Black Aeon

Chapter 13

You're so cold

There was silence, unbroken other than by the priests' voice and a female voice sobbing in the background. Mrs. Carlisle had taken her "baby boys'" death very hard. Falcon and his father stood by her, looking ashen and exhausted, new lines standing out sharply around Falcons' mouth. Harry Potter was one of the coffin bearers, walking in unison with the other three, and his eyes down. The coffin was awfully light; they must have used a Weightless charm on it. Gently, the four young men; Harry Potter, Jacob Marlow, Ron Weasley and another Slytherin boy (a cousin of the Carlisle family), lifted the coffin off their shoulders and placed it over the grave, where it hovered on a charm. The priest looked sadly down into the dark hole beneath the wooden box, and Mrs. Carlisle's sobbing became worse, causing her husband to have to support her.

"Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust." Wylow Le Fey- Potter stepped forward, her face white and the skin taut around her eyes and jaw, and gently tossed a single red rose onto the lid of the coffin. The coffin slowly sank, until a soft 'thud' confirmed it had been lowered the full six feet. Mechanically, she picked up a handful of the earth beside the grave, and let it trickle out of her hand onto the lid of the coffin. The gravediggers- dressed solemnly in black- picked up their shovels and began to bury the lost one. Everyone turned, and began to walk away. All except three people; Wylow, Arielle and Jacob. The strawberry blonde and the red head looked at each other, and each slid an arm around the raven haired girl, who stared at the grave stone without really seeing it.

"Hunter Raoul Carlisle

1979-1998

Beloved son and brother

Treasured love and friend

He will be sorely missed"

Beneath it was carved a little willow tree leaf, with an arrow piercing it. A final symbol of Wylow and Hunters love for one another.

And tears did not fall down Wylow's face.

*

"Is she... ok?" a voice outside her door asked. Wylow ignored it, and continued to lie on her bed, motionless except for her breathing and her index and fore fingers rubbing the tattooed snakes head on the back of her hand.

"She's as good as can be expected. But.... She's not really spoken to any of us yet. She doesn't want to see anyone."

"I'm her brother; she'll want to see me!"

"No one Harry. Not even you." There was a silence, and then a sigh.

"This isn't going to be the easiest time in the world for any of us, is it Arielle?" A laugh sounded softly, bitterly.

"No. No it isn't." There was the sound of footsteps, which quickly died away again, leaving her in a heavy, blanket like silence.

With a quiet squeak, the door opened, and Jay slipped in. His glasses flashed worriedly at her.

"Hey... you alright there 'Ganie?" For a moment, she looked at him, and then turned on her side, presenting her back to him.

"...Go away Jay. Please... just... go away." He paused for a second, and then did as she asked, gently shutting the door behind him. Quietly, as she stared at the wall, alone again. She closed her eyes, and once again let the night at the fortress play through her head, trying to magic herself into a happier ending. But there was no magic strong enough for her wish.

*

"Miss Potter, if you don't concentrate, I'm afraid I shall be forced to deduct house points." McGonagall looked at her pointedly over her spectacles. Wylow looked back at her bleakly. As hard as she tried, she couldn't summon up the energy to even attempt the complex Transfiguration spell that the professor wanted her to do. "Miss Potter? Please, at least lift your wand and say the incantation. There is no use just sitting there and looking around like a dazed duck. I understand about your loss, but you have had your cry, now it is time to get on with your life and pass your N.E.W.T's. It's what Mr. Carlisle would have wanted you to do." You didn't know the slightest thing about Hunter, you stupid old bitch, Wylow thought miserably as she went through the motions of casting the spell and seeing it fail. All you saw was the student. You didn't know his favourite colour was yellow, or that he liked his coffee to have Irish Cream in it, or that he hated the way that his fringe always flopped down into his eyes but that he couldn't be bothered to have it cut and didn't trust me to do it. Or that he had little flecks of amber in his eyes along with almost black splashes or that he smiled with the tip of his tongue caught between his teeth, or how he would have his eyes half closed and he groaned softly...

She inhaled sharply, and waited for some tears to flow. They didn't come; her eyes were as dry as if she was standing facing into the wind without her glasses on. She slowly let her breath trickle back out of her lungs, and slumped down in her seat. She poked half heartedly at the raven on her desk, causing it to squawk indignantly at her, to which she apologised absent mindedly.

"Well that wasn't a very nice thing to do, was it?" She sat up sharply, and spun around in shock at the voice.

"Hunter?" She saw a flash of his grinning face in the corner of her eye, but that was all. Jacob looked at her with a concerned look on his face.

"Who are you talking to Wyl'?"

