The Unknown Witness

Chapter Thirteen: Deliverance

A day and a night of solid, undisturbed sleep, and they were prepared to face the world. The following morning, sombreness seemed to be the order of the day. They all ate in the great hall, McGonagall and Dumbledore being the only teachers left and so joining them at the Gryffindor table. Lucy had gasped at the sight of the ceiling, the dawn having broken across it in a great blaze of light that seemed to energise the air as it spread. She'd even made to grab for Claudia to point out the glorious wonder but stopped, a habit of a lifetime still not broken after fourteen years as instead she helped guide Claudia to her seat and her hash browns beyond. Breakfast was served.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were next to trudge into the meal, all half-asleep from their first complete rest for days. An owl had already been dispatched to the Granger household explaining their daughter's location and some attempt at circumstance. Hermione had the feeling that they were better off without the truth. Arabella and Remus followed shortly afterwards, the ex-Auror immediately enticing the Headmaster and his deputy into a lengthy conversation as to the current state of play. Hermione, however, after shakily pouring herself a glass of pumpkin juice, looked left and right then leaned over the table to congress quietly to Harry.

'Are you all right?' she said.

Harry stirred his Cornflakes absently. 'Yeah,' he muttered. 'Yeah I'm fine.'

Hermione did not look at all convinced. The colour was yet to return to her face despite the longest sleep any of them had ever encountered in their lives. No one was feeling refreshed, simply a little less bogged down by events but still crippled nevertheless. Ron sighed wearily and put down his spoon.

'Harry,' continued Hermione, 'you're allowed to not be all right. It's perfectly natural for you not to be all right. Actually, we were kind of expecting it.' She lowered her voice to a whisper, as if the truth was too harsh to speak. 'The other day happened to us all. I know I'm falling apart. Despite what Dumbledore says, I keep thinking of all the what ifs. What if things went differently, what could I have done to stop all this? Would it be one of us underneath that sheet or was Sirius' fate already set?' She shuddered in a breath. 'The thing is we'll never know. And as long as we don't know, we'll never be all right. So it's OK, Harry. It's us.'

Ron looked up solemnly too and Harry got the feeling this conversation was slightly planned.

'You don't have to do the invincible act,' Ron continued. 'We won't be expecting it. It'll be hard, but we'll get through it. I'm actually with Hagrid on this one. As long as we've got Dumbledore, I think we'll be alright.'

Harry smiled a little, the expression feeling strange upon his grieving face. He knew Sirius would have liked to see it.

The conversation continued in mediocre tones, a little strained in order to gain a vague attempt at normality. Quidditch prospects in the upcoming year. The looming threat of the OWLs. Hermione's extra credit homework assignments. These usual topics of conversation were spoken with as much effort as they could muster, anything to avoid the memory of the body that lay up in the infirmary. In the end it just became an exercise in pushing their food around the plates. Nothing could be consumed. Nothing except the guilt. But even that was put briefly on the back burner via a passing comment by Ron, who was looking around the room absently and the house tables in particular.

'It's strange being here in the summer,' he said, his spoon still failing to be risen to his mouth. However, the level of Cornflakes in his bowl remained constant. 'No one else around. No Ravenclaws squabbling over their homework or Hufflepuffs drowning their sorrows after we totally wiped the floor with them at Quidditch. No Fred and George attempting to blow up a toilet seat or something. It even seems odd without Malfoy trying to get us all in....'

He stopped mid sentence as the most urgent topic of discussion was inadvertently breached. He drew in a sharp breath as Harry and Hermione exchanged glances, and they all proceeded to dive in headfirst.

'Malfoy...' said Ron, extracting his friend's thoughts and putting them into words as he raised his eyebrows skyward. 'Now what was all that about?'

Hermione frowned herself. 'I'm not entirely sure if it was even him...'

'It was,' said Harry sternly to address his companion's doubt. 'I saw him with my own two eyes. I'd recognise that smirk anywhere.'

'But what was he trying to do?' squeaked Hermione a little unusually. 'What was he hoping to accomplish by helping us? I really can't see what's in it for him. It's going against everything he believes in, everything he's probably been raised by... Oh why didn't Moody leave him as a ferret? It would have made life a whole lot simpler...'

'Hermione!' exclaimed Ron, looking a little shocked. 'You're beginning to sound like me!'

'Now I'm getting worried...' chipped in Harry.

'Times change, Ron,' she snapped, 'but that doesn't alter the issue. Either Draco's suddenly turned double agent or he's getting too clever for his own good.'

'I'd go with the latter,' said Harry quickly. 'I don't trust that white-haired rodent one bit. It wouldn't surprise me if all that was just a joke. Something to make us think he was on our side so he could just twist us all round his little finger and snap us when the right mood takes him.'

'I'll second that!' was Ron's response. Hermione remained tight-lipped. 'He's a Slytherin through and through. Ambitious. Devious... He'll do anything to get what he wants. That's in plenty of evidence even without the Hippogriffs. I just can't bring myself to trust him.'

'But there's always the possibility that he's finally found a rebellious streak,' reasoned Hermione as an after-thought. 'And for once he's putting it to good use. You never know...' she smirked a little. 'Miracles have happened.'

