Requiem

Requiem

Chapter 1
Harry Potter...Auror Extrodiare?

He watched the world through emerald eyes. No longer bright sparkling gems of deep green, they had dulled. His soul peered out through those eyes, staring at the world around him. Tired, and weary he was from all that he had been through, he stared at all of those working around him as if they were strangers. In a way, they were. Strangers because he had driven them away from himself, not wanting to be reminded of her.

She had been his wife of seven years. They had been married a month after leaving school and joining the ever more dangerous world. But with her, and with his best friend beside him, they could handle anything, face any obstacle and still come out together. His life was complete.

Complete. He thought about that word as he repeated it over and over again in his mind. He would never be complete again. Never. He simply no longer cared about anyone, or anything. Except revenge.

It was what kept him going, after all. Revenge on those that had snatched his love away from him forever. His hands clenched tightly as he mulled that thought over in his mind.

His desire for revenge against those who had caused so much pain to him overwhelmed him at times, and he would cry out. His co-workers would turn, looking at him strangely, but with sympathy. They don't understand, he thought. I have lost everything, and have nothing left. They go home to their families, and live happy little lives. They don't understand. They can't.

One other did understand. Ron, his best friend understood what he had lost, because he too had lost someone dear to him. But his best friend had his brothers to fall back on; even when all was lost, his best friend had other family. I have no one left, the raven haired man told himself.

He watched the world pass him by, unnoticed by all but the most observant of wizards. Although he was tall, and some would say good-looking, the lack of regard for himself and basic hygiene prevented most from approaching him. His coal black hair was unkempt, and long strands wound their greasy way down his neck and upper back. His tall frame had become gaunt, and he rarely performed any action that required more than the most basic of motor skills. By far the most interesting feature about him was his scar. Of all the changes in the past year, the scar was one of the few constants. It was lightning shaped, and sat slightly to the right of the center of his forehead. The scar burned, a constant, dull pain, which alerted him to the mischief of his enemy.

Exactly a year ago, the scar's searing flame had burned into him, and he took notice, rising instantly from his Auror's meeting. He fled the room, his best friend following behind. The memory of that day played itself out behind the man's irises. He closed his eyes, remembering.

The warm summer day wound it's way around an Auror's meeting. He sat between Remus Lupin and Ron Weasley, and listened to Charlie Weasley make a report of the weeks activity.

Then it hit. A blinding pain, so powerful that he struggled not to black out from the pain. A flash of greenish light flickered across his shut eyes, and he saw the women he loved crumple to the floor.

"No!" He cried, jumping up and dragging Ron out of the room behind him.

"What is it Harry?" his best friend asked as the pair fled down the corridor towards the exit, and a safe apparition point.

In ragged breaths he answered, "They've attacked our flat." Ron, Harry, Hermione and Lavender Brown shared a flat together in London. "I think-"

"Don't say it." Ron told him fearfully. "I don't want to believe it."

They had reached the exit, and ran out of the building. In an instant, their wands were whipped out and they had Disapparated from the front of the building.

It took them only a few moments to reach the alley beside their building. They went into the street cautiously, watching for signs of Dark activity. Ron stopped, and grabbed a hold of Harry's should to stop him as well.

"What is it Ron?" he asked, and then Ron pointed above them. A blight on the otherwise cloudless day floated above the building. A skull, with a writhing snake blazed across the horizon. "No!" he said resolutely, although his stomach became tied in knots at the sight and he could no longer truly deny what had become a real possibility.

Taking one step at a time, the pair entered the building, and climbed the three flights of stairs to their flat. A plan red door greeted them. Harry whispered a complex Unlocking Charm, and the door creaked open.

Inside the flat, nothing was disturbed. Everything was just as they had left it that morning. Harry rushed through the five rooms, becoming ever more relieved that nothing seemed wrong. He saved the room that he and his wife shared, wanting to make sure that nothing could be wrong, that he had mistaken her death for something else. Hands shaking with trepidation, he pushed the door open.

What greeted him was eerily serene. Hermione lay on her side of the bed, billowing hair spread out around her. She looked so peaceful, so calm. She must have come home from work and taken a nap, which is how her attackers found her. Harry cautiously walked up to her, and put his hand on hers.

It was then that he saw her forehead. Cut out of the creamy skin was the one word that she could never escape from - Mudblood.

Harry let out a cry, and Ron came running from the kitchen into the room.

"Lavender--" Ron stopped, unable to speak. Harry's heart felt like breaking in two. It was as if everything that he did no longer mattered to him; no matter how many lives he saved, or Dark wizards he defeated, he would never speak to the only thing that truly mattered to him again.