"Hunter! He- he was just here! I heard him; I saw him! Surely you..." she trailed off; the look on his face was enough to tell her that he hadn't. "Never mind Jacob. I must have drifted off fro a second; I thought I saw... yeah..." she slumped back down in her seat, and rubbed at the snakes tongue on her hand. McGonagall shot her what could have been a concerned look, but didn't say anything else to her.

~~

"Albus, the girl is falling apart!" Minerva McGonagall paced up and down in front of the Head Masters desk. Albus Dumbledore, and Severus Snape, remained in their seats, the older man watching her with a twinkle in his eyes. "She is as powerful as her mother was, perhaps more, and yet she can't muster enough magic to put out a candle! It's all that I can do not to shake her!"

"It's love, Minerva," Albus said softly, gesturing for her to return to her seat, "You saw what it did to Lily when she almost lost James. Morgan is... very much like her mother. She has many emotions clogging up her mind, and she is not letting them loose."

"Don't be ridiculous; she must have sobbed her heart out repeatedly!" Severus shook his head, causing her to stop.

"My dear Madam, my reports from the students tell me that as yet, the young lady has to show any other emotion than hollowness. She has neither wept, laughed nor smiled since she returned from her mission. Her internal pain must be... unbearable." Minerva looked uncomfortable as she sat down gingerly once more. There was a moment of silence.

"I suppose... I must apologise. I had imagined her to be more like her brother. Harry always has been one to show his emotions, sometimes too strongly for his own good. Miss Potter, I had thought, was the same." Albus nodded his acceptance of her words, and looked to his Potions master.

"Severus, you are Head of her house; is there nothing you can do?" Severus sighed, and looked as though he was about to shake his head "Please consider Severus; maybe if she knew how close you and her mother had been, she could feel she had some one to confide in?" The black haired man sneered.

"If you think that I am going to play nurse maid to some emotional teenaged girl-"

"This is Lily's daughter, Severus. Lily's youngest child. You promised to be Lily's friend for life by standing for her at her wedding; now, I believe, that promise is passed down to her daughter." The Potions master looked doubtful. A rush of air burst into the room, whirling around the three. Tiny pin pricks of green light could be picked out in it, and the smell of damp flowers and cut grass struck their nostrils sharply.

"Severus..." a soft voice whispered reproachfully, speaking in a voice that sounded like the wind itself was speaking.

As suddenly as the wind had struck up, it was gone, leaving no trace of having been there other than the faint smell that lingered in the air before fading completely. Severus had sunk low into his seat, his face covered by his long thin hands. The Headmaster looked at him patiently. Slowly, the Professor looked up, and swallowed. Gone was the long hooked nose that he was known for; in its place, was the straight, classical nose that Lily had returned his nose to being back when they were seventeen.

"...The bloody woman removed the Covering Charm..." Albus smiled kindly.

"Maybe you should also wash your hair; it would make you look much more like the happy boy that I remember, being pushed into the lake repeatedly by a small red head, whom was determined at all times to christen him 'Sev''." Instead of exploding indignantly, the Potions Master nodded slowly and quietly left the office, leaving the Headmaster and Transfiguration Professor looking after him in silence.

~~

"What the FUCK has happened to Snape?" Ron was sat, staring at the staff table, a forkful of scrambled egg slowly falling off of his fork and back onto his plate. Hermione looked up casually from her book, which was as usual propped up against the milk jug.

"It appears, Ronald, that he has finally had his nose sorted out and had a long needed shower." The Potions Master, possibly conscious that he was being talked about, glared out at the student population. The effect was very different from his old glare; it was less sharp, and get slightly scarier for some reason.

Harry stared down at his bowl of cooling porridge, his throat aching horribly. He attempted a mouthful. It tasted alright, but stuck to his throat as he swallowed, as though his throat was too tight to take the food, making him choke slightly on the hot oats. He quickly poured a glass of milk, and gulped it down, gasping slightly when he finished the glass as he refilled his slightly starved lungs. He sighed, and attempted another mouthful. Hermione looked at him with concern, and quietly closed her book- she had learned to be careful around Harry with books.

"Harry, if you're struggling with that... why don't you try some fruit? It might go down a bit easier." The words barely registered with Harry, who looked at her blankly. What was she blathering on about? What was the matter with him having a bit of trouble swallowing at the moment? He just wasn't feeling very well, that's all.

Hermione, obviously reading his blankness as acceptance, quickly peeled an orange and handed it over. Deciding that he couldn't be bothered arguing, he pulled it apart and tore off a segment, popping it into his mouth. When he swallowed the juice, it burned like acid, and he choked immediately, his eyes watering painfully. Hermione looked distressed as Ron clapped him soundly on the back.