'Not here, I think,' Harry said with a sudden sombreness, his emerald eyes now firmly downcast. 'I still think Malfoy's out for number one. That this is just one big giant stunt. He'll probably come back next term and swagger up to us expecting we'll worship the ground he walks on. Cunning as a fox. It's just all too out of character. He was a Slytherin when he was eleven and I doubt he's had a personality change overnight. And I'll...'

But here Harry was forced to stop, his words standing stock-still in the air as he felt his face flash guiltily as he met the gaze of Remus. He had become detached from his conversation with Arabella and Dumbledore and now turned to face the next generation, obviously distressed at their topic of discussion. He turned to address them sternly.

'Harry,' he said with the air of a wise old relative, which Harry in fact supposed he was. 'The personality traits so prominent when you were eleven years old and sitting on a stool in front of the whole school cannot dictate your future path. One of the many sad things You-Know-Who has bestowed on this world is a greater sense of division. There was a time when a Slytherin wouldn't be slandered just because of what he was as a child. Like Hermione said, people change.'

'But Professor,' protested Ron, the stern look on Remus' face softening for an instant through this honourable address. 'This is Malfoy we're talking about. Draco Malfoy. The kid who has spent the past four years calling Hermione a mudblood, getting knuckle sandwiches from me for it and now should be gearing himself up for a life of the dark arts. Are you trying to tell us he's had a personality transplant overnight?'

Remus' face swiftly changed to its original state as he addressed the three of them. 'Have any of you actually held a conversation of length with young Mr Malfoy?'

They all shook their heads guiltily. Harry frowned at the prospect. Why would they want to talk to that scumbag anyway, even if he had saved their lives? Remus obviously caught his thought and spoke to him personally.

'In that case, I don't think you can claim to know him, let alone understand him and predict his next move. Think about where he comes from. Think of his father. You saw him in the cell. With that huge brute of a man hanging over his every step, do you suppose he gets to show his true colours that often?'

'But he's a Slytherin!' Ron continued to protest with a hiss. 'And everyone knows all the dark wizards always come from that house...'

'And Peter Pettigrew was a Gryffindor, Ron. Rules are there to be broken. Peter's nerve and daring, although so deeply hidden, was used to stride into the shadows and fight for the dark in defiance of his friends. A Slytherin's ambition is not a bad trait to maintain. Not all ambition turns to greed and evil. The best people in this world can harness the most negative traits and use them for the greatest of good. Maybe our friend Draco has chosen the honourable path. We can only hope.'

'Rebellion in the ranks, you reckon?'

Remus smiled. 'Maybe. Just maybe. We've go to have something to be optimistic about in this day and age. That was always James' department, the optimism. Mr Malfoy may be playing our bluff. He may be fighting a genuine cause, which if that is the case, he deserves the highest form of praise we can bestow. We are fighting the same foe, and people who choose to fight it alone have certainly chosen a difficult path. But,' he continued, addressing the three of them as if they were back inside his classroom, 'I suggest you leave Malfoy to his own devices. If it is genuine then we don't need to blow his cover. If not then we don't want you all to fall into his trap. We need normality in the madness, I can assure you. And if that means you lot are all at each other's throats then so be it.' He winked. 'I think we'll need the entertainment.'

And then he turned back to his conversation with Arabella, a deep scowl of concentration erupting on his forehead as they spoke in hushed tones. Hermione looked straight back at Harry.

'So,' said Hermione, looking at her cereal intently. 'Are you all right?'

'No,' Harry replied, shaking his head a little with the notion and the insistence of his friends. He blinked heavily and looked up at them, his face set in a form of determination that Harry felt had never been so present on his features ever before. He smiled a little to himself as the words of Hagrid last term suddenly came to him. He sighed. 'But I will be.'

***

Claudia held onto Lucy through the crook of her arm as she breathed in a lung full of the cleanest air she'd ever encountered in her life. The birds were singing now their midday song, slightly muffled from a wood beyond the shore of the lake as the water gently lapped at the banks and calmed the scene with its tranquil sounds. It was peaceful.

Not for the first time in fourteen years, Claudia found herself wishing to be able to match the sounds with the image, to see the sight the wizards had so kindly - and magically - let her feel. Her heightened senses could pick up a pin drop, but would never see it hit the ground and spin lightly as it did, light occasionally catching on its silver spine in a delicate dance of gravity. Everything out here was so alive, so buzzing with excitement at the pure essence of being it was as if the air was electric with magic. It amazed her.

Claudia's hash browns were more settled in her stomach now, her breakfast hard to cope with in light of what went on before. How much her life had changed within a space of a week. Nothing would be the same. She wasn't sure if she wanted it any different. If anything, the last week had been a metaphorical eye-opener for the struggling writer who was stuck in a boring nine to five job that was killing her with its effort of surviving day to day. She was fed up of following the flow. She wanted to fight back.

'So what do you think?' asked Lucy innocently. Claudia smiled.

'It's the most beautiful place I never saw.'

They sunk into silence again as their individual thoughts engulfed them. So much had happened between them that nothing really needed to be put into words. It was all said and done.

