Memories of the Heart || Harry Potter x Reader

Y6 ~ R.A.B

As Hagrid walked ahead, Y/N and Harry followed in silence, their hands still intertwined, though neither seemed fully aware of it. Harry's head was low, his steps heavy, while Y/N struggled to process the devastating words he'd uttered just moments ago—Dumbledore was dead. It didn't feel real. It couldn't be real.

The courtyard stretched before them, bathed in the eerie glow of torchlight, the cold stone beneath their feet feeling more lifeless than ever. The wind whispered through the trees, carrying the distant murmurs of students who had gathered near the base of the Astronomy Tower.

"What're they all lookin' at?" Hagrid muttered, confusion lacing his gruff voice as he trudged forward, Fang sticking close to Y/N's ankles, his tail low.

It was only when they neared the crowd that Y/N's breath caught in her throat. The air felt thick, suffocating, as her gaze finally lifted toward the tower.

Suspended above it, a ghastly green glow illuminated the night—the Dark Mark, its spectral skull leering down at them, snake coiling from its mouth like a mocking reminder of death.

"Oh no," Y/N whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbeat pounding in her ears.

Harry didn't respond. He simply walked forward, his grip on her hand loosening before slipping away entirely.

They moved through the sea of students, their hushed whispers pressing in from all sides. The crowd parted at the front, and suddenly, there was nothing but silence.

Then—

"No—no—oh, no!" Hagrid's anguished cry tore through the night, raw and shaking.

Y/N felt her body lock in place.

Sprawled at the foot of the Astronomy Tower, pale as the moon above, was Albus Dumbledore. His arms and legs lay at unnatural angles, as if gravity itself had abandoned him in his final moments. His half-moon glasses had slipped slightly down the bridge of his nose, his eyes closed as though he was simply resting.

But he wasn't.

Dumbledore was dead.

Y/N's hands trembled as they rose to cover her mouth. Her chest tightened painfully, and suddenly, it was as if all the air had been drained from the world.

Harry surged forward, collapsing to his knees beside the fallen headmaster. His entire body trembled, fingers gripping something tightly—something small, something important, though Y/N barely registered what it was.

Tears blurred her vision, streaking down her cheeks, warm against the cold night air. Her mind reeled. This wasn't happening. This wasn't real. She had been with him only minutes ago. If only she had run faster, gotten there sooner—

Who had done this?

Who had taken him from them?

Gasps rippled through the crowd as realization spread, the shock sinking in. Students clung to each other, hushed sobs breaking the stillness. Even the professors looked stricken—McGonagall, her face pale and set, Flitwick, his eyes glistening, and Slughorn, who looked as if he might collapse at any moment.

Harry's breaths came in sharp, broken gasps. He reached out with shaking hands, carefully adjusting Dumbledore's glasses, placing them gently back in position.

A fresh wave of pain crashed through Y/N's chest.

She stepped forward, dropping to her knees beside Harry. Wordlessly, she wrapped her arms around him as he buried his face in her shoulder, his tears hot against her skin. He clutched the front of her clothes, his whole body wracked with silent sobs, his pain too vast for words.