The Other Black Book 5

Chapter 35 - The Only One He Ever Feared

Aurora had suddenly gone numb. She didn't trust herself to speak, as if saying anything would let out another scream, or maybe tears, or maybe some curse. She was still, staring at the dais, slowly taking in the world around her as if she hadn't just witnessed...

"He hasn't gone!" Harry yelled, dealing with his grief in a much louder way than Aurora was. Aurora had only just noticed Lupin holding onto him. "SIRIUS!" Harry bellowed, "SIRIUS!"

"He can't come back, Harry," said Lupin, his voice breaking as he struggled to contain Harry. "He can't come back, because he's d —"

"HE — IS — NOT — DEAD!" roared Harry. "SIRIUS!"

There was movement going on around them, pointless bustling, the flashes of more spells. Aurora could only move limply, soundlessly, as though her lips were glued shut. Lupin dragged Harry away from the dais, Harry still staring at the archway.

The dog, which was almost always running in Aurora's dreams, would run no more.

Dumbledore had most of the remaining Death Eaters grouped in the middle of the room, seemingly immobilized by invisible ropes. Mad-Eye Moody had crawled across the room to where Tonks lay and was attempting to revive her. Behind the dais there were still flashes of light, grunts, and cries — Kingsley had run forward to continue Sirius's duel with Bellatrix.

"Harry?" Neville had slid down the stone benches one by one to the place where Harry stood. Harry was no longer struggling against Lupin, who maintained a precautionary grip on his arm nevertheless. "Harry . . . I'b really sorry. . . ." said Neville. His legs were still dancing uncontrollably. "Was dat man — was Sirius Black a — a friend of yours?"

Harry nodded.

Aurora sank to the stone bench, still unable to speak.

"Here," said Lupin quietly, and pointing his wand at Neville's legs he said, "Finite." The spell was lifted. Neville's legs fell back onto the floor and remained still. Lupin's face was pale. "Let's — let's find the others. Where are they all, Neville?"

Lupin turned away from the archway as he spoke. It sounded as though every word was causing him pain.

"Dey're all back dere," said Neville. "A brain addacked Ron bud I dink he's all righd — and Herbione's unconscious, bud we could feel a bulse —"

There was a loud bang and a yell from behind the dais. Aurora saw Kingsley, yelling in pain, hit the ground. Bellatrix Lestrange turned tail and ran as Dumbledore whipped around. He aimed a spell at her but she deflected it. She was halfway up the steps now —

"Harry — no!" cried Lupin, but Harry had already ripped his arm from Lupin's slackened grip.

"SHE KILLED SIRIUS!" bellowed Harry. "SHE KILLED HIM — I'LL KILL HER!"

And he was off, scrambling up the stone benches. People were shouting behind him, but he either did not hear, or did not listen, or both.

"He can't be dead," Aurora whispered into the quiet room. Her voice was scratched, and she was certain that her scream had shredded some part of her throat -- she coughed up a bit of blood after speaking.

"He can't be dead," she whispered again.

The room fell silent as Dumbledore then hurried after Harry. And Aurora's clenching feeling, which had started to listen, squeezed so horribly and so suddenly that she cried out in pain.

"He is here," she whispered, once again hardly able to speak. "Voldemort is here."

Once more, she knew for some unknowable reason... She had no reason to know this.

The Death Eater closest to where Aurora was standing looked up at her, his mask gone having been lost in the fight, and said, "You really are your mother's daughter." It was Janus Malfoy who spoke, looking up at her, as if for the first time. His face seemed devoid of its normal hatred.

"And it's thanks to you I'll never know her any better than I do now," Aurora said bitterly back. "You and your stupid trick."

She knew it wasn't Janus who killed Sirius, but she felt so bitter, she wanted to blame them all. They took her mother away from her. They took her Uncle Sirius away from her. What next, her Muggle parents? Harry? Hermione and Ron? The other Weasleys?

No, Aurora decided. No, she'd fight against Voldemort and his followers until the moment she drew her last breath. She'll fight, and she'll make sure they never take anyone she cares about away again. Never again, she promised. Never again.

There was silence in the room again, for quite some time, before Aurors filled the chamber. There was much noise and milling about as the Death Eaters, caught, attempted their own versions of events while the remaining Order members explained their side of things. In time, nearly a half-hour later, the Minister of Magic himself came in and after rounding up the six students from the room with the veil and the adjoining room with the brains, unceremoniously handed them a broken bit of tile, only letting go when all six had their hands on it, Aurora having had to force Ron's hand and hold onto Hermione's.

He was quite agitated. Aurora watched him talk to the Order members for as long as she could before the tile glowed blue, and she felt the familiar jerking sensation as the tile brought them into Hogwarts.

They were in the hospital wing. They were careful to keep Hermione, in her still-unconscious fate, from hitting the ground too hard. Madam Pomfrey jumped in surprise at the state of the students in front of her. Neville tried to communicate, but Luna did most of the talking.

Aurora was uninjured physically. She had not been knocked unconscious, she didn't have a broken nose, she didn't have brain tentacles wrapped around her, she didn't have a broken ankle, but she did feel empty. She could barely answer Madam Pomfrey's questions with a Yes or a No, and had resolved to staring out the window at the pale green line that signified dawn approaching.

A new day was beginning for the entire world, save for one man. One man who had been innocent, imprisoned falsely in Azkaban for twelve years, driven half-mad because of it. One man who wanted nothing more than to provide a stable home to his orphaned godson. He would never see another dawn.

She hadn't noticed she was crying until she felt an arm around her.

"Was he a friend?" Luna asked, her voice hardly more than a whisper.

Aurora could only nod. "He was innocent," she managed to say, though her voice was choked with tears, and she only then noticed the wetness on her face and on her hand, clenched into a fist on the windowsill. "He didn't do it."

Dawn was orange now. It was bright enough it could no longer be called night, yet dark enough it was most certainly not day. The golden light spilled into the hospital wing, but Aurora could not find the strength to move. She still couldn't believe he was gone. She almost refused it. She was crying but she didn't feel sad. She didn't feel happy. Or angry. Or any other emotion that would've brought tears. Or, really, any emotion, for that matter. She just felt empty. Sick, empty, and tired.

She laid on an empty hospital bed. Madam Pomfrey, who was tending to Hermione, didn't look over. Maybe Luna had told her. Maybe Luna had said something. Aurora fell asleep, laying there, her dreams as blank and empty as her emotions, and despite everything she woke sometime around midday after the best sleep she'd had in months and thoroughly hated it.