Lucy gazed across the lake, the water sparkling in the late morning sun, the occasional tentacle of the squid emerging form the depths to lap up this new found warmth. Yet she shivered. She didn't feel at one with it all, the whole concept, the magic. She didn't feel a part of it. Claudia didn't even raise an eyebrow at the phenomena all around her, as if she already knew of its existence and was totally prepared to co-operate with it. But all Lucy wanted was to go home and forget about it all. She just wanted to see Paul again. She was missing him more than ever, a dull ache sitting upon her chest like the knife that had robbed Sirius of life, draining her soul by the fact she wasn't able to share her fears with him. She had Claudia, yes, but they were on completely different plains. They were worlds apart. She sighed again.

'So what's the plan now? For us two, I mean?' Claudia's lack of response sent her sister stuttering for words. She coughed awkwardly and look at her intensely. 'W-Where do we go from here?'

Claudia kept her inner eye fixed on the water ahead, not moving at all as she answered. 'Dumbledore spoke to me earlier. He said the Ministry will want to talk to me too. They'll want to have a statement, for Pettigrew's trial. He'll think they'll be in contact within a week. He suggested I stayed here for the duration.' She paused again and sighed. 'I don't think I'd want to be anywhere else.'

'Claudia?' Lucy whispered, almost timid of her own words. 'I just want to go home.'

Claudia didn't make an effort to reply, but merely turned her head to listen.

'This isn't my world, Claudia.' Lucy continued, 'This isn't part of me. I'm as dull as ditch water, the suburban housewife with a long distance husband and a dishwasher that likes to break down every five months on demand. I like my world. I just want things to go back to the way it was.' She drew in a sharp breath. 'I don't want to have the nightmares.'

'Nightmares?' Claudia frowned.

'Like you. All those nights you'd wake up screaming, yelling the house down as you remembered the accident. All that stuff you told me being true, I just don't think I could cope with it. I'm barely hanging on now. I don't want to be waking up in a cold sweat too and have to cover it all up with lies. I don't want to lie to Paul. I tell him everything. And if I can no longer do that, then I just want to forget it.'

Claudia opened her mouth to begin to protest, but knew it wouldn't do any good. Her sister was a stubborn soul. And if a life of denial was exactly what she wanted, she was aware there was nothing she could so about it. She sighed instead and turned back to the lakeshore. 'You'll have to take a memory charm. Like they wanted to do to me after the accident. You won't remember a thing, literally. It'll just be a big, huge blank.' She reached out for her sister's hand and took it. 'It won't be easy, you know.'

'I have the will power,' was the simple, subdued reply.

Silence washed over them again. The song of the birds died down to a minimum as the breeze suddenly shook the trees, their leaves rustling together like a wave crashing into the shore, wiping away the tide mark to create a fictional one from the debris of the sea. Lucy removed her hand from Claudia's and lay back in the grass, closing her own eyes and allowing the warmth of the fresh new sun to totally envelop her face in a vague attempt at contentment. She had decided her fate. She wouldn't have to live with this any longer. After the trial, when it was over, she'd be free.

'This really is a beautiful place, Claudia,' she said, her eyes open again and watching the clouds roll slowly by above them. 'Trees, lake, the castle behind us. They've even got mountains, would you believe. It's breathtaking. How they keep it hidden from us is a mystery.' She closed her eyes again and sighed wearily. 'I just wish just for a moment you could...'

'Could what?'

But Lucy didn't answer. She sat bolt up right, looking electrified as a flash of miraculous inspiration crossed her face as she began to struggle to her feet, muttering something to herself as she rose. She could barely maintain control upon her natural reserve. She was almost squealing with delight.

'Of course!' she yelled, the echo of her shout bouncing off the walls of the castle behind even causing a flock of birds to flee their sanctuary in the forbidden forest beyond. 'Of course! Why didn't we think if it earlier? It must be possible somehow, he said so, the others must know, and...'

'Lucy,' said Claudia, smiling a little at her sister's unusual outburst. 'What on earth are you talking about?'

'Come on,' she replied, grabbing Claudia by her wrist and dragging her back to her feet. 'We have to go and find Dumbledore...'

'But why?' she now begged of Lucy.

'To get your compensation.'

***

Harry was back in Dumbledore's office. It was full of the brilliant light of day, the rays coming in through the open window and bouncing off the glass fronted cabinets. Within them, the stirring waters of the Headmaster's pensieve slowly revolved in the deep set bowl and proved for once to be no temptation to the shattered fifteen year-old, both in body and also in mind. Dumbledore had asked to see him at midday, and that was how Harry found himself sitting anxiously in the large circular room, having easily guessed the password of 'Curly Whirly' from his knowledge of muggle confectionery after years of watching Dudley constantly consume them.

Fawkes the phoenix looked particularly spectacular with his fresh red plumage, the feathers glossy and bright as he stretched his wings to tuck his head under them, quietly putting down for a snooze. Harry had had enough of sleep. It was time to face the light of day.

