Brooklyn and the Boy Who Lived

Grief and the Return of Family

When they had taken away Dumbledore's body, he pulled away from Katie who called to him, but Brooklyn ignored her, and everybody else, going right to a solitary area in the owlery, closing the door to it, and just sitting there, head bowed, tears continuing to fall, curling up and feeling so worthless, so weak.

Perhaps Demona was right this whole time, maybe I am no protector... Brooklyn thought dully to himself, hugging his knees close to his chest, burying his face in his arms.

The hours passed through the night as he continued to sit there, occasionally enduring the company of his owl, Wyvern, who sensed his distress, hoping to comfort him. He had been feeling hurt and worthless, ignoring the pleading cries of his friends trying to get him to come out. Brooklyn still held the fake locket in his hand, a painful reminder of everything Dumbledore, his brother and himself had gone through, only for Dumbledore to be murdered.

Phoenix song suddenly rang in his ears. Looking up with a tear stained face, Brooklyn saw Fawkes from outside, singing a mournful tune.

The majestic bird saw Brooklyn, flapping through the window, continuing it's lament, as he landed near the distressed gargoyle, still curled up like a lost hatchling.

Brooklyn felt numb and nearly running out of tears to cry, as Fawkes cooed sadly, rubbing against Brooklyn's side. He subconsciously petted the bird.

"Lo, Fawkes," he mumbled, throat sore from crying, cheeks feeling dry from the salty tears. The door creaked open gently, but Brooklyn couldn't look up, continuing to pet his only reminder to Dumbledore.

It was McGonagall. Brooklyn huffed softly, turning away from her.

"I don't want your pity, and I don't want to talk about it!" McGonagall bowed her head, understanding what Brooklyn was going through.

"Harry and I already talked, and you should know he misses you. We all do."

Brooklyn rolled his eyes. "Yeah, why should I care? Or him? I nearly killed my brother, and got your Headmaster killed!" He grunted. She folded her arms. "It was not your fault, Brooklyn, nor was it Harry's. We were all fooled."

Brooklyn didn't reply to this, continuing to stare blankly at the wall. It still didn't matter to him, being fooled by that no good traitor, Snape. Just thinking of the name made his heart wretch with anger.

"Also Brooklyn, I now as Headmistress request for you to attend the funeral. Dumbledore would want you to attend it. It would make him happy to see you among friends and not locked away in here." McGonagall said then in a forceful, along with some small sobs in her voice.

He gave more shuddering breaths, eventually coming to terms that she was right. He was being selfish, hiding like this. Letting lose a quiet sniffle, Brooklyn gingerly stood, nodding, then took a welcoming hug from his old friend. Fawkes sat on his shoulder, joining in with the hug, singing his lament for Dumbledore.

Eventually he and Fawkes came back to the Gryffindor Common Room. The Fat Lady was crying (Harry must've told her), the portrait door still open, and he climbed in where it was packed with students as he expected. Some of them stood when they saw Brooklyn come in with Dumbledore's Phoenix who hadn't left Brooklyn.

He silently moved among them, not speaking, until the gargoyle entered the boy's dormitories, where his friends were waiting.

Brooklyn stood there, looking down as the Golden Trio and Katie looked toward him in surprise. "Hey," he mumbled, and nearly lost his flow of air as Katie gave him a tight hug, Fawkes giving a squawk at the sudden movement, taking flight and landing on Harry's bed. Ron was pretty startled that Fawkes was still there.