The Last Death Eater
By: JA_Japster
The war was over and Voldemort is dead, but his dark legacy lingers on. Though his legions of followers have been killed or captured, one loyal adherent to the dark creed lurks defiantly in the shadows. With one mysterious murder after the other terrorizing the magical community of London, it is up to two newly commissioned Aurors to put an end to the Death Eaters…once and for all.
Prologue
The Wall of Heroes
It was raining…
Some said it was the worst rain England had seen in years, a claim that few would dispute. It had started off earlier that day with the arrival of dark, billowing clouds that filled the sky, blocking out the sun's rays and bathing England in a thick, blanket of gloom. The rain was a bit more recent, only a few hours old now, but its arrival was equally as climatic, marked by the echoing clap of thunder as the torrential downpour descended down from the grim heavens.
A bolt of lightening forked across the sky, briefly illuminating the gathering on the world below. There was a large congregation that had formed in the cemetery in Godric's Hollow that evening; hundreds, no, perhaps thousands had arrived there in the rural village despite the dreary weather. The crowd was as varied as it was vast. The majority of them were humans, men and women of all ages and nationalities, but there were also elves, goblins, centaurs -even the huge, lumbering form of a giant could be seen amidst the curtains of pouring rain -were present. But what was identical amongst them, what never varied from any of those in attendance, was the somber expression of deep mourning on their faces.
They were all here, witches and wizards, goblins and house elves, anyone and everyone to whom magic held any relevance. They were all here that cold, rainy evening to show respect and honor, but more importantly for many, there for closure, for that conclusive finality to a dark, tragic chapter in history that only tonight could provide them.
For a while they talked amongst themselves, weeping silently, embracing each other in hopes of finding solace for their unique sadness in the company of their peers. A few brave individuals tried to recount stories of fonder times, and while some stopped to listen, no one smiled. No one laughed. And when one story finished, no one encouraged for another one to be told. The storyteller seldom made a second attempt, content instead to lapse into an abashed silence and let the cries of sadness overtake them.
Eventually they gathered into a large line that snaked across the village, wrapping itself around the Hollow's few houses, and stretching out the rusty gates into the countryside beyond. At the head of the line, barely in sight from those at the end, was a large, white marble wall that glowed brightly in the pouring rain. While few of the features could be seen from so far away, the words inscribed at the top were clearly visible. It was these words that shone the brightest in the gloom, pulsating as if embodied by a magic more powerful than that possessed by the rest of the wall. The words read:
Wall of Heroes
Harry Potter squinted his eyes as he read this, wishing for the millionth time that he had remembered to ask Hermione earlier that day on the correct incantation to conjure an umbrella. She would know of course; in fact, he knew she did since he could see her a few yards ahead, her bushy brown hair dry and protected under the umbrella she shared with Ron. He looked around him, but was hesitant to break the silence and ask someone for the incantation or if he could borrow an umbrella. It would be incredibly tactless. However, at the same time it was not like he enjoyed his clothes, a drenched black suit and tie for the occasion, being soaked to his skin.
Ginny was in front of him, but Harry did not want to disturb her as they walked slowly towards the marble wall. She had not bothered to conjure an umbrella either, though Harry doubted it was from not knowing how. Her red hair was matted against her skull, and her robes were as drenched as Harry's suit, but she seemed indifferent to the discomfort. In fact, it seemed as if many witches and wizards up and down the line had also elected not to conjure any sort of protection from the harsh elements. It was almost as if in their grief they had forgotten how to use magic. Or perhaps, they thought their discomfort was a way of showing respect to those who had suffered so much more than them.
With that thought in mind, Harry stopped looking for ways to escape from the rain. He and Ginny were near the middle of the line. In this occasion, even Harry's status as The Chosen One, or The Savior of England, as the Daily Prophet was now calling him, did not earn him preferential placement in line, something that suited Harry just fine. He had never liked the fame that came attached with his scar, and he was glad when no one tried to push him and his friends towards the front of the line. The grief of everyone here was equal to his own, and in some cases, even greater.
In front of him, Ginny sniffled, and Harry knew the water streaming from her eyes was not from the rain. Gently, he placed his hand on her shoulder. There was something about touching her that felt so right, that made him feel almost happy despite the pervasive sadness that gripped the small village. Ginny clenched his hand tightly, and Harry dared a smile as a magnificent warmth spread through his body. Suddenly, even the frigid cold from the rain did not seem so bad.
The line moved slowly, but surely, and a half hour later Harry was only ten feet away from the marble wall. From there, he could see everything on it. Covering every inch of the glowing wall were photos, and underneath each picture, was a name. Harry's stomach lurched as he read the names. There were far too many that he recognized.