He got out of his chair and wandered absently over the window, widely open to let in the fresh summer air. He could see the lake from here, the squid bathing itself in the warmth of day as two figures watched on, Harry guessing Lucy and Claudia by the way they were holding themselves and their colouring from a distance. Lucy looked a little on edge, still in awe at the beauty around her but looking as if the slightest noise would send her toppling over. Claudia looked indifferent, settled even. Peaceful. They got up silently and quickly moved away, walking back towards the castle and the entrance below Harry's feet.

A few minutes passed, and Harry continued to watch as nature moved in perfect symmetry as if nothing at all had changed, that nothing in its make-up was missing. Least of all the dog. Then a few other figures Harry didn't recognise shrouded in Ministry robes scuttled across the scene. They were huddled together like a collection of gossiping schoolgirls, carrying a darkened package between them tenderly like a bomb that was about to explode. Pettigrew, he thought. Justice had finally been served. But then the door to the office suddenly opened and shut just as swiftly in a second as another body entered the room.

'Hello, Harry,' came a voice from somewhere far behind. 'I think I owe you an apology.'

Dumbledore was now striding across the room with his hands tucked solemnly behind his back and his head firmly focused on his toes. He wandered over to his desk and sat down opposite Harry, a million woes escaping with him as he settled into his chair and scratched his chin absently. Harry didn't utter a word, as he didn't know where the old man was truly coming from. Dumbledore fixed him with an ice blue gaze.

'Harry,' he began slowly and deliberately, 'Everyone makes mistakes. That's exactly what makes us human, whether we're Muggles, Wizards or something completely different. Everyone is fallible, least of all myself. I feel I've let you down.'

'Let me down?'

'Yes, Harry, you. You see, it has come to my attention that you aren't a child any more. You are not the baby I left in a basket or even the boy who escaped the Dark Lord's wrath merely weeks ago. You are rapidly becoming a young adult. But in a moment of blindness, of sheer and undisputed misjudgement, I refused to realise this factor. I still treated you like the child you had already proved you had left far behind in the past. I made a mistake that in the circumstances has proved to be fatal.'

Harry looked horrified. 'But Sir...'

'Let me finish. I am aware of my own advice. That no one is to blame for Sirius' death. Like you all I try to take solace in that but this time round I find it particularly hard to stomach. The reason you all went on this honourable crusade was because I deprived you of the information. I never told you about the Phoenix until it was forced out of me, even though I was fully aware of your position in our ranks. I never told you about Arabella, or the protection I placed on Privet Drive for all the time you are in the care of Hogwarts, and - if necessary - beyond. I now know that there will be nothing I can do to stop you. I do not want to stop you, Harry. It was stopping you from doing what you do best that did more harm than good for this situation.' He sighed and looked more tired than Harry had ever seen him. It unnerved him a little. 'I forget how much you are your father's son, ever curious, not satisfied with the 'you'll understand when you're old enough' line. You want to understand now. You see with your mother's eyes. You want to help. And I have no intention of stopping you.'

Harry sat in silence for a second, merely looking at Dumbledore who was looking straight back, his face expressionless and unblinking. Harry let the words sink in before he spoke.

'So what does this mean?' he asked quietly. 'What's going to happen now?'

The Headmaster smiled a little. 'Do you remember, after you saved the Philosopher's stone, I told you something about the truth? That it was a beautiful and terrible thing?' Harry nodded. 'Well, I think it's time that you saw the horrors of reality. I can't keep you sheltered from the dark. It is coming and we either face it as a group or not face it at all. You have suffered enough at the hands of the truth to understand all sides of its nature. If you feel the need to question, do not hesitate to ask. I will always intend to answer.' He stood up and wandered over to the window and gazed out across the grounds before looking at Harry over his shoulder. 'I'm here for you, should you ever need me.'

'Thank you.'

Harry took that as a cue to leave. He raised himself with effort from his chair with all intent and purpose to seek solution with Ron and Hermione when a thought struck him afresh, a little tentative in its approach but brimming over with its necessity. Harry had to be practical now.

'What are we going to do?' he asked timidly, 'About everything... About Sirius?'

Dumbledore's face became set rigid again. 'The ministry special squad collected Mr Pettigrew this morning. I was finally able to prove his existence to them, and the trial is set for a couple of weeks. Sirius is as good as free.' Dumbledore paused, then bowed his head. 'We need to give him the proper rites. Let him have the eternal peace the man now thoroughly deserves. He loved you like a son, Harry. I think it should be down to you.'

Harry took a deep shivering breath. 'He needs to be with his friends. Take him to my parents. They should be buried side by side. Marauders forever.'

Dumbledore frowned. 'Buried?'

'Next to the graves of my parents, I mean...' Harry said quietly confused, stuttering a little in the Headmaster's stare and feeling as if he said something wrong. But then a thought struck him new and he couldn't help but air it. 'Where are they buried, Sir?'

At this, Dumbledore gave himself a sort of smile, almost lopsided as if the emotion shouldn't be allowed but something Harry said seemed to amuse him. He had to restrain himself from a chuckle. 'Oh my dear boy,' he said, 'I forget how much you are in ignorance of. And I believe my new policy sets out to reward you the truth, so be it. Your parents were never buried. They were set free.'