He began to cry uncontrollably. Huge sobs wracked the room, Harry's tears wetting his cloak, the clothes underneath and the bedspread.

"It's not fair!" he screamed to the ceiling. "They were innocent of anything but loving us! Why do you have to take them now? Why?" Harry's words drowned in a sea of tears that could not stop.

His grief and madness overtook him. Harry began to lash out at anything and everything. Ron, crying his own tears, backed out of the room and closed the door, leaving Harry alone with his emotions.

Taking a long look at his wife, he noticed the letter that had been placed beside her. He picked it up, the crisp parchment crackling in his hands. His blurry eyes began to read the text, his rage becoming more and more palpable every moment.

Dear Mister Potter,

I have taken the liberty to write you this little note, which you will undoubtedly find. Yes, your Mudblood wife is dead, and I am glad to be rid of her. Nothing you can do can affect the fact that I will always be the stronger of us, the brighter, more power one. Your wife was sleeping when we took her from you, as was the other girl. An unfortunate turn of events, but you will understand why I couldn't let her live as well. As we know each other so very well Harry, I don't mind telling you that. Are you angry, Harry? Does your rage fill you? I'm sure it does, because you are the angry type. Remember, Harry, that I am watching you. No one that you love or care for is safe from me. Since you defeated me the first time, the battle has always been between you and I. No one else. You will face me again, and when you do, no Protection Charm of your halfblooded mother's will be able to protect you. You will fall.

But back to your wife. Let's just say that I will enjoy thinking about your pain, your suffering. And who knows, I may still be able to convince you to join me. Have a good day.

Best Wishes,
You-Know-Who

Harry's hands shook with fury at the sight of the letter. His mind roiled as he thought about torturing his greatest enemy. It took great effort, but he got his rage in check and made a silent promise to himself. He promised to become harder than steel, unable to bend or break, so that Voldemort would not be able to wrench his heart again. He promised to honor her memory forever. But the last promise to himself was the most important. Harry promised himself that he would never rest until his thirst for revenge had been satisfied.

Harry barely remembered the next few weeks. Nothing could stop his outbursts of rage until he himself calmed down. He gradually pushed all of his old friends away from his life, allowing only Ron, whom he still lived with, access to his thoughts.

Ron watched as his best friend went from blissfully happy to a shadow of his former in a few short weeks. Harry drew away from everyone but him, and even then contact with Harry was limited to as few words as possible. Ron wondered often whether or not the Harry that he had grown up with even still existed.

"Harry?" A thin reedy tenor broke his thoughts. Harry's dull gaze turned towards the voice and nodded to Neville Longbottom, a classmate of his from Hogwarts. "I'm leaving the reports on Dark activity on your desk. Is that all right?" Neville managed to squeak out. Although Neville was a great Auror, something about Harry scared him, just as the old Potions professor at Hogwartsw used to scare him.

"Humph." Harry snorted, and Neville scurried away. He had just returned to the recesses of his mind when a second voice interrupted him. This bass he knew like the back of his hand, and did not have to look to see who it was.

"Harry? Are you in there? Hello?" Ron, although Lavender was gone, had more or less returned to his daily routine, and many times, and many times his jokes were the one thing that Harry could look forward to during his daily existence. Ron placed his calloused wand hand on Harry's thin shoulder and sat next to him.

"Yes?" Harry sounded weary.

"Not very talkative today, are you?"

"Do you know what today is, Ron?" Harry replied with a sigh.

"Harry, could we not talk about it please?" Ron's good nature slipped, and he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. "I know what day it is, and I'm trying my best to forget."

"Okay." The conversation lapsed into silence, and the pair of friends watched as the office bustled about.

"Weasley and Potter, there's a incoming fire message for you. Please report to fire alcove #7." The Aurors kept ten fireplaces for agent conversations handy. Harry and Ron stood wordlessly, and each hoped that their personal revenge would be settled on this day, the year anniversary of each of their loved one's deaths.

They walked into the fire alcove and sat down on the hard wooden bench that had been provided for them. Two heads poked through the crackling flames. Ron's stomach tightened at the sight of the two faces. One was his former enemy. The other was the reason that that enmity had dissolved. Ginny, Ron's sister and Draco Malfoy wore similar expressions, both worried and nervous.

"What's up?" Ron asked the bodyless figures.

"It's today." Ginny replied to her brother. Ron knew immediately what she referred to. He grew pale.

"What? Are you sure?"

Draco spoke with his familiar drawl "Really, Weasley. Would we tell you something like this to spite you? We have more class than that." Draco smirked and Ron reflected that some things about Draco never changed.

"Enough, Draco." Ginny scolded her husband softly. "Today is-" She began, but Draco cut her off.

