Harry never wanted to believe that things would get this bad.
He had heard stories about Voldemort's last ascension to power. He listened to those in the Order whisper about the dying, the despair, and the utter hopelessness they often felt. He remembered Moody showing him the picture of the old Order, and naming off everyone that had been brutally murdered or destroyed. Harry listened attentively and vaguely grasped the sense of tragedy that surrounded it all. He knew Voldemort had killed his parents, yes, and was responsible for Cedric and Sirius and the destruction of countless others. Some one had told him once that he couldn't ever know what it was truly like to live in those dark times, however, unless he had been there. You only know that kind of utter desperation and horror if you've lived through it yourself.
Harry used to feel angry at remarks like those. He had come into contact with Voldemort and his forces often enough, and he had stared into his horrid red eyes and cheated death. What did they know, anyway? He'd accomplished much more than many of the Order. Who were they to tell him what it felt like?
Looking back on it, Harry knew he had it all wrong. He didn't know, and he wished with every fiber of his being that he had never discovered for himself, or that the people closest to him had to.
All the wishing in the world could not change anything, he knew. Wishing can't bring back anyone from the dead, wishing won't make the pain go away. Harry wished he could make things okay again somehow, though they would never be fully right again.
Only a few weeks had passed since the night Hermione and Ron had broken up, though it had seemed much longer to Harry. The first week they couldn't even talk to each other, and Harry got so sick of the silence that he almost wished they'd bicker with each other again just so he wouldn't get wrapped up in his own thoughts for too long. He didn't want to dwell on his newfound feelings for Hermione. She was still hurting from Ron, though she seemed to make peace with it for the most part. Now was not the time for such things, however. As much as Harry hated it, he knew he had to let it go until the time was right.
Hermione started to work harder than ever on her already relentless research, but they all still felt they were getting nowhere. They hadn't had any contact with the Order for almost two months, and Harry was anxious for news, hoping they were making more progress somehow.
They stayed at a muggle inn one night during a bad storm, and they were horrified to find out even in that small village, the muggles were starting the realize something horribly wrong was going on. For all the muggles could tell, the people were just vanishing into thin air and dropping dead for no reason, and they were understandably growing very scared. Harry knew this meant Voldemort's power was very close to, if not already at, the level of his previous reign. His supporters were growing in number while they still had nothing else to go on.
Even though they were all able to lay down on their first real bed in months that night, none of them were able to sleep.
Another week came and went. Harry became so sick of not hearing any real news that he decided they should go visit Grimmauld Place. God knew they could do with a visit to the Weasleys and some of Molly's cooking. They wanted to feel normal again, if only for a few hours. Even Hermione couldn't find any energy to protest like she normally would, so it was decided.
As soon as Harry entered the dark and haunted interior of the house of Black, he immediately got the strangest sense of foreboding. His eyes first caught Moody at the table, his intense gaze focused on the map he held. He looked up and, spotted Harry, and frowned immediately. His eyes, both magical and normal, quickly glanced at the floor and gave Harry the impression that something was very, very wrong. Before he had time to ask any questions, Mrs. Weasley came bustling into the room.
"Is that Minerva already? I thought she wasn't coming until... oh!" she gasped, seeing the trio near the doorway. Usually she was very talkative and welcoming to them, but now she said nothing. She glanced at them all, as if surveying them, before walking over to Ron and hugging him fiercely.
"You're here," she stated simply, reassuring herself. "You're here. You're okay," she repeated, still not letting him go.
"I'm fine, mum, really," Ron wheezed back, barely able to breathe. "You can let go now."
"I've missed you, Ronnie. We've missed you all," she said shakily, letting him go. "I'm glad you came today, we can all have dinner together again. Ginny, Fred and George are upstairs, and your father and Bill and Charlie will be back soon. Oh, it will be wonderful to have us together again for a change," she paused, then gave Ron one more bone-crushing hug. "I love you very much. You know that, don't you?"
"Yes, mum," Ron answered back shakily.
Harry glanced over at Hermione, who looked as if she might cry. Surprised, he took her hand and said her name quietly to attract her attention. She looked back at him, then at Mrs. Weasley and Ron with a look of complete sadness, and then he realized what was wrong.