It was Harry's turn to frown. 'What do you mean?'

'The Wizarding world is similar to that of the Muggles in many respects, Harry,' he replied, the smallest of twinkles present behind his moon shaped glasses. 'But this is certainly a point for difference. For us, there is no dignity in being buried, being trapped beneath the ground for a thousand years as like our life spans, our bodies cannot decay in such a manner. Grave yards and coffins simply will not do. Wizards and witches belong with the wind. In death, they deserve to be free.'

Harry felt a lump begin to develop in his throat as Dumbledore moved onto the inevitable. A place where he wasn't present. A place he of all people should have been. A place where he could have said goodbye. His parent's own funeral.

'Fourteen years ago,' Dumbledore began slowly, 'we had the same debate regarding your parents. They were either to be buried like Muggles at your Aunt's reluctant request, or removed from their physical presence on earth in the usual, Wizarding way. Your Aunt and her husband wanted as much to do with your mother in life as she did in death, so your parents were given the departure they truly, truly deserved. I did request your presence at the pyre, but your new Guardians forcefully declined.'

'The pyre?'

'Yes, Harry, the pyre. If there is one certainty in the world of magic, it is that it is found all around us. We are all one with nature, and it is magic that binds us to it. Like a man to his wand, as it were. And for that cycle to continue and the binds of life to be maintained, the magic that concentrates itself in the bodies and blood of wizards needs to be released. And only the process of flames will do that.' Harry still looked a little taken back, but Dumbledore leaned forward to continue the address as enlightenment began to dawn on the young man's face. 'Raw, unattended fire has amazing, magical qualities, Harry. For it is the only substance on earth that can release magic from our bodies. Of course Muggles were aware of this fact and put it to full use in the witch hunts of the middle ages, although not many witches became victims of that particular misjudgement. Never underestimate the usefulness of a flame freezing charm...' He waved his hand across his face, 'But I digress. We have to release our magic back into nature to ensure its continued existence. We may not know what happens to our souls once we depart from the land of the living, but at least we know what happens to our magic. Nature gives others the chance. Nature gives magic back.'

There was a silence for a while as the cogs in Harry's brain clicked everything into place. He blinked heavily as it sunk in. 'You mean the Muggle-borns. Like Hermione...'

Dumbledore nodded. 'The wonders of magic are endless, Harry. It gives people a chance. It sees people like young Miss Granger as worthy of its opportunities and did not hesitate in awarding her that chance. And for people like your parents to leave their physical presence in such a way for such a cause, it is honourable beyond words.'

Harry sighed. 'Then Sirius would want to do the same.'

'I think he would, Harry,' Dumbledore replied. 'I really think he would.'

They sat in silence for a minute or so, Dumbledore examining an instrument on his desk that proceeded to omit great puffs of pink smoke as Harry swallowed down his thoughts, the greyness reappearing in his face as the reality of death settled over his head like storm cloud. He couldn't avoid it now. His parents, the Muggle, Cedric, now Sirius. The approach was on the rise. He'd just have to do the best he could to cope with it. Dark days ahead, as Dumbledore had said. But he knew the light beyond it was inciting.

'Excuse me, Headmaster?'

Neither of them had noticed Mrs Weasley making her sly approach into the room, lurking on the threshold as if she wasn't sure her presence was wanted or necessary. But there was something different about her, a new hope twinkling in her eyes that made Harry's heart leap without effort as he turned to meet her gaze. She'd obviously been running.

'Sorry to disturb you, Professor, Harry, but I really think you should come up to the Gryffindor tower...'

'Why Molly,' said Dumbledore, a little confused. 'What on earth's the matter?'

'It's Claudia,' she said breathlessly. 'She thinks there's a way to get her sight back.'

***

Exactly an hour later, Hermione was back in her element. She sat in a corner of the library, a particularly large, ominous volume open on her lap as her other hand occasionally reached for a chocolate frog supplied as always by Ron, whose secret stash of the sugary confectionery seemed to be endless. Other books were piled around her, dusty pages bound beneath the covers that held all the secrets and solutions a witch would ever need. But whether it could satisfy the appetite of a Miss Hermione Granger would be a completely different topic of debate.

Voldemort, for once, had been telling the truth. There was a way for Claudia to get her sight back. He said the only ritual he could think of hadn't been attempted for years, the words of its incantation long forgotten, and its location a complete mystery. Hence the search. Hermione had immediately pledged to raft through the library's medical section whilst Dumbledore sat in his office with Madam Pomfrey's private collection, her eyes lighting up at the fact that for the first time in what felt like weeks, she could finally do something. Be something of a help. She thrived on a challenge that for once didn't seem so impossible. At least this had a chance of success.

Claudia was back in the infirmary under the watchful eye of Remus and Arabella, whilst Madam Pomfrey prepared the witness for the possibilities of the night ahead. A groundwork had to be laid. Harry meanwhile was pouring over the deepening texts with Ron and Hermione, seeking solace in the words as his desperation to help was just as paramount. He may not have seemed at all happier, but Hermione could see he was more settled. The first step on the road to moving on. The mourning wouldn't be over in a day, Hermione was fully aware. She felt it herself in her heart. Something had died in herself that day. Sirius had been in effect a Godfather to them all.

