Harry Potter and the Protectors of Hogwarts

xvii. of dealing with the aftermath

Severus stood in the furthest corner away from the rest of the crowd, scowling at the noise around them. Shacklebolt and Moody stood in the corner opposite him, refusing to take seats. A gaggle of redheads stood near the remains of the kitchen sink, all looking solemn and anxious in turns. Lupin looked lost, and the mongrel Black hadn't changed expressions since the incident occurred almost six hours ago.

Severus took a fleeting amount of satisfaction at the despair on the mutt's face before he looked away. The meeting had taken ages to get under way, they were still waiting for the arrival of Dumbledore, who had uncharacteristically taken his time getting everything organised when it came to the Golden Boy. Usually the old man was swifter when it came to reacting the dangers that befell Harry Potter.

Black hadn't spoken at all since Potter had been taken away. Lupin had taken to leading him around like the dog that he was, all that was missing was the leash. Molly Weasley was alternating shooting dark looks between Black who had cursed the boy and Moody who let him leave with his gormless friends.

Not all the members had been able to make the meeting at such short notice, having been assigned other tasks by the Headmaster, but at least all the important players were present.

Severus suppressed a frustrated sigh and stuck his hands into his robe's pockets, his hands clenching around two vials. In one pocket, he had a vial of essence of dittany and in the other had a vial of pain reliever. He'd grabbed both for Potter when he'd returned to his quarters briefly, but considering Potter was still AWOL they were useless. He scowled again as he thought of Longbottom and Weasley absconding so thoughtlessly with the boy. Didn't the brainless twits realise that Potter had a high temperature and was ill even before Sectumsempra had hit him? Of course they didn't, the dim-witted Gryffindors.

He straightened up as Dumbledore finally swept into the battered kitchen; Severus didn't miss the way his eyes roved over the wall Potter's missive was still written in the boy's own blood. No one had thought to vanish the writing from the wall yet.

These were dark times, and Dumbledore looked extremely grave as his disappointed gaze settled first on the lifeless Black and then on himself. Severus found he could not meet the man's wizened eyes.

The room had quietened down immediately as the occupants realised that the Headmaster had walked in.

There was no greeting, not a smile, not even a grim one to reassure them all. Dumbledore stood to his full height and peered into the silence. He was not pleased.

"Remus has given me a brief explanation of what has happened," the Headmaster spoke. "Yet I still find myself confused as to what precisely came to pass. I find myself confused as to how Harry, whom we were meant to protect, has come to be injured in our own safe house." This he aimed at Sirius Black, who still hadn't looked up.

No one had an answer. Most were still in the dark as to what actually happened. Severus, despite being there himself, still found it hard to believe how events had unfolded.

"Perhaps we should start from the beginning," Dumbledore pronounced, as now answer was forthcoming.

Still the room stayed silent.

"Molly, if you would care to start," Dumbledore prompted.

Molly Weasley, who been glaring at Moody, started as all attention strayed to her. At first, the woman was flustered, but quickly gathered herself together.