She missed her parents. She hadn't talked to them since before Bill and Fleur's wedding. They had a nasty row when Hermione tried to tell them about the quest she was going to embark on. Despite their lack of knowledge about the magical world, they weren't stupid. They knew how serious the whole thing was, and what Hermione was asking them to do. They didn't want to give their only daughter permission to gamble with death for a world they barely even knew, but Hermione stood firm because she knew what must be done.
They had never fully approved of her leaving, and because of security reasons Hermione had not talked to them since.
All Harry could do was hold her hand and reassure her. "You'll see them again, I promise," he whispered, and she nodded and gave him a grateful smile. Harry decided that he could ask Moody what was wrong later... it could wait for now.
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For the first time Harry could remember, dinner with the Weasleys and Moody was a very quiet affair. Ginny still couldn't bring herself to talk to any of them, and even Fred and George seemed to have nothing to discuss. The air seemed to be full of tension, and Harry was starting to wish he hadn't come.
Hermione was the one to finally break the silence. "The roast is delicious, Mrs. Weasley. Is anyone else coming tonight? I wanted to have a word with Professor McGonagall if she stopped by," she asked casually.
"Oh, Minerva is coming by sometime tonight, dear. Fleur is off with her family for a few days, the poor girl hasn't seen them in ages. I tried to get Tonks to stop by, but since he... oh. Uh, she didn't feel like coming," Mrs. Weasley finished off rather quickly, obviously hiding something.
"Since he... who's he? Since what?" Ron asked in between bites.
Mrs. Weasley just shook her head, trying to get them to drop the subject. Harry noticed that most of the Weasleys seemed to be avoiding his eyes.
"Mrs. Weasley... where is Professor Lupin?" Hermione asked quietly.
"He... he's... oh, I can't..."
"They need to know, Molly. They need to know," Moody interrupted Mrs. Weasley. "Remus Lupin... was on an Order mission three weeks ago. We found out through a reliable source that he was discovered by death eaters, who outnumbered and killed him."
Hermione gasped, placing her face in her hands. Ron choked on his food and glanced disbelievingly at Moody. Harry just sat there, his face emotionless.
Lupin... was dead. Dead and gone, like Sirius.
"I'm sorry, Harry, I know how much you cared for him. I'll spare you the details, but I'll tell you that he didn't go quietly. He put up one hell of a fight, Remus did."
Harry barely felt Hermione grasp his hand under the table, clutching it with such strength his fingers grew numb.
Lupin... after Sirius, he had been the last connection to his parents. He had helped him so much... and he was gone forever. Pettigrew, the fucking traitor, was the only one left. His father... Sirius... Lupin... all gone, and all because of one man... if you could consider Voldemort human anymore, anyway.
It wasn't right, it wasn't right at all, and Harry suddenly felt deeply sick.
He stared at the floor and was vaguely aware of the Weasleys offering their condolences as they left the table. When he finally looked up, he saw Ginny standing above him.
"There's a little memorial for him out in the garden. It's not much, but... I thought you'd like to see it," she offered, holding out her hand.
"Uh, yeah," he answered, getting out of his seat and brushing her hand away. He didn't see the way her face screwed up in anger at his dismissal, but he heard her exasperated sigh as she led them all out back. Hermione had let go of his other hand right when Ginny had addressed him, and Harry had a strong urge to hold her hand again.
Harry vaguely remembered someone mentioning this place had a garden when they first came in fifth year, but he had never seen it. It was not very impressive, most of the grass was dead and weeds and wild plants adorned the landscape. Harry knew it must have been magically enlarged at some point, though probably used for something other than gardening because the Blacks definitely were not that type of family. Ginny led them to a large tree, where Harry spotted several medium-sized stones underneath. One had Sirius' name on it, and the one next to it had Lupin's and several fresh flowers had been placed next to it.
"I know it's not much," Ginny remarked as they stopped in front of the markers. "None of us new Lupin's birthday, so we just left his name. When all this is over we'll give them headstones and a proper funeral."
"How did you get him back?" Hermione asked.
Ginny sighed sadly. "They didn't find his body. They destroyed him," she said bitterly, and Harry grimaced. Maybe she was finally getting an idea of what they were up against.
Hermione sighed. "How is Tonks holding up?"
"Very upset. Mum can't even get her to come for dinner anymore."
"Well, I would imagine this place has a lot of memories that would be too painful for her right now. She must be devastated. I can only imagine.." Hermione's voice drifted off.