Ron didn't feel a thing. He felt numb, completely out of his body, as if he'd been watching the past couple of days as a spirit floating above himself, everything a dream, a non-reality. He couldn't for the life of him out all that into words. He'd done things in the last few days his brain was yet to acknowledge yet. He'd taken the wand. He'd knocked out Malfoy. He'd faced Voldemort, the glowing face of that creation of the devil to haunt his memory like a ghost forever. Something inside him had changed. He'd grown. He didn't feel a boy anymore. He'd seen life and death in the very same instant and wasn't going to ever forget it. He didn't feel like a man either. He found himself occupying some space in between, a sort of personal limbo where his freckles evaporated but his hands remained gangly to his body, his shoulders overlarge compared to the rest but still making him irresistibly Ron. He was more than a Weasley. He was Ron. He'd done something. He would do more again. Sirius was gone, but somehow he knew there was nothing he could do about that, it was set in the fates. Moving on was to be an option, and one he would gladly accept. But he'd never, ever forget. No one would. But with a flicker of smile thrown in his direction by Hermione as she glanced up from her book, he knew it had at some level, some place he was yet to discover, that in the end it had been worth it.

Harry stretched out his toes. He was tired. He'd already slept for a night and a day, but within just hours of rising from his bed up in the Gryffindor Tower, he felt ready to hit the sack again. He was worn out beyond the words. But at least he felt at peace. Dumbledore had seen to that. The people he loved most, dead and alive, were with him. He could feel it. And in the face of the darkness, he thought it was all he'd ever need. And somehow he already knew that he'd have been right.

Hermione sat up a little, suddenly focusing on the book she had propped up against the table edge and began to read with a strange velocity as if the text would slip off the page if she didn't give it her full attention. She muttered its words under her breath, nodding to herself, before looking up at her two best friends and providing the answers they knew she'd never fail to deliver.

'Got it,' she said with an air of breathtaking modesty. 'This has got to be it. It's a sensory restorative ritual, so just a few adaptations and it should give us what we need, what Claudia needs, in fact.'

'What does it involve?' questioned Harry immediately, feeling a strange sense of urgency now enter his softened voice.

'A verse like incantation. It's about as close to necromancy as a normal wizard can get.'

'Necromancy?' Ron frowned. 'Calling on the dead? That doesn't exactly sound promising...'

'Under normal circumstances, certainly,' Hermione agreed vigorously, 'But as long as it's powerfully controlled, this should be all right. It involves calling on a willing spirit, an active spirit, say less that six months to a year departed, and asking them to hand back their senses. Spirits have no need of them, they can function perfectly well without them. Better even, less distracting. Momentary spiritual possession, I think, but I can't tell, exactly. There's no account of it being used, merely the spell itself. This is written in Middle English and is very hard to make out. Dumbledore will know, I'm sure. Mr Ollivander for certain. They'll both know exactly what it says.' She dog-eared the relevant page and slammed the book shut with a thump. 'We'll need a couple of hours to prepare I think, as long as the Headmaster agrees to it...'

'Are there any risks?' asked Ron again with an air of tight concern. 'I mean, possession? Could...' he coughed awkwardly, 'could she die?'

Hermione didn't answer, but merely looked tight-lipped. Instead she rose from her seat and grasped the book to her chest like a beloved childhood toy, warm, reassuring, always there and always reliable. Always, she thought, now she hoped.

'Let's take this up to the infirmary,' she said, avoiding Harry's eye. 'We need to get this started.'

***

Claudia had been sitting up in the infirmary all day, invisible people bustling around her, tidying around her virtually not noticing her presence. Remus, Arabella, Madam Pomfrey, even Lucy: they were all in their own little worlds, keeping her comfortable and keeping speech to a minimum as they waited news from the researchers below. She didn't mind. She actually liked it. The idea of not being noticed, of not being seen: It was appealing. It was as if the world for her was finally two-way. Everything was not to be seen. She wasn't the only one in self-imposed isolation. For once, she didn't feel alone.

The thought of being able to see the world by the time the sunset came to pass was a feeling of anticipation Claudia had never felt before. She was tingling at it right now, the idea of colour, of shape and substance the ability to see the set and appreciate nature to its fullest became the strongest desire she'd ever felt. She'd gain her independence again. She'd be able to start afresh, move out of Medway, get back to the city and the people she missed the most. The new people. The people she hadn't met yet, the potential flat mate, business partner, friend. Love of a lifetime even, all the people in herself she'd been scared to go out and find. The people presented to her merely as a voice and without a face could be anyone and anything. She would, in her own mind, be free.

By the time Harry, Ron, Hermione and Dumbledore had arrived in early evening, the sky outside had darkened to a deep shade of blood red, as if the liquid of human life itself was seeping across the clouds, tainting it even as the night began its approach. Claudia knew they were coming even before they reached the door. She could feel their footsteps down the hall, small, measured, unsure. Her heart panged with hope as the door swung open and they entered. But she didn't need to question. Somehow she already knew.

'It can be done, can't it?'

