Emma Potter; Going to War

87: End of Year 6

All lessons were suspended,  all examinations postponed.Some students were hurried away from Hogwarts bytheir parents over the next couple of days — the Patil twins weregone before breakfast on the morning following Dumbledore'sdeath, and Zacharias Smith was escorted from the castle by hishaughty-looking father

Nicholas, on the other hand, refused point-blank to accompany his mother home; they had ashouting match in the entrance hall that was resolved when sheagreed that he could remain behind for the funeral.

 She had difficulty in finding a bed in Hogsmeade, Nicholas told me,for wizards and witches were pouring into the village, preparing topay their last respects to Dumbledore. 

Some excitement was caused among the younger students, whohad never seen it before, when a powder-blue carriage the size of ahouse, pulled by a dozen giant winged palominos, came soaring outof the sky in the late afternoon before the funeral and landed on the edge of the forest. 

I watched from a window as a gigantic andhandsome olive-skinned, black-haired woman descended the carriage steps and threw herself into the waiting Hagrid's arms. Meanwhile a delegation of Ministry officials, including the Minister ofMagic himself, was being accommodated within the castle. 

Harry and I were diligently avoiding contact with any of them; he was sure that,sooner or later, we would be asked again to account for Dumbledore's last excursion from Hogwarts. Me, Zoe, Nicholas, Ryan, Astoria and Draco were spending all of ourtime together. 

The beautiful weather seemed to mock us; I could imagine how it would have been if Dumbledore had notdied, and we had had this time together at the very end of theyear, Ginny's examinations finished, the pressure of homeworklifted . . . 

Me and Harry visited the hospital wing twice a day: Neville had been discharged, but Bill remained under Madam Pomfrey's care. His scarswere as bad as ever — in truth, he now bore a distinct resemblanceto Mad-Eye Moody, though thankfully with both eyes and legs —but in personality he seemed just the same as ever. All that appeared to have changed was that he now had a great liking for veryrare steaks. 

". . . so eet ees lucky 'e is marrying me," said Fleur happily,plumping up Bill's pillows, "because ze British overcook their meat,I 'ave always said this." 

"I suppose I'm just going to have to accept that he really is goingto marry her," sighed Ginny later that evening, as she, Harry, Ron,Hermione and I sat beside the open window of the library, looking out over the twilit grounds. 

"She's not that bad," said Harry. "Ugly, though," he addedhastily, as Ginny raised her eyebrows, and she let out a reluctantgiggle.

 "Well, I suppose if Mum can stand it, I can."

 "Anyone else we know died?" Ron asked me, I was perusing the Evening Prophet.Hermione winced at the forced toughness in his voice. 

"No," I said reprovingly, folding up the newspaper. "They're still looking for Snape but no sign . . ."

 "Of course there isn't," said Harry, who became angry every timethis subject cropped up. "They won't find Snape till they findVoldemort, and seeing as they've never managed to do that in allthis time . . ."

 "I'm going to go to bed," yawned Ginny. "I haven't been sleeping that well since . . . well . . . I could do with some sleep."

 She kissed Harry (Ron looked away pointedly), waved at the us, and departed for the Gryffindor Tower . The moment thedoor had closed behind her, Hermione leaned forward towardHarry with a most Hermione-ish look on her face.

 "Harry, I found something out this morning, in the library." '

"R.A.B.?"I said, sitting up straight. I did not feel the way I had so often felt before, excited, curious, burning to get to the bottom of a mystery; I simply knewthat the task of discovering the truth about the real Horcrux had tobe completed before he could move a little farther along the darkand winding path stretching ahead of us, the path that we and Dumbledore had set out upon together, and which we now knew we would have to journey alone.