"Well, at least he gave them a good fight, like Moody said," Ron added, his gaze focused on the stone. "He... he'll be remembered. A great man, Lupin."
"He ended it on his own terms," Hermione whispered, and Harry wondered what she was thinking, but his wandering thoughts were brought back to the present by a barely stifled sob from Ginny, who then promptly turned away and ran into the house.
He knew it was only a matter of time before it hit close to home... but he still couldn't grasp the fact that Lupin was gone. He felt Hermione take his hand again, and saw that she was holding Ron's as well and trying very hard not to cry.
They stood in silence for a while in front of the makeshift grave, trying once again in vain to understand death.
The wind blew gently, and Harry wondered if Lupin could somehow be there right now. It then blew harder, ruffling Harry's clothes and brushing Hermione's hair against his face, and it was then Harry felt he was.
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Later that night, Hermione suggested that he go talk to Ginny. She had been in her room since she left the garden, and seemed to be quite upset.
Even though Harry felt like he'd rather converse with Kreacher, he agreed. Maybe now would be a good time to get it all in the open. It wasn't right to give her false hopes anymore, he knew.
He knocked on her door several times before receiving an answer.
"Go away," she snapped.
"Ginny... it's me. I want... I want to talk to you."
He could hear her snort through the doorway. "Oh, now you want to talk. Found time for me in your busy schedule, have you?"
Harry rolled his eyes. This was going to be harder than he thought. "Come on, Ginny. Just open the door, I'm not here to argue with you."
He heard her release the lock and she opened the door slowly before letting him in. She sat down on one of the beds, and he sat down across from her.
"Well... go on, then," Ginny said bitterly, her arms crossed in front of her chest.
Harry sighed. "I just wanted to say that... I'm sorry for how things ended. I didn't mean to hurt you, and I know I should have talked to you last time I was here. You have every right to be furious with me," he paused, and Ginny was shooting him a very icy glare.
"Oh, really?" She said acidly.
"Look, I didn't come here to argue with you. I just wanted to apologize, is all. I know it seems unfair that Ron and Hermione came with me after all that rubbish I said to you."
"Then why did they come?" Ginny asked, her tone still very angry.
Harry ran his hand through his messy hair, sighing again. "Look, I care about you very much, Ginny, I do... it's just... ugh. You wouldn't understand if I told you."
"Try me," she spat.
Harry decided that there was no way getting around this. It had to come eventually. "It's just... Ron and Hermine have always been there, you know. I didn't want them to come, but they insisted and... I let them. I needed them, and they were fully aware of what they were getting into. I'm sorry I can't tell you what we're doing, but it's dangerous and complicated and... I just didn't want you getting involved in something you weren't ready for."
"I'm strong, Harry. You know that. I could have helped. I can still help you, if you'd just...."
"No," Harry interrupted her. "I know you can be very good at charms and other things but... this thing involves so much more than that. Good bat-bogey hexes aren't going to get you anywhere in this, Ginny. You're not ready."
"I'm only a year younger than you. What makes me so different? Yes, Hermione's brainy and Ron... well, he's a good friend, I'm sure... but Harry... I'm your bloody girlfriend. I'm supposed to be the one closest to you. I'm your equal, I'm your other half, and I'm supposed to be with you no matter what. Are you just going to let me wait here again? I'm so tired of waiting, Harry. I just want this to be over so we can be together, since you won't let us be now," she added with a hint of bitterness. Harry placed his head in his hands, and she moved over to his bed, wrapping her arms around him. He shrugged her off, standing up.
"Ginny... you don't understand, do you?"
"Understand what? That my boyfriend deserted me and won't even let me touch him? That..."
"I'M NOT YOUR BOYFRIEND ANYMORE!" Harry yelled, no longer able to restrain his frustration. "Or did you just block that whole conversation from your memory?"
Ginny's face began to grow a shade very similar to her hair as she stood up with him, eyes blazing. "Oh, I remember. You said we couldn't be together for now, but nothing about it being done for good. What's changed since then? For Merlin's sake, Harry, you brought it up at a BLOODY FUNERAL! You were very emotional, and obviously not thinking clearly! Was I really supposed to take you seriously?"
"Not thinking clearly? Honestly, Ginny, I think that conversation was the first time I had been thinking clearly for a very long time, and I still stand by my decision whether you like it or not. You're not going with us when we leave tomorrow, and we can't be together, do you understand?" Harry said, trying not to yell as much as he possibly could.
