Draco: Phoenix Rising

Chapter Fifteen - Manors and Memories

Tonks muttered under her breath to annoy Moody. He kept motioning to her to be completely silent, but after crawling across meters and meters of mud, brambles, and countless slimy creatures, she needed to let off some steam.

"Couldn't we have walked the last half-mile?" she hissed.

Moody swiveled his eye to stare at her angrily. Surprisingly, he broke silence long enough to snap, "Why don't we just march straight up there and knock on the door?"

"Straight up where?" she asked.

Moody pointed. "There. Malfoy Manor. Can't you see it?"

"I don't see anything."

Moody nodded. "That figures. They hid it. Didn't do a very good job, if I can still see it. It's blurred, but it's there."

"They hid it? You mean, like our Headquarters?"

"Yeh. Makes ya wonder exactly what they have to hide, eh?"

Moody hissed as she was about to reply. "Hssst! Someone coming!" He pulled up the hood of his cloak.

A stumpy minion in black robes wandered past their line of vision, but Moody wore his Invisibility Cloak and Tonks had patterned both hair and skin to blend in with her surroundings. The minion looked more bored than watchful, anyway.

"I don't think they pay their help very well," she commented.

"Lucky for us. Let's get closer. Maybe I can see inside."

Tonks sighed and followed as they crept through more mud.

They watched for a long time, but Moody finally sighed. He spoke so quietly she could barely hear him.

"Nothin'. I know they're in there, but the spell keeps blurrin' things. Unless a Death Eater walks out the front door, we won't be seein' 'em. Let's get back."

They froze when a sudden rush of movement caught their attention. Several minions were rushing about. When they reached a central point, they vanished from Tonks's vision. She assumed it was the front door to Malfoy Manor.

"Something's up. Think they have an Anti-Apparition jinx on the place?"

"Why? Plan to pop in there and ask what's goin' on?"

Tonks scowled and considered bashing Moody over the head with a nearby mud-encrusted rock.

"I'm just asking."

Moody grunted. "Prob'ly not. They wouldn't want to be seen poppin' in and out around the grounds. Better to Apparate inside. Don't do us any good."

Tonks was quiet.

"Don't even think it. I let you go in there, Lupin'll have my good eye on a plate. 'Sides, you could pop in face to face with whoever you're impersonatin'. And you never been there before, so you'd have to go in blind."

Tonks sighed, knowing he was right. It was just hard, knowing they were so close to something that could help them all. What if You-Know-Who was in there? What good was being a Metamorphmagis if she couldn't use her abilities?

"We'll just have to assume they're there. Bide our time," Moody whispered.

They waited awhile longer, but the minions did not return. Tonks was tired of biding her time. She wanted to crack some Death Eater skulls.

"We need to have a talk with Fred and George. Someone needs to invent wizard surveillance cameras."

It would be a lot nicer than crawling through the mud to watch an invisible house.

Harry, Ron, and McGonagall stopped in at the Hog's Head for a butterbeer, as McGonagall said she had a message for the barkeep. Harry and Ron dropped into a chair while McGonagall talked quietly to the bearded barkeep, who kept shooting odd looks at them under beetled brows. John Williamson, an Auror that had recently joined the Order, was drinking in a corner and examining a scroll. When they left a few minutes later, Williamson joined them, once they were out of sight of the Hog's Head.

He marched ahead as an advance guard and his long ponytail swayed with each step. He still wore the scarlet robes he favored, although it seemed an odd choice for a secretive Auror.

The weather was perfect for a walk. Harry was half-expecting something to happen on the way to Hogwarts, although it was unlikely the enemy knew his current whereabouts. He breathed a sigh of relief when they reached the gates and McGonagall opened them with a wand flick. He remembered when Snape had let him in after Malfoy stomped him on the train, and wondered if they had done anything to prevent Snape from returning.

He would have asked, but experienced a horrible flashback walking across the grounds. He remembered cursing Snape, feeling more rage than he would have thought possible, sending hex after hex and watching them deflected. Guilt nearly overwhelmed him. He should have been able to stop Snape. He should have at least captured Dumbledore's murderer. How could he have allowed Snape to flee?

He glanced over at Hagrid's hut and was glad to see signs of recent repair. He made a mental promise to stop in and see how Hagrid was doing.

They walked into the school, following McGonagall. Williamson left them at the school doors with a wave, promising to stop in before he left for the Ministry. Their footsteps echoed emptily.

"It's kind of creepy when no one's here," Ron said in a stage whisper.

"Yeah, it's like when we're sneaking around after hours, but in the day time."

"I expect you boys will want to stay in Gryffindor Tower while you're here?" McGonagall asked. Harry nodded. He couldn't imagine staying elsewhere, even though it would be odd to be there alone.

"Lupin is sending your things along."

