The War | The Sister Book #4 | Harry Potter Fanfiction

Chapter Four

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I glance over at Harry, and then back at the large white tent overflowing with light that sits just ahead of us. Biting my lip, I nod for us to walk forward, and we wander down the walkway, passed a few Aurors who watch the sky intently, the sound of cheerful music filling our ears. We step into the light, and I smile, seeing Fluer and Bill dancing at the centre of a crowd of family and friends, staring into each other's eyes lovingly.

Draco used to look at you like that.

I look away, turning my attention to a collection of full champagne glasses. Molly would be disappointed in me, but I honestly don't care. I walk over, and just as I pick one up, Fred snatches it from me.

"Naughty," He scolds, taking a sip and winking at me.

I scowl, walking away from him and pushing through the crowd, excuse me sir, pardon me, if I could just get- An elbow hits me in the side and I wince, pushing passed without giving them a chance to apologise. Finally, I step free of the clapping crowd, scratching the back of my neck and sighing a breath.

I spot Harry sitting down at an almost entirely empty table with an elderly man who seems to be inspecting a glass of white wine. I walk over, and Harry looks up, motioning for me to join them. An older woman with purple-tinged grey hair sits on the table next to theirs, joining in on their conversation. I pull up a chair on her table closest to Harry and smoothen my skirt.

"Good evening," I say sweetly, and the man looks up,

"Ah, Miss Potter," He says happily, smiling at the woman as if he's meeting a celebrity, "My my, your survival does seem to be a talking point, doesn't it dear?"

"As is the death of Dumbledore," The woman says, and I look down, clearing my throat,

"Yes," I manage, "It does."

Harry seems to notice me struggling and turns to the man, "I found what you wrote in the Daily Prophet really moving, you obviously knew Dumbledore well."

Though I wish he had changed the subject completely, I can tell he's scrounging for information.

"Well, I certainly knew him the longest..." The man says, his eyes focussed on the flood at the hem of my dress, though he seems to be in an entirely different place, "That is if you don't count his brother Aberforth, and somehow people never seem to count Aberforth." His eyes break away and he looks up at Harry.

Though I never met Aberforth, I knew he existed. I heard his name once, as a child. Found something written about him somewhere. I can't remember where only that I didn't hear it from Albus himself. He didn't tell me everything. Perhaps he didn't have time.

"I didn't even know he had a brother," Harry says,

"Ah well, Dumbledore was always very private, even as a boy."

"Don't despair Elphias," The woman starts, and I look up from my hands, "I'm told he's been thoroughly un-riddled by Rita Skeeter, in eight-hundred pages, no less," She turns to me, nodding, "Word has it, that someone talked to her. Someone who knew the Dumbledore family well."

I think for a minute she's talking about me, but she turns back to Elphias. "Both you and I know who that is, Elphias."

He shakes his head, "A monstrous betrayal."

She purses her lips, returning her focus to her wine. Harry and I frown at each other, "Who are we talking about, exactly?"

"Bathilda Bagshot." She answers,

"Who?" Harry asks, and I frown at him. Even I know who she is.

"My god boy, she's only the most celebrated magical historian of the last century." I glance at Harry, "She was a close to the Dumbledore's as anyone."

If I hear that name again I might implode. He's gone. I get it, okay? He's gone and I'll never see him again and I didn't know everything and-

"Oh, I'm sure Rita Skeeter though it well worth a trip to Godric's Hollow to take a peek into that old birds rattled cage."

The fabric on my dress seems so textured. I hate this. I hate hearing about him. Godric's Hollow is where my parent's died.

"Godric's Hollow? Bathilda Bagshot lives in Godric's Hollow?"

For God's sake Harry can't you just leave it?

"That's where she first met Dumbledore."

I look up, no he didn't, surely-

"You don't mean to say he lived there too?"

The woman sighs, "His family moved there after his father killed those three muggles, it was quite the scandal-"

I only realise I left the table when her voice fades out of earshot and I let out the breath I didn't realise I'd been holding. I wipe my palms on my dress, looking back up at the dancing crowd. Harry appears at my side,

"Are you alright?"

I nod slowly, glancing at him. I frown, seeing something off in the sky. At first, I think it's just an extremely bright star, and I nod towards it. Harry frowns too, and we see it's growing closer. My hand slips down into my pocket and finds my wand.

The ball of light crashes through the fabric and into the centre of the tent. Harry and I push forward. A voice fills the air, echoing and strange. Augmented.

"The ministry has fallen. The Minister for Magic, is dead."

The voice changes, my eyes flying to Harry's, fear curling in my core like a snake, hissing and cold.

"They are coming, they are coming-"

The light suddenly drops away and the crowd starts dispersing. I can see Molly directing people towards the house, others are apparating away, Bill and Fleur exchange one final embrace and then-

A spiral of black smoke flies in from behind us, then from the right, dousing lights and throwing spells as Death Eater's materialise around us. I start searching for Hermione, pulling Harry along as my eyes start to scan the faces, the metal masks, trying to see if he's here-

Hermione grabs my arm, pulling me to her and Ron. I snap out of my daze, seeing Harry stumbling towards us between the screams and bangs until he reaches us and we are snatched away with a loud crack.

xxx

Hellooooo

I've got so much homework it's ridiculous I'm so stressed

Hope you're having a good day

I value each and every one of you,

Taylor xxx