"But when this is all over, you'll get over this whole... this little phase you've gotten into and we will be together again, Harry James Potter," Ginny declared, sounding much like a mother scolding a child.
"NO! This isn't just a phase, and WE CAN'T BE TOGETHER! NOT NOW, NOT EVER!" Harry shouted.
Ginny was obviously startled, and she had to compose herself for a moment before she continued. "Can you give me a reason why? One good reason why we can't be together when you know this is meant to be."
"No, I don't know that it's meant to be. Look, I appreciate all you've done for me and our relationship was not worthless. It made me happy while it lasted, and it taught me a lot about myself."
"So you agree I make you happy. So why..."
"YOU STILL DON'T UNDERSTAND, DO YOU?"
Ginny stopped for a moment, apparently unable to come up with anything to say.
"Well?" Harry asked.
"There's someone else, isn't there? I bet it's Hermione, you've always been going on about how great she is and all those rumors in the papers and I thought it wasn't true, I thought you were too good for her anyway, I don't know what's so great about her that makes you boys like her so much, she's not pretty at all and she's such a..."
"There's nobody else right now, Ginny. We just can't work together, is all. THERE'S NOBODY ELSE, AND IT'S NOT JUST ABOUT THAT, OKAY?"
She screwed up her face and opened her mouth as if to retort, but her reply was interrupted by Mrs. Weasley flying into the room.
"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE? You'll wake up the whole house with your bickering, half of them are already outside the door. Harry, go back to your room. I don't want to hear another noise from this room again tonight, Ginevra, understood?"
"Yes, mum," she replied automatically, giving Harry a look of hatred as he turned around to leave the room.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Weasley, I didn't mean to disturb anyone," he apologized, suddenly feeling like a complete prat, fighting about something so stupid when so much bigger things were happening.
"It's fine, dear. Just go to bed," she sighed and closed the door behind him as they left. Mrs. Weasley bustled down the stairs, leaving Harry standing in the hall.
As he turned to go toward his room at Grimmauld Place, he noticed Hermione and Ron standing outside the doorway, both of whom appeared to have listened to every word of the argument.
"I'm sorry we listened in on you, mate, it's just the whole house could hear you and.... well, I got curious," Ron grinned. "Don't worry about Ginny, she's stubborn and she'll get over it eventually. We should leave early tomorrow, though, to be on the safe side."
"Yeah," Harry agreed, his mind still processing the event.
"Well, if we have an early start, we should get some sleep," Ron turned to go down the hallway, then glanced back at Harry and Hermione. "You two coming?"
"Yeah, I'll be up in a minute," Harry said, and Ron shrugged before turning away and leaving them.
Hermione had said nothing so far, and Harry wondered what she was thinking. Her expression was giving away nothing, though he could tell she hadn't been very pleased about what she heard.
"I'm sorry about being so loud, I didn't think she'd get that angry. It was a good idea to talk to her, though, hopefully now she'll leave me alone be for a while," he said.
"Well, she needed to hear it from you, though I expect she'll want to talk to you again, since she still doesn't understand why," Hermione stated, her voice edged with a trace of anger.
Harry paused. Why was she mad at him now, too? What did he say?
"So... nobody else?"
He was confused for a moment, and then it dawned on him. He had told Ginny that nobody else had factored into this. Ginny had said awful things about Hermione, and he had replied by telling her there was nobody else he wanted.
Nice one, Potter, he thought, mentally cringing. You really screwed this one up.
"I... oh. Hermione... that's not what I meant. I didn't mean you're nothing, I just... I didn't think there was anything between us right now, is all. It would have just made her angry, and she would tell Ron and it would..."
"It's okay," she interrupted him, her face still expressionless. "I understand."
She quickly swung around and walked down the hallway, unable to share a room with Ginny that night.
Harry stood there for several minutes, rooted to the spot and wondering how so many things could be going all to hell at once.
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He found it hard to sleep that night. While he was still very upset about Lupin's death and the events of that night, there was something else. Something just felt... not right. A queasy feeling starting to work its way up his stomach and then it hit him.
His scar.
