something inside Helena snapped. She jumped up, so blindly angry that her head really did feel like it would explode.

“YOU MEAN TO TELL ME THAT YOU’VE HAD KNOWLEDGE OF THIS ALL ALONG AND SAID NOTHING, YOU CALLOUS OLD BASTARD?! WERE YOU PLANNING TO SIT BY AND WATCH US BE KILLED FOR THE SICK ENJOYMENT OF THOSE…THOSE…MURDERING SCUM?! ANSWER ME YOU DAMNED COWARD!” Helena screamed.

“Please, my dear, try to calm yourself. I assure you, we would have done everything in our power to prevent that.” Dumbledore stood and moved towards Helena, both hands in the air in supplication.

“WELL, YOU DONE A FINE JOB SO FAR! PEOPLE ARE DYING AND YOU JUST SIT WATCHING!? FUCK YOU! I’M TAKING THE TWINS AND GETTING THEM AS FAR AWAY FROM HERE AND YOU AS I CAN! WHERE ARE THEY?! I DEMAND YOU BRING THEM HERE THIS INSTANT!”

Helena was raving. She started towards the door. The pressure in her head was now blinding. Dumbledore reached out a hand and touched her arm.

“Please, Doctor! Helena!” He pleaded.

“GET YOUR GODDAMNED HANDS OFF OF ME!” Helena screamed as she whirled around and advanced on Dumbledore. Snape drew his wand and leveled it at Helena, prepared to protect the old wizard.

“HEX ME, YOU BASTARD! I DARE YOU!” she seethed at Snape.

Helena stood, shaking with fury at the two wizards. The strange sensation that had been building all night inside her head had reached a crescendo. It felt like an atomic bomb had detonated inside her brain. She felt her heart begin to race and her breathing became rapid and shallow.

Dumbledore and Snape stood staring at her, riveted. They were transfixed as they scanned the space immediately surrounding her head and body. Both their eyes widened suddenly and Snape stepped protectively in front of the old wizard.

It was then Helena suddenly saw the flames engulf her.

Oh god! He’s done it! Snape’s burning me alive! she thought.

Helena began to scream, writhe, and blindly stumble as she watched in horror as the flames grew thicker. Things in the room began to fly through the air and smash into walls. Dumbledore and Snape had to sink to the floor to avoid being hit by the flying objects. They crawled away from Helena to prevent being caught by the increasing flames.

“NO, SEVERUS! DO NOT EXTINGUISH THE FLAMES! WE DON’T KNOW WHAT EFFECT IT WILL HAVE ON HER!” Dumbledore shouted over the din of crashing objects and Helena’s terrorized screaming.

“SHE HAS TO BE INCAPACITATED, SIR! SHE’LL KILL US!”

Helena continued to scream in horror. Her clothes had burned away and her Wellies had melted off her feet. All she could see was fire. Dumbledore stood and shook off Snape’s hand on his shoulder as he tried to pull him back. Dumbledore approached the column of fire that encapsulated Helena. He had to raise his voice to try to shout over Helena’s screaming.

“HELENA! YOU MUST GET HOLD OF YOURSELF! PLEASE STOP SCREAMING AND BREATHE!”

Helena was beginning to lose consciousness. She thought she was dying. Strange that it wasn’t painful as she thought being burned alive would be. Her screams gave way to anguished sobbing as she sank down to the floor, feeling consciousness slip away.

“I’m so sorry.” she whispered for her niece and nephew as she collapsed on the floor.


Darkness.