They followed her to the Headmaster's Office and Harry tried not to think of all the times he'd come here to see Dumbledore. He was glad to see the office itself had changed slightly. For some reason, it was easier to bear. Several items had been removed, including Fawkes's perch. A large vase of flowers now occupied a corner of the desk. Harry's eyes were drawn immediately to the newest portrait on the wall. Dumbledore's eyes sparkled at him.

"Hello, Harry," the portrait said kindly.

"Hello," Harry whispered.

"I have a message for you. Ah. Here it comes now."

Fawkes swept through the open window in a red flash of wings. He hovered in front of Harry and dropped a small scroll. Harry caught it and the phoenix flew upwards and back out the window. Harry walked to the window embrasure, sat down, and broke the wax seal.

Dear Harry, If you are reading this scroll, it means that I have at last gone to explore the final mystery. I did not wish to leave you so soon, and so dreadfully unprepared, but perhaps this will make amends for my lack of vision and reluctance to give you the tools you need for the difficult road ahead. Alas, the only help I have for you is little more than knowledge and speculation. To that end, I have left you my Pensieve, which I know you will seek out as soon as you feel you are ready. Several important memories have been prepared for you. They have been arranged in chronological order, for the most part, beginning with that fateful day in October. That one is not my own, and it will be difficult to bear, but I now know that you are strong enough to carry this dreadful burden that has been placed on you. I will assist you in every way possible, even though I am beyond the veil. Faithfully yours, Albus Dumbledore.

Harry wordlessly handed the scroll to Ron and then got up and walked to the cabinet where Dumbledore had kept the Pensieve. On a shelf above sat several rows of silvery vials. The first was marked with a label that read: Sirius Black. Godric's Hollow. (October, 1981.) Harry shut his eyes for a moment and thought about Dumbledore's words. He was not certain he was strong enough to handle that particular memory, and suddenly knew why Dumbledore had withheld it.

He grasped the vial and tugged the Pensieve from its resting place.

"Are you certain you want to do that now, Potter?" McGonagall asked apprehensively. He didn't want to do it at all.

"Yes."

He took the Pensieve to the window seat in order to be out of McGonagall's way while she dealt with her letters. Harry looked at Ron.

"You need not stay... unless you want to come along?"

He half-wished Ron would refuse, as the memories would affect Harry on such a personal level he wasn't sure he wanted a witness. But, Ron had stood by him through every adversity. It would not be fair to exclude him.

"I'll come," Ron said. "Too bad Hermione isn't here. She might notice something we miss. You know how she is. I'll try and pay attention. For clues, you know?"

Harry nodded. He hadn't thought of that.

"Here we go, then." He uncorked the vial and let the wisp of memory swirl into the basin. He and Ron lowered their faces and the same time... and entered the past.

They found themselves in a small cottage. Seated on a comfortable-looking settee were the two people Harry would have given anything imaginable to reach out and touch, if only for a moment. His father looked the same as he had in the Mirror of Erised, but so much more real. He looked relaxed, with one arm around Lily and the other tapping his wand on the cushion in a catchy rhythm. Harry walked forward and knelt before his parents to get a better look. Lily was next to James and one hand rested on his knee. The other held an infant and she smiled down at its tiny face. Harry tore his eyes away from his mother and looked into his own countenance. Baby Harry cooed and yanked at a strand of his mother's red hair. His own thatch of black hair was unruly even then.

"Let's get this done, then," a familiar voice said behind Harry and he turned to see two others seated in chairs that had been pulled close to the settee. Sirius had been shockingly handsome before Azkaban, Harry noted. His black hair was sleek as a raven's wing and a single lock dangled over his forehead to cover one eye. Harry bet hundreds of women would have fought for the job of brushing that errant lock back into place. His chiseled face was serious at the moment, but his dark eyes gleamed with perpetual merriment, so different and carefree from the Sirius Harry had known.

Next to him sat Peter Pettigrew, looking neatly groomed, but slightly jumpy. He perched uncomfortably on the edge of the chair, as if he wanted to run from the room. Harry wished with all his might that Peter could be made real in that moment. Harry would have ended it right there, before it began.

"Are you sure about this, Sirius?" Peter asked apprehensively. "I still say you should be the Secret Keeper, not me."

His eyes pleaded with Sirius. He practically begged not to be given the knowledge. Listen to him, Harry thought desperately. He doesn't want to betray you, but he knows he will. Beads of sweat stood out on Pettigrew's forehead and his nose twitched nervously.

"Nonsense," Sirius said brusquely, the picture of confidence. "They'll never suspect you, Peter. It's the perfect plan. If anyone, they'll come after me, and this way I won't be able to tell them a thing."

"Let's pray it never comes to that," Lily said worriedly.

Sirius laughed, a barklike sound much less harsh that the one Harry was used to. One that he would never hear again. It broke his heart to hear it.

