Hidden Wings - Part II

The funeral

Minutes after the Death Eaters had disappeared, silence settled onto the grounds. The sky was filled with the smell of burned wood and dust. In the distance behind the mountains, the red sun slowly began to rise in the east, like a glowing ruby that bled into the grey sky.

Not a single person in Hogwarts had slept through the raid.
Hogwarts, their place of shelter, had been attacked.

And many things were about to change.

It only took minutes for the news of Albus Dumbledore's death to spread like wildfire. Hagrid immediately took care to carry the body to his hut and out of sight of the gawking students, cradling his former headmaster into his arms and weeping bitterly.

Somewhere out in the cold dawn, a phoenix was singing in a way no one had never heard before: a stricken lament of terrible beauty. The music touched everyone's heart and although it had no words, the music clearly spoke of Fawkes' grief.

Students started collecting in the courtyard to listen, many covered in dust and dirt. No one spoke, and no one cried.
It was shock that had taken hold of everyone, that had somehow stopped time. Because...it simply could not be true. That Albus Dumbledore was dead.

Professor Flitwick limped up to the side of Professor McGonagall, his face stricken with grief.
The Scottish witch had her face turned up toward the sky, her eyes fixed on the burning phoenix that rounded the courtyard from above, his brilliant red wings beating quietly.

How long they all stood there, listening to the song, no one knew, nor why it seemed to ease their pain a little to listen to the sound of Fawkes' mourning, but it felt like a long time later when the music stilled and silence settled once more over the castle.

Professor McGonagall squared her shoulders and pulled her wand out of her torn robes.
"Everyone", she said in a loud, but raspy voice, "return t' yer dorms."

The mass of students started moving as if everyone had been hypothesized. Glances of fear were exchanged and the mass of dusty black and ripped robes poured into the castle, the one place where they had thought they were safe.

Harry stepped towards Professor McGonagall, followed by Ron and Hermione, all of their faces scratched and covered in blood.

"Potter," Professor McGonagall said slowly, her face displaying her pain, "what happened? According to Hagrid ye were with Professor Dumbledore when he-when it happened. He says Professor Snape was involved in some-"

"Snape killed Dumbledore," said Harry. His voice had a dull tone, as if he couldn't quite believe it himself.

The older witch stared at him for a moment, then swayed alarmingly; Professor Flitwick, who seemed to have pulled himself together, quickly conjured a chair from thin air, which he pushed under Professor McGonagall.

"Severus Snape," repeated McGonagall faintly, falling into the chair. "We all wondered. . . but he trusted. . . always. . . Severus. . . ah can't believe it. . . "

"Snape was a highly accomplished Occlumens," said Professor Lupin, his voice uncharacteristically harsh as he stepped into the courtyard, followed by Tonks. "We always knew that. "
He flicked his wand, casting a silent spell to block their conversation from eavesdroppers.

"But Dumbledore swore he was on our side!" whispered Tonks. "I always thought Dumbledore must know something about Snape that we didn't. . . " .

"He always hinted that he had an ironclad reason for trustin' Sev- Snape," muttered Professor McGonagall with a pale face. "I mean. . . with Snape's history . . . of course people were bound t' wonder. . . but Albus told me explicitly that Snape's repentance was absolutely genuine. . . wouldn't hear a word against him!"