Dumbledore nodded. 'Yes, Claudia, it appears that it can. But there are many things you need to understand before I'll permit this to go ahead. You need to know what's going to happen to you. You need to understand why it's going to happen in this way. And how all this happened in the first place.'

She simply nodded and allowed the Headmaster to continue.

'We don't know exactly what spell was cast upon fourteen years ago. We only know its effects. Magical damage of such a manner can transfer a limited amount of magical residue to the person unfortunately inflicted. You have magic in you Claudia. It gives you a limited ability, most prominent in time of extreme emotion. Fear, anguish, terror. What you need to understand is that even if this ritual works, if we can get you your sight back, that residual magic will remain. You yourself unfortunately do not have the concentration to operate like a normal witch or wizard. You are in a league of your own. But I must be honest with you as this is a serious consideration. With such magic in your veins, although artificially placed, will make the likelihood of a magical child much more of a possibility.'

Much to Harry's astonishment, Claudia showed little reaction. She merely nodded her head in acknowledgement as Lucy looked on wide-eyed.

'I know,' she said quietly, showing no sign of surprise. 'I think I've always known.'

'The glass...' Lucy muttered, thunderstruck. 'The dreams and everything...'

'Indeed,' said Dumbledore, 'That is our most educated guess. But there are dangers I still need to explain. The ritual will mean you are possessed by a spirit from another world, who will transfer their ability to see into you. You must not be alarmed. You will be likely to see their memories, their sight, and feel like you are them for an instant, possibly. We cannot say for certain. We cannot even guarantee if it will work, or what the after effects could be. Necromancy is a branch of magic I do not like to delve into. It titters on the edge of the dark and can at times carry its deadly consequences, death being just one of a million. I just wanted to offer you a choice. If you don't want to, I will understand.' He straightened a little. 'Consider this carefully, Claudia. Take your time.'

Claudia blinked widely, her dark black lashes closing round her ice-white irises again and again as she processed the information in her brain. It was a lot to take in, so no one in the room could blame her. Hermione finally released the book and placed it quietly on the bedside table. But then the witness started to look round desperately.

'Harry?' she said. 'Are you there?'

Harry came forward and grasped her hand in his, the scene so familiar to that of fourteen years ago. He shivered. 'Yes, I'm here.'

'I need to ask you,' she said slowly, frightfully, 'because I think this is important. This thing sounds risky. Too risky. I want my sight back more than anything in the world, but I don't want to ruin everything. Sirius may not be here, but I still want to prove his innocence. I still want to be there for the trial. I need to be there, or else we have gone through all this together for nothing. Sirius would have died for nothing. Nothing at all.' She sat up a little in her chair and grasped Harry's hand even tighter, her other hand now finding his face and his scar. 'I can wait.' She continued, feeling along the scar tissue. 'I can wait until after the trial until I go through all this. There is no compulsion to do this now. I'll understand if you don't want me to. I can wait, Harry, I honestly can...'

'No,' interrupted Harry, looking more determined than ever, 'you can't. Even if the worst came to reality, it wouldn't be the end. We still have the wand, and Pettigrew himself is enough to disprove Sirius of his murder at the least. You'll be the icing on the cake, and we still need you. But I can't stand here and deprive you of this. Do it now.'

'Harry,' she began, 'are you sure? Because I...'

'I'm positive. Just do it.'

'Claudia,' said Arabella finally, a little apprehensive, 'This isn't going to be pretty. This isn't even going to be nice. The only accounts we have of this ritual doesn't make for pleasant bedtime reading. And that's just on wizards and witches. For a Muggle there is every possibility that it could be fatal. It's a very complex spell - '

'They always are...' interrupted Ron

'But as the Headmaster said, that doesn't mean it's impossible,' Claudia quickly replied. She took in a deep breath and seemed resolute. 'At least we've got to try.'

Arabella nodded, finally submitting. 'We owe you than much.' She swallowed more firmly and looked at her companions, gathered all around her. 'We owe Sirius that much. Are you all with me?'

Remus smiled and spoke for the first time, taking Arabella's hand and squeezing it slightly. 'We're with you.'

'Lets do it then.' Claudia said.

***

It was dark. It was darker than it had ever been in her life, a shade of black that could have only existed right in the centre of the never-ending abyss as Claudia found herself slipping into the enchanted sleep where the ritual would commence. It couldn't have existed, it was that improbable. It was just too dark. Her blindness had allowed at times the occasional flash of light, the once in a lifetime prompt, subtle hints at regular intervals that something existed beyond the physical barrier that held her back. But now there wasn't. She could have had the piercing eyes of a wild cat spotting the slightest movement in the grasses of the savannah and it wouldn't have made any difference. It was dark, and that was it.

Until suddenly, ever so quietly, she felt something come back to her. It had begun. The soul was infiltrating her very being, possessing her every nerve and vein and setting them alight as the visions came in a flash. It was things she'd never seen before, not her memories or ones that were implanted in her mind all that time ago in the war-like quad. These were fresh. But yet again they weren't her own.