"Harry! Harry, are you alright?!" He nodded slightly in reply, gasping for breath, each inhalation burning slightly. What the hell was wrong with him? Before he knew what was happening, Hermione had purposefully stridden over, opened his mouth and looked down his throat. "Harold James Potter, your tonsils are the size of golf balls! No wonder you're in pain!" she gave him a worried motherly look. "That's it, we're going to the Infirmary and then you are resting in bed for as long as it takes. You've probably gotten tonsillitis before, if it's this bad now, and those ...horrible relatives of yours have done nothing about it!" Harry felt dazed as Hermione hauled him out of his seat and dragged him out of the Hall, muttering the whole way. He really didn't feel well, and didn't appreciate being dragged around. He swallowed painfully, and spoke in a soft voice that made him wince internally, it sounded so pathetic.

"Herm', I'm ok, I just need some more sleep and some food. It's probably nothing."

"Don't be ridiculous!" She tossed a look over her shoulder at him that dared him to argue on pain of his consciousness. With a mental sigh, Harry gave in and let the girl drag him along by his arm, all the while muttering about what she would like to do to the Dursleys.

*

Harry lay snuggled down in a hospital bed, drowsy warmth lulling him happily. As much as his throat hurt, he was warm and sleepy. Having ones tonsils removed was not a pleasant experience, and one he was glad he never had to go through again.

"Jay?" he opened his eyes blearily. 'Ganie was sitting up in the bed opposite him, looking thin and unhappy.

"'Ganie? What are you doing here?" she shrugged, and pulled her knees up until she could hug them.

"Apparently I've been dubbed depressed, so I've been separated so as to be able to recuperate without ill needed outward influences." She sighed and flicked her hair out of her eyes. The white blonde streak flashed in the light, and Harry found himself unable to look away from it, it was so mesmerising. "So what are you in for Jay? You get in another fight?" he smiled wryly.

"Had my tonsils out." His voice croaked pitifully, and she winced in what he hoped was sympathy.

"Sounds painful. Hunter complained for months after he had his out. He-" she broke off, and swallowed hard, looking away from his eyes. Harry felt a rush of sympathy flow through him for his baby sister.

"I remember. You just wish he'd shut up, right? Thought he was a baby?" she nodded slightly, and worried her lower lip with her teeth. There was a pregnant pause, in which Harry wondered if his sister was fighting not to cry.

"You know... I complained about him so much sometimes... but now I'd give anything in the world that I have just to hear him whining on and on about something trivial. The fact he hated warm milk on cereal, and would complain about it all day in the most irritating way possible because he knew, he bloody well knew that it annoyed me." This had to be the most that 'Ganie had said since the mission, when she had returned looking like a ghost.

Harry had known instinctively that she was back. He had pulled on a robe, and raced out of the dorm, out of the common room and through the castle, speeding to the Entrance Hall where she would be. She would be joyful, grinning, maybe even turning cart wheels because of their successful mission, while her three friends looked on with tired amusement.

He got a shock.

'Ganie was standing silent and still, looking down at a body which was laid out on a bench. There was a sinking feeling in Harry's chest as he approached. Carlisle had merely looked like he was sleeping, but his cold paleness has spoken otherwise. There was no laughter on 'Ganies face; it was drawn and pained, as though she had had the skin tightened too much. Harry had licked his lips.

"H...how?" the single word echoed in the silence of the room of shocked people. 'Ganie looked at him for a moment, before stroking Carlisle's cheek one last time and turning away.

"Avada Kedavra." The two words trailed behind her as she walked slowly away to her dormitory. Harry paused a moment, giving Arielle a look of sympathy when he saw the tears streaming silently down her cheeks, and Marlow a nod and a tiny smile, before returning to him own dorm, confused and unhappy.

"'Ganie, it wasn't your fault you know. It was that bastard, Voldemort. He was the one who killed Car- Hunter. There was nothing you could have done; it was done by a truly fucking evil bastard." He spoke as forcibly as he was able too, trying his best to snap her out of it. She shook her head, confusing him enough to stop speaking.

"No Jay, that's just it. It wasn't Voldemort." He stared at her in shock as she laughed bitterly. "It wasn't Voldemort, as much as I wish it had been. I'd had it all perfectly aimed, and I'd have got the cunt as well, but... he had a shield." Harry had a horrible feeling about where this was going, and as much as he didn't want to hear it, he had to know if he was correct. "It was me. I'm the one who cast that bloody spell. I'm the one who..." she broke of, her voice catching in her throat and her green eyes beginning to well up with tears. Harry, feeling utterly useless, could only watch as his brave, strong sister choked over her words as finally tears of grief poured down her thin face. "I'm the one who killed him. I killed him. My dearest love and I killed him... I killed him..." She began to sob, quietly at first, and then bitterly and brokenly, her voice catching horribly, her shoulders quaking. She curled up into a ball of misery, and sobbed as though her entire world had come to an end. All Harry could do was sit and watch, as his 'Ganie broke down and howled out her misery to the empty, echoing stone walls.