Remus and Nymphadora Lupin
Two members of the Order of the Phoenix who had valiantly gave their lives protecting Hogwarts, placing the importance of Harry's mission over the future of their only child. Harry's godchild.
Alastor "Mad Eye" Mooney
The veteran Auror had died on a mission to whisk Harry away from the Dursley's. He had been killed
by Lord Voldemort himself. Privately, Harry thought that Mad Eye's only regret would be that he failed to kill but
one more Death Eater before being taken down.
There were many others that Harry recognized. Some only bore a slight familiarity, people's names that he had heard in passing, but others had a far greater impact on Harry.
Severus Snape
It was still strange to Harry to recall Snape's name without scowling or cursing. When it came to his old Potions and Defense against the Dark Arts teacher, Harry was still uncertain about his feelings. He had hated Snape for being evil, but he had never had the chance to get to know the brave, selfless side that had fallen in love with his mother all those years ago.
Sirius Black
Harry smiled as he read his god father's name. He was glad that Sirius had finally found peace, reunited in death with Harry's father and Lupin.
Fred Weasley
As they passed Fred's portrait, Ginny suddenly tensed and clenched Harry's hand in a tight vice. She moaned, tears flowing freely from her eyes as she gazed upon her brother's face.
"Fred!" someone yelled from up ahead. A red-haired man broke away from the line and ran towards the wall. He grabbed Fred's picture and tugged, but it could not be pried free. Regardless, he continued trying. "Fred! Come on, you dumb git! Get off that stupid wall! We have work to do!"
It was George, Fred's twin, brother, business partner, and best friend in the entire world. But this was not the George, Harry knew. George was always smiling, always cracking jokes even in the direst situations. When faced with death, he always had a smart remark on his lips, hell even after losing an ear during the flight from the Dursley's, George had been nothing but optimistic. Apparently, however, losing his twin, the person who meant more to him than anyone else in the world, was too much for him to take.
"Fred!" George screamed. "I've got some great ideas for next year's lineup! We'll have ulcer treats and, and, and -"
He gave one last tug at his brother's portrait, but the picture refused to budge. Defeated, George collapsed to his knees and began to sob hysterically. "Fred, come back! Please, come back to me! I can't do this without you! Please!"
Percy Weasley broke away from the line and kneeled beside his brother. He hugged George and began to weep too. It was Percy that had been the last to see Fred before he had been killed by a Death Eater, and Harry knew the older Weasley felt responsible for Fred's death. It was him, after all, that Fred had been joking with when he had gotten blindsided by a Death Eater's curse. No one would ever blame Percy, but that would hardly stop Percy from blaming himself.
"Make him come back!" George wailed, clenching the back of Percy's jacket in his fists. "Please, I'll do anything. I'll give my other ear! Just bring him back!"
Ginny was crying harder than ever, and Harry hugged her, trying to assuage a grief that Harry could not begin to understand. George had been a close friend, but the loss of something as personal as a brother was something Harry would never fathom. The young girl trembled in his arms, her sobs muffled in his chest, and Harry desired nothing more than to kiss her and tell her everything would be alright.
But it would be a lie. Voldemort was dead. Tomorrow would be a brighter day. But things would never be the same again.
There were more names further down. Albus Dumbledore, Charity Burbage, the Longbottoms….
Harry was pleased to see Dobby on it too. While not a wizard, the house elf, Dobby, was just as brave as any wizard or witch who had stood beside Harry. Near the end, Harry spotted one last set of names that made him smile.
Lilly and James Potter
He momentarily let go of Ginny and stepped forward towards the wall. Slowly, he traced the letters of his parent's names with his finger.
Mother and father, I have avenged you at least. May you finally rest in peace.
Harry returned to the line and draped his arm around Ginny's shoulder, supporting the crying girl as they walked away from the line. The rain was still falling heavily, and it would do no good to catch a cold. It would be best to get back home as soon as possible and change into some dry clothes.
He pulled out his wand and was about ready to apparate back to the burrow when something on the wall caught his attention.
At the very end of the wall was a golden plaque. Inscribed on it were these words:
The names of the heroes who fell fighting the Dark Lord
They gave their lives so that we may live
May their sacrifices never be forgotten.
--------
Author's Notes:
Just a short prologue to the rest of the story. I finished Book 7 and to be honest it was fantastic…right until the prologue which made me die a little bit in the inside. And it wasn't just because Ron marries Hermione (which I still think is absurd contrary to what my girlfriend thinks) but because it was written just plain terribly.
I had fun writing the beginning. I look forward to writing the rest. Let me know what you think and I should have the next chapter up pretty soon. Make sure to read and review! Thanks!