She saw a letter encased in the greenest shade of ink, the parchment old and crinkled beneath another's fingers as they beheld the letter with joy. She felt the steam of a train rush past their youthful face, the vision clouded for a moment as they became engulfed in the clouds. She felt company, sitting with the unknown's companions as they raced to a destination. The destination. The running of padded feet, the danger and the trust. All these sights came in a rush, like a speeding bullet they pierced her receptive brain until she could bear them no longer. They weren't hers. She didn't want them, they felt wrong to be hers sitting in her subconscious, as if she'd stolen them from someone more deserving, someone who didn't deserve to lose them like this, give them up just to give her something back. But he didn't want them back. He was giving them up, for her. The struggle was horrible, wanting her to scream. She did in fact scream. Then there was the pain, like a layer of skin was being prised off her eyelids and exposing them to the same deadly light that damaged them in the first place. It was as if it was extracting out the very cells that held them all together, making them burst and cause such unforeseen damage she felt her heart perish with the thought. Sirius...

Then it stopped. All of a sudden, she felt as if she'd left the ground, as if she was floating away into a darkened space with nothing below her and nowhere to reach. She was suspended in a limbo, somewhere between the dark and the light, the glaring beams of the sun she so desperately she wanted to reach towering ahead. She had to reach it. She knew what lay beyond it, and she knew it was what she wanted. There was no choice in it. There never really was. She stepped into the light and knew she'd never, ever look back.

***

'Claudia?' came a voice, as sweet as the dawn chorus. 'Claudia, can you hear me?'

She could, and she nodded her head solemnly, her head still swimming after the out of body experience that was causing every cell in her body to tingle. She breathed deeply.

'Can you open your eyes?'

She wasn't sure. She didn't dare to. Her heart was beating wildly in her chest, every beat demanding an answer, a solution to the question. Did it work? Did it work? She just couldn't ignore it; she just couldn't put it off. She could feel them burning in her head, blistering almost beneath her eyelids as she willed them open, prised them open with her mind as they still refused to co-operate. Then came a voice.

'Don't worry, Claudia,' he said, the youthful worry easily covering up the previous expectation. 'Take your time now.'

Harry may have uttered these words with the utmost sincerity, but the look upon his face deceived him. He could feel a chill spread across his features, all colour draining back from the skin as he watched her, terrified. The sun was rapidly disappearing behind them now, the moon now appearing like a ghost in the twilight. The room was as blood red as the sky and under normal circumstances would have given everyone present a warm, rosy glow. But not now. They were white.

Harry stood at the foot of the bed, watching the scene unfold as Dumbledore had nodded quietly to Mr Ollivander and both stood back and pocketed their wand, the Headmaster's wrinkled face not giving anything away. Mrs Weasley hadn't been able to stand it, Mr Weasley tactfully removing her from the scene whilst the ritual was being committed, Lucy following close behind. But no such removal for Ron. Instead he stood a little detached freedom the bedside, occasionally biting his lip as an acknowledgement of concern ad Hermione stood close by, absently holding onto Ron's arm as if it was what she always did. It was a natural form of comfort. Meanwhile, Arabella and Remus stood to the other side of the scene, clearly keeping out but muttering prayers deeply underneath their breaths. They all had to pray now. They all had to hope.

Her eyes now gradually eased open.

She blinked. Claudia took a number of carefully measured breaths, as if each one was a gasp of brand new fresh air yet to be tainted with the horrors of the world and as pure of perfection itself. She seemed to look around, not at anything in particular, just at anything the scene in general. It was almost daze like. If it had worked, no one could say either way.

'Harry...' she suddenly said quietly, edging down her bed a little towards the direction of the voice, 'I...'

But them she paused. The sun outside in a last ditch attempt to stop itself from downing in the oncoming sea of dark, had omitted a beam, a ray of light like an arm emerging from the abyss, which had arched and penetrated through the trees of the wood beyond and now streamed into the infirmary. The room was suddenly filled with an almost holy light, everyone almost gasping in its wake, a little blinded by its unexpected entrance highlighting every particle in the air as it made its swirl-like descent to earth. Harry had his back to the window so wasn't affected by the sun. But Claudia was. She blinked widely, then her pupils dilated down until the whites of her irises nearly look over her eyes. She smiled.

'Sirius is right,' she said warmly, now seizing Harry's hands without him holding them up to her. 'You do look just like your father, but you have your mother's eyes...'

Harry for a moment continued to look anxious. 'So it worked?'

'Yes, I think it did.'

And the face of Harry Potter, the first face that Claudia Darlington had seen in fourteen long, tiring years, fourteen years of darkness and dreams, broke into a smile. She smiled. Everyone, for the first time in a long time, smiled. Claudia leaned further forward and pulled Harry into a deepening hug as Ron and Hermione made their way delightfully to the bed. They smiled in muted terms too.

'Thank you,' she said quietly, finally breaking the embrace.

'Don't thank me,' Harry replied, removing his glasses, rubbing them clean on the sleeve of his shirt and returning back to his nose. 'I think you know who you should thank.'

She nodded and swallowed hard, the feeling of a single soaking tear trickling down her cheek a revelation. 'Sirius.'

And then they all turned to watch the crescent moon begin to rise.

***

To be continued...