"Of course they'll never catch me. I'm far too tricky for that. This is just a precaution. We have to protect Harry. Just in case."

James sighed explosively. "If not for Harry, we wouldn't be here at all. We'd be out there, fighting with the rest of you."

Harry turned back to see his mother's green eyes flash.

"Don't say you're sorry, James," she snapped and removed her hand from his knee. James held up a hand with a laugh.

"Down, Mrs. Potter! Never think it! I adore Harry. I just hate hiding here like scared rabbits."

"We're not hiding like rabbits. There is nothing to stop us from walking out of here and being killed alongside the others. This is simply a precaution to keep Harry safe while we're here. Besides, you'll be back to work next week."

"May we get on with this?" Sirius broke in impatiently.

Without further adieu, baby Harry was placed into Sirius's waiting hands. He merrily joggled and made faces and tickled the baby while the other three solemnly joined hands. Harry barely paid attention while his mother cast the spell that sealed their fate. He didn't want to watch at all.

When it was done, James said, "All right, Secret Keeper Pettigrew. Tell Sirius the secret so that he may come and go as he pleases."

Peter obediently told Sirius where the Potter family could be found. Then he asked, "Should I tell Remus?"

Sirius and James shot each other a look over Peter's head.

"Not quite yet, Peter. Not quite yet," Sirius said softly.

Harry looked at Ron, whose face was stricken. Neither of them spoke. Harry thought the memory was over, but the scene was swept away and replaced by another. Sirius was opening the door to a small, much cluttered flat. He carried a box.

"Peter! I've brought food." He kicked aside a pile of clothing and set the box on the table after shoving aside a stack of refuse. "Bloody hell, you would be comfortable living in a sewer with the other rats, wouldn't you? Peter?"

Sirius froze suddenly and Harry felt his heart clench with his godfather's.

He screamed Peter's name once more and his expression showed stark terror before he turned and pounded out the door.

The scene shifted again and Harry gasped. He and Ron were flying, although Harry felt no breeze stir his hair. They flew next to Sirius, who sped through the dark sky pushing his flying motorbike to the limit. It touched the street and skid to a spine-jolting halt, but Sirius was off and running for the ruined house before the bike hit the ground.

"No, no, no, no, no," Harry heard him moan as he ran beside Sirius. Hagrid stood near the rubble, holding a small bundle. Sirius raced past him to a dark shape near what remained of the front door. He flung himself on the ground next to the body of Harry's father, and grabbed him by the shoulders. James's dark head lolled and Sirius pressed a hand to his neck in futility. Harry felt tears of his own start to fall as Sirius clutched James to his chest and sobbed in sheer misery, still murmuring words of denial as if the chant would cause everything to un-happen. Sirius sat that way for a long time, rocking miserably, until Hagrid coughed quietly behind him. As Harry watched, Sirius set James gently back on the earth and stood up. His face was like carved marble.

"Where's Lily?" he rasped.

"There, in the rubble," Hagrid admitted. "Don'... Don' go in, Sirius. 'S too late."

Sirius looked at the tumbled ruins that Harry had visited just that morning, although the exposed timbers looked raw as a fresh wound. Harry prayed Sirius would listen. He didn't want to see his mother... Sirius hitched a breath, but seemed to regain his composure as he turned to Hagrid and noticed the bundle clutched in Hagrid's huge hands.

"Is it Harry? Is he alive?"

"Yeh. Don' know why. Got a bad cut on 'is head, here."

"Can I have him?" Sirius asked and his voice broke slightly. Hagrid shook his head and clutched the baby convulsively. The child whimpered, but made no other sound.

"Naw, Dumbledore gave me strict orders. Take Harry to a safe place 'til he says come out."

"But, I'm his godfather! I'm all Harry has left!"

Hagrid's face was set. "You can take it up wi' Dumbledore, but Harry is comin' wi' me."

For a moment, Sirius looked bereft and Harry thought he might break down again. Harry felt like doing so. Then a terrible expression came over Sirius's features, a glacial rage that overcame and destroyed the beautiful spark of merriment that had lived in his eyes. Harry ached to see it go; knowing the Sirius that loved every moment of life was lost forever, replaced by a vengeful spirit that would never know another moment of peace. Never again, until a stone archway draped with a torn cloth took him back to those he loved.

"Peter," Sirius snarled, so low that Harry doubted Hagrid even heard him. Sirius reached up and gently touched baby Harry's head for a moment. Then he skirted Hagrid and walked away.

"Sirius! Where yeh goin'?"

"You can take my motorbike, Hagrid," Sirius called back. "I won't need it any more."

The mists swirled, and Harry found himself sitting next to Ron before the Pensieve. Ron's cheeks were wet with tears, as were Harry's.

"I need to take a walk," Harry said raggedly. He left the Headmaster's office, sank down in an empty alcove, and cried until he had nothing left to weep.