"I know bloody well what today is. Do you think I'm blind? Potter's sulking, Weasley's sulking, and our Master picks *this day* to attack Hogwarts. Yeah, I know what today is," he finished, his pale face flushed.

"Stop." Harry spoke for the first time, and the other three fell silent. Harry waited for a moment and then continued. "When?"

Draco seemed reluctant to reply. Ron thought he saw Ginny gently nudge her husband "In an hour."

Harry looked thoughtful "That doesn't give us much time. Why didn't we hear of this from any of the others?"

"The Dark Lord wanted to keep this to himself. Will you be ready?"

"Yes." Harry spoke just the one word, but in it the body behind the rimmed classes placed all of the hopes and dreams of the wizarding world. And his own revenge. "How many attackers will there be?"

"Several hundred, if I understood correctly." Ginny said to the raven haired man. She looked over her shoulder and her voice became more urgent. "I hear someone coming. Anything else you need?"

"No," Ron replied. "Ginny, Draco, be careful. Are any of your 'friends' turning?"

Draco's eyes darkened "A few. We'll be together, so look for us. The only request I have is that I get to destroy my father." Draco's voice turned cold at the mention of his father, a man who he despised for the pain that he had caused his beloved Ginny, for whom he would give his life.

"Wouldn't have it any other way." Harry smirked morbidly. "See you soon." Draco and Ginny disappeared from the fire, just as Harry and Ron stood.

The two men walked quickly out of the alcove, and into the main corridor. Harry looked at Ron curiously as they walked to their desks.

"What?" Ron asked, unaware that he had been nodding his head and mumbling to himself.

"What are you thinking about, Ron?"

"That incident at the Burrow. Do you remember it?"

"I do." Harry did remember it, and the memories were not happy ones.

It was three weeks after Ron, Harry and Hermione had left Hogwarts. The three of them as well as Ginny lay just outside of the garden, watching the marshmallow clouds roll by. All three of the former seventh years were in short sleeves, but Ginny had refused to put on anything that would bear her arms, muttering something about the sun and her pale skin.

"I wonder what trouble Malfoy's getting himself into at this moment?" Harry asked the sky.

"Don't know, but whatever it is it had better not involve me." Ron replied.

Ginny was silent, thinking about the best time to say something. She scratched her left arm absently "Guys?" she began tentatively. Her voice trailed off.

"Yeah Gin?" Hermione prompted, her hand intertwined with Harry's.

"I need to tell you something about Draco."

"What about Draco?" Ron quickly asked her, his voice on edge. Ron had a suspicion that Draco and Ginny had been seeing each other for months. He did not, however, realize how far along things had become.

"He took the Mark."

Harry sputtered. That was not at all unexpected, even from Draco, but why was Ginny telling them this? "Ginny, is there something you're keeping from us?" Hermione asked cautiously.

"I've been dating him for almost a year." she replied softly.

"What was that Ginny? I don't think that the gnomes heard that." Ron spat.

"I've been seeing Draco for almost a year now. And a month ago-" she gasped with what she was about to say. Three of the four people that she cared most about stared at her in shock. Ron's face had gone red, and he was shaking, by his very appearance seeming to threaten Draco within an inch of his life if he ever set a finger on Ginny. Harry's brow had furrowed, as if he was deep in thought. And Hermione looked at the younger girl with a curious expression on her face. She said quietly,

"What were you going to say Ginny?"

"Nothing."

"No. What is it? You've been avoiding us for a month now. And the other sixth years have noticed the same thing. You can tell us." She tried to sound reassuring, but it wasn't working very well.

"I can't tell you. Have you ever done something that everyone will suspect you did for the wrong reasons, but you know that you're right?"

"Yes," Hermione replied tentatively, remembering the incident with the Firebolt in their third year.

"I've done something like that. But I can't tell you-"

"Ginny, what is going on with you?" Ron's dam had broken, and words spilled forth from it at a furious pace. "If you can't trust family, then who can you trust? I may not like that snobbish, back-biting git of a Malfoy, but you are family. Regardless of your relationship to him," he said finally.

"That's not all," Ginny steeled herself for the onslaught when she next opened her mouth. "Do you remember when I was in hospital wing for a week two months ago?"

"Yes," Harry said.

"I didn't have a run-in with one of Hagrid's beasts. When I came back, when you found me in the morning, I had been at a Death Eater-" She got no further. Harry's emeralds blazed in fury at her.

"Don't say it!" He reached over Hermione's body and grabbed Ginny's left arm. He roughly pulled the sleeve up, and gave a hiss of fury when he saw what lay on her arm.

A snake slithering out of a skull. The Dark Mark.

"Ginny! How could you?" Harry could barely say her name. Ron shook with fury, while Hermione simply stared.

"Could you take it Harry? I had no choice. I went to support Draco, who needs me. Not as the little sister, or as the madly in love first year, but as me. I wanted to help him."

"Malfoy is a-"

She raised a hand to stop Harry. "No, he's not. He can be an insufferable git sometimes as can you and my brother, but he is also sweet, and kind and loyal."

"To his father, and Voldemort." Harry retorted. It was all he could do to not slap sense into her right there and then.

Ginny's eyes narrowed "No. To Dumbledore. Do you honestly think that the headmaster would let him take the Mark without some sort of protection? Dumbledore may be a mad wizard but he is not stupid. And he is loyal to me," she finished.

"Draco will never be loyal to anyone but Draco," Harry stated flatly.

"What do you know, Harry? Dumbledore trusts him. We plan to spy for Dumbledore. How better to do it than to take the highest Death Eater's son and turn him into a spy. With his girlfriend by his side. Harry, I'm still Ginny," she said, frantically trying to pull Harry out of the anger that he was feeling.

"Are you? Did Vol--" Harry stoped as Hermione and Ron flinched "did *he* make you perform any of the Unforgivables?" Ginny didn't answer, just looked down.. He obviously had. Harry's voice was dangerously quiet. "How did you feel Ginny? Listen to me, Virginia Weasley. Your decision was stupid, plain and simple. Draco Malfoy will never change. What happens when he-"

He was stopped by a stinging sensation on the side of his cheek. Ginny had moved so fast that he never saw the slap coming. He was reminded of the time in his third year when Hermione had slapped Draco.

Ginny had had enough. She stood toe to toe with Harry, breathing angrily, "Shut up, Harry. You don't know anything about Draco, or about me, and you never will. He has changed, and we will prove you wrong!" She replied to his commentary, and walked away.

In fact, Draco and Ginny had proven Harry wrong, and they were now two of the most important spies that Dumbledore had in the Death Eater camp. Harry couldn't blame either of them for Hermione's death, not really, but for almost a month after the funeral he wouldn't speak to them. But the wounds had closed partially, and he was able to speak with them once more, after he focused his rage and loss onto one single being.

The two men reached the center of the spacious office, which was filled with anxious Aurors. Ron pointed his dark wand at his throat and said "Sonorus." He took a deep breath, and launched into the moment of truth.

"I've received word that the attack on Hogwarts is taking place one hour from now." When he paused, there was a stunned silence for a moment, and then everyone suddenly became very busy. "Does everyone have what they need? In the interests of security, we've been training you for certain tasks, and now it has come time to reveal our master battle plan. Everyone will be with their units defending the castle. Dumbledore will have no time to evacuate the younger students so they will be in the center of the castle. The older students will be out with us defending themselves and their classmates."

"This is it ladies and gentlemen. The final battle. We win, and You-Know-Who will be defeated and killed. I don't want to consider the alternatives." He finished, and then thought of something further. "Also, we have a few Death Eater operatives. If any of the Death Eaters make this sign," he wiggled his wand a few times, muttered a few words, and an image of the Hogwarts crest appeared before him, "then they are the operatives. Under no circumstances are they to be touched. Another thing. No one takes Lucius Malfoy. His son wants that honor," he finally finished grimly. A few Aurors that had heard what he said gasped, but truly were not all that surprised. He had married a Weasley after all, even a Weasley that had become a Death Eater, granted, but no one believed that he was anything but a lesser version of his father.

One half hour before the attack was scheduled to begin, the more than two hundred assembled Aurors from around Britain stood in ten perfect rows in the center of the cavernous office. Harry drew his wand out of his left breast pocket, and looked to Ron. The other man nodded, and Harry said something softly to a panel in the wall. Glowing briefly, the panel faded to a dull metallic gray afterwards.

"The Anti-Apparition wards are down. Let's go. Harry, you'll be right behind us on Floo?"

Harry simply nodded in reply. No more words were needed as the compliment of wizards and witches Disapparated. Finally alone, Harry went to work. He reset the panel to the Anti-Apparition wards, and crossed quickly to one of the Floo stations. He took a pinch of the powder out and paused, thinking.

I will have my revenge, Voldemort. Today is the last time you will harm another. Hermione, watch over me. I grieve for you, my love. Forgive me.

For a moment his steely exterior fought tears, but he would not let grief overcome him, not today. A calm settled over him, and he made peace with himself, just as he always had since her death. With nary a thought more, he threw the Floo powder into the fire and yelled "Hogsmede!" , running into the fire as he did so.