The pain was intense, and Harry curled up and grimaced, feeling like he was going to pass out. While it wasn't the worst scar experience he'd ever had, the pain was still nearly blinding and Harry could tell whatever Voldemort was up to, he was definitely having some intense emotions at the moment. He didn't have time to think about it long, however, before he slipped into unconsciousness.
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It was still very dark outside when Harry woke, and he could see the light of the full moon shining through the tiny window. He rolled over and tried to go back to sleep when he heard loud whispers and heavy footsteps coming from outside his room. Curious, he sat up and rubbed his eyes, before quietly crossing the floor to the door.
"Are you sure it was them, Minerva? It could have been a neighbor, perhaps, just a random muggle attack." Mrs. Weasley's voice was barely audible in the hallway, and Harry had to put his ear right up to the door to hear them, though he could tell they stopped walking.
"No, Mrs. Weasley, I'm afraid it was them. Moody heard and went to investigate, and he confirmed it was their house, he's been there on guard duty before," Professor McGonagall's stern voice was more audible. "I really do feel awful, I was going to check up on them after I was done with that research... maybe if I had been there sooner..."
"Don't go blaming yourself, Minerva, it's not your fault. Besides, even if you had been there, you would have likely been outnumbered. There's just so many of them now," Mrs. Weasley sighed. "How are we going to tell her?"
"I do not like it any more than you do, but it has to be done. She has a right to know."
"Yes, yes, it's... oh, it's just hard. Those poor muggles, Arthur told me a lot about them and they seemed so very nice, it's such a shame they had to get involved in this. And to die like that."
"Everyone is involved now, whether we want them to be or not. You've read some of the muggle papers, I presume? It's happening all over again."
"Yes. Well... we really should tell her. I really hate to wake the poor thing with something... something like this," Mrs. Weasley stammered.
"Something like what?" Harry had opened the door and was now standing in the hallway with them. He was definitely very curious now, and couldn't take simply eavesdropping anymore.
Mrs. Weasley sighed. "Oh, sorry we woke you, dear. We'll take care of it, you can go back to sleep."
"I'm not tired. Tell who what?" Harry persisted, though he had a feeling he already knew the answer.
"It's fine, really, you can..."
"It's okay, Mrs. Weasley, let him come in case she doesn't want to be alone. Wake up Ron, too, I have a feeling she'll need you both," McGonagall said, and Harry could swear he saw a hint of compassion on her usually stoic face.
By now Harry was definitely growing a little scared, and he quickly went to wake Ron. In his earlier years, it was almost impossible to get Ron to wake up before he wanted to. After months of living on the run, however, he had to learn to get up at a moment's notice, so he was growing better at it.
Ron seemed to be very confused at being woken up and taken out to the hallway with his mother and McGonagall, and before he had time to ask them anything they started walking toward the spare room where Hermione was sleeping.
"What's going on?" Ron whispered to Harry.
"I don't know, I think it might involve Hermione and..."
"Is she okay?" Ron asked immediately, suddenly fully awake.
"I think she's fine, but..."
Before Harry had time to finish his sentence, they stopped suddenly outside Hermione's room. Mrs. Weasley and McGonagall were about to discuss who would be the one to break the news when the door creaked open. Startled, they all looked to see a head full of bushy hair appear in the doorway.
"Something is wrong, isn't it? I could hear you talking down the hallway, but I couldn't hear all of what you were saying... it isn't..." she cut herself off, afraid to voice the fear that she already knew was true.
Mrs. Weasley sighed. "I'm so sorry, Hermione... it's... it's your parents. The dark mark... they're.. they were found..."
But she did not have to finish her sentence for everyone to know what she meant. Ron let out a loud gasp, and Hermione's eyes grew wide before she dropped to the floor, unable to hold herself up any longer.
The dark mark was above her house, and her parents had been murdered.
Harry felt such a wave of nausea rise within him he thought he might be sick right that instant. Her friendship with him caused her to lose her parents... and on the same day he promised her she'd see them again. One of his worst fears was unfolding right before his eyes, and all he could do was put his face in his hands and fight back the scream of anger and horror that was building within him.
All because of him...
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Okay, so my one-shot is no longer a one-shot. I'll probably have one more chapter, then an epilogue sorta thing. No matter how long it takes, I will finish this, even if it's crap. W00t! Once again, this was not beta-ed because of my laziness, so all mistakes are my responsibility.
To any readers and reviewers: THANK YOU SO MUCH. I luff you all. **huggles**