The Price of Survival

Chapter Two

Minerva had gathered the members of the Order after the final battle was finally cleared up and the wounded were all getting treated for their injuries. She hated to do this, they were all so weary after everything they had been through over the past month, or if she was really being honest, the past few years. They all deserved a well-earned rest, but she had to do this before they all lost their drive.

They sat together quietly around the familiar kitchen table at 12 Grimmaud Place, each nursing their own thoughts as they awaited the last two remaining members, except for Molly, who was off talking to her youngest boy. They soon heard the hearth light up and Tonks arrived. She had changed her hair from the battle brown to a happier, yet somewhat toned down purple, her willingness to have her hair a natural colour gone as soon as the battle was done. She clumsily stumbled towards the table, grabbing a cup of tea and a biscuit or two before seating herself next to the sad figure of Bill Weasley. Losing a father and a brother in the space of a week wasn't the best thing to have to go through.

The only person yet to show up was Severus. The others were onto their second cup of tea by the time he came into the kitchen from the fireplace and sat himself wearily down, scowl still firmly attached to his face. Seeing that everyone was still staring off into space, or seemingly doing a (acting like?) Trelawney and gazing at their tealeaves, Severus decided to remind them that they were waiting for a meeting to begin, not in a divination class.

"Well?" he snapped, knowing his blunt manner would piss most of them off but not caring as he wanted this meeting over as soon as possible so he could get back to his Firewhiskey that was awaiting him by his hearth. Minerva raised her eyebrows at him, but seemed to take his prompt as intended.

"I call this meeting of the Order of the Phoenix into session. First, I want to congratulate you all on a job well done. However, I am afraid that although we have won this war there is still quite a bit that we must do." Minerva looked gravely around at her compatriots and waited until all their attention was focused on her.

"We must do all we can to gather the remaining Death Eaters that apparated away once their master was killed. Alastor, would you and your team start doing that as soon as this meeting is over?" Alastor nodded his agreement, ignoring the weary sighs of his team who had been hoping to get home and rest. Minerva then sighed, not wanting to have to be the one to deliver her next pieces of news.

"We have lost a great deal in this war and we must honour the fallen in whichever way we can. We lost a great friend last night and I just hope that wherever he is now, Charlie Weasley is happy." Here she paused to wipe her eyes as one silent tear ran down her cheek. She looked over at Bill, who looked over at her sadly, and nodded at her to continue.

"But Charlie is not the only one to have fallen tonight." There was a collective gasp around the room as everyone looked around them to see who was missing. Then Moody noticed that Molly was not there and asked quietly, "Molly?"

"No, luckily the Weasley family has not directly lost another, although I doubt they welcome this news. After killing Voldemort, Harry Potter was turned."

The room went into uproar at the announcement, only Tonks and Remus unsurprised and Severus only staying quiet out of habit. Indignation at the unfairness of it all made up most of the first wave of comments but then mutterings about what he could do as the next Dark Lord arose. Minerva raised her hand for quiet and eager for information, the others obliged.

"There is, however, a way to make sure Harry will retain his soul. Although this ritual is usually used as a curse, we should be able to so this without detriment because he has not really begun his life as a vampire yet. It is little known and requires six people close to the victim. It must be done within the next 24 hours, as there is only 36 hours between turning and rising. Those who participate in this must go home now to rest, as it is quite draining and we are all very tired. Most of us here are quite close to Harry but if I could have some volunteers who have the energy? Remus? Tonks? Bill? Good. Molly and I will be joining them. We only need one more person." Here she paused and looked pointedly at Severus, who looked back at her and, somewhat reluctantly, nodded. "Good. Now all of you go home and get some sleep, I'll need you to meet me outside the Hogwarts Infirmary in 12 hours."

With this, she turned and walked out of the kitchen. Those remaining started muttering again once she had left and as Severus got up to leave, he glared at everyone. "Need you be reminded that what is said in this room stays in this room. The war may be over but it is no reason to become gossips when this information could be detrimental to everything we have worked for." As he turned to go, he overheard someone muttering about not being first years. As Severus walked out the door he glanced over his shoulder and said, "If you act like first years, I shall treat you as first years; unable to do anything without blowing something up." He swept out the door, cloak billowing behind him, turning the conversation from the Potter boy to himself. Once again his leaving gave everyone else a chance to bitch about him in peace.

ooooo

Ron wondered why Madame Pomfrey had rushed off before telling him anything about why he had been in here for a week. His head ached as he tried to remember how he had gotten here in the first place.

It was then that he saw his mother rushing over towards him, a worried look upon her face. It must be bad. Parents only ever came to the school when someone had died. He then realised that it was the holidays, and his dread increased even more. Molly came over to his side, sat down on a chair beside him and began fussing with his covers and smoothing his hair. Ron found he couldn't even get up the energy to get indignant about it.

"What's happened mum?" Ron asked.

"Oh darling," Molly began and tears started to run down her face. She grabbed a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped at her eyes. "It's your dad, dear. He was killed by Death Eaters at an attack on the Ministry last week." It was all she could get out before bursting into tears again at the loss of her beloved husband. Ron stared at her in shock and tried to ignore the tears that were beginning to form in his own eyes. His mind somehow put two and two together and surmised that he was in here due to that attack himself.

"Mum, why am I in here?" he asked quietly, dreading the answer.

Molly just looked at him and burst into tears again, which started to get Ron even more anxious. "Mum?" Molly gathered herself together brusquely and wiped her eyes. She then took her son's hand in hers and looked at him with a mixture of great sadness and pride.

"When the Ministry was attacked, as you may or may not remember, you went to join in the fight. You stood beside your father and held your own against the Death Eaters until their numbers just became too vast and a curse broke through your shield. Luckily, it was knocked off course and only hit your leg." Here she paused, trying to think of a way to phrase the next part so it didn't hurt him as much. "It was an upper-level dark arts curse, one that none of us knew the counter for. We tried everything we could to stop it from spreading but in the end we had to amputate."

Ron stared at her in shock and anger. 'Why couldn't they counter it? Snape would surely know how!' He then realised that he didn't even know what the curse was. He seethed for a moment before looking coldly at his mother.

"What was the curse?" he demanded quietly as he stared at the anxious face of is mother.

"It was as degenerative flesh eating curse, which works away at the skin before moving in towards the tissue and the bone. We had to amputate before it got any further than you knee," Molly told him quietly, looking at the angry face of her son, "we did the best we could do, dear, but at least it didn't get you in the chest where the Death Eater aimed, because you wouldn't be here today if it had. I don't think I could cope with another of you gone." She then burst into tears again and grabbed her son and pulled him into a tight hug, trying to show her love in any way she could. Ron accepted the hug but in his mind he was seething at the injustice of it all. Seventeen and he was going to have to get a fake leg and be a freak like Mad-Eye Moody.

When Molly pulled away again, she decided that it would be a good idea to get his mind of his injury with the good news of Voldemort's demise.

"At least I have some good news to tell you now though, because just tonight Harry killed You-Know-Who! Isn't that great, Ron?"

Ron was relieved that the Dark Lord was dead but now Harry was going to get all the glory, wasn't he. Never mind everyone else that helped him, it would be all 'Praise Harry Potter, Defeater of You-Know-Who!' It was too much for Ron to take in as his best friend would be getting all the attention and he would be the injured and forgettable sidekick. A storm cloud seemed to cross Ron's face but to hide what his true thoughts from his mother, he merely said, "he got what he deserved," as the bastard's minions had done this to him, and he didn't deserve life.

"Yes. He did, didn't he," Molly agreed firmly, glad that the thing that had torn apart her family was dead. Molly, however, was also thinking of how proud she was of Harry as she felt as though he was another of her boys.

Before his mother could start singing the praises of Harry, Ron decided to cut her off by feigning tiredness, although the news he had just received had awoken him better than a gallon of pepper-up potion.

"Mum, I'm tired okay? I think I'll just go to sleep again now," he said, turning his head away from her. He shut his eyes and waited until she had left his side before staring up at the ceiling and fuming at all he had just found out.

ooooo

Once Minerva had left the oppressive atmosphere of Grimmaud Place, she apparated into the foyer at St Mungo's. She hadn't seen the place this hectic and busy since the last war, if it had even gotten this busy then. There wasn't one huge big battle last time, merely small, fear inspiring attacks that occurred randomly, if not regularly. No, the hospital had never been this busy before.

She made her way swiftly past the information desk, and the nurse that was about to call her back noticed the distinctive emerald robes and tight bun and let her former teacher pass by unescorted. It had been years since the former Hufflepuff had been in her classroom but she still deferred to her authority out of a good seven years of habit. Minerva made her way up the stairs until she reached the ward in which Albus was. He was recovering from internal bleeding stemmed from extended exposure to the Cruciatus curse, and magical exhaustion. The guards standing outside of the doors to his private room gave her a few good finite incantatum 's and the new counter-polyjuice potion that had been developed under the pressure of the war. Snape had been working on it in his spare time (not that he had much of it) and once it was acknowledged it would earn him not only a lot of money for the patents but grant him the acclaim he had been wishing for for years, to counter his reputation as an evil Death Eater.

After it had been confirmed that yes, it was her, not one of Voldemort's remaining minions, she passed through the standard hospital swinging doors and went to Albus' bedside. He looked older than she had ever seen him before and the creases in his face and the fragile skin of his hands was accentuated by the fact that he was not wearing gaudy robes with matching animated hats. His eyes were not open to distract you from his age with their regular twinkle however much it had been dimmed these past months. At least the weight of responsibility for helping the world rid them of Voldemort's menace could now be lifted from his shoulders but she didn't want to have to burden him with the news of Harry's turning. The headmaster would take it personally and the weight of the news would weigh just as heavy as his previous burden as he would blame himself for that which he could do nothing to prevent.

She sat by his side for nearly an hour before he began to stir. She grabbed a glass of water and his glasses to give him when he came to. He placed the glasses he felt in his hand on and looked to see the emerald blur coalesce into his deputy headmistress. She handed him the water and he gratefully accepted the offer. Before he could begin to query Minerva she decided to tell him what she knew.

"The good news is that Harry has killed Voldemort, Albus, so you needn't worry about that. We have most of the Death Eaters, and have killed all of Voldemort's creatures as well. However, there is bad news too." Here Minerva closed her eyes and straightened her back further as though it could bring her strength. "Charlie Weasley was killed as well as four Aurors and though I hate to be the one to have to tell you, Harry has been turned."

At these words the look in Albus' eyes made you wonder if the twinkle would ever be able to make a return appearance.

ooooo

Draco woke up and was suddenly assaulted with way too much light. The white paint of the hospital wing was reflecting the sun from the window and all he wanted to do was turn around and go back to sleep before he remembered why he was in here.

Alas, what Draco wanted rarely came into the equation and he started to recall the events leading up to his sojourn into Madame Pomfrey's domain. Before they could get any further, however, he placed a blank wall up to prevent the memories from overtaking him. It just wouldn't do to break down in public.

Just then Madame Pomfrey bustled up to him and started clucking disapprovingly before sitting him up to pour foul-tasting potions down his throat. He gave a grimace and a retching sound after he swallowed the last potion and the matron glared at him before her gaze softened and she patted his head.

"I know they taste awful but they'll do you a world of good. No one should be hit with that at your age, dear. Now, I'll have to keep you here until lunchtime for observation but then you should be right to go." Draco swallowed nervously at this statement, wondering just where he would stay until school began for his final year.

ooooo

Hermione sat staring out of the window of her second floor bedroom at the street lined with terraces and wondered how it was that she was stuck here in the middle of muggle London while a war was ranging in the world she now belonged in. She despaired at ever getting any news of what was going on as her parents weren't letting her get any owl mail. It felt so unfair that her parents had made her stay at home when they found out about the war, rather than actually letting her be useful and helping Harry and Ron like she usually did. How she regretted finally informing them of the severity of the political situation in the wizarding world. When they found out the Death Eaters reason for existence was the extermination of muggle born, her conservative muggle dentist parents had refused to let her out of her room and back to Hogwarts when she had come back for the summer holidays. Never mind that she was only a month or so off being of legal age in the wizarding world, they wanted to 'keep her safe', and in doing so, were driving a wedge into their already strained relationship.

Since Hermione had gone to Hogwarts, she had grown quite far from what her parents had expected of her. Despite, or perhaps because of the fact that she had consistently been top of her year academically and was now forever entrenched in the world of magic, they argued over nearly everything. Her parents wanted her to go to university and train to become some kind of health practitioner while Hermione just wanted to work at the Ministry as an Auror or an Unspeakable. These expectations that her parents placed upon her just didn't consider the fact that magic was an integral part of who she was and that she wouldn't be returning to the muggle world once she left school. She was a powerful witch and the fact that that they ignored this and locked her in her room to 'protect' her seriously pissed her off. 'Bloody Underage Restrictions on Magic.' She didn't know what was happening, if Harry and Ron were still safe, or if Voldemort had fallen. She just had to get out of here. She finally understood at least some of what Harry had experienced at the Dursley's all these years, but at least she still had access to her books, there wasn't anything else to do to pass the time in here but read. She actually cursed the fact that she had an ensuite, as it meant she could only leave her room for meals. The one good thing that she didn't begrudge at this point in time was her stereo. Over the various holidays she had amassed quite a large CD collection that she sorely missed while at Hogwarts. Maybe she could find a way to charm electrical appliances to work near magic? That could earn her a fancy dollar with muggle borns like her and get her a deposit on a flat somewhere near Diagon Alley.

What she really needed to do now was work out how the hell she was going to get out of here and get back to Hogwarts to help everyone out. If she could convince her parents that she was coming around and allow them to think she'd go to uni, she might be able to get to the bank to take out her money. She had enough in her private account to get her through a month or two as she'd saved up her allowance for years. It also helped that she was unable to really go shopping or anything all that often while she was at Hogwarts, as boarding schools were not all that well suited to going out on a weekend to see a movie and she was always studying or trying to prevent Voldemort from killing Harry to really have all that much recreation time. Not that she really minded or anything. If she could withdraw the money, she'd be able to make her way back to where she really